Xanax Can't Defeat This Freak Out

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Ever have that moment in life when after you have been jumping up and down and screaming,"Look at me! Look at me!", and then they finally look at you and you're like WTF do I do now? That just happened to me this week. A publisher emailed me and asked me to submit some work samples. Holy shit snacks did you just read that? HE emailed ME. When I read that email I was like A: Who's the mother fucker that just sent me this prank because this girl is not laughing and I want to stab them in the ear with my stiletto. B: What if it's true then I could finally be on the golden brick road to fame, fortune and celebrity gift bags ( I sincerely only want the free stuff- especially if it's shoes or make up. OK maybe some shopping money but I can't handle the Hollywood stress of perfection 24/7). Or  C: He wants something funny to read while on the porcelain throne and then to wipe his ass with. Maybe he's just trying to see my boobies or naughty bits.



"Toto I just don't know if getting published is worth letting

him feel my boobies. Are you sure you will still respect me tomorrow ?"



Two days, four Xanax and an unmentionable amount of Community Coffee later- I still don't know what to send and I am in major fucking freak out mode (again) because my tidy package of why I am fabulous is due. Like next week. I consulted Carrie who may still be on pain meds and likely a little wonky and she said any post is fine. That's like saying I look good in anything, including Jersey Knit, which I don't. That shitty fabric clings into every bit of hail damage on my ass and screams look at me I need lipo- like everywhere! For all I know she means the one about the flying monkeys. I think I will have to make a wine offering to her tomorrow in order to get her answer narrowed down to 5 posts at most or at least one I recognize. I asked my sister Ugs and she is still in Disneyland with her two young kids and 5,000 Asian tourists so all I heard was a crude mix of cuss words and something in Chinese. I think. Maybe she was ordering dinner but I distinctly heard, "Sit down or I will beat your ass and let that giant mouse over there eat your head". She could use some Xanax , too.

What's better than a flying monkey?
A smoking flying monkey. With a gun!

So that leaves it to you all- would you pretty please help a Honey Badger out and vote on your favorite post? Voting buttons are on the top right hand side of the page. If your favorite isn't there , then add a comment below and I will add it to the vote gadget. If you need to re-read - they are mostly under  May and April on the lower right hand side archive thingy. Good gosh this is stressful. Probably popping Xanax and drinking coffee until midnight isn't helping much but I know I will be up all night obsessively reloading this page to see votes. Which will royally screw my day tomorrow which is all about getting The Girl's graduation party ready to rock. Nope- no stressful events stampeding me like a bunch of flying monkeys trying to catch fucking Toto here! Great, now I will have nightmares about monkeys, flying houses and creepy talking tin men. Thanks for nothing, imagination.