or distracting you from my lameness with funny internet shit
Okay, so it seems I've abandoned this bloggity-blog-blah of late. I have been less than inspired to compose a cavalcade of critically disregarded crap for some time. Oh things have happened. Vacations have been taken. Humiliating missteps have occurred. Concerts have been attended, even one uncharted kick-ass, love-fest of a Francis Dunnery house concert/50th birthday bash that left me with a restored faith in humankind and at peace and a little hoarse.
Nothing. Nada. Zip.
And Dude, has my writing ability suffered. I can barely piece together a thought or finish a sentence without my ADD taking over with a ---
I blame the Mayans.
Oh, and don't get me started on that bullshit. Apocalypse, my ass! (comma placement being crucial right there. to be clear, i am not, nor will i ever be the kind of chick who implores anyone to apocalypse her ass. whatever that is. and no thank you, i don't want to know. ever. step away from the computer, pervy.) Now I have to pay my fucking credit card that just arrived in a box so heavy TWO postmen had to lift it from the truck.
Conclusion: Mayans were as accurate as the yahoos at (In)Accu-weather. They were assholes.
Aren't you glad I decided to come out of my top-secret, secluded bunker and write today, you lucky bastards? Yeah, you are. I feel the loathe.
I haven't been in the best of Christmas spirits. To be honest, I've been kinda meh about everything related to next Tuesday's chaos, which is total bullshit considering we just got back from the Big Apple which was festive as shit and filled with throngs of roaming, drunken Santas,
|there were even several gents sporting the short pants|
but there it is. Like Henri, I've been filled with ennui.
Then I read this... at work... during the live newscast and had to physically stifle my laughter by clapping my hands across my big, fat gob.
The 25 funniest autocorrects from damnyouautocorrect posted on Buzzfeed found here. Hysterical!! I was literally crying. Autocorrect is the poor man's electronic Prozac. Seriously. It will elevate you out of any funk. I need to make this site my home page.
Then of course it's also inappropriate Elf on the Shelf photo season. That creepy elf freaks me the hell out (add another thing to my list of phobias), but HOLY CRAP these pictures are hilarious.
|Perhaps the most clever and my favorite|
Justin Timberlake would be proud
And then there's this gem.
|monkey in shearling for the win!|
A stylishly cloaked monkey in a diaper busting out of his car cage and running amok in the Toronto IKEA. Why not. Makes perfect sense.
I love you, Interwebs.
That's it for me. Back to the bunker I go. Ciao!