Getting a Slavewife. Eat Me Now. Fucking your Mother-in-Law. Just wanted to repeat all of that to make sure I am getting back all of my regular viewership, since, clearly, the pweeverts and the libertines are the only people I am getting hits from.
That almost makes me want to become a Lady amd stop swearing. But then again. Nah. Can't fucking be bothered with that kind of bullshit discipline.
So this morning I had the pleasure of going to the dermatologist. I hadn't seen him since last he took a chunk out of my back following his nurse's call to tell me that I had a "little skin cancer." Funny that it was neither little nor skin cancer. But I digress. So, Dr. Zitzmor takes one look at the Freckle that is me and develops a spontaneous nervous tick in his face. Or maybe it was premature ejaculation. Difficult to tell.
Ixshnay on the lost Ingshray, says I. Let my beloved believe that all my fine works today weren't selfishly motivated. And believe you me, that decision certainly isn't selfishly motivated, either. But, honest to Allah. I believe in Miracles. Where you from? You Sexy Thing. (Sexy Thing You.) I believe in Miracles. Since you came along. You Sexy Thing. Aaaaaaaah, Kiss Me.
When I cut the single for that song, accompanied by the ukelele, all proceeds will be forwarded to the Annual Garbageman's Fund. Cuz a robotic hand shimmysham is a terrible thing to waste.
As you know, I'm the lead horse on the R. Kelly bandwagon of late. But God. Damn. How can I help it? I just saw a vid-yo for a diff'rent song ('Snake Remix', which is also a damn foine song as well) and slap me and call me baby if he didn't have the Finest. Looking. Girls. EVER. in his video. I was like, good gracious, ass bodacious. I'm now bi-sexual.
So, per certified letter today, our Social Security Administration has deemed me not able to competently complete my prior profession, so I'm not legally allowed to accept the job that is waiting for me, but not disabled to do any job. Sweet! So, I'll give any of yous the hook-up, because no doubt I get an employee discount of at least 20% off at K-Mart.
This song pleases me. Maybe more than it should. Believe it or not, it's not R. Kelly or remotely close. Go on. Look. Look, goddamit!
I got it from someone else's site, and while I want to be fancy like some people I know, and give credit where credit is due, I can't for the life of me find where I stole it from. But fear not, kittens, I'm sure tomorrow I'll be served with papers for copyright infringment.
Usually "Self-Help" books make me want to become bulimic, if only it would enable me to expertly stick my finger down my throat to make vomit. Everything I Learned, I Learned in Foster Homes ... Getting the Love You Wish Your Neighbor From Pluto Wasn't Getting ... Freeing your Inner Grandsire.
But people. Behold The Power of Now. My new Bible. Soon to be required reading for all of Jellyville. Yes, please.