I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE this motel!

I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE this motel! The sex is FANTASTIC!! Forget Elmo, forget the offspring, forget home, I just want to lay here and have sex vicariously through these two sexaholics. I sweated off five pounds in the last two days and I’m just listening! Besides, South never said I had to make it to his place to get those pics of Dan, he just said I had to write his updates, and I’ve been doing that. Along with a hell of a lot of jilling off.
Unfortunately Mr. G over nighted me a Tom Tom GPS system, along with a note that I had to get home pronto pronto or he’d kick my ass. That is bullshit bullshit. But I’m packing, damn it.
I just got off the phone with the offspring. Apparently there was a “Bless The Family Pet” ceremony at church on Sunday and the offspring decided that Holly needed to be an official lapsed Catholic like the rest of us. Not that they didn’t “baptize” the little punk on their own after we got her. As soon as I heard the words “Church” and “Holly,” I thanked God I wasn’t there. I said to Female Offspring #6, “Honey, what were you thinking? It was a baptism, NOT an exorcism, and that’s the only thing that will help that she devil at this point in time.“ Everything was going fine until some smart ass Pomeranian with a nasty ‘tude decided to sniff Holly’s ass and all hell broke loose. The offspring seem to think the Pomeranian didn’t like Holly cuz she’s a black Lab. I said, “Now, now. Let’s not bring the race card into this.”
Apparently the cops showed up at the trailer, too, while I was away and told the offspring that I have to stop running my ad during late night cable tv, asking for donations to my “help the children” campaign. I went so far as to send the donors a picture and letter about each of the children that they adopted financially for the year just like that Sally Struthers chick does. Is it my fault they didn’t realize the kids were mine? I even made the kids write them a monthly letter to keep them updated on their “adopted” child’s “progress.” The people alleged that I said the kids were from a Third World Country. WRONG. I said they were from the Third World Trailer Court and Tackle Shop. Anywho, everything was fine until Male Offspring #7 asked his sponsor for a new DVD player. Greedy little punk. Where am I going to get money for our rice and powdered milk now?
I was watching tv at the café Sunday morning and they had some religious program on. At the end the woman said, “Remember, Jesus cares for you and so do we.” Jesus CARES for me?! He used to LOVE me. When did I get downgraded to CARING??
My definition of hilarious: Adrienne Curry making fun of Paris Hilton for being stupid. Even funnier is Curry saying of Baywatch, “The show enriched NO ONE,” as opposed to her show, My Fair Brady, which has enriched countless lives the world over.
As if that Head On commercial wasn’t annoying enough, now they have someone interrupt the commercial to say that while the product works, they hate Head On’s ad. Well, guess what? I hate the person that interrupts the commercial that I hate.
Just my thought but Most Extreme Elimination Challenge (MXC) on Spike is one of THE DUMBEST SHOWS I’ve ever had the misfortune of having to watch while waiting for my meal. And why do I just know it probably appeals to the same crowd that like Star Trek?
I’m actually typing up the last part of this post from my own driveway. I just can’t bring myself to get out of the car and go back to insane trailer life…..sigh. The offspring are screaming and pounding on my windows and I’m going into “mother mode” aka I pretend I can’t see or hear them.
Song that I heard way too many times on the drive home? “About Us” by Brooke Hogan. When did this rich white chick turn ghetto? In her overproduced song, she talks about how the press won’t leave her alone and says, “Picture yourself up in my shoes, top story in the news.” Uh huh sure. Then she goes on to utter the classic line, “I’m just trying to live but you’re all up in my grill.” Poor Brooke. The imaginary media police are all up in her grill and chasin’ her all over da imaginary ‘hood.
I never did find a TMX Elmo so, parents, you know what you have to do. If your child really wants this toy, NOW is the time to start laying the groundwork so he/she doesn’t experience bitter disappointment come Christmas morn. (I was scarred for life when Santa didn’t bring my Chrissy Doll!) Every now and then drop something negative about Elmo into the conversation like, “I heard that Elmo smokes cigarettes” or “Elmo giggles so much because he‘s high on marijuana.” Then shake your head as if you’re disgusted with Elmo.
Ok, there’s no ignoring the inevitable. I gotta get out of this car and email this drivel to South. But I’ll leave you with this: guys, you’ve always wanted to be a porn star? Well, here’s your chance…