Lateshoes

This week has been ever so long and I have been shamefully neglectful of you. Me so sorry. First, let me say that I’ve been dreadfully boring and pissy for most of the week and therefore would not have been very good company anyway, right? I mean, am I right? I think I’m right about this.
So much has happened since we’ve been apart. Walter and Stanley have been tapped to star in the next Mission Impossible picture, so long as they stop making all of those anti-Scientology comments to all their doggie friends, Lars is really loving his new job at the White House, though he has confirmed it truly is a lot of “hard work,” and me, I’m just enjoying the nice spring breeze, drinking a margarita and typing to you on my powerbook. Life is beautiful.
Oh right…I forgot the best part, in an effort to silence me from criticizing Tom Cruise’s insistence in forcing Katie Holmes to change her name to “KATE,” he’s offered to pay off the remaining balance on our mortgage and have the whole house and yard renovated….and, oh yes! our newish neighbors, how should I put this?…disposed of. So, rest assured Tom, I won’t even wince the next time you harp out the word, “Kate,” repeatedly…nor will I roll my eyes at the thought of your pressuring your baby-mama to change her first name to make it sound more grown-up, so you can stop feeling like a cradle robbing, hobbit. And you can bet on the day that you have pretty little Kate’s legs surgically altered to remove that 4 and a half inches she uses to tower over your puny ass…. my lips will be sealed.

I am so fucking cranky right now, I hesitate to even try to blargh. What’s got me down, you ask? Oh, you mean besides the weight of crushing emotional, financial, and jobi-cal responsibilities? Well, not much except there really isn’t any good tv on tonight and really, right now, alls I want is Scotch and Diet Coke, a nice blanket and some good tv to watch. I want to zone out. I’m pretty sure I’m suffering from some sort of vacation withdrawal. I miss my mommie. I miss my sister and brother and dad. I really, really do. I know that I always get like this, all Dorothy Parker-ish and negative whenever ev-absolutely-ery thing is going my way. I know it and yet…

“The two most beautiful words in the English language are ‘cheque enclosed.’” -Dorothy Parker

Walt is the one in the panties. Bonnie is the rapist and Lola is the little blonde.
Get this video and more at MySpace.com

I think the montage with the Britney Spears soundtrack is flippin’ hawt!
Logan and Veronica 4 eva!

I’ve been scolded for not announcing the “arrival” of Suri Cruise yet…and I must say I’m even slightly disappointed with myself. Let’s just say, I had the back-from-vacation “blahs” yesterday and leave it at that.
Suri (what an odd name for a basketball), after gestating in her mother’s womb for somewhere around 13 months was born on the same day, in the same hospital as her father’s arch nemesis, Brooke Shield’s actual baby. What a coinky-dink.
Now, whatever will become of poor Katie? We know that she won’t be marrying Tom Cruise because, well, he’s gay for one and for two he’s Captain Batshit. It’s hard to believe he ever had any real romantic intentions toward her, other than to incubate his frozen L. Ron spawn, which is well, really the most romantic gesture there is….next to eating Suri’s placenta, of course. So what will he do with her? Will she get hit by a car? Die in a plane crash? I mean, there’s just no way OTIII-TC is going to let her have anything to do with raising this kid. She might suppress it or something. We already know that before it was born, he was trying to arrange full legal custody of the “child.” How much fucking creepier can this guy get?
So, yeah… Katie dropped the ball and the thousand year war may have just begun.
In honor of this occasion I’ve decided to share some of the lyrics to a new Chubby Bunny song.
Kate Cruise Control
Everything means nothing to me/ flipping channels on the t.v./ Read a magazine at the mall/
Katie Holmes is having a basket ball

Space flight in an aeroplane/ there’s a Battlefield going on in your brain/ When your life seems totally lame/ it’s them not you that’s gone insane

Suppressive people all around/ They cut your sex scene completely out/ Pop culture has never been so devout/ Fall down/ You’re falling down

Rosemary Red Rosemary blue/ Katie! Katie what’s come over you?/ “He’s the most amazing man”/ He’s your Captain batshit with a masterplan

That’s all’s I’ve got so far. I’ll let you hear it when we’re done.

I’m back at work this morning and I can barely muster the will to write this blog. I just keep staring at the work on my desk thinking, wow, is this really what I have to do 40 hours a week?
And, it is.
I honestly can’t believe I even rolled in here today. I just keep telling myself that being here today, means I can call in sick on Monday. Word.
It’s too soon to talk about my flights home…I will say this, they sucked. So much that when I landed in Denver I actually contemplated renting a car to drive the rest of the way home. Yeah, that bad.
It’s awesome to be home with Lars and the pups…but, I really miss my family. I had to make my mom say goodbye really fast (like ripping off a bandaid) so I wouldn’t cry like a pussy bitch at the airport. I did anyway, but she didn’t have to see it.
Here’s hoping that she wins the 82 million dollar Florida lottery tonight so she can buy me and Lars that house on her street.

“Hey honey, whatcha doin?”

“I’m just driving around through the slushy rain. It’s 36 fucking degrees. What are you doin?”

“Sitting on the beach, drinking beer out of a sippy cup.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope. I’m taking pictures to prove it.”