Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Preamble and general foreplay for the Car Bomb.

I am not sure why it has taken me nearly three days to write this.  Possibly because I was emotionally wiped out.  Who knew you could get your ass kicked by a cupcake (they are deceptive little fuckers.)  Maybe it's because they are Irish, maybe because I was hung over as all hell, possibly because my wing man fucked off to the Alps for a few days, but I really think it is because of the added pressure.  We have followers.  We jumped 100 last night alone.  I get that these are not epic numbers in the grand scheme of things, but this blog has only been out a week.

I direct you to the number in the corner not "the many faces of French buttercream frosting"

I have composed many a pithy and amusing remark in my head as I eased back into the day to day of normal life.  Waltzing around the super market (as one does) with The Monkey - singing Old MacDonald at a volume that is most decidedly not set at "inside voice", only to be left hanging my my daughter's meek "quack quack" -  I am mentally drafting this post.  It is hilarious.

But is what's hilarious in the cheese section of afore mentioned super market or down right riotous in the egg/nut/smoked sausage section funny when I try to write it down?  Don't get me wrong I am a legend in my own lunch time, down right frikkin' fantastic I would go so far to say, but this madness it my "happy place". Cupcakes and cursing what more could you ask for?  I get to goof off with one of my best friends, bake happy treats and then write about it.  Here I can actually write what is on my mind without filter or censor and not have a two your old repeat it back to me at inopportune moments (I refer you to "fuckgate" of six months ago.)  I was not prepared though, for all of you lot to actually start following.  What if I let you down?  I now pause to go and parent.  Nap time over.

Day two of writing this, and have had a certain amount of perspective shoved in my face.  Literally.

This is me.  This happened this morning.  As annoying as it was, I thought "this will make people laugh" and wanted to share it through the Book of the Face.  I decided to try to use an emoticon for the first time.  You know those little thingamajig at the side of your posting saying you are feeling "all the feels" or doing "all the things".  I was wrong.

On my phone, I added I was "feeling pissed" with the appropriate facial expression, which accurately summed my feeling to the whole shit-in-face debacle.  I have now been educated in the stark differences between "American" (and yes you get brackets as you have single handedly butchered the English language.  This is not stream-lining. Its laziness) and, well real English. As I write this, I'm waiting for child protective services to show up at my door for being "shit-faced" (literally) at 9.30am.  I am funny.  Maybe not always intentionally but I was shown the light.

Meanwhile in the Alps, a certain Puerto Rican, who frankly has no business being there, is having fun without me.

So before I start to actually write about the bloody cupcake let me share this with you.  I get shit in the face she gets this.....

So to you without further ado, I will now go on tell you about THE CAR BOMB.

Well I will when I start writing it, but this post has gone on long enough.


  1. Can't wait for the next instalment. And thanks for clearing up the 'feeling drunk' emoticon - I was slightly puzzled that you seemed to get a high from having dog poo in your fizzog :-)