The mailers have begun arriving. The commercials are blathering on. The political circus has begun continues. Next verse? Same as the first!
There is a very good chance the majority of politicians were dropped on their heads as small children. Did you see CubicleView’s post yesterday? It looks like they make have taken that Talking Head’s song literally.
Our governmental powers that be forgot to save money for a rainy day – and boy is it storming now. Whoops.
So here is my question. Who are these people who receive a robocall during dinner and think, “Wow! If that candidate hadn’t set up a computer to randomly call me and play a recording, I might not have realized how in touch with the community he is. I’m totally voting for THAT guy!”
Did you see my post on Monday? A tremendous amount of winecones at mothers who drop their children on their heads. And also, those mothers likely need more wine.
So one day I come home from a trip. Wife’s clothes are scattered EVERYWHERE in the closet. What the hell? I notice that shelving rack is gone – with three of the four brackets there, bent all the way to hell and back. Wife sees me looking at the shrapnel that is the closet rack and says, “Oh, I broke the closet.” So there is a winecone for you. If your husband fixes your closet, TWICE, clean out the closet so you don’t break it again!
Editor’s note: It’s not unheard of to break closets. That’s all I’m saying… For example, one should not try to scale an IKEA closet in search of a hat if one weighs more than, say, 20 pounds. Particleboard winecones will come crashing down upon you. Hypothetically speaking, of course. And a large quantity of wine to husband’s who repeatedly fix the closet.
A Winecone to the lady who left the aquarium, got in the front passenger seat of her minivan, and had her BABY STILL IN The BABY BJORN! What the fuck lady?!
Editor’s note: Ok, seriously? I’m going with the obvious here. May the waterlogged winecone knock some sense into her. And also, that’s totally illegal. I guarantee you that chick has dropped her kid before.
To the blowhard in my office who has never heard someone else’s idea over his own blathering idiocy. I’m so glad you’re so terribly confident in your knowledge of everything. But just in case you missed it, publicly humiliating others to try making yourself look better? You’re an ass.
Editor’s note: I have no doubt a winecone strike will result in a sudden rush of hot air. Which is likely flammable. Thus bringing us full circle back to burning down the house. Add a little more wine and isn’t that a great coning – watching a blowhard deflate in a self-serving ball of flame.
All joking aside, I’ve got to give some major props to every parent who has dropped, tossed or witnessed a daredevil child leap from great heights. Thanks for making me feel not quite so unfit.
So to the parents out there (Happy Mother’s Day btw) who aren’t perfect: a kiss.
And to the friends and family who rebuild our closets when we break them and stand by us when we have a bad day at work: a kiss.
‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!