I must tell you how it warms the cockles of this blogger’s heart to have blogging friends who feel free to give me a generous ration of shit.
I left myself wide open yesterday with this comment: It was a pretty craptastic day, in no small part because I think I punched myself in the eye while I was sleeping and my eye fucking HURT all day. By the way, what kind of dumbass hits themselves in their own eye while they sleep?
Roo, who, by the way, can tell a story that will make you glad you learned how to read, had this to say in response: Um… Didn’t you shoot yourself in the head not too long ago? Maybe it’s just me, but I think there’s some sort of pattern emerging…
Now, I have to say, that was a good one (and when I say ‘good one’, I mean I laughed and spluttered and possibly said Bad Words, oh and then yelled at Pookie to read it, because DAMN, that shit was harsh, yo. Not to mention hilarious), because of course, she was right. I did shoot myself in the head not too long ago. Not only did I shoot myself in the head, I then blogged about it as soon as the bleeding stopped and the blinding pain receded a bit. Because, OMG, that is SO funny! Not funny /ha-ha, really, more like funny/glad you aren’t that stupid.
Then, Mothergoose (who asks all the hard questions when she does her Thursday Third Degrees on her blog. She will make you think.) chimed in with this: Glad you didn’t kill anyone, except for your attempts on yourself.
Again, funny, yes? It’s ok, I think it’s funny too.
THEN, Mrs. Chili (whom I wish had been a teacher of mine when I was in high school but realize in retrospect that if she been, she would be way old by now and probably not as goofy. She’d prolly be all mature and shit. We can’t be havin’ that) had this to say: HAHAHAHAHAHA, Roo! You’re ABSOLUTELY right, and you beat me to it!
To tell you the truth, I think it’s the “HAHAHAHAHAHA” that bothered me most. Would it have killed her to laugh in lowercase? *
I have to admit, I love it when people poke fun at me, especially when I deserve it and oh, by the way, provide all the ammunition, cheerfully and free of charge to the general public.
Y’all are the shiznit.
And now! A poll! Or not so much a poll as Pookie and I are on opposites sides of an issue and I would like for the internets to tell me whether I’m right or Pookie’s wrong. Either one. I’m ok with either of those answers. (wink, nudge)
It is Pookie’s assertion that the song, She Works Hard for the Money, by Donna Summer is about prostitution.
It’s is my assertion that Pookie is mistaken and that the song is about women who work, period.
(How did we come to this pass? I might or might not have been singing the song as I got ready for bed last night. To those who would posit that I seem to be living in the past, I say this; You whippersnappers should have more respect! Why, back in my day, we used to record music off the radio, to cassette. Uphill. In the snow.)
I took an informal poll earlier today (read: I asked a chick at work what she thought) and the consensus agreed with me.
Now, I know that sometimes song titles and/or lyrics can sound fairly innocuous but actually mean something really filthy (3 guesses what ‘She wore a pearl necklace’ really meant), but I don’t think that’s the case here.
What do y’all think?
*Or like this even: hahahahaha