Oh Shit

Well, it's officially time to clean up my language. In front of my kids. While they're awake. Hayden has been very persistent with his vocabulary. He's not afraid to share his feelings with anyone. Taking the time to be his bossy self, he informed me that he wanted to play his Spiderman game. I didn't get it fast enough, apparently.

I lingered on facebook, pissing him off even more.

He said, "Get it, damn it!"

Clear enough. Spiderman was then obtained in a mannerly fashion.

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

I've got to wake up from my chronic exhaustive state. A Red Bull wouldn't even suffice. Bring on the coffee I.V., please.

Happy 100th

Hayden would cringe. I'm going to change the 'special number' to 100. This is my 100th blog post. In the past year and a half, I've gained a few readers, lost a few (1), and kept a few, all of which shock the hell out of me (2).

I'd like to thank those of you who have stuck around, as I'm sure you've often wondered if I could qualify for an extended stay in the local psych ward. And I say that with the utmost sincerity. But, writing has been good therapy for me. It keeps me from feeling the strong urge to sniff some form of automotive inhalant.

I told myself I'd give it a year or so. If I continued to piss people off, I'd keep at it. So thanks, from your friend Autism's Bitch. I can now continue writing, shaming my family and future generations for years to come.

Cheers.

1. People are just hatin'. Apparently, my content is a little 'unfriendly' to those who starch their underwear. No hair off my balls. Whatever.

2. What also surprises me is Charlie Sheen's ability to remain absolutely unchanged for over 20 years, but that's another story.

I've Come To Realize

I've got a lot of junk in my trunk, folks. Literally. So damn much shit that I can't even fit a pint-size stroller in the thing. Come to think of it, I'm not real sure what I'm gonna do with all that ass inside my jeans, either. I asked for Spanx, but so far nobody's followed through with that request. All I ask is that the Lord above doesn't make me jog to lose this weight. That would be tragic. I'm busy enough dodging chemwebs while walking, let alone running. Oh well, off to finish the rest of the Halloween candy.