Who Is This BoB Fella?
Sorry I don't know the lowdown on the BoB Awards as asked in the comments of the last post. I think that you just get nominated and then the judges do the judging. I haven't seen any sign of voting over there.
Some of my favorite blog buddies are listed right along side of me. Besides Barbara nominating me for all around swell and dandy chick or something like that, Michelle also nominated me into the humor category. Thank you for that, Michelle. (THIS JUST IN) William of Poop and Boogies also nominated me in the BoB Awards. Thank you. How did I get so lucky to have all of you sweethearts in my virtual life?
I don't really know what all that means. Maybe more traffic and eyes over here, maybe not. Maybe I can win a pretty Burger King crown with glitter glue. That'd be hot. Maybe I just need to begin my speech writing where I say "It was great to be nominated."
So I was thinking about this award stuff. How can anyone judge this place as funny if I got dead people all over the joint? Dead people just aren't funny and nothing good can come of them. Time to clean up some bodies on this rotten year, formerly known as 2005. So you read me loud and clear family and friends, no more fucking dead people, ya dig?! Also no more serious illnesses, life threatening or not.
Now, for you new visitors who may have found your way into my cyber home via this BoB thing, welcome. Have a seat, grab a cup of your favorite drink (alcohol will increase the humor level here so booze is encouraged) and read some of my old stuff. I know you want to read what is right here in front of you. Sure, it may be easier than clicking yet another link but trust me when I say, the older stuff that I wrote was way funnier than the crap I am about to put before you. I'll give you a few links to some of the classic posts.
Here you have my breasts before powdered milk came out.
This is where you can read about my lack of bladder control.
Good things come to those who wait. This one here is where I was supposed to make my fortune. It's also proof that I was the first girl on my block, to pee my name in the snow.
Did you see Home Fires and think there were going to be stories about fire? Well, I'm not one to disappoint, so go read this.
If you are interested in a softer side of me, read about My Immortal.
I think those have been the favorites among the readers here.
Heart attack city is where I spent the better part of my day yesterday. I awoke to thunder and lightning. I lay in bed listening. I love storms. The rain came down in buckets and danced on the roof. A snap and a zap came out of the sky. It was loud enough to stir Mr. Lane. He jumped up and yelled, "What the hell was that?"
"It's just a storm. Go back to sleep."
"Its January. We never get storms like this in winter."
"Yeah, it is really weird."
Before long the two of us were headed to the kitchen for coffee. I opened the blinds so we could watch the storm. The transformer at the top of the pole at the far end of our yard was smoking. Mr. Lane called the utility company.
After the extended crew arrived, we watched them fight the wind and hail as they tried to work on the transformer. I kept getting nervous watching them sway so high in the air. I decided to see if the internet came back.
This is where the heart attack comes in. My laptop was plugged into a surge protector but somehow received damage from the storm. My wireless router was completely fried. None of my documents would open and everything was going haywire. Months of work had not been backed up. All of my work contacts were gone, stories, gone too. The latest edits on my book, also not backed up, gone.
It took a couple of hours to assess the damage. As I tinkered around, some of the things started working again. I'm hopeful to get everything back . My computer fixer guy said he is sure he can get all of the things back. He doesn't think the Toshiba is ever going to be the same again. (Dear Santa, is it too late to ask for a new laptop?) Thankfully the desktop he fixed a few months ago went unscathed during the storm so I am not completely screwed.