Uncle Kay Kay

That's his dj name.   So I wrote him this whole email basically outlining all the reasons he needs to buy me a desktop computer.  Well, I didn't really outline reasons as much as I told him it was my birthday, I wanted one and I was his goddaughter.  See,  you start using the Big Guy upstairs and it becomes very hard to say no, Bloggy.  I mean we have a GOD BOND.  Somehow in some country, this converts to him purchasing me a desktop.  I know you get it.

Then I won't have to come to the library all the time to feed you, Bloggy.  For instance, today it is pouring rain.  Mama no wanna leave the comfort of her old man's E-Z chair at home.  Sometimes, I like to pretend to be Archie Bunker and wear the same white shirt and brown pants over and over.  And I like my CHAIR.  And soon, as I mentioned before in one of our "sessions", I will be all a pied.  I don't know what that means but I think it has to do with feet.,  I will be walking around town Blogarooski, because my license is suspended for....ONE YEAR.

It was supposed to only be six months, Bloggy.   Six months I could deal with.  But then Penndot (PA's version of the dmv) sent me a nastygram and it says one year.  Um, hello.  That is twice as long.  But I think the dmv rules everything.  Like they could send the President a note that was like pay this ticket or we're booting your car and before you know it Air Force One can't go nowhere.  I'm pretty sure Old Trumpy has some outstanding tickets.  But mostly for lewd contact in public, probs.  Ha, join the club.

I mean, I know it is going to be hard to walk PAST my perfectly good car in the driveway through the muck and sleet and walk places but if you get caught driving under a suspended license, Blogster it is prizz for reals not just


See, that's me.  It really is kind of what I look like.  Hmmm maybe I call Penndot and say doubleyou tee eff matey?  Actually if I call them I probably shouldn't be fake Australian.  I just feel like it won't go over well.

You can apply for a "hardship license" to go back and forth to work but Bloggy, I have no current job.  Oh, the old chicken and the egg scenario.  Pretty sure that egg came first but that is a whole OTHER blog that could get....uncomfortable unless you are cool with the birds and the bees. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Library

Image
So exactly why do they not want my services?   Not sure.  I mean, I can definitely do more than a monkey.  A little more.  Maybe they have too many monkeys?  I hear they are making a come back.  So once again I am here at the library, smelling all of the smells of the public. I need a passport for id. So I went to the place where they give out passports (called the post office) and turns out I need my birth certificate. Yeah, that guy.  So I emailed Grandma Patsy and hopefully she is on the case. I was recently introduced to a meatball sub and oh my blog.  I am trying to LOSE weight and the meatball sub is my enemy.  SO now its me against the meatball sub.   He has so much POWER, although I can order him to me at a moment's notice.   Still.  Meatball sub.
Read more

Bloggy

Image
Here we go, Bloggy.  It's just you and me, blogging around town.   And never jogging around town. Eiw.  All the ogging.  I WAS walking really fast and all the fat parts of my body statrted to jiggle and I thought that's good because it means that  they are thinking about MOVING.  AWAY.  FROM ME. Go away fat parts.  You're money's no good here. Anyway, guess where I am?  That's right.  The LIBRARY.  This place and me are 2getha 4 eva.  But like I filled out a form to volunteer here and they have not called me back.  And  I gave them my RESUME, Blog.    Poor, Blog.  You don't have a resume yet, do you?  You have to grow, Bloggy.  You're just a little blog right now.  You have like seven posts or something.  Baby Bloggy. Okay enough soothing of the blog.The people in this library for real do not care about the utterances of their bodies.  I have a phlegm guy to my lef...
Read more

Swim with the fishies

It turns out I did not. So I’m still alive. And I also didn't swim last night with E. Though she did have her lesson. So the lesson. Okay I’m not trying to be rude but I think my swimming lessons consisted of Den throwing me in the pool and or ocean, smoking a cig, nodding and walking away. I vaguely remember a kickboard and some flutter kicking. I think I learned the strokes at Sandpipers in NYC in the winter, actually. There, I also learned how to make a flotation device out of a flannel shirt. For real. Sandpipers was dope. We used to go to the pool across from dangerous Asser Levy for lessons. It was this Olympic sized college pool in Hunter College and all the kids in the neighborhood signed up and were taught by this couple, I think last name Collins.  So mama swam and swam.  Mama could swim.  So basically I was good for being a lightening rod champ 25 yard dash kind of thing and then I dropped dead.  Like no stamina.  But for the one lap?   W...
Read more