You know what, I posted a cartoon over on Babble the other day, which 47 people saw. It was just a test to see how many people would go over there if I didn’t link to it from here. Forty-seven, it turns out. Forty-seven hits and $3.95 will buy me a severance cup of coffee. Hey. How about posting something substantial on Fussy again, Mrs. Kennedy, how about that? Let me just say that, uh, . . . what? Did you say something? Because if whatever you’re asking doesn’t have to do with winning more KinzCash to feed my son’s virtual beagle, Fireball, I cannot help you.
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Let's Panic About Babies! is a book I wrote with the delightful Alice Bradley. You will like it if you are currently pregnant, if you have children, or if you have absolutely no intention of having children. Not just because it's funny, but because you can burn it to stay warm.
Clicking on the cover will take you to the publisher's web site, clicking here will take you to Amazon.com, or, you can go to Let's Panic! the web site, preview some of the material in the book, and read a whole lot of bonus stuff we post for free when we feel like it, which isn't often anymore. It's a full-time job managing the enormous wealth that comes from writing a fake parenting book.
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I saw it. But I subscribed to Calfornia Breedin in Google Reader. For I am a geek.
Hooray! Now I just have the other forty-six to account for.
First thing in the morning – breakfast, mouth full of cereal, hmmm, new post at Fussy…
Crap, I should know better by now, shouldn’t I? Go fetch the roll of paper towels, again – I’m never going to get the monitor clean.
Only two people came to my seventh birthday party. I’m not sure I ever recovered from the emotional shock of realizing I was so unpopular.
Oh, Thomas. Heartbreaking.
I didn’t even have a seventh birthday party– my parents made me skip seven and go straight to nine so I could get a job at the sawmill.
Can I have a back rub?
No, but I’ll push your wheelchair through the mall.
I saw the cartoon a couple of times and it made me chuckle each time. So I might be numbers 4 and 35.
I am so anal that I run down my favorites each and everyday. And when the hubby isnt home, a few times a day.
I dont care where the new post is, just as long as there is one.
Ah shoot, am I doing this wrong? I will have to bookmark Babble so I can go there direct and get you the virgin page count or whatever stat is required. Glad Anna’s came through. Unit 3 is however wondering why he never got the stripper in his birthday cake.
Give in to Costco. They make really good cakes, I’m not kidding. And they’ll even paint a swear word on it if you want them to.
Probably the most depressing scene I’ve ever witnessed was when my oldest kid was the only one to show up to a classmate’s 6th b-day party. The classmate’s mom was newly divorced, had just moved in to a tiny apartment, and had decked it out in streamers, etc. We were 20 minutes late and could tell she had been crying. She was SO happy to see us. We almost didn’t show up. Glad we did.
One of my friends showed up a week early for my 7th b-day party. His mom got the wrong date. This was the 70s, so he was in his Sunday best, standing on our door with a big present. Ha. My mom just invited him in and we had ice cream and did something that didn’t involve video games because those weren’t invented yet.
I never, ever comment, but wanted to let you know that I saw the cartoon over on your babble site. I loved it so much that I sent one to a friend. Basically what I am saying is… 45 more to go.
We live in North Carolina and my mom is in New York. My mother has been known to use my 5 year old daughter’s Webkinz password to enter the site and totally screw with her granddaughter’s Webkinz.
Once in a while my daughter will sign onto the site and yell “Why is Herbert wearing a dress and a cowboy hat and sitting in the corner?! I put him to bed with only a t-shirt just yesterday!!”
Little does she know her grandmother is messing with her from hundreds of miles away.
There’s way too much Costco love in the comments. It’s kind of creepy. I’m in agreement with you on this, Mrs. K.
Of course, I am almost out of toilet paper …