So, in what I’m sure is a time honored tradition of folks who don’t know what to write about, I looked for a post on the blogs I read that I could
I am not writing a book and I do not have kids.
Really it appears to be as simple as that, because I love my friends I reallyreallyreally do, but here is a list of the most recent posts from my non-spawning, non-author friends:
~movies that the public library showed for free this fall September 2008): now granted, she has been very busy playing with rats and planning a wedding, and from this wedding I’m sure it will only be a small step to rugrats, at which point she will (from the looks of it) have tons to write about.
~how very ass-cold it is in Indiana (which is not Virginia): this is not fair of me…totally not fair. I shouldn’t make fun of the fact that someone I care about is cold and misses folks, but this blog is supposed to be funny and I get the sneaking suspicion I will be forgiven. I will also note that this was the first post in about 2 months here, and based on the current temperatures I’m pretty sure it’s far to cold to take off enough clothes to make babies, and working a 65+ hour work week doesn’t leave much time to write a book.
~the static style of some French playwright I have never heard of: Bless her heart, she does post daily, but she also has the bitching-about-the-flaws-in-obscure-shit market cornered. I cannot hope to compete…nor can you…and if you did I’m sure she would find some reason you were doing it wrong.
~jeopardy: well you know what? Jeopardy wasn’t on last night. It was preempted because the news had to extend their coverage of an airplane crash in which everyone was rescued safely and the NTSB had not yet released any information. This was also the first post in a month, and while I’m sure we would all love for him to be writing a book (and I am not even going to consider the other option here) he is sadly not.
And not to leave myself out of the ribbing…
~used clothes: and if I can’t write I blog post I certainly am not writing a book. Also I am looking at getting a Do Not Enter sign tattooed on my cervix…alas, no hope in sight.
…so, who’s still talking to me, we can go out for