You are my spirit animals

What's with all the nekked people on my sidebar? Don't get me wrong, you are all very attractive people,,, from what I can see,,, and if I had your sexy sweaty and beautifully shaped and sizeably wondrous attributes,,, I would post them as well,,, but I wonder:

Why has this blog has attracted you?

I tell alot of fart jokes here and have even detailed a certain situation when my poo came out looking like a manatee (not my finest post by a longshot, I admit but I was on the Atkins diet and that DOES totally explain this weird poo instance..)

And yes,,, I have told a story or two about my failed dates with guys that talk about their pet birds or rock back and forth endlessly instead of actually conversating with me... Or the one who looked like a Muppet...

....and of course there are plenty of stories about my lack of sex *sigh* (sadly this still toils on) !

But I blame myself because I have been afraid of the pipe monsters in this town for a while now... *shiver* and I am not very sexually appealing here, me thinks...urrrrrp....

Mostly,,, I tell stupid stories about me falling or making a complete fool of myself in front of small audiences of onlookers who have no idea how really fabulous I long to be... or that my underwear totally matches my toenail colour de jour and my perfume compliments the style of clothing I am wearing that day...

My sparkles have not deterred people from laughing out loud at me as I tumble down staircases or walk into the side mirrors of trucks which are (to be clear and a little openly bitter) the EXACT height of the middle of my forehead... Nope...

No one cares that I am meant to be admired and longed for by the likes of royalty and very influential sexual beings....

Oh David, do stop by more often!!!

(Or maybe if I could just be respected by that fast food drive thru guy who dumps my fries into the bag EVERY damn time instead of setting the fry container in the bag erectly as he was trained in Mc School to do...)

No one acknowledges that someday.... I will win some sort of fancy smancy award for being a good girl all these years and for my tireless support of the Circus Peanut farmers of America.

YUM!

But you are still here and I love that!!!!!

I have not been able to blog recently due to lack of a life and even the slightest resresemblance  to  normalcy.......So I humbly sit here today typing away to renew my relationship with all of you beautiful people and to thank you for stopping by!

Clothes are optional here of course.

I am not wearing any right now and no one has said a dang thing to me yet.... Oh yes, they do stare (obviously noticing the fact that my bra and panty match my toenail color... (obviously) and that I have scars from major surgery that seem to be forming a Kanji symbols on my stomach .......and that is just totally rad right??...... (EXCEPT for the fact that when I looked up the Kanji strokes... it was the word "Ignorant"... No,,, I am not making this up,,, this is my life... *sigh*)

Stay tuned right here and I hope to come back and enlighten you on things such as (but not limited to) how to drop glass objects with style and flair... or... why sparkles saved the world from turning into a Tron game... or my favorite... Why Spam should be your favorite gelatinous smothered treat!!

Until then... I will offer you this random picture of a very sad muffin..

Yes, all of my posts are full of random frivolity and a lack of proper adulting skills ,,,,,, maybe that is why you are here.... I think I get it now!!! :)

Swirls of nonsense mixed with nuggets of absurdity

I guess maybe when I dance in a beam of sun I COULD be construed as crazy.
But maybe YOU are crazy because you don't.

What do we miss each day as we speed to work to fight the dragons of financial gain?

Did I just yell at my kid because he was actually doing something wrong or because I was just in a hurry and he wasn't moving "in my time" the way he should have?

Is this the way I want to start my day?

Weekday mornings grip me with the reality that there is much to be cleaned, organized and completed before the work day even starts. But that work week could blur by and I would be none the happier. The stress I feel there is comparable with the stress I feel of not stacking up.

And I don't.

I am swimming in a endless lap pool of stress. I need something to relieve this pressure.

So I dive into another pool.

An unlimited pool of creativity that only I can present to a blank page that will never judge my relevance or sanity. You might question both of those and more, but the curser on the page begs to be stroked, I must massage it with nonsense.

One day I pray my financial dragons will be slain by this gift of words and imagery, but until then I am paid by the diversions of my own insanity.

Thoughts like these envelope reality in a haze:


I wonder if the Mime is REALLY stuck in a glass box,,,
but because we can't actually SEE the box we walk away to let him rot there.

Why doesn't he just exhale on one of the confining glass walls and write the word "help"?

Surely then we would believe and offer help in his plight.

Why isn't he a spokesperson for Windex? He of all people would KNOW the dangers of perfectly streakless glass more than the smartass crows they are currently advertising with! HMU Windex!

I don't know, it's just a thought that has a million pesky afterthoughts.

And then there is the lady on TLC's show "Strange Addiction" that eats toilet paper. I wonder if she is actually just multi-tasking. I submit that if she'd eat wet-wipes, she would feel so much more fresh and clean. The Charmin bears should try this too. I don't care what brand of toilet paper you use, if you can't aim properly for your assal extremities, you're gonna have issues.

The parents of the twin girls on the commercial for "Invisalign" braces piss me off too. One kid is saying she can't eat popcorn, while the other boasts that SHE can. One has to wear headgear (aka-the end of any possible chance of popularity) the other doesn't. What the hell would ANY parent be thinking if this were actually a realistic portrayal? One kid gets to shop a the thrift store...And the other says "I don't, I shop at Nieman Marcus!".

Wait, that REALLY happened to me!!! I was not the favorite in my home. *moves to floor in fetal position and rocks back and forth*

And now you know why I am like I am.

FREE ebook today!!

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This is a pic from a book my son and I wrote together and I would love for you to share it with your kids!

The Superhero-ish Journals of Harv Anderson Snooterbutton.

Please enjoy.

IT'S SO FLOOFY!!!!!!

I know, I know, I stole the title from that minion movie, I am scandalous,,, let's move on please.....

I need to start blogging more and I will. I solemnly swear to this....

...as I stand here, wind blowing my hair back, in a superheroish pose, sparkles littering the world as they fly off my eyelids....

So for all *one* of you still reading my blog.... Here ya go....

Everyday I get up and go to work and everyday I feel I have betrayed my soul. Someone so whimsical and imaginative should not be sitting behind a desk and dealing with the general public. Especially when that general public has a penchant for screaming at you for something you have no control over. Their grumbling over such trivial things is frustrating. I want to scream;

"Eat a Circus Peanut for cripes sake!"

(Little known fact: Circus Peanuts contain the powers of happiness as they are made by the compressed farts of unicorns, dusted with the hopes and dreams of Gerbils and delicately "flipper" shaped by baby harp seals. If you taste a salty aftertaste whilst consuming a Circus Peanut you will have 8 years of whimsy as you have consumed the magical tear of harp seal. You're welcome for the information as this is knowledge that only the super enlightened are privy to)

The other day I got yelled at for sending a refund. A REFUND! This refund was too small to validate the customer's time. Her time is commodity, it should be respected and now she has to spend gas money AND time to take it into her bank (in town) and deposit it. Apparently, calling us and screaming at me about said refund for 20 minutes was a great use of that aforementioned "precious" time, who knew?

I begin to wonder. What would I do with MY time should I ever be financially blessed enough to throw the 10 hour workdays behind me. My mind flutters with happiness in that thought.
　
My first day would be spent as follows:

I would go to a fabric store. I know exactly what fabric I am looking for; lime green fur. When I find it I will spend the first 10 minutes rubbing it on my face and enjoying the full, floofy factor. I will then take the entire floofaliscious bolt and "try" to pretend it is a light saber by challenging the other less fabulous bolts of fabric to a duel. My bolt is heavier and longer than me so this will not end well, but I could not call myself a true Star Wars fan if not attempted. And as a side note: my sound effects would be "spot on".

I will search for the foam aisle next. It is important that the foam I choose have an appropriate "squish" factor. I have all day so I take my time. Once found I will place the yardage of foam next to my now disheveled bolt of limey, floofy goodness. I will then trot off superfluously for to the "Fluff" section of the store. I am looking for pillow stuffing.

Soon I would discover the perfect fluff to air ratio I return to my other treasured goods.

I gleefully lay the foam down in the aisle measuring just a smidge over 4ft 11' of foam with the tape measure I snatched from the lady behind the counter (Don't worry, I replaced it with a feather boa, she was miffed but stunning). Next I cover the foam with the lime floofy fur and lay the pillow fluffing (still in the bag) at the top of my "fabric store napping extravaganza spot" (or FSNES for short). I deduce that jersey fabric in a watery turquoise blue will make a fine blanket so I retrieve some.

My FSNES is complete!!!

Finally can enjoy the fruits of my labor and I ceremoniously plop down. The plastic of the pillow packet causes my face to stick and sweat but it is worth it because every time I move it lets a little air out and the bag "whistle farts", this amuses me.

Soon the blue aproned, fabric store defenders find me and threaten me with serious action.

I question their authority:

"Why do you not have a fabric covered fabric store police badge?" I ask them.

I call out their ultra-authoritative fabric store shenanigans until the blue lights outside start reflecting on the sparkle section of the store. This casts a rainbow glow on the ceiling and walls.

"I am magical!!" I say loudly "Look around at the sparkling beauty I bestow upon this establishment!!"

They are NOT amused.

I explain to the ACTUAL police that I was trying out the bedding materials as I would be making portable "napping extravaganza spots" (or NES's) for the children of Zimbabawaee as I am a giver. Now I am exalted as a hero and the blue aproned fabric store defenders feel like schlubs having ever questioned my sanity. I advise them vociferously that their merchandise is subpar and leave the store, purchasing nothing, but leaving behind my FSNES for the other shoppers to enjoy (you're welcome).

All I wanted to do is have an exotic "destination" nap in the middle of the day.

Is that so much to ask for a Zimbabawaee humanitarian  icon such as myself? Really?

Depressed by the outcome I go to Wendys and order a large Frosty.

Their machine is down. Their freaking machine is ALWAYS down!! WTF Dave!!!???

It takes hours to get the lime floofy fur remnants out of my hair and off of my clothes and it causes me to chafe in unnatural places.

Still a better day than being at work.