Monday, January 5, 2009

And still not syndicated

So this right here? This is my 200th post (on Blogger. Probably much higher over all, but I can't count those because I deleted the other blog. Because of the naked pictures of Oprah Winfrey. Just kidding. Although that blog did used to get googled for that a lot and I'm all YOU PEOPLE ARE SOME SICK FUCKS. Which is the whole point, right? To connect with other people who are like minded and by like minded I mean FUCKING DISTURBED).

Honestly, I'm as surprised as anyone that I've been blogging this long. The only thing that I've done consistently more of? Breathing.

That's because y'all? YOU ARE MY OXYGEN.

Also?

You had me at hello.

I just made that phrase up. It's catchy, right?

Doesn't it seem like for this monumental occasion I should have had something planned? Some really wicked good post where I charm you and also teach you a little something about life? Like Facts of Life or some other feel good 80's show with a catchy theme song? Hey! Remember Family Ties? Me, too! No, really, what I was going to say is that Alex P. Keaton looks exactly the same as he did back then. Also, the only episode of that show I remember is the one where the blond sister was a Valley Girl and wrote a running away note that could only be deciphered by omitting ever other word, which was "like". As in, "So, like yesterday? Like me and like Tiffany like went to the like mall and like, stuff and like we, like, totally like saw these like hot guys? Like at like Orange Julius? And one of them, like, had THREE NIPPLES, like for real and he like showed it to us in the like dressing room at like 5-7-9 and then, Tiffany like totally like licked it and I was all, like GAG ME WITH A SPOON!"

Further more, once one begins to interject the word "like" into a sentence one begins to spew it uncontrollably and with out reason. Much like "dude" and words of that ilk. In fact, to recover from a "like" fit, the only cure is to trade it for another word. One might substitute "one" for example, but then one would sound pretentious and like one had a proverbial stick up ones backside.

Almost as bad as referring to oneself in third person, which is kind of eccentric and charming if one is a drag queen or maybe a really sparkly hooker but less so if one is a reality television contestant (cough, SUEDE, cough). Actually, I take that back. Kind of. Because what reality television personality isn't just a hooker? Maybe with less leath-ah, but not with out the air of selling ones soul for the possibility of slight financial gain and the certainty of embarrassment?

For that, you could just stuff a hamster up your butt like Richard Gere and then sell the pictures to The Enquirer, or as we call it round my house "The Paper". I bet he talks about himself in third person. Doesn't he just seem like that type? Maybe it's the hair that makes me think that. I don't trust people with hair that looks like the wads of dog hair I fish out of my vacuum. Also? I don't trust people with bad posture. Don't you think it's so telling when people walk around all hunched and slumped? Like Igor. Only less charming. Because, you know, at least Igor had that whole yess master thing going for him.

Also, I don't trust people that don't wear underwear. Seriously, you're not that fucking busy that you can't spare 5 seconds to pull on a pair on chones. I, for the record, am wearing panties. Great big ginormous white cotton numbers from Fruit of the Loom or maybe Hanes! Her Way! or maybe Omar the Tent Maker, I can't see the tag because it's behind me so you'll just have to live your life with out knowing who makes my delicates. Unless you want to send me $5 because then I'll totally send you my panties. Only not using E-Bay because APPARENTLY selling your used underpants as anything other than "used clothing" is considered a violation of it's service terms and you know what that means? Somewhere a dirty pervert is smelling brand new panties because I am being denied my right to commerce! Is this the kind of America that you want to live in? No, I thought not. I should probably be getting some kind of bail out money for this stompling of my rights to free market trade.

This is the part of the show where ALF tries to eat the cat.

Only, now that I've said that? I'm pretty sure that Blogger is going to flag this blog as being of questionable content and you know what I have to say to that? NO SHIT, BLOGGER PEOPLE. But maybe we can bring this back from the brink?

No, probably not. So instead, I will leave you with this.

10 little kittens say Meow:

Robin said...

Did you know porn stars do that??? Sell their undies??

Some are worn a couple of days and those go for a higher price!!!

And I'm not tellin' how I now that!!

Miss Thystle said...

well since you didn't ask how I knew about that eBay thing, I won't ask...

Jane! said...

Jane, like thinks that Happy Dance thing is just, like, icky, dude!

Congrats on 200! And so glad you are keeping the undie industry in business.

Jane thinks like really. What do those commando girls throw like at rock concerts?

Amy said...

had a crush on Balki when I was 6 or so. Seriously. YOU are my new Balki.

kristin said...

Crap. I just checked my dashboard thingy and I'm at 290 posts. I missed the 100 and 200 mark, apparently.

I also apparently ramble a LOT more than I thought.

Someone remind me to set off fireworks or flash a boob or something at #300, okay?

Thanks.

Racie Lover said...

Oh dear. That was what Paco would call "a rant" rather than "a post" although he doesn't read either one so he is disqualified.

I just want to know what having hit your 200th post has to do with delicates. BTW, as Lorrie will attest to, I had a tough time getting through that post. It was full of all things scatalogical and I have a real aversion to that subject. I finished reading it, however, since I heart you and will be a loyal follower until the Blogger Police have you forceably removed, which may be momentarily. I'm just saying.

Bj in Dallas said...

I was beginning to think everyone had moved away and left me here..
then Lorrie cuts her bangs, and Kregs not dead, and then you post this. No wonder I like you. That is exactly how I think. The only post I liked on Match.Com said he hates walks on the beach and will kill and eat your cat. I could name him Alf....
when I first read your blog, I thought you were a prim and proper little Irish girl that wore a bonnet with a bow. Little did I know you were trying to manufacture Liberator knockoffs in your basement....that was the day I knew....:)

Bj in Dallas said...

congrats on 200, btw, lets drink to that...!

Lorrie Veasey said...

Happy 200th post to one of the best damn bloggers on the interweb!! Wether you're posting about panties, describing your morning constitutional, showing off your rack, or writing an amazing poem- it is ALWAYS a delight to come here. You may be a thystle to them, but you're a dandy lion to me. (oops, sorry-that last bit made me throw up in my mouth a lil bit too.)

Anonymous said...

Thystle, I bow to your creative juices & thought processes. You girls that I stalk & follow on the Interwebs make my days so much fun.

Here's to another 200!! (sound of shot glasses clinking together!)