WE meant to start writing this post several days ago, we really did. But every time we started, something came up: our [insert annoying and/or demanding person and/or persons and/or animal] kept begging for [insert whiny request that would not be ignored] and then the [insert aggravating event that forced a call to the plumber] and what were we to do? We’ll tell you what we were to do [insert stupid and/or exaggerated lie that could only be made up by a drunk monkey with something scary flying out of its butt]. We’re sure you’d do the same, were you in our position. Only we’re guessing you’d be complaining in a fashion that was a hell of a lot more eloquent-yet-less-rambling than ours.
ANYWAY, what were we saying, before we so rudely and/or strangely interrupted ourselves? Oh yeah — we meant to start this post a long, LONG time ago, in hopes of having it ready in time for something that was really really important to us. Sadly, we don’t remember what the hell it was, but we’re sure it was meaningful and that we should be more than remorseful for not having it ready in time. So now here we are, holding a bloggy bag of goodies, with no where to go but, um, home. Don’t blame us, blame our penchant for horrific procrastination — that’s who we are and/or what we do. Stupid us and/or that thing that kept us from doing all that other stuff we kept meaning to do.
THANK the lord and/or YouTube we located the following Helpful Video made in 1952 for people like us, who can do so much with so little, in order to avoid doing something more important. And thank Jeanne, who helped to inspire a whole bunch of new ways for us to avoid doing even more of the stuff we’re supposed to do. (you’ll see what we mean when you watch this silly clip)
HEY, at least Jeanne’s nails looked nice. And, we know Jim was pissed off, but holy crap. What a fucky little whiner. Had we been in Jeanne’s spot, we’d have been more than a little embarrassed by our poor planning skills. But that wouldn’t have stopped us from cramming a fistful of crepe paper down that fucker’s scrawny throat. Wah wah wah. Here Jim, you big baby, take this dime and call someone who cares about the crappy time you’ll be having at the dance. Oh, but Jim? Before you blame anyone else for a lousy evening stuck in the corner playing with yourself, take a peek in the mirror, pal. That’s right. That pimple-faced asshole is YOU, Jim. Yeesh, buy a case of Clearasil and call us in 1973. At least by then you’ll be able to grow out your hair and/or a beard, in order to hide that ugly mug you call a face.
AS FOR Jeanne? Somehow we suspect the rest of her life turned out about as well as that dance. Oh sure, she had a few laughs along the way, but, thanks to her “just do it later” attitude, Jeanne probably wound up unmarried, with 3 or 4 kids hanging off her hip. Nothing says “unwanted pregnancy” like a “good time” sans rubbers, in the backseat of some guy’s beat up Chevy. That Jeanne. (and yes, that was our clever and/or sneaky way of making some aspect of this post have to do with sex.)
OF course, had we bothered to watch this video before posting it, we’d have realized how poor the quality was, and probably tried to find something better to share. Too bad that didn’t happen. We’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: Damn us and our unrelenting penchant for horrific procrastination.
We think we’re supposed to link to Humor-blogs.com right about now, and we will, just as soon as we finish doing our nails.
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