Enter Satan on a neon pink surfboard -
"Yo dude! How many times have you sinned?!"
The president of the PTA is mad.
He upstaged her son, the asparagus.
The holiday play could not be saved.
If I hang up I will have sinned.
I have not worked this hard to end up in the land of boogie boards.
So I tell her that her son stole the show.
He might even end up on Broadway.
You know, maybe play a vegetarian Hamlet.
She hung up.
That wasn't very nice - she never once said a word about my son the snowball.
Do you know how hard it is to put a straight zipper in a circular, bunny fur costume?
And then find out your son is allergic to bunny fur.
At 2am I baked thirty Christmas tree cookies for 15 second graders.
Then the fat kid in the second row threw up all over them.
At that point in life you just want to smile, stand back...and throw up on the kid.
The devil made me do it.
FOR THE BETTER
Something is burning.
But I am on the phone and cannot hang up.
After all, the nice lady is telling me that the florist's van carrying three dozen marigold's for Aunt Bernice's funeral -
Has been hijacked.
Hello dear - how was your day? Uh-huh.
Listen, your Aunt Bernice's marigolds are being sold on the black market in Akron, Ohio.
Oh and I discovered I used yellow fingerprint instead of mustard on the kids' sandwiches.
Watch out for that damp spot in the living room.
The blackened catfish exploded in the oven.
Someone put Snoopy stickers on my glasses lenses and I could not see.
Don't you agree that five looks like a three?
The pizza turtle arrives in exactly 29 minutes.
It is cold.
It has anchovies.
And the delivery guy has no change.
The successful warrior should have three weapons.
The power of fear, a big army and pizza delivery.
SO LITTLE TIME
I am late.
It is ten minutes to the hour when I will fall writhing to the ground in the midst of a nervous breakdown.
I am only too grateful to be spending the last moments of my sanity in a traffic jam and listening to the radio play something that sounds like "I bit your arm off in love."
The couple in the car in front of me are obviously dying of some fast acting disease.
They seem to think there will not be time to make it to a hospital.
So they have commenced vigorously displaying their undying love for one another.
The man in the car next to me is rolling his eyes at me.
What does it mean when he smiles at me like that?
Maybe his underwear is too tight.
I guess I'll never know.
His tie appears to have gotten wrapped around the steering wheel.
Now his eyes are rolling in the opposite direction.
God, men confuse me.
RECESSION FASHION P.S.