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Fight the sad with the silly

Anyone else having a shitastic week like me? Well, sorry to hear.

I’ve been to two funerals in less than a week, my city had a horrific shooting not far from where my husband works (you might have seen it on the news). But worst of all, found out a dear childhood friend took her life. I will post a blog about that later. I can’t get myself to hit the ‘publish’ button yet, because I know her family is still trying to wrap their head around it. They read my blog. So it’s tricky.

Sometimes I get so sad, I can cry all day. But then, I’m so tired from crying, that I start laughing at really stupid shit. I mean, like stupid, dumb-ass memes on the internet and stuff. Or an episode of Spongebob. Or The Office, or Will Ferrell on SNL. Or my kids. Holy crap- they are fucking hilarious and we all know this.

So here’s to me swearing like a sailor and just posting silly shit- ready? Here goes:

Emma is a fabulous joke teller- when she was 4 she made up a joke. Or at least she said she did. She didn’t always tell the truth so I’m going to say she made it up and hope no one comes after her 20 years from now with a lawyer and claims trademark infringement or something. Here’s the joke,

Q~”What do you call a blind dinosaur?”

A~”an I-Don’t-Think-He-Saurus”

Yeah, am I right? Brilliant.

Then she told me this joke the other day-

“What did the number zero say to the number eight?”

Answer- “Nice belt”

Then there’s Internet memes and funny cat pictures and someecards.com. I’m a sucker for someecards. And Blunt Cards.

So here’s a collection of my top favorites-

And here’s to looking on the bright side soon.

I didn’t create this one- But swear to GOD I said this to my kids YEARS ago.

This movie, this scene- cracks. me. up.

This baby gets me every time.

At some point, this seemed like a funny idea.

And all this time I thought it was shoes that made me look fat.

Please excuse me while I complain

I’m feeling a little honeybadgerish now. Or stabby. Or just downright bitchy.

My apologies. If you don’t like swear words, rants, or any references to PMS, then stop reading. Or if you are married to me, you can stop reading also.

Yes, hormones can do a number on us all. Why even men can be total dicks if they have too much testosterone. Think of steroids. Dickwads.

Now there’s estrogen. Good lord, how much of this stuff do we need coursing through us? Well, enough I guess to keep us from growing facial hair and large Adam’s apples. But geeze. Sometimes I would just love to be some asexual being crawling along the ocean floor.

Or a honey badger. I think a honey badger doesn’t know the difference between a good day, and a PMS day. They just don’t give a shit.

Namaste Mutha Fuckahs!

Yesterday I got all mad at the hubs for leaving dishes in the sink and dishwasher over the entire weekend I left him alone and took the kids to the beach. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so mad if going to the ‘beach’ didn’t require a 4 hour drive in the pouring rain and a weekend of my two kids bickering over what DVD they get to watch in what bedroom. AND, getting to cook and clean just like at home. Not that I am not grateful for our wonderful friends having us over to their family beach house. But there wasn’t room service, laundry service or any nannies. I did it to give the hubs a break. Not make MORE work for me.

Okay, I’m over it. It’s fine. He’s sorry. I’m sorry.

My apologies for this ridiculous, useless blog post. Unless of course, you are feeling stabby too and maybe this helped you from actually stabbing someone, or something.

Stolen from the Bloggess' Zazzle store. Get some. It might cheer you up.