I was a good, responsible person today. I crockpotted so i have dinner for a few days, throwing a bunch of meat and veggies in the miracle machine and hoping it doesn’t suck (chicken breast, squash, broccoli, carrots, mushrooms, garlic, and artichoke hearts, in case you were curious). I updated my resume and applied for some tutoring jobs. I even took out the trash.
I was responsible. Can I get a reward? An atta boy? A heckin good job? A bowl of ice cream?
I am lying next to you, your head nestled beneath my chin. Your hair tickles, but your arm, draped over my chest, feels warm. A comfort. A comfort because I have someone that holds me, and someone to hold. I have someone to take care of, and someone that takes care of me.
I tweet…a lot. I tweet to promote my books. I tweet to promote other people’s books. I belong to a group called Rave Reviews Book Club, where we retweet each others novels and blogs, etc. It’s a pretty cool group, and though it has a small membership fee, the increase in book sales is worth it.
But I’m not here to promote Rave Reviews. I’m here to talk about the evolution of my Twitter account.
Ok, you all know that despite not being a dad, I am a purveyor and connoisseur of dad jokes. I’ve posted jokes with the laughing dog meme before, even the Rick Grimes meme. Lately I’ve been obsessed with the “family groaning at a restaurant while dad laughs” meme. I’ve decided to bless you all with some of my favorites.
You’re welcome 😀
Or, you can hate me forever. Either way, credit goes to @IFindItFunny2. This is some exquisite punishment.
Ever have one of those days when you’re angry at the world and don’t know why? Of course you have. You’re human…unless you’re not, in which case I politely ask that you don’t anal probe me.
Note: I was going to find a funny anal probe meme…never image search “anal probe.” Ever. EVER!!!!
Today is one of those days. I’m just a great big bloated gassy ball of rage…extra gassy…I’m surprised that Katie hasn’t left me. I could literally drive her away with my methane exhaust (she’s actually very tolerant of it. She’s a fucking saint).
I’m an anger ball. I love that term. I picked it up from the movie “Playing By Heart,” a pretty good movie that has one of the finest casts every put together. It fits me perfectly today, because I could bounce off of the walls…get it? Like a ball…an anger ball.
So I should be working hard on writing and/or editing, but instead I’m watching Rurouni Kenshin on Netflix (they added Season 3!) between grinding on Diablo III. Part of me wants to drown my rage in egg rolls (not exactly drowning), but I’ll probably be madder at myself later.
Anger ball. It should be a sport. The national pastime. I just have to come up with some rules…I’ll have to get back to you on this.
Stay thirsty…no, don’t. Get a fucking drink. Get me one too.