Tragic Wednesday

I have been down on my knees crying and screaming to God, “Why me? Why meeeeeeeeee?” I have sunburn. It hurts. I told Mr. Snort he needs to come home post haste so that I can go to the ER and possibly get admitted to the burn unit because let’s face it:  I am capable of feeling far more pain than any other person on the face of the Earth. All of the doctors want to examine me because I have so many health problems that the regular public does not.

Mother and Father Snort abandoned me, Mr. Snort, and our wee babes today. Selfish bastards. What could be more important than watching my kids so I can sleep, cleaning my house, paying my bills, and booking spa services for me? Um, hello! I am their only daughter. Even though I am quite certainly most possibly miffed I did pack them a picnic basket full of black rice, hemp hearts, hemp intestines, hemp brains, homemade Skippy peanut butter, and a dozen raw eggs in a Ziploc baggie (with a straw) so they wouldn’t get hungry on their trip home.

Footlong is excited that classes at his brick and mortar training center are starting again in two weeks. He is supposed to be going into the first grade, but I am lobbying the principal let him teach the first grade. He is already working on calculus and sculpting busts of presidents past. Last night built a working hot tub out of a large cardboard box, empty fish tank, a roll of paper towels, 3 strips of duct tape, a pack of D batteries, and an English muffin.

6-inch is a hot mess as usual. The first anniversary of his birth is Friday, but we celebrated last night so that Mother and Father Snort could enjoy it. Seeing as how my babe has 6 teeth I made him a birthday quinoa and clementine trifle. First, he refused to blow out the candles. To further spite me he then urinated on himself and squealed, “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Told him to use his adult words I did; he contemplated my request with a scrunched up thinking face then proceeded to rectally excrete a brick into his disposable toileting receptacle. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” replied I. I helped him to unwrap his gift (the complete writings of Danielle Steele and L. Ron Hubbards “Dianetics”). Awaited thanks I did but greeted was I instead with a look of confusement. Cheeky little buggar that one is.

I am headed to a wonderful convention a fortnight from present. I have been selling personalized rubber bands (click here for a voucher for a free rubber band ball with your first purchase!) from Acme, and I am a now a platinum sales qualifying elite consultant director princess. As this is a prestigious event where I will receive many accolades, love, money, and devotion (woo-hoo!) I have been shopping for the perfect business attire and have settled on this conservative number to accentuate all of my charms:

I have also decided to lose some weight before the convention to look my absolute best. I am down 89 pounds since June 1st! Can you tell how awesome I look and how thin I am?

I guess that is all for now. Footlong has written a one act play and wishes to direct me in his production of “My Mom Is Fucking Awesome.” Yeah, I know  ☺

Gab soon!

Love,
Snort

Snort Jackson
Platinum sales qualifying elite consultant director princess
Acme Personalized Rubberbands
“Let me help you get your stretch on!”
520-555-BAND

I had a great time with my mom and dad and don’t know when I’ll see them in person again. Footlong is excited about going to school. 6-inch is adorable, happy, chubby, and is just as much a blessing and joy as his brother. I do know how to dress appropriately for all occasions—above I was dressed for Halloween, and you are a stupid shit if you thought I was seriously wearing that outfit in public. Footlong does not use the F-word. I’m pretty sure Acme just sells products to capture roadrunners.

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30 thoughts on “Tragic Wednesday

  1. I'd be happy to keep them coming, Sweets, but I could use some ideas as to what I should blog about. My brain seems to be on lockdown most days.

  2. Ok, remember when I said I wasn't in love with you creepy like? I lied. I'm totally in love with you creepy like. You should be thankful that I cannot remotely afford to fly to where you live. Also? It's fucking hot there and I refuse. Well, it's fucking hot here too, but it's a hot with humidity that I know how to handle.

  3. I am sitting here laughing right now, Kristi!!! You can creepy love me all you like; I'm sending you creepy hugs as I type this. And, FYI, today is a rather cool day—only 100 degrees. I need to go grab a jacket because it is nipply in here.

  4. I'm thinking I should start my own Acme or Snort MLM and make a shit ton of money off of everybody else doing the work. Want to be part of my downline?

  5. Love you post Snort! I see your feet have lost so much weight. Stay away from the funnel cake. I hear it's a diet killer. Takes weeks to get over eating it. Can't wait for your next post. Your Friend, Lindy

  6. Love reading you Snort. Ahhh, soo funny. I guess if I wasn't familiar with swmnbn I wouldn't get it at all…but I get every little bit of it and it's hilarious. Love your work appropriate attire. Love G in the pool, rock on babe!

  7. Ohmyword. I laughed so hard at your convention outfit I nearly woke the kids! I have been reading here (and there forever). I needed this post. Many thanks Snort!

  8. One question.. Why are you in the pool with your child? I thought life guards took care of children at pools? Also, I am saving up to send a fixed wing aircraft to you so that your sunburn can be appropriately diagnosed and treated. Can you just rub some chia seed oil on it until I get the funds together?Since I am so far away, you will have to accept a ((hug)) from the internet. I saw you were once again abandanoned. So you are really almost a single parent again, off and on basically. Perhaps if you moved to a new home and started over that would help?

  9. BWAHAHAHAHA! Laughing out loud (literally) again! Thanks for the smiles this morning. Your outfit fucking rocks, and I'm pretty sure you should not wait until Halloween comes again to wear it.

  10. I'm glad you like reading here. This persona of mine is "MockMama." As for my work attire, some folks like to wear teal and orange together, and I prefer to dress like a flapper. Isn't G hysterical? That photo is from last summer while I was (very) pregnant with P, and I told G to smile funny—and he was all of a sudden Alice Cooper.

  11. Yeah, Mom, I tried to find a lifeguard for our pool so I could do my own thing, but they laughed at me; I was, therefore, forced to attend to my child. Hurry up and get that fixed wing aircraft here. Do you have any idea how important I am?!? Can you send me money for a down payment to get into a new home? I figure $40,000 would be ample.

  12. Glad I made you laugh, Casey! Yeah, I will probably be wearing it again this halloween. If I pay $75 for something I generally like to wear it more than once. I see myself being a flapper for Halloween until 6-inch finishes high school.

  13. True story: I once managed to get a blistering sunburn. On my cleavage. Uh, it was a lot, a lot painful. I passed out in my mother's kitchen because it REALLY. FUCKING. HURT. I am a speshul snowflake and my sunburn was the worst the doctor had EVER seen. He had to contact a renowned sunburn specialist and I was very probably almost sent to the hospital by fixed-wing aircraft.(Kidding about everything but the passing out part. I couldn't sleep on my stomach or wear a bra for like two weeks and I felt like a dumbass. WEAR SUNSCREEN!)Sincerely,SweetFancyJerkwad

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