Remember when this POS literally hid in the bushes to avoid speaking to the press--WHICH WAS HIS JOB--and then later said it was because he was fat?

Raise your hand if you've ever body-shamed yourself to the point you've hidden in bushes to avoid doing your job. I'll wait.

Part of the uncompromising fun of having sleep apnea is discovering that your CPAP machine doesn’t work for you.

The next fun part is when you get CPAP-incompatible-shamed by the CPAP people when you return the machine. Seriously. I’ve been treated more respectfully by high-school bullies. Anyway, I’m about to find out the fun (read: hopefully, FINALLY sleep-through-the-night rest) of wearing this custom-made opaque-blue air-passage-opening dental appliance, which after months of insurance hoops and scheduling delays and measurements and waiting finally became mine this afternoon. And it came in a teeth-festooned bag!

So here goes nothing. Wish me rest ...

Does YOUR mother have a floor-to-ceiling rack of shelving for organizing and storing an exhaustive collection of baskets in every shape and size imaginable to transport various selections of pies, picnic supplies, pies, potluck contributions and more pies to every event and occasion imaginable?

Because MY mother has a floor-to-ceiling rack of shelving for organizing and storing an exhaustive collection of baskets in every shape and size imaginable to transport various selections of pies, picnic supplies, pies, potluck contributions and more pies to every event and occasion imaginable.

Melting the cat

Do you see that metal thing sticking out from under Bitch Kitty's ample butt? That's a little sliver of the end of the heat vent in our guest room, which is at the moment our de facto gift room, which is also at the moment FREEZING because Bitch Kitty has completely obliterated the only heat vent in the room with her selfish, bag-of-pudding body. I hope the metal partitions on the heat vent are not only uncomfortable for her but they also sear scarlet-letter lines in her selfish Bitch Kitty belly like grill marks on a tuna steak.

Fun fact: My mother, my sister and I--without conferring amongst ourselves--all picked that same celery color when we painted various rooms in our houses: the front hall in my sister's house, the ensuite (which was really an elfin bathroom at the end of a 5/8th scale Barbie(R) Dream Bedroom but ensuite makes it sound palatial and glamorous) in my Chicago condo, and the private cat sauna in my parents' condo.