Throw a mommy a bone

okokokok so....I have to say this is quite an interesting idea. I have always wished that I could have a place to keep track of all the moments with ya'll that I can't remember- basically 75% of the past 8 years! Hopefully we will have this forever and we can always look back fondly on the memories of our younger days when everything was so carefree and uncomplicated. YEAH RIGHT. At least we will be able to show our kids kids how proud of us they should be for our accomplishments.

I don't know if I am the only mommy who works in a prison where they block everything that resembles fun, but it may prove slightly problematic for me to be as frequent a blogger as I would like to be. At least there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I like semen (that shit is hilarious) will both be unemployed and living with our parents. For some reason this makes me want to break out into Adam Sandler's rendition of Madonna's "Holiday". I think you all know what I'm talking about. At least the fat guy at table 10 does. So somebody go ahead and cut the cake before I he has a heart attack and let's all talk about how much love stinks. No, really it does. But that is another blog for another day. For now, let's see what to say...what to say. For all you local mommies and daddies, not much is new. We still can't remember what we did last time we saw each other. Oh, and whoever keeps making the comments of my incessant farting (ah-michael-em) have you forgotten about all the other just as wonderful and just as character defining traits of my uniquely beautiful personality? My wit, charm, and beauty perhaps? Not to mention my poops and burps? Just as long as you recognize....
Jeremy, I haven't talked to you in basically forever. How the hell are you? I keep thinking that you are taking the first step and reaching out to me via myspace comments. Alas, each time I am let down by some creepy message from you telling me that one of your friends thinks I'm hot. I think you all know what I'm talking about...some unfortunate chain mail that keeps spamming the inboxes of innocent myspacers nation wide. Anyway, it's really good to have this little tid bit of Jeremyism to hold onto. Oh, I forgot to mention you STILL send all of your emails to the wrong email address for me! We'll be sitting around and someone will say so did you get Jeremy's latest email or see his latest pictures, and I have no idea what they are talking about. Get it right bitch!
Semen, this mommy misses you. BAD. I am ashamed at my absence at the ugly sweater party, woodstock, and wherever else you turned up that I didn't even realize at the time. This is only slightly diminished by my miserable attempts to even inquire about what is happening in your life, let alone reach out and actually touch a daddy. Glad to get the update, and please accept this as a promise to do better in the future. When do you think your going to make it down again? Perhaps Char and Dave bon voyage shin dig? Ooh la la. You bring the B vitamins, I'll bring the booze.
I am ashamed I have to sign off because my 17 year old future husband is about to sing on American Idol. I promise to come back soon with something clever and thoughtful and better than my farts. Perhaps top ten mommy and daddy moments? Oh wait, never mind...I can't remember. Peace out.