#100

This is post #100. Can you believe it? I can't. I certainly didn't think it would go this far. I just wanted to do something while bored stiff at work and now it's post #100. Either I have way too much time on my hands or...I have way too much time on my hands.

In celebration of the occasion, I am posting a 'word cloud' I have been been saving for this occasion.

It's like a Rorschach of my brain. And it ain't pretty.

This was sent to me by Cindy, who was my partner in crime in high school. We just vibed off of each other like good friends do. You know you have a good friend, when you can stand together in front a mirror and entertain ourselves for hours with our New Kids On The Block concert faces.

Flashback 15 years ago...

Me: That's good, that's good, but I think if you're really going to go for it, then your Donnie face needs something, like, a touch more bad-ass, you know?

Cindy: Like this? (Crosses arms, tilts chin, and gives come-hither eyes)

Me: Perrrr-fect! Who's hangin' tough now?

***

We never felt like idiots, even though we probably were. That's a good friend right there. So anyway, holla to Cindy in Jerusalem! Or is it Tel Aviv? Wait, now I'm confused. I'm pretty sure it's Jerusalem. But holla to the peeps in Tel Aviv too.

Looking at that word cloud, I'm inspired. I want to start running around going, "People picker piss. People picker piss. Say it five times really fast!" while doing a little shaboogie. Either I'll get arrested or inadvertently start a conga line of interested bystanders.

"Officer, please...we were only following the crazy People Picker Piss woman!"

Interestingly enough, at the same time my stuff is finally up on the site I'd been writing for, which I'm happy about. I added a link to my sidebar, because Blogger won't let me publish it properly in the post. And yes my name is in print, so don't get any funny ideas, eh? Because I've got a bodyguard.

Not Kevin, but Whitney. So you should be very afraid.

I shouldn't complain, but I'm not happy about how they chopped up my writing through the editing process and lost some of mah flow. I'm an artiste, dammit! Don't you go editing me, fool! Because if you do, I'll write something about you! Oooohhhh.

But nevertheless, it's a good day and I'm all about celebrating. Which is why there's a 99% chance I will come into work tomorrow smelling like a bar, laying all those pregnancy rumors to rest once and for all!

"I'm down!"