Sometimes you close your eyes and see the place where you used to live – When you were young.
Remember back when we were kids? Life was a lot simpler then. I wouldn’t mind a couple treks back in time, possibly to an afternoon of playing pickle on the elementary school playground. Or throwing a baseball threw the back window of your dad’s Volvo practicing to be a Major League Baseball professional pitcher. (Congrats on your Hall of Fame bid Barry Larkin! You are the reason my California born and bred brother is a Cincinnati fan. I’m going to go ahead and blame you for that wild pitch through the Volvo, too.)
Instead, we celebrate the birthday of our editor-in-chief this week – so I decree we’re all forever young. You’re welcome. (And Ryan Gosling, if you’re reading – our beloved editor could really use a smackaroo. Just sayin’…) Also, we’ve got a man on board! Don’t miss our newest writer Adam’s musings on the trials and tribulations of dating. Or, you know, let us know if you’ve got a girl for our guy. Smackaroos welcome. He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman (sorry, couldn’t resist).
Watch it now – here they come!
You’ve seen my bio. Employ a few elementary mathematical skills and you can figure out that I had preemies (million dollar miracle muppets at 27 weeks). So that’s kind of a touchy issue for me. Hell – while we’re on the topic, let’s throw a fully gestated winecone at prematurity (and a bunch of tiny ones just for good measure).
But on a more recent note, you may have heard that the DIVAine Beyonce had her baby. I get it. You don’t want anyone sneaking in and stealing your precious Baby Blues away. (Ha ha – get it? She named her kid Blue – just like the postpartum hormones bring.) But was it really entirely necessary to block parents from the NICU? That’s a place where tiny moments are matters of life and death. I throw a winecone the size of their ego- that outta take out the entire security detail. Henceforth, my allegiances lie only with Beyonce the Giant Metal Chicken. Knock. Knock. Motherfucker.
Winecone! I’m so ranty right now. My daughter’s teacher couldn’t give a rip about how to maximize my girl’s situation. She’s hard of hearing.
Editor’s note: Perhaps a wineconed right hook to her left ear will knock some sense into her. Or at the very least she can develop some sympathy based on the ringing in her ears.
Today is Wednesday. Throw some winecones at bronchitis. 🙂
Editor’s note: Wow. Just when you think you’re feeling better. For you, we hurl a winecone right down that airway to your lungs – freeing up space so you can breathe. Also, winecones and codeine seem to be popular in these parts.
Remember when you were a kid, and it was perfectly acceptable to wear a neon tie-dye shirt with your Superman cape and red shoes? Well here’s a big smackaroo to the Bloggess for kickstarting the #TravelingRedDress social movement. We are worth it.
And of course, Happy Birthday Elle! Kisses!
‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!
*Leave your Winecones in the comments or email us at firstname.lastname@example.org and we’ll add yours next week!