Friday, November 24, 2006

Oh, no you din't!

Okay, so I haven't blogged in awhile. It's been crazy 'round these here parts. However, many things have occurred since we last spoke. LOL

Plus, I think I'm still too stunned and haven't had enough therapy to get over the trauma I suffered on Thanksgiving night...

It began like this. We'd known for about a week or so that R's nephew, Dax, was going to be on the Craig Ferguson show to promo his new movie--Going To Jail. I awaited eagerly. I'm all about giving props ect and well, he IS R's nephew, yes?

Someday-way into the future-he MIGHT be my nephew too and I would have been proud of that. Do note the useage of the past tense there. Anyway, it would only be right and proper that I should cozy up on my bed with my honey, after a looong day of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for DAX'S UNCLE to show my support for his family member.

And all was well. For like two minutes of dialogue.

He and Craig joked about eating too much--yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda. And then--do you have any CLUE how hard this is for me to write? (breathing-- In with the good--out with the bad), I have no idea how we got there--nor can I remember what twisted bend in the road led us to the place where they MOCKED--yes, I said MOCKED, JOHN CUSACK! How he came into the picture escapes me. It's all a blur of Charlie Brown adults waah-waah-waahhing in the background now.

I know. That's what I said too. Dax Shepard, funny man extraordinaire, a potential FAMILY MEMBER like waaaaaay, waaaaaaay uber-far into the future, cranked on my John? It's blasphemy! He cracked about the movie Serendipity and Must Love Dogs. BOTH he and Craig. Like I didn't even exist. Like I wasn't even in the same room with them.

It was horrifying--stupifying-soo, soo low...

So I only have this to say. Surely you don't want me to enter into the fold harboring bad feelings bewtween us, do you? You CAN make it up to me, darling. We CAN make this right. Like say for instance if you were to bring John to MI for a family gathering and drop him in front of my seat at the picnic table... I MIGHT--MIGHT be able to forgive you. And I promise not to trample your butt to get to him. Or if I do, I won't leave marks on your cute, movie-star face.


I mean, I see it as the only way to make nice with me. Don't you all agree this is a fair and righteous settlement?

And I have to ask--what's next? An attack on my Barry???? LOLLOLLOLLOL

DC :)


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