Ho! Ho! Hee! Hee! Haa! Haa!

I remember a long time ago, there were 'Writers' on here, as far as the eye could see.

Ya couldn't walk five feet without stepping on one of them.

"Watch it! I am a writer!" said in some sort of 'I r better than u' voices that makes you want to take a dull teaspoon and dig out their eyes and force feed them it.

But then the 'Writers' decided they would rather take a slow boat to nowhere and off they went, ten by two, three by nine, onto the boat.

"You'll regret staying!" they shouted out from the poop deck.

But the ones who stayed didn't listen.

"We're bloggers. The best kind, we blog for free!"

The Writers wrote letters:

"Dear sucker, having swell time on boat, the sea sickness is only twice every hour instead of four or five times! I hear you got a new Ed I Tor, what's their name? Your friend, Ua Sukee Riter."

And still, we stayed.

Months went by, we waited for word that our old Ed I Tor had left and they were still working on the Spam problem.

And we waited.

A burp from the office of Salon.

We gasped.

"Could this be it?"

Nope, it was just the building settling.

We blogged.

"My life as a Transsexual Taxi Cab Driver" did not get an EP, but a Readers' Pick.

"Thank you readers!" Dainty Sid wrote back.  "I didn't think anyone cared!"

Then something happened.

"What?" cried the crowd.

I farted. 

Loudly.

"You're no longer allowed to drink Dr. Pepper!" wifey says from three counties over.

Yes, it was that bad.

But still, no word.

The Writers, the ones who said everything was great at their new site, wrote again.

"Dear monkey spank, we are sorry to say that our new site is gone.  We had so much fun writing we didn't notice the big hole in the wall that let the sea water in and most of us drowned.  But just the ones who thought they were writers but who should have stayed with you.  We seek out a new site!"

Monkey Spank was happy to be remembered, his readership had gone down by 20 over the last month or so.

I tried to tell him it was the spring-summer months, it always dropped a bit during those months.

"Do you think the Spammers read us Tink?"

"Someone is." I replied.

I decided computer time was cutting into my movie viewing time so I slipped out the back door and watched 'J. Edgar Hoover' which needs to go back tomorrow.

Things I learned -

1. Always wear a nice tie!

2. Before you die, make sure to tell your long time secretary to burn everything, including your long time partner in crime.

3. Richard Nixon talked funny. Burn him too.

4. Don't listen to your mother and refuse to have her teach you to dance. BE A DAISY!! Daisies are pretty! You like being pretty don't you?

5. What's wrong with sleeping with men? I've slept with a few men.  Some of them snored but that's what ear plugs are for.

I had already learned #5 before watching the movie. 

I could write ten posts on the men in my life, all ten of them.

There was Steve, my home economic partner. 

We both had signed up for home-ec thinking we'd get a class full of hot girls instead, we got two girls who decided making cakes and bread was just too homo-erotic for them and left mid-semster.

Steve was captain of the football team. 

"You make nice buns!" Steve told me as we stood side by side one day at our station.

"You do too!" I giggled.

"Do you want to study tonight at my house. My mom's on a business trip!"

"Okay!"

We studies till our eyes drooped then shut.  We awoke a few hours later, the clock striking Four A.M.

"Oh Jesus, Tink, what will people think?"

I shrugged. "Do you wanna go to the prom with me?"

"Would I?"

I wore pink with matching shoes.

Steve wore a tux.

(Not really! But we did get voted cutest couple in Home-Ec and I did ask Steve out to the prom but he took his mom instead. I understood, she didn't get to go to her prom! I STILL LOVE YOU STEVE....)

Steve's married now.

Twelve kids.

They live in New Jersey.

Or France.

"Really?"

Hell if I know. I stopped writing him when I went off to college and he became a priest.

CRAZY?
I WAS CRAZY ONCE!

THEY PUT ME IN A LITTLE ROOM,
WITH JUST A DOOR,
AND RUBBER WALLS AND FLOORS!

THEN THE WORMS CAME!
THEY WIGGLED AND SQUIRMED,
ACROSS THE FLOOR,
FROM THE WALLS THEY CAME!

WORMS?
I HATE WORMS!
THEY DRIVE ME CRAZY!

CRAZY?
I WAS CRAZY ONCE....

Somewhere in the cycle of things, I fell in love with a poet. 

His name was Hank.

He wrote sweet poems of love to me from state prison.

He should be out in 30 to 35 more years.

That reminds me of a story, a letter I wrote to Vanna White but never sent accidentally got thrown away by my mother last week.

I didn't know about it till my phone rang and it was Vanna White.

Somehow, the letter had found its way to her.

"Did you write a letter to me in 1989 but never sent it?"

"Ye...yesss....."

"It was wonderful..." the phone went dead.

Oh god, did the Russian mob finally catch up to Vanna White and killed her, like in those fan-fictions I wrote but never published and my mom threw them away as well last week.

The phone rang again.

"This is the Russian mob! Did you write fan-fiction about Vanna White getting killed by shoving vowel up her butt? WE DID IT!!"

The moral of the story: DON'T WRITE FAN-FICTION AND LEAVE IT WHERE YOUR MOM CAN THROW IT AWAY!

No, no, seriously, Vanna White cannot be killed.

She is immoral!

Did I spell that right?

I guess.

 
"Pull my finger!! Dumbass!! HUHUHUHUH!"

Remember, buy your father something nice. 

"But my father is dead, Tink!"

Then buy him something really nice!

What happens to the time?

Where does it go?

Uranus?

Doesn't that hurt?

Good night and have a better tomorrow...