Now, this is an award that apparently requires work. Which I would complain about, but since the "work" really just calls for me to mostly talk about myself, I'm not all that put out. First, I tell you some crap that I'm obsessed with. Which--when you're dealing with a neurotic bag like myself--is probably like asking Elton John to choose his favorite pair of glasses. Or, or, or, like asking Bond--James Bond to select his favorite ho-bag. OR! Or it's like asking Michael Jackson to pick his favorite--well, maybe we'll leave it at that.
It's franky impossible, I'll tell you.
Good thing I'm amazing and specialize in the impossible. So, here's my list of FIVE current obsessions:
1. Loft House fucking Cookies.
I'm sure they're filled with instant cancer, and that only makes me love them more.
This probably doesn't need much of an explanation, but probably DOES need a 5 Step Plan for addicts or something. It like being at the airport to people watch, but you don't even need to leave your COUCH! I don't think it gets much better than that. Unless you add something illegal. Then it's, well, it's illegal. And I'm a
3. The things my son (Plus One) says.
Me: [Humming, "We've Got to Get Out of This Place" by the Animals]
Son: What you singing, Mommy?
Me: We've Got to Get Out of This Place!
Son: Oh NO! How we get OUT?! How we get OUT OF THIS PLACE?!
These disGUSTing creatures have completely consumed this really nice plant I had outside. And LOOK! I'm a domestic talking about PLANTS! CUTE! But seriously, these bugs are on the level of roaches to me, which says a lot because one time I was babysitting and I when I turned out the lights *shudder* they were CRAWLING ON MY ARM. I spent the rest of the night with the kids in the kitchen, lights a-blazin'.
5. T9's poop.
I know. It' the stuff us mom's should really never talk about. But I'm telling you, this kid has the pooping issues of a 90 year old man. Do they make Metamucil for babies? Because they should.
On that note, I'll be passing along the torch to the following awesome blogs:
I'm Not Benny: I know, I KNOW. You're like, "Geeze, Kristine. How far up this guy's ass are you going to crawl?" But he's JUST. THAT. FUNNY. And I don't think I've blessed him with an award yet.
Zipbag of Bones: Cat is another one of those bloggers that makes me feel like an amateur. The kind of writer that makes me laugh without the bucketloads of FUCKS and CAPITAL LETTERS.
Some Guy's Blog: I've been reading "this guy"'s blog for a while now and his videos are the reason YouTube was invented, in my opinion.
I know I'm totally cheating, but this blog is a new find for me and really hilarious and even her comments make me giggle, so the extra award goes to Yellow Trash Diaries.
PS: Mr. London--I just wanted you to know that I considered you for this award, but thought you probably would be annoyed with it. So, there's that. Here's where you tell me that it was an honor to even be nominated.