Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Homicidal Bunnies and the Need to Proofread

I read many many MANY other blogs.  Most are totally inappropriate, having to do with homicidal ninja squirrels, being horrifically mean to obnoxious people in the neighborhood, or feature snarky comics that are unfit for Princess viewing.  (I know, because she was horrified/intrigued by Oatmeal's line of Valentine's Day Cards.  I got her to leave right before the one about rubbing your loved one's possessions against your testicles.  Monkey Boy was not so lucky-he quotes it A LOT.)

Some of the blogs I follow are about people that suffer with various invisible illnesses.  One is about a woman with Sjorgren's, and I like her writing, her musings, and her sweet nature. She is suffering with a serious, debilitating illness that keeps her cooped up at home most of the time. Thusly, her opportunities for things to do are limited, and her posts can be funny, but in a sweet, silly way.  Unlike mine.

Damn, now I feel REALLY bad.

Lemme back up.  Today, I went in, and scrolled through my blog list, reading ones that amused me.  I hit upon one about a woman who is planning a coupe against a school mom that told girls to diet for the Spring fashion show.  I relish hearing the conclusion: her last post I loved involved inappropriate Christmas decor, a canned food drive, a woman in furs screaming at the cops, and several smug smiles. 

Reading that post got me in a frisky mood.  And not the "Sky King, jump in the shower real quick" frisky.  More the "Wow, my mind is incredibly sick. Yessss." kind of frisky.

So my friend with Sjorgren's was lamenting about how to display her collection of bunny plates for Easter.  She was being a little silly, talking about whether the bunny facing the toaster would get mad, or if she should move them around a bit so they wouldn't fight. 

I offered this:
I think that, after about a week, use some dry-erase markers to make it look like they had a major disagreement over who has to stare at the toaster.

At the end, right before Easter, you could use enough red to make one look like a homicidal zombie bunny.

You're welcome.

Now, after reading the other comments, I think I am quite possibly not of the same caliber her other readers dwell in. They were more helpful, offering suggestions on which picture looked better.  I don't think either of them had any ideas whatsoever on how to turn Easter plates into a giant Bunny Apocalypse.  Then I swoop in to save the day.  Or alienate a bunch more people.

I can do one of two things:  I can call up Crash Override from "Hackers" to come in, hack into her page and delete my comment hopefully before she reads it and is completely disgusted, or I can think of ways I can undo my damage.

Since Crash Override is busy not existing, I'm going to have to do some spin control.


"I had accidentally taken my sleeping pill instead of my enzymes, and they mixed badly with my morning crock pot oatmeal and protein shake. I'm so sorry, Please tell your other readers I had a medication mix-up."

"I was logged in to Blogger, and my son my twisted brother the weird neighbor kid must've gone in and left that comment, I am so embarrassed. He even changed my password to "fartknocker1", I've contacted the proper authorities."

Okay, peeps.  Which one?

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