So tonight I was walking my dog and thinking about what I should blog about this week because most of the posts in my draft folder are kinda half-written and don’t really have an ending and I was thinking that maybe I should throw myself in front of a car because that would at least give me something to write about and then I thought “Wow. There’s something really wrong with me. Maybe I need more meds”, but then I didn’t even have to maim myself because

I FOUND A MUSHROOM SHAPED LIKE A BOOB.

Fucking for real, y’all. It’s like God was all “Damn, what’s with the deathwish, bitch? I already gave you rheumatoid arthritis. That’s not enough for you? So selfish.” And then He’s all “You know what? Fine. Just throw yourself in front of a car. I’m out, dumbass.” But then He remembered my granny who is awesome and God-fearing and prays for me all the time and He probably sighed all grudgingly, like “Damn it. I totally owe Granny. Fine. I’ll give you this one.” Then, BAM! Boobie mushroom. And now I don’t even have to throw myself in front of a car. In fact, I think I could probably never post again and this blog would still considered successful just on the merit of this one boob God left on my lawn.

PS. I took like 18 photos of the boobie mushroom and the whole time my neighbor was giving me this look like “The fuck?” and so I started also taking pictures of my kid and the mailbox and random shit to throw him off because I didn’t want him to notice the boobie mushroom because I was afraid he might have a blog too and post about it first. So yeah…I do think there’s probably something wrong with me. I mean, my neighbor doesn’t even speak English so even if he does have a blog we probably have a different audience. There could be some cross-over with my bilingual readers though so I don’t think I’m completely overreacting.

PPS. You know what? Fuck him. His granny didn’t go to church every Sunday for 70 years so her granddaughter could find this boobie mushroom. I am totally going out to smash it right now so he can’t put it on his blog, which may or may not exist.

PPPS. Okay, I didn’t do it. Partially because it felt wrong to destroy a boobie mushroom that God made. And also because when I was little I heard that if you squash mushrooms, fairies will attack you. Mostly that second one. I’ve probably revealed too much about myself here but you know what? Doesn’t even matter: Magical .boobie. mushroom. It’s kind of so awesome I could write anything here and no one would even notice. It’s like peeing behind the Pope. Most of the people there are too into the Pope to notice and if they do notice it’s probably because they weren’t paying enough attention to the Pope. It’s like a Pope test. If you’re distracted by a little urine you lose your turn with the Pope and have to go to the back of the line. If I was the Pope I’d have someone peeing behind me all the time. That would be awesome.

PPPPS. This may be my last post ever because where do you go from here? I’m totally like Eva Peron right before she got cancer.

Comment of the day: You should totally throw a thin white t-shirt over it and water it. Oh, wait, I forgot. I’m a lady. Don’t do that. That’s offensive. ~ harmzie