My 100th Post!

I didn't think it would get here so soon! What the hell? I blame daylight savings time and the change in time zones. I still don't get how and why those things work, despite my husband explaining to me a thousand times. What the fuck ever. As long as I know when the mall opens and closes, that's really all that matters to a Certifiable Jewish Princess.

To further prove that I have no life, I have been pondering this post for at least a week. Yes, you read that right. A week. I mean, this is a HUGE milestone for a relatively new blogger. I've only been here since Christmas. I consider myself a Christmas gift to the world wide web. *bats lashes*

Wanna know why I'm so fat?

'Cause I'm FULL of MYSELF. Heh.

Back to the 100th post. So, how to spend this valuable moment. Hm. Could do that "100 Things About Me" thingie. This would be good, if I weren't such an open book. I mean, I told you the story of me gluing my vibrator to my thigh. If that isn't part of 100 things that you know about me (but really don't need to) then I don't know what is. That's out of the question. I thought about telling a serious story, but oy, after that five part drama from last week, I am a bit tapped out in the emotional distress department. Plus, I purposefully laid off my Prozac for a week prior to writing that story, so I could get all the bitter hatespew out of my system. Now, I am back on my meds, in a pleasant frame of mind and want to keep it that way. Could you imagine if that old bitch would have knocked me down the week I was OFF the meds? Oy. She would be grannygoo stew right about now. I would have limped my fat ass after her, hobbling down after the Lincoln and shoved her cane up her ass...sans lubrication. Hm. Tasty.

I'm not going that route either. Nope. The 100th post is too special for that.

I was going to dedicate a huge ass post to the hotband. You know "thanks for loving me," "thanks for allowing me the freedom to share my stupidity with a million people daily", "thanks for being cool with me exploiting our sexlife" and then of course, the mandatory "thank you for being you". He KNOWS all this horseshit. I tell him all of this constantly and while love is a many splendored thing and all, I know couples like the hubby and I. They coo at each other. They make squishy faces and call each other things like "shmoopy" and "lambchop". They make kissy noises at one another. They make me want to vomit. I can only imagine a post to my husband like this one from Valentines Day would make you want to puke on your keyboard. I am not wealthy enough to start replacing keyboards from coast to coast, so I will pass on the lovefest post.

Then, I considered a dedication to all of you guys who read me, even when I am posting the most frivilous shit. I mean, you come here with the expectation of laughter and I am droning on and on about some crazy assed bastard trying to murder me, or I am subjecting you to one of my disgusting nursing stories, complete with pictures of naked scabies people. I mean, seriously, are these things that you really NEED to know? Is ANY part of my life something you need to know? No. Sure isn't. But, I know I am laughable. Please note, this is much different than being funny. Being funny means you are intentionally amusing. (Whaddya mean, I'm funny. Funny how? What am I, a fuckin' clown?? Am I here to amuse you?) No. I'm not funny. What I am is a victim of circumstance who likes to creatively convey her misfortunes in hope of eliciting a euphoric response that is usually related to happiness and/or some semblance of amusement.

In essence, I am a fuckin' joke and love to laugh at my own expense.

For my 100th post, I am going to say thank you to all of you, those on the blogroll, those who visit frequently, those who visit when life allows them to remember me and those who stumble in here. Without all of you, I wouldn't have a blog.

Well, no. That's not true. I would have a blog. You all have really nothing to do with that at all. Frankly, I have no idea how any of you got here. Or why, for that matter. But, since you are here and a part of my bandwidth, I want to say thank you for 100 posts of wonderful fun, lots of laughter, a few tears and a few statements I will live to regret once I become famous.

Here's to 100 more posts to make you laugh, make you cry, make you horny, make the milk shoot out of your nose or, on occasion, provoke an expected eruption of gas.

If I ever make one of you fart from one of my posts, PLEASE let me know.

It would be my crowning glory. No greater achievment, ever.