Forgot about the bloggo in real life, but dreamt I posted last night and checked for comments this morning, thinking I had posted three times, and good stuff too.
Heard the wah wah music then stepped on a rake this morning.
Confession: I too thought Kathleen was talking about some sort of weird mom tub/container with her “nursing tank.” When I related to GC the content of the post, I couldn’t remember the word but described it as “I can’t remember what she called it but Kathleen is in some sort of thing/device that she sleeps in for nursing, but [somehow this was not the part of the story that was of note] she reinvented sleeves. Isn’t Kathleen hilarious with her sleep deprivation? HAHAHHAA”
Sleep deprivation < my apparent brain damage.
Mystery ombuds to regale us with our suckiness soon. However, it would be novel if I got Deborah Edit Howell Edit, formerly of the WaPo. Then she could just be a blog apologist and reader antagonist.
EDIT EDIT EDIT- My clipboard did not paste the correct link. God this place is a trainwreck of incalculable proportions.
In other news, sucks it. Take it to the ombuds, lady, that’s what it’s for.
We interrupt this barely tolerable attempt at blogging to bring you an important announcement! Your humble ombudspersonmoose has taken the unusual step of requesting time off during this busy blogging season, in order to butter better himself through other, more savoury means.
Leave has been granted by our illustrious reader, and salary will be adjusted accordingly.
BUT! Because we love you, and want to keep annoying Pinko whenever possible, we have made arrangements for a MYSTERY OMBUDSPERSON to fill in on our behalf pro tempore. I have requested and received permission for this appointment, and service is expected to resume, pending acceptance of the terms of employment, and an orientation at the offices of 3Bulls! World Domination Enterprises:
A possibility of extension (you’re welcome, Filthbot) should also be mentioned, pending review.
There is none! It’s someone else’s problem now! Later, chumpwads!
I think it would be worth a brunch meeting at least.
I don’t think she should have eaten a ton of bricks, but the laziness at play here with the previous monstrosities on display by Our Maureen suggest she should have been disposed of long ago, and the current crime be noted specifically in reference to her previous crimes, an excuse for greatest hits.
Of course the punch was pulled. To do otherwise would be to refuse to pee in fish’s cornflakes.
Another tape purported to be from the pre-film career days of Pinko Punko was leaked to us. Tossed over the transom in an unmarked envelope, the tape was labeled only “June 27, 2005”. However, several members of our staff think that his appearance is closer to his recent PPII appearances than to the previously leaked demo reel. Our trace evidence experts have determined that a fiber found in the envelope came from a red track suit.
(Warning: Contains significant levels of Phil Collins content.)
Besides the fact that Maureen O’Hara always seems to strike me as a teensy bit extremely tightly wound, I think this is one of John Ford’s better scenes, if only because our very own Dilettante appears to be highly honored by the regimental singers.
I love the “oh crap” looks on their faces. I imagine C. failing to take the credit for the awesome serenade of K., except it might involve some World of Warcraft shenanigans and K. Skyping C. her disappointment from three feet away.
So, I am debased to the point of of using FaceBookShit for blogging. It is the filth, that is humanity… It was a FB post by someone I respect, that talked about the lack of respect by the Kids these Days… I demurred… I have to say, Melissa, that I disagree. Our son came […]
You guys need lessons in insulting people. When you make up words that only a few understand and know, (i.e., "cobag") and then proceed to used that word with mind-numbing frequency, you really communicate nothing. If the word is not understood, no meaning is conveyed. For example, If I gave the honest appraisal that the writing in this blog is pedomorphic and tardiloquent, and repeated this summation over and over, you would probably think nothing, because it would take you too long to collect enough soda cans to buy a dictionary and discover the meaning. You would never feel insulted, because you were absolutely clueless. Hence, when someone from the outside your little circle of featherbrains comes to visit your site, they are not impressed with your oft repeated term "cobag". It means nothing to them. For all they know, you are a gang of tards with computers, and these five keys repeately get struck by accident when you see the backside of a sheep and your drool-laden pacifier falls out of your mouth and onto the keyboard. Believe me, I speak the truth. If you google the word "cobag", most of the results are from posts by the contributors of this blog. What does that tell you? Enjoy your little world, cobags.