King of the Sloths Returns

So now that everyone of my friends has pelted me with rotten fruit and called me a disgrace to blogging for failing to post even a single word for over a month, I felt it was my obligation to at least acknowledge that I am still alive. (In fact, I haven't posted for so long, I forgot my password, and it just took me 45 minutes of hellish "chatting" with customer representatives to retrieve said password from my Google overlords so that I could provide you with this important proof of life.)

My excuses for posting as frequently as a dead person are numerous and compelling: 1) I requested and received a TARP subsidy NOT to post so that more illegal aliens, I mean, undocumented workers could (which seems only fair); 2) the meds are no longer effectively controlling my bi-lateral procrastination syndrome and I'm searching for a holistic cure; 3) I've been burning the midnight oil working on my Children's Road Rage Alphabet Book (I'm up to the letter P: "Peabrained Patti smokes Pot and drives a Prius; she cut us off and didn't even see us; People like Pinhead Patti are a Pestilential Plague on the Planet and should be Pummeled with Pipes while we laugh with glee-us." Yeah, yeah, it needs work. Then again, Maya Angelou is a poet laureate -- so by that measuring stick, I'm Robert Frost and Tennyson combined; 4) oh yes, we moved; 5) we had a baby; 6) we moved and had a baby basically the same week; 7) we are now living under the same roof with three children under the age of four ("I LIKE the red cup RILEY!" "NOOOOO, I YIKE WED CUP, IDEE!" "MINE!" "NO, MIIIIIINE!" "UHHHHHHN!" "AAAAAAAAH" (in unison) "WAAAAAAAH!")-- AND two retarded, crap eating dogs; 8) I briefly considered changing jobs, starting on a strict, colon cleansing diet of emu and lentils at the same time we had the baby and moved so that we could set the record on that scale that assigns stress points to traumatic events; 9) every time I thought about blogging, at around 11 p.m., "Road House" would come on TNT and I would be compelled to watch; 10) I've been spending all my time Twittering (if that were actually the case, Tara would have followed the instructions in my Living Will and had me euthanized).

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

I have no more time right now to entertain and enlighten (isn't that Glenn Beck's phrase?), but I promise to return -- maybe this very evening -- to provide Nonsense Du Jour (or, Du Month).