It's been recently brought to my attention that I should start blogging. Apparently, I'm funny. And not just that, sometimes I'm outright hilarious. Antics ranging from famous one-liners, kitchen fires, foot-in-mouth epidsodes and fully-engaged kitchen bodyslides, I'm a one-woman comedy routine extrodinaire. The funny (yes, funny) thing is...I don't try. I'm a walking, talking cannonball careening towards the next catastrophe that will surely turn into a stand-up show based on actual, real life events.
I don't know know how to be intentionally humorous. Sitting here trying to sift through random thoughts to see what others might chuckle at is a real challenge. Most of the time, it's my mouth's extreme lack-of-filtration that gets the most laughs. I just can't stop. I'm here all day, folks.
So here's the plan. I'll try to remember to write down the shitshows as they surely will come streaming in. Inside jokes will become a Facebook phenomenon. Brother Doorknocker, I have answered the call.
Something tells me I'm going to change the world.
Catch me at Albertson's next. I'm out of cereal, and I'll be the jackass making inappropriate comments about the bagboys.
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