Sunday, August 08, 2010


Drown the Bastage!


"Huh? Mmph ... hello? Hello?"

"Oh hi, it's me. We have a problem."

"Dude do you know what freakin' time it is?"

"Yeah, I know, I know, but this couldn't wait. Like I said, we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Well, you know that blog we found last week?"

"I don't like where this is going."

"There's a problem with it. I can't make it do what it's supposed to do. I named it George (see tagline) and I hugged it and squished it, but now I can't make it tell stories. And it's making ... demands."


"Well, sort of orders. And there has been biting."


"Yes, when I wouldn't bring it another beer and some Cheetos. And it's been in the bath for three hours now! It says it won't tell any stories until some rabbit comes back but the rabbit's busy dyeing wool for a bear in Michigan and the rabbit's father had a mild stroke and she has to move house and she's too busy to come back and now I don't know what to dooooo ...."


"Hang on, hang on. This blog said it belongs to a rabbit?"

"Yes, I think so."

"And now it won't tell any stories until the rabbit comes back, but it wants Cheetos and beer and it's lying in the bath?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. What do I do?"

"Fucked if I know. You've found Rabbitch's blog. I wouldn't touch that with a ten-foot pole. If I were you I'd wait until it's had enough beer and then drown the bastage in the bath!"

"But ... but ... it's so little and cute and it says it's just a simple knitting blog! How could I drown it?"

"Quite frankly, I suspect that it would manage to kill you before you killed it. I'm gonna hang up now. Buddy, you're on your own with this one."

"But wait! Don't leave me with ..."


*snicker-snort* Now I want some cheetos too..
Don't leave us hanging on the edge of our seats! What happens next?
No! Please don't drown George in the tub! George is my friend. My friend who is so like me-ignores, ignores, ignores, then WHAM! Pays attention like everything is great!

(Seriously, though. Hope Dad recovers quickly and completely. Peace to you.)
I love you SO HARD :-) Please don't drown George.

(also hoping your Dad makes a full and speedy recovery and moving house goes smoothly)
Sending lots of positive thoughts and white light and whatever else you need (other than CHeetos and beer - that seems to be under control) to help you through this and give you what it takes to handle your Dad's illness and the move and all.
Echoing Helen and Lise and adding my own sendings of hope and positivity to you. If George has to take a backseat to Life for a while, then so be it. Take care of yourself, your family (so sorry to hear about Dad), your moving, your dyeing, and like that. You know we'll all be here waiting when you...and George...get back. And I'll throw in some homegrown homemade plum jam and a loaf of homemade bread to go with the Cheetos and beer!
Chin up, best foot forward, and so on!
Aw, the verification word I got this time is "purness". Thus, I shall send you also all the purring of mai kittehs to help things along.
Hmmm, sounds like the best thing to do is to give the blog some cheetos and beer and let it sit there in the bath until other things are more settled. Sending good thoughts...
The puffy kind or the gnarly kind? Let me know and I'll make a trip up north.
Sending light and love... take care of life, we'll take care of George. big warm hugs
I wouldn't let George eat Cheetos in the bath---that orange cheese will leave such a ring in the tub... All the best for Dad's full and speedy recovery. And after you've moved house, there should be lots of fine tales to share about that experience. We'll hang around and wait. NO pressure, of course.
Guest blogger??? You could get you one of those. How about that guy named Beth... you know, I think he was Italian and about my height and works at Smitty"s???
I wuv oo.
You are sooo worth waiting for!

Here's wishing you good vibes while you *deal* with all the stuff crashing on you right now. Our best to your Dad -- strokes suck eggs.

Thinking of you til you come back.
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