Who Writes These Things???

I got one of those chain emails from a friend of mine the other day... You know the ones I'm talking about... Not the "Pass this on to 30 people in 30 seconds or you will DIE" email; the, "Diary" type entry email that highlights the suffering of neglected pets or the evils of abortion or the plight of some cause or even this little gem that should never die.

These things have been around since the birth of email and I've always wondered (as a writer) who the hell writes these things?!?!

Well, today, I DO! >;-)

DAY ONE: Today I am am born. Happy Birthday to me! My mommy doesn't even know I'm alive yet because right now I am very, very small. I am only a few dead skin cells and about 5 pieces of dog hair but I am already growing. I'm so happy to be alive! I can't wait to meet my new mommy!

DAY TWO: I have already grown sooooo much! I've added so many dead skin cells, hair and lint to me that I now have a discernible shape.... I am a DUST BUNNY! My Mommy has made me so comfy under this bed. I love her sooooo much!

DAY THREE: I have many brothers and sisters now. We all are sooooo happy here under Mommy's bed that we dance for her every time she opens the door or walks by. She still doesn't know we're alive, but soon we'll be large enough to roll out from under here and lovingly attach ourselves to her shoes, socks, slippers and pant cuffs. Oooo! I can't wait for that day! I know it will be here soon!

DAY FOUR: YAY!!! I think my Mommy is aware that I'm alive! Last night she started coughing and sneezing something fierce! I think my Mommy knows that I am causing her to feel this way. It's my way of saying, "Hello! I love you!" tee hee!!

DAY FIVE: My brothers and sisters and I had such a wonderful time with Mommy last night! She stayed up all night talking to us and telling us stories! My favorite story went like this: "AhCHOO! Hurk! Cough, cough, wheeeeeze! groan.... sunuvabitch!" Isn't it the BEST story ever!

DAY SIX: A gigantic snake that made the most horrible sucking noise invaded my home today.... Today my Mommy killed me.

SAVE THE DUST BUNNIES!!!!! STOP VACUUMING!!!! END THE SPREAD OF DYSON NOW!!!! CALL YOUR CONGRESSMAN!!!

If you believe in this blog post, PLEASE help save the dust bunnies! Link to me, digg it or track back NOW! We MUST stop the senseless slaughter of dust bunnies everywhere! Re-post this on 20 blogs in the next 20 minutes or all your hair will fall out and your feet will smell like cheese!!! Do it! NOW!!!!!!!

Oh boy. I'm going to hell aren't I?

This is why I love you...

Yesterday, I was feeling a little blue. I've been working my ass off with my freelance writing/marketing/turd polishing business and sometimes, I feel like I'm not getting anywhere... Couple that with the winter blahs and well, you have a recipie for disaster!

So... in the middle of my bout of self-loathing and depression, I get an IM from my buddy Phil.

A little about Phil: He's one of those guys that you need to stay in touch with because he always manages to find the time to be that most creative and "awesomely filled with awesomeness" kinda guy. I mean, the man decided he wanted to learn to play the guitar so what does he do? Lessons? Nah! He BUILDS his own guitar, ~then~ teaches himself how to play!!! Needless to say, I have nothing but admiration!

Anyway, So, Phill IMs me and asks the dreaded question, "How are you?"
This, of course, is my cue to launch into my depression rant from which I can see no end; however, I know that the end results will probably make me even more depressed.

When I pause to take a breath and look back over the bile I've just spewed online, Phil replies to me... but not with your usual guy-looking-like-deer-in-headlights, "I'm sorry" babble that makes you realize at once that this man would rather be evicerating his pancreas with a rusty spoon than talking to you in all your depressive glory...
Nope. Not Phil.
instead, he replies with the following...

So I'm talking to my Uncle the other day and I was telling him how you and I have been playing Scrabble on FaceBook. Basically, I was saying that I had forgotten how much fun the game is and that we should play sometime; to which my Uncle replies, "You mean 'Fatgirl and Asshole.'"
I say, "What?"
My Uncle continues, "My kids were playing it not to long ago and my daughter was mad at my son because he had passed of "fatgirl" as a word... so later on in the game, she responded with the word, "asshole." When I looked at the board and saw those words, I decided to call the game Fatgirl & Asshole."

Now I don't know if it's because I write for a living or if I can just hear Phil's warmth and glee translate over my cold computer as he writes, but I damn near fell out of my chair laughing at the thought of re-dubbing Scrabble as "Fatgirl & Asshole." In fact, it's a day later and I'm still laughing!!

But leave it to Phil to listen to me vent and then come back with something just so out of the ordinary, that it gives me pause and lightens my mental load better than any sympathetic words of comfort ever will.

Thanks Phil. This is why I love you so.

Now log on to
FaceBook so I can finish kicking your ass in Fatgirl & Asshole, willya?!?!

PS: My apologies to Phil & his Uncle as I'm sure I butchered the original telling in my paraphrasing.