This Is Not A Drill
Don’t the hours grow shorter as the days go by
You never get to stop and open your eyes
One day you’re waiting for the sky to fall
And next you’re dazzled by the beauty of it all
A third Boston album. Season six of The Sopranos. The Arizona Cardinals in a Super Bowl. A new post from NukeDad. These are all things you thought you’d never see in your lifetime, yet they happened. I guess the best way to end this sabbatical is to just jump back in with both feet; so here I go. It’s been awhile, so bear with me as WordPress and I become reacquainted. I still need to finish my sister Stacey’s birthday post, which is now almost 4 months overdue. I’ve been concentrating on family, faith and frustration during my absence and I’ve made headway on all fronts; I just haven’t been writing about it. I should clarify and say that my frustration is not with my family, just the situation that NukeBoy2 is in. He’s doing much better, by the way and I think that we finally have a handle on his illness and will be able to move on with our lives in spite of it.
During my time away I was encouraged to get back in the game by Melisa with 1 s and shamed and ridiculed to get back in the game by WeaselMomma. Last night on twitter there was a shame and ridicule tweet from Melisa, so I knew I had to act fast before they both went all Mainstream Media on me. I think this must be the way Tiger Woods felt on Thanksgiving; I’m looking for the keys to the Escalade while Melisa and WeaselMomma are looking for a 4 iron.
Far be it from me to ridicule the world’s first billionaire athlete, but he made it really easy, didn’t he? What the hell was he thinking? It’s not like he’s married to Joy Behar, I mean; Come on, Tiger! Your wife was on the Swedish Bikini Team for crying out loud! Maybe she’s a total wench behind closed doors, I don’t know; but I highly doubt it. I think it’s a case of someone thinking they are above it all and getting hit upside the head with a dose of reality. Or a lob wedge. Enough of that tangent; let’s get back to our story.
After months of badgering taunts, harassing tweet messages, peanut gallery heckling, name calling and general tormenting; WeaselMomma and Melisa with 1 s have succeeded in doing what even I thought was impossible; they’ve got me behind the keyboard again. Be careful what you wish for, ladies. I would be remiss if I didn’t add one more thing: Thank you.