It’s that time…time for a contest because I am having a totally craptastic couple of days here between work, being sick and having a house full of company (which in and of itself is not a bad thing at all other than the fact that I cannot speak in complete sentences without sneezing thus sneeing myself).
Also? I am not original enough to come up with this idea on my own so I have copied Anna over at abdpbt.com who hosts a fabulous Sucky Sweepstakes twice a month that you need to go check out because she is way hipper than me and gives away cool prizes.
I’ve decided that this may be a good thing for all of us (because, you know, I like to make decisions on your behalf as well) so once a month I’m going to host the Oy Vey! comment festival where you can just vent your heart out about what humorous thing happened that just totally blew your week all to hell.
Why should you participate you ask? Well, one, because you like me and you feel sorry for me, but more importantly I will involve the entire crew here in Big D this weekend have have my MIL and my SIL choose the winner. (Mainly because I don’t want to be responsible so I’m pawning it off on them) The winning comment will appear on my blog with linkage Sunday so you will get the benefit of reaching my THOUSANDS (wait, hundreds…ok dozens, whatever) of readers PLUS I will send you a $25 gift card just for being the most pathetic. Just think, in this economy, that will buy you one movie ticket and the medium soft drink of your choice! YES!!!!
Your turn….tell me your horror story!
Picture credit: Miss G, age approx 18 months…looking a lot like I do today. What? You don’t wear bows and sparkly glasses? Pfft.
{ 29 comments }
I don’t have anything too awesome to comment on this week, but I can’t wait to see the entries! I’ll be checking back!
My week hasn’t been too terrible…yet. Friday isn’t here yet. Monday my cat through up on my foot. Does that count? She actually walked over, lurching and hacking and then just, *splat* there it was. All I kept thinking was that I was glad she seemed fine afterward, and I was REALLY glad I didn’t have my Steve Madden heels on yet. So, yeah, I really can’t complain.
Jen: Cat vomit counts for sure. In fact, extra points may apply for the removal of animal body fluids from your feet…but I’m not sure yet.
Heather: Girl, your house FLOODED Sunday. Not funny but still…you are the most optomistic person out there bc I would for sure bitch about that.
Everyone else? This is why I proudly stalk these ladies on a daily basis…and you should too.
My wife made this phenomenal lemon pie this week and I just ate the last piece. Really, it was probably closer to two pieces but I felt a moral obligation to reduce my carbon footprint and not dirty extra dishes that would just have to be washed. I know, I’m a good person. Where was I? Oh ya, so now the pie is gone. GONE!!! What am I going to do? What am I going to eat? I live in Canada. It’s going to start getting cold here soon. Really cold! (Ok, I live in the warmest part of Canada, but I’m on a roll) I need to fatten up! I need blubber! Aaaand the roll is gone. Except for the one that pie will make (add too).
Sorry about your cold and sneeing.
(I’m so glad I was born with a penis.)
No horror story,… right now anyway.
I’ve created my version of a blog award.
Come by and see!
Capt Dumbass, I’m sure (or at least hope) your wife is also glad you were born with a penis. Always a pleasure to hear from you.
You seem to have the misfortune of the most optimistic readers around. Life is well here too. Again, my condolences on the sneeing.
My husband and I went to a concert Tuesday night, (which is not the horror story – it was awesome!)
What is not awesome is that when we finally pull in the driveway at 1AM, our 5yr old’s bedroom light is on. My hope that he and the sitter were asleep with the light on was short-lived. Not asleep. A night that late only means one thing for us. And right on cue Wednesday night, the night terrors begin.
Without fail the one thing that will trigger those in my son is lack of sleep. They just suuuuuuuck so much. As does trying to sleep on a twin bed with my son!
Last night was much better though, so at least it was short-lived! Thanks for letting me whine!
Captain o’ my Captain: How is eating lemon pie a bad thing? I’ve seen the tasty treats Supreme Leader whips up for you. Hell, I wish I was married to her. Sorry, your lemon pie thingy isn’t beating my cat sick on my bare feet. The only way you’ll beat me is if you drive down to the states and get sick on my feet. In that case, I’m not sure there will be any winners. Just losers.
My week was a standard assortment of sleep deprivation, assplosions, and crimes against my diet. Oh, and hubby plopped $1700 back onto the Visa we had JUST PAID OFF. Because, y’know, it’s “free money”, not “credit at an appalling interest rate”.
But I feel compelled to post on behalf of my friends teenage daughter, who got busted for skipping class (quite a lot), and whose punishment is that today, her mother is going to school with her. And following her to class. And introducing herself to her daughters teachers. And then waiting until the end of class, and then escorting her daughter to the NEXT class. While singing show tunes.
So, yeah. Sucks to be HER.
It had been exactly one month since I dropped my youngest child at college, leaving me to my empty nest. Not all together horrible except for the very unfortunate fact that I have gained exactly 2.5 pounds each of those weeks. I don’t think my exercise and eating habits have changed that much but it is clear that something has to give. This week, it was my new grey dress pants that decided to give.
I joined a traditional network group to expose my blog and also to make me get out of my pj’s before noon at least once a week. We were required to attend a training session today, which I dutifully arrived 30 seconds before the speaker began. Rushing to sit down in my seat, I heard a “swoosht” sound and realized my pants had split in the center back seam. I wanted to put my fingers back there and figure out just how big the split was, but was afraid the people behind me would think I was picking at my bottom. (Gross!)
The speaker begins with our first exercise and is asking different people to stand up and read certain passages in the manual. I cannot focus. (Please do not call on me and if she does, can I refuse?). Next we stand and introduce ourselves, so I quickly place my notebook over my bottom with my hands to cleverly hide my wide open (wrong day to wear my cute green thong undies) rear. I announce that I am a BLOGGER and everyone turns around and collectively says, “what?”.
Finally, class is over. I plan my quick getaway hoping never to see any of these people again, but I cannot even get up. My desk is surrounded by the curious; a blog can be a job? (yes, if you’re good like Heather Armstrong); will you blog for my website? (yes, what amount should I charge?). I am forced to sit and stay and answer every question until the room has filed out and only the teacher remained.
“Couldn’t get up because of the split in your pants?”, she said. I must have looked stunned and she follwed with, “I heard it when you sat down”.
Beth….OMG. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you. Well, not really, I’m laughing at you too.
Thanks for stopping by, great story! I am running out the door but I’ll swing by your blog tomorrow!
Hey!
Let’s commiserate together!
Virtual Girls Night Out at my place. (Boys included!)
Split pants takes the cake. Or Lemon pie. Whatever.
My week was peppered with leaving the house with unknown stains on my top, showering with my braon , realizing I am not my mom’s favorite and baby-who-no-longer-wants-to sleep-through-the-night wants to play with me at 3am, then kick me in the boobs for an hour.
yay!
I still don’t have pie…
998413 beers on the wall.
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