If You Don't Like Getting Drunk Dialed, Don't Read This Post

Okay, people, I haven't been around lately... Did you miss me? Did you even notice I was gone!?! I've stopped checking my stats 'cause it was not helping my Bipolar condition any. Some days you love me, some days you don't even know I'm alive. Yeah, yeah, you have lives, other loves, other friends. Sure, I'm not special. I get the message.

LOUD AND CLEAR.
I'M NOT DEAF, YA KNOW!

So... back to the reason I haven't been around. Well, it could be 'cause my parents were in town and I spent most of my time driving around LA or stuffing my face. It could be 'cause I'm getting ready for our trip across the world where I won't be able to read a single street sign (freaky), or it could be that I had writer's block so bad I couldn't think of one word to write that didn't suck balls.

I'm reminded of a scene from a Woody Allen movie ("Manhattan"??) where he's going down on a woman in bed but he's having trouble focusing because visions of his parents loom above his head, judging his technique and talking about him like he wasn't even there. (Now if that's not a 'Woody whacker' I don't know what is...ba dum bum.)

Well, since I rarely go down on my husband (yes, Tootsie F., I know we all should do it regularly to keep our hubby's happy but, cry me a river, when he starts treating me the same way he did when he WASN'T getting any...THAT's when I'll decide to give him some) my horrifying visions of parental criticism come to me when I'm writing.

(Insert NY Jewish accents here):

Mom (reading the monitor over my shoulder): "What!? I never did that! What the hell are you talking about? And...even if I did do that...who gave you permission to write about it? Sheldon, tell her she can't write about it."

Dad (over my other shoulder): "Eh, she could write about it if it were funny but I don't even think it's funny. Do you think it's funny? Now Woody Allen, HE's funny."

Soooooo, I haven't been around 'cause I've had parental-induced writer's block. Still kinda have it but since my parents are now in another time zone and since I went out to dinner and had a couple of Ketel One Cosmos, I still have nothing of value to say, but now I just don't give a shit.

Bwaaaaahhhhhh, merlotmom is scaaaaaary when she's drunk blogging. It's like gang bang drunk dialing. Wooo haaaa. This is fun. Maybe I'll give my husband a blow-job. Nahh. I'll go watch Mad Men instead. That Jon Hamm is hawwwt.

Oh, don't forget, see ya tomorrow for "Give Me The Grateful Life Monday" and the winners of last week's contest. Remember you can win 70 free prints from Snapfish or an awesome souvenir from Japan. Yes, Japan! You still have until 5pm PST to be a contender. (I'd link to the post but I'm still buzzed and now I'm horny and want to see Jon Hamm stick his hand up another women's coochie and then wrap his philandering digits around his stunning and pathetic sex-starved wife so you'll have to find the post yourself - you won't have to go too far, remember, I 've had writer's block.)

Okay, enough of me and my run-on lunacy. Tomorrow, my lovelies. I'm off to Hamm-land. I'm hot just thinking about it.

*photo courtesy of google images and myspace.com