So what should I write about today? You surely don't want to hear about my action packed Thursday. Most of it involved sitting in this chair, behind this monitor. Oh, I almost forgot, I did some treadmill time; So, I also walked in place just feet from where I sit It sounds like that nightmare I have where I run and run and just can't get away from the monster threatening to eat my soul, except I was naked. Woo Hoo!
Oh, I cleared some junk out from my toe nails. Wanna hear about that?
Sigh….fine. One second, let me roll out the wheel of topics.
Hang on.
Ok, here goes.
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Oh crap, I forgot, I had the servants WD40 the Wheel of Topics.
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Ok, it should stop soon.
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Any time I promise.
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Alright, They never put this much effort into buffing the sidewalk, I'm not sure what's going on here.
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You know what? I saw the word "Blame" roll by. Let's go with that. I'm blaming the hired help for this constant clacking in my ear. What else? What's relevant to the blog? Let's see, who haven't I blamed lately? I could pull out the 20 sided blame die, but I've heard RPG games are no longer cool unless you're on a computer. I blame technology. I think the dice are still in my mom's basement. I'm kidding, my mom doesn't have a basement, and the dice are right in this drawer to my left. You never know when you'll have a saving throw emergency.
So who do I want to blame today? I've already spent enough blame space ranting on MyUnwife, You can only beat a dead horse piñata so long before it stops giving up candy and Dad drags you and your bat of justice from the unsettling corpse. I could blame me…
Yeah right. Hold on I'm still giggling over that one. Blame me. I'm more likely to blame my dog. And he's the only one here in my corner. We have a truce. I feed him, He prances around, then jumps up on me and lets me smell his breath. No there will be no blaming my compatriot.
What about my parents? That's not bad. I just saw some people on Dr. Phil blaming their parents. That means it's topical too. Blame just isn't good unless you can dress it up in the latest psycho-babble fashion catch phrase.
Blame: Paving the way to a guilt free tomorrow.
I have statistics in my favor. I am the child of divorced parents. Statistics say that children of a divorce are likely to divorce too. What are the statistics? I've seen two that seem pertinent. Something like 4 out of 5 divorce lawyers buy business card baby books for maternity ward mothers. Sort of a give basket for repeat business. They're called cradle chasers.
"This is your first puppy."
"This is my divorce lawyer holding your puppy. Always remember, there's a pouch inside the back cover with several business cards for when you need him. Yes, his number is number 5 on speed dial."
You know lawyers aren’t going to waste money on a bad promotional gift. They're more likely to waste your divorce earnings on bad rum in Aruba.
Need other statistics? I think I saw a pie graph. The tasty side was children of divorce who've divorced. The burnt sliver with a fork through it belonged to the kids who married their high school sweetheart and lived happily ever after.
I wanted to be one of those kids. I wanted to grow up and be married forever with my 2.5 kids. I'd have even named the half kid Quasi. Me, Quasi, and the rest of the Blogwriter clan, we'd thumb our noses at the loser statistic throngs from the back of our chauffer driven mini van. Now, I'm a loser statistic waif and I need to go club me some happily ever afterer's smiling face.
My parents ruined my chances. It's in my DNA I was born with a marriage defect. I’m a circus freak.
Step right up boys and girls, see the saddest thing you'll ever see, the divorced man. See the slouch in is back? That's right. He's carrying the weight of the world. Yeah, it's pretty grim. Don't put your ring finger in the cage, he'll gnaw it off. He's already caused one divorce, yours could be next!
Yeah, I'll be the next boogeyman. The man mothers warn their little I-doers-to-be about.
"Beware! You'll know he's in the room. There's a noise that precedes him. You hear it, you run my baby. Run! The noise? It's sounds like—"
Clack Clack Clack Clack Clack Clack Cla—-
Hey! The wheel stopped! According to that, today we're talking about Forgiveness. Huh. How the heck did that get there? Who put that on my wheel? Somebody else is always ruining my fun.
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