El Smackdown no esta aqui!
That's the extent of my Spanish (along with "Donda esta la biblioteca?" and "Yo no soy marinero, soy capitan"). And I'm pretty sure something about it is wrong. I have enough problems with English.
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I'm not saying there's no Smackdown tonight because of the So You Think You Can Dance finale and it's true. It's because of the Crazie, and the SYTYCD finale was just a perk. SYTYCD is my Klonopin and don't you judge.
Instead, I bring you the opportunity to take advantage as I pay it forward. My winnings can become your winnings by way of your actions.
(By the way, you get an extra entry for correctly identifying the inspiration of that last sentence. Email me your answer so's you don't give it away.)
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1. Hell's Kitchen tonight. You should watch it. Because I watch it, and I write things, and I suffer, and no one likes to suffer alone.
2. Hobo Monday remains on in the style of Donkey Kong. It's next week. Get you chickpeas ready.
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This is Heather. She is batshit insane, and you can't blame it on the succubus currently inhabiting her uterus, because she was always like this. After you get through her barely-coherent rantings, read this week's other guest posts from some other kick-ass bloggers, if you haven't already. Which you should have. (If you're wondering why all the guests: go here.)
Hi there, it's me, Heather of Gild the (Voodoo)lily, helpin' a sister out (yes, I am totally linking my own blog because Michelle asked us to say who we were in the post and I love hyperlinking I FUCKING LOVE IT). ...
Many thanks to today's poster Peter of Qui Si Mangia Bene who, aside from taunting me with this sandwich because I once again ate a bowl of Special K for lunch, gets +10 for using the phrase "holy fucking shitballs." Thank you for the homage, Peter.
It's good to be back, albeit under difficult circumstances. A few of Michelle's blogger-type friends are going to fill in for her for a bit while she gets the training wheels back on her psyche enjoys some much-needed RnR. We all wish her the best, and you should too; only somebody certifiable in great ...
I'm doing badly. Like, not crying for 51% of the day is a massive victory. Hopefully it's part of this major med change and things will turn around sooner rather than later, before I have to figure out a way to commit suicide with bacon (I mean, a quick one. I already know how to commit drawn-out bacon suicide.).
I'm going to keep up the liveblogging because it makes me feel better to chronicle the doings of those crazier than I, but for the rest of the time I'm trying to line up some guest posters to keep you entertained for ...
This is one of those nights. The CRAZIE is at threat level red ("Gary Busey") and I could barely make it home from work without poking my left eye out with a pencil to feel something other than the crippling emotional pain.
To placate you, here is a pair of sleepy puppies, and that's not a euphemism for my boobs like it usually is.
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