Then I started noticing the ads for the dating sites and Hot Mormons Who Want to Do You, and I realized that I no longer really control my own damn blog. I notice that some days I have hundreds of page views, and no comments, which doesn't really add up. If it's any consolation, there are days I can't comment on my own blog. I'm looking for a new host site, so I can crash the whole thing and start over with just my mom and her two non-English speaking co-workers reading it.
Before we go any farther here, you really need to see this to make sense of it all:
Oh yes. This is the kind of thing that just makes my day.
Thank God for Norwegian pop-star-wannabes.
There are so many layers of wrong here, but I'm going to tell you Tonje, from watching that video, I'm thinking your only three career options in life right now are:
1) Badly kept and bitter mistress.
2) Customer Service Rep
3) Crappy Housewife
I can see that instead of being a crappy housewife, you prefer to be a crappy lip-syncher. I particularly love the two douchebags who get out of the Corvette (when is the last time you saw a Corvette in a music video???) in their work boots and stainless steel chains and Fresh Prince hats, they are mouthing something no one can hear, and then give the worst rap ever recorded on You Tube in front of six of their closest friends.
Before you go getting all judgemental, I have news for you Tonje:
Being a crappy housewife is the
BEST. GIG. IN. THE. WORLD.
Since long sentences are hard for you, let's bullet this one out:
- You don't have to show up at a crappy job.
- You don't have to shower that often.
- Fuzzy bathrobe and rollers, standard.
- Scotch on the rocks for breakfast.
- Dog shit on the floor? Leave it.
- Chicken pot pie is the best you can do.
- People EXPECT you to swear.
- Those dishes might actually wash themselves.
So Tonje, as your American friend, let me ask you to reconsider. Being a crappy housewife might be just the ticket. You are one unplanned pregnancy away from your dream job.