I changed the name of the blog.
See it? In the upper left?
It was Be Clever. But that was entirely too much pressure for this under the weather, under pressure (cue Queen and Bowie) gal on the move. Ok. Maybe not on the move so much as flat on her back in bed 99.9% of the time as I was under so much pressure it seems that I have sprung a leak of sorts (we are still waiting for test results from the spinal tap and MRI last week… more on those another day. Promise.) – my Monopoly money is on a fancy cerebrospinal fluid leak (CSF leak).
So I really can’t sit up for more than a few minutes at a time before a tricked out econo car with speakers that exceed the maximum weight capacity pulls up with full bass just inside the right side of my forehead. And then starts blasting at the inside of my head with various automatic weapons. It sucks. It hurts. Nothing cuts the pain. Except hanging out totally flat (no pillows) in bed. Blah. It’s annoying.
Anyway, I came up with the idea of the “accidental thong” when trying to explain to Alex what a wedgie is. Somewhere along the line I declared that “ladies don’t get wedgies, we get accidental thongs”.
And that’s pretty much the story of my life. The misadventures of me. The actual me. The one who gets accidental thongs and stubs her toes and bumps her head on everything. That’s me. Sure, I’m clever. But now that the pressure is off and I knocked off my internal editor, I’d like to have a little fun.
Because this ceiling is ugly, the ceiling fan needs a good dusting, and I can’t find the remote.
p.s. If you use a Kindle (either the neato gadget or any of the desktop/iphone/ipad applications) you can subscribe to Accidental Thong via Amazon!