Blogging is good, lying down is better!

As you can see, I haven't written anything since the Royal Wedding. After that, I'm not gonna lie, I fell on some hard times. The wedding had passed, but I just couldn't let go. I roamed the streets in a makeshift wedding dress pleading with anyone who'd listen, "Ello Govena, please sir, can I 'ave some more?" (That's all the British I know.)

My rock bottom was when I found myself in a back alley with a homeless guy (or street urchin, if you will.)  He said he'd give me a closer look at the royal couple for 5 American dollars. It turned out "The Royal Couple" was just the clever nickname he'd given his testicles. (Prince Harry and Prince Really Harry.)

Just as I was getting back on my feet, the unthinkable happened... The Oprah Winfrey Show ended.

I wanted to write a blog celebrating Oprah's final episode, but it didn't turn out so well. You see, while it's perfectly acceptable for me to dress as Kate Middleton, apparently it's frowned upon to wear black face and impersonate Oprah.

I love you, Oprah! Hold Me!

The end of Lady O's rein left a frickin' huge Oprah shaped hole in my heart. I went through the usual stages of grief...

• Denial: "She's not going anywhere." 
• Anger: "IF I DON'T HAVE A MOTHER F#$@ING AHA MOMENT, I'M GOING TO PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE MOTHER F*&$ING VAJAYJAY!!!!!!"  
• Bargaining: "God, please take Gayle instead."  
• Acceptance: "That's OK, I'll just learn how to become a better woman from the Nate Berkus show."  

After that I was ready to start living... and start blogging, but then the Subway told me the end of the world was coming.  Naturally, I had a lot to do to get ready for the Rapture.  I stockpiled toilet paper to be used as currency, carbo-loaded on mini chocolate donuts to have energy for looting, and slept 16 hours straight to be well rested for the afterlife.  You know I'm gonna be busy up there in Heaven making love to a young Patrick Swayze under a chocolate waterfall!

 When the End of Days turned out to be Apocalypse Not, I was devastated.  It prompted me to re-read "He's Just Not That Into You" to cope with my blow off from Jesus.  

If he doesn't call you (to be seated at the right hand of his father) he's just not that into you!

After that, I couldn't blog because I was sequestered on a jury for a high profile case!  I sat through hours of testimony and poured over the mountains of evidence.  When it was time to reach a verdict, my decision was made: GUILTY OF MURDER IN THE FIRST DEGREE! FRY THE B#*&@!

 Unfortunately I wasn't so much on the jury, as I was watching it on TV. 

When Casey Anthony walked free I flew into a fit of rage!  How can she feel no remorse over killing her daughter, yet I'm up all night feeling guilty over the Snickers I ate last Wednesday?

What a waste!  I lost so much valuable time that I could have spent helping orphans, donating blood, or even watching other TV shows.  I thought about maybe writing a blog about it... but nah, I'll just wait for my book deal. 

Just when I thought it was safe to go back to writing, there was a string of impending disasters: an earthquake, Hurricane Irene, The  9/11 anniversary, space junk falling from the sky, and a butt load of high humidity. For protective measures, I spent the last month in bed curled up in a fetal position. (Occasionally I'd stop, drop and roll to the refrigerator.) Safety First!



 
I thought maybe I'd give up blogging for good.  Then I saw that Taylor Lautner was releasing another feature film.  If he has the courage to do that, surely I can muster the strength to pen another blog.

You are so brave!