I’ve already warned you we are the absolute worst.
Y’all, there’s no way we didn’t make the naughty list this year.
Don’t stop now – keep reading!
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Tag Archives: who we are
We Are the Worst
Just a quick one today.
Super quick. Practically a one-liner, really.
I’m not busy or anything, I’m just pretty sure I’m going to piss a lot of people off with this one and I want to get it over with and move on to the torch-and-pitchfork stage.
Terminal Urology
You know that narcissist test where they ask if you have backup dancers?
No? Never heard of it?
Okay, so it’s this thing, not quite a quiz, and one of the statements is “I often visualize myself with backup dancers/singers.” For the record, I’m pretty sure that was the only one I agreed with, but I can’t remember for sure if there were others because my friends were so freaked out by the backup dancer thing (and the assertion that I need a theme song, too) that that became the topic for the rest of forever.
I was going somewhere with that thought… hang on…
Not Even Karaoke
Offspring and I are both musically inclined; this is actually one of like four things we have in common, along with eye color, sarcastic bent, and a hard-wired need to be right.
Husband doesn’t just hate musicals: I’ve literally never heard him sing.
Who’s In Charge Here?
We’ve established that I’m not a grown-up, so nothing I’m about to say should come as a surprise to you.
And yet…
Go, Team!
You may have noticed I don’t mention the sportsball here. That’s because it’s not really my thing, generally speaking. This is not a secret.
Looks about right.
Popping the Question
There are questions never asked here, and I want you all to know that I do appreciate your restraint, your apparent faith in me. There is, however, one question that I get asked in real life that I feel is best addressed here (no, it has nothing to do with managing my staggering sex appeal – seems everyone just assumes I’m completely oblivious to my effect on others); strangely, the question is about this blog, even though, as I’ve alluded a mere eight commas ago (shut up, I do not run-on, it’s called a complex sentence, and the count is now eleven) it’s never asked by anyone who actually follows this blog.
