SOGOTP...

You'd think that while I was benched from life with a knee injury, I would have taken advantage of my down time by writing gobs and gobs of boogs(ew). But no, apparently I was too busy downing Vicodin by the handful, dozing lazily in my recliner while listening to Maury tell Jason that he IS the father. It was chore for me to even write a friggin email. Side note: Does anyone else think Connie Chung is embarrassed by Maury's one-trick-pony show of questionable paternity? I mean, she should be. It's awful. I should know, I watched it for 2 weeks straight!

Anychung, it's now been over a month since I've written anything, over a month since I injured my knee, and 3 weeks since my surgery. It's time to shit or get off the pot...or as writers say, "it's time to scribble or get off your fancy ergonomically correct chair". I totes just made that up, I have no idea what writers might say instead of "shit or get off the pot". Actually, when you think about it, "shit or get off the pot" might possibly be the most perfect way of urging someone to hurry up and do it..."it" being many things like, a shot of tequila, or sticking a sleeping person's hand in warm water, or the act of licking a toad, or...you know...pooping. Wait, what? Um, right, yeah, so it's time for me to shit or get off the pot, and this girl is gonna shit. God, this went downhill in a hurry, didn't it? Not exactly the kind of performance I hoped for after coming off the injured reserved, but what can you do?

So, my faithful readers...all 2 of you...I hope today's crapfest marks my return to the wonderful world of nonsensical randomness that I love to write about.