Damn you writer's block

For some reason I've been having an insanely hard time thinking of anything to write, let alone something funny. I start off with some tirade against trousers that hit the floor then move on to something about how moms should be praised more when they put effort into their appearance. (We're not held up to the same standards as say, college girls and childless singletons.) Then I start writing a post about how I live in a hippie beach town and that allows you to really let any standards you ever had about personal appearance fall to the wayside. And then I take a deep breath.

Next comes a rant about how I'm so over Hollywood and their predictable stupid movies that make more money than they deserve and pay actors more than they're worth and yet I'm STILL HERE paying to rent the muther effing movie. Damn you Hollywood. Damn you.

As I sit here mulling the purpose of life and how I can make it funny, but more importantly relatable, my son went in to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. I heard his little voice say "Mom! Can I get you anything? A glass of wine? Some milk, or orange juice?"   That boy is going to make a mighty fine husband one day. Mighty Fine indeed. Unfortunately I can't fill up an entire post on that.

Hmmmm, so what else is there?
Well, I had a play date yesterday that closely resembled a "girls gone wild" video minus the nudity. And I'm not talking about the kids. It got ca-razee.  It ended with a play-date walk of shame linked arm in arm so one of the moms wouldn't topple over. I had to call her husband to come get her car. In retrospect we didn't really need to walk that half mile to her house. We could have just sat there and waited for him to get there and then drive them home.  Oh well, hindsight is 20/20. But THAT'S how you do a play date. If your play date friend doesn't live within drunk walking distance... then sionara.
*Note to self: Make friends with people who live closer to me.

On a birthday note- I booked the bounce house and sent out invites. Each child was able to invite 3 fellow classmates.  It's going to be short and sweet. Just like I like them. With no candy. You hear that?? NO CANDY! I'm saving the sugar in the cake for the end so my cracked out offspring don't need to be pulled out kicking and screaming like wild banshees over-the-shoulder style.

See, nothing to write about. I can't think of a single thing to write about. I'll do better tomorrow.
 Know why? Because tomorrow is an Open House at my son's school. Will I be bringing my flask? Yes. Yes I will.