This whole NaBloPoMo thing has me all fucked up. I want to tell more stories of my past but at the same time I don't want to blow my load all in one month. I'm afraid my blog is just going to turn into another mommy blog or in my case mother blog.You know the ones that say: "I went to the store today and pushed the cart around with junior in it, he tried to grab a can of beans, isn't he so cute?" BLAAAAAACCCHHHHH. Plus I would like for more people to read the good stuff. My ego needs stroking, amongst other parts of me. Speaking of stroking, I got something I gotta do. I'll be right back.
OK I'm back, that didn't take long. One thing that has me really confused is no one is taking me up (ha ha I said up) on my offer for Trash Juice. What's wrong with you ladies out there. This is the good stuff at discount prices. Tell you what if you order by Black Friday I'll give you the guaranteed pregnancy at the one shot price. If you want old fashioned baby making you'll still have to make a deal with Jen.
Tomorrow I will do my First Annual Shit I'm Thankful For Post. I'm not sure how it's gonna turn out yet, but it should be interesting. So you fuckers need to take some time away from the family and check my post and be sure you fucking comment. If the family ask you what you're doing, just tell them you're having some quality Trash time. If they push the issue, hit them in the head with a drumstick or ham bone. I don't care which, just hit them, they shouldn't be coming between us.
Another thing. I've been checking my tracker. I'm getting a lot more visitors than commenter's. Don't be shy people. Comment two or three times. I live off that shit. I'll try to comment on y'all more often. You know me, I'm a giving kind of guy. Speaking of giving. I have a dilemma.
What do you get a woman for Christmas, that already has the best gift in the world? I mean Jen is married to me, what more could she ask for? I don't drink (anymore). I don't do drugs (anymore). I'm not out whoring around (anymore). I go to work and come home and cook and clean and do laundry and pay the bills and do the shopping (I'm a better shopper). I'm a great fucking guy, other than the fact that I'm a loud, overbearing, obnoxious, opinionated, control freak sort of asshole, I am the perfect man. Fuck it. I AM THE PERFECT MAN. There I said it. Anyway the perfect man needs some ideas what to get the woman married to the perfect man. Got any?
Keep on keeping on.