rememberies.

I'd quite forgotten how inspiring it is to suggest I'm gonna disappear from the blog; inevitably, there's a gush of things to say to you eight people who straggle by on the random odd weekend to peep and see whether I'm still just as seriously incapacitated by insanity as I've always been.

(The answer is yes.)

Feel free to keep reading!, though. 

About bloggers I'd like to hump.  Or, rather, who you'll want to hump.  But you'll have to wait in line behind me.  I brought snacks, though, so that's okay.  I'm a sharer.  As my son has recently informed me that I must be if I'd like to survive socially.  (Unless you don't eat nuts.  Because it's trail mix.  Jack already picked out most of the fake m&ms, and most of the dried berries, so the balance is kind of -- nuts.  Apropos, non?)

Anne Nahm.  Read her.  Well, I mean, it's not a fucking *mandate*.  Just - a hearty recommendation.  If you like to laugh.  Which I do.  But what do I know?  I'm insane.

Mithras.  He's kind of a pompous ass with a sex-blog fetish, and I suppose that's why I like him so much.  Also, he's rather overtly taken with politics.  (Probably a direct result of having a sex-blog fetish.  Once you've gone down that road, it's all cattywampusness from there.  As you've probably observed with other equally sinister types.  Plus, he needs some assisting, I understand, in winnowing down the stale links in his sex-blog links section.  Maybe you could do him a solid on that.  You know.  As a favor.  To me.  Remember?, about the trail mix sharing?  Yeah.  You're that much closer to already-handled nuts.)

better now.  Kristin's writing is more attractive than television.  I do not say that lightly.  Nor should you take it lightly.  Televisions are very, very heavy, and can ruin feet and other limbs for generations.  Or at least days.

Halushki.  (But we've been promised to one another for after our husbands die, you know, so we can hold hands in the nursing home and shit, iow: don't bother barking up that particular tree.  Just love her from afar.  There's to be no snack-sharing on this one, either, yo.  Unless you're her sister.  In which case, heh!, I was only kidding.  I have but the most platonic brand of love in my heart for Jozet.  Girl scouts' honor.  *three-finger salute*)

Lotta and Gwen.  Although my envy for their neighbor-status has lately outweighed my ability to appreciate them as much for their individually incredible qualities.  You can have all the snacks in this queue.  I'm off pouting in the corner, and will be doing so for some time.  (Plus I get to talk to them both on the phone *almost* enough to sate me.  Enough, anyway, that I don't need to stand in a fucking queue for them.  You can jostle to the front here.  Unless Lotta's doing a ring-giveaway, in which case, back off, bitches, 'cause I want me one a' them rings, and I'll do whatever it takes.  InCLUDing pay actual money for one.  Yes.  I know.  I'm a wild thing.)

Nora's taking two this time.  She's rather greedy.  And I'm ecstatic for her.  Also, my mind is kinda blown regarding how amazing science is, but then, my mind fails over simplistic shit, so, you know, no surprise there.

Cristina's rabid fan base needs to rediscover her.  Her writing, albeit far less frequent of late, is still sharp as a goddamn sushi knife.  Go.  Go forth and read.  Here's a fresh bag of trail mix for you (Jack finally decided to eat the nuts, since the fake m&ms and dried berries were depleted).

Oh Joy! doesn't need any bumps from me, but I do find that my heart feels lighter when I read her blog.

Jenny needs help from me even less than the last blogger.  She needs help from me like a dog needs a flea's assistance on matters of -- any kind.  It's possible I may even *damage* her shiny rep by including her, but I'm a loyal, little bag of pathetic, so she's on the list.   (Also, I may be wrong, which means I *am*, but isn't it a little *overtly* coincidental that "bloggess" so clearly imitates "i obsess" -- yes.  You're right.  They rhyme.  Obviously, Jenny came up with "the bloggess" after having fallen fathoms-deep in love with my blog name's sound.  Rhythm.  Feel.  Touch.  Scent.  The way its hair looks just after a dip in the ocean.  The way its ass swishes when it's walking through the mall in adorably sassy* high-heeled sandals.  The way it can carry a tune and bowl every.damn.body. in the room at the karaoke bar OVER with its moderately acceptable quality.  Them bitches is SCREAMIN' when the song is through.  And this blog?  Oh, it just bows.  And smiles.  Quiet.  Assured in the knowledge that Jenny's blog wants it so damn bad.  So. bad.  But we won't tell, it says.  It says this with its eyes.  Its woebegone, knowing eyes-that-are-actually-just-streaming-code, like in The Matrix.)

*Yep.  Bringing sassy back.  It's needing a good airing, I'm thinking.  I'm Irish, so leave that last sentence alone.  Mostly German, really.  A wee bit o' Irish.  Mostly just the whiskey I drank earlier.  It wasn't actually Irish whiskey, though.  It was American-made.  We can't afford the Irish kind.  Those SNOBBY, STUCK-UP FUCKING IRISH BITCHES THAT THINK THEY'RE SO RAD because they make whiskey in IRELAND. 

Fuckers.

Uhm.

Ruth, of the exploding-tampon-Ruths.  You may remember her; she's kind of TOTALLY FABULOUS.  Her blog still, in fact, exists.  She's awfully busy with something she refers to as "a job," not sure what she means by that, I think it's some vaguely-worded insult she made up on the fly to pretend she wasn't just blowing me off all those times I called, but it's cool.  The point, people, is that you need to read her.  She won't write you back, and she most CERtainly won't call you back, or even answer your calls, and at some point you may not even be able to call her at all, because her number will have been disconnected super-randomly, and you may be inspired to drive to her house, all the way across the country, and snuggle down in the grass nearby with some binoculars and an industrial-sized box of Easter peeps, already ripened, just to discover what the deal is with her phone (or you can use whatever excuse you like; that was mine, but it's been used, so I highly recommend inventing a fresher one, or she'll see right through you, and if you're in the field eating those peeps when you do it, she'll DEFinitely see through you because those bitches can make you radioactive, which shines out of your fucking pores, so maybe just stick with Cadbury cream eggs if you insist on eating Easter candy while stalking Ruth).  You may never find out about the phone, though, but you will seriously enjoy the tour of the local police station; it's lovely.  You can't go wrong with that restroom, and those people know how to FRISK. Let me tell you.  It's a hell of a trip.

n+1 = a very good online publication.  I enjoy it, but not nearly often enough.

Mary writes like Faulkner, if Faulkner fucking RULED as much as Mary.  Read, and thank me later.

There's funny, and then there's Melanie.  I'll let you decide what's what.

Did you know the fucking stellar/brilliant Cho blogs?  I did.  And now, so do you.

Got any tips for me?   Post 'em in the repository.  And have some sticky nuts, along with my undying gratitude.  *bows*

Comments

[Kristin]

I love you. And your set-ups, I might still need them.

xo.

[Mary]

Does this mean I have to stop using punctuation?
xoxo

YOU fucking rule.

[Gwen]

You do know that ALL lotta and I ever, *ever* talk about is you. Yup. It's true: it's all deb all the time.

[lildb]

if i thought you really meant that, Gwen, i'd stop nursing my imaginary wounds.

on second thought, no, i wouldn't.

nursing wounds is pure heaven. try it. i highly recommend.

[Jenny, Bloggess]

I was on blog talk radio the other day and when the interviewer asked me which bloggers I love I said you and Lotta. True story.

And technically I loved you before I came up with "TheBloggess" so it's entirely possible that I subconsciously stole your rhyming awesomeness.

[lildb]

aHA!

uh, i don't really have a follow-up to that.

[Jozet at Halushki]

I'm kissing you all platonic like on the lips.

[anne nahm]

You are made of awesome!

[magpie]

You can't go off and hide, you know that, right?

[mamatulip]

You might like Woman in a Window - www.womaninawindow.blogspot.com

[Lawyer Mama]

I love it when you get all nutsy and stalkery. Now when are you going to come stalk me? I'll even leave the curtains open for you.

xoxo

[furiousball]

hey this is like a whole other place that i didn't know about before i was at this place. btw, mamatulip and i are horrible at guessing what things are when knitted, just today we both guessed that someone knitted an outdoor camping tent. see? exactly.

exactly.

[nonlineargirl]

Quite a list you've got there. No wonder I never see you any more, you are too busy. But since you know I am going into a cave for about 2-3 years, how about we see one another before June? (I'll let you rub my belly for luck.)

[Amanda]

I shall go a'browsing. Enjoy the quiet, may you find unexpected bits of overlooked trail mix faux chocolate.

[Backpacking Dad]

I want to buy you a pretzel.

[Shutter Bitch]

I have a love hate relationship with these kinds of posts. On the one hand, NEW BLOGS! On the other hand, ugh, new blogs. That I'll love and want to marry and lick, erm I meant read every day, but that I don't have much time to include in my already swollen bloglines. Ugh, NEW BLOGS! Yay!

[apathy lounge]

As if my blogroll wasn't LONG ENOUHGH! at this very-as-we-speak-moment!! Now I've got to go off and read these bitch--er--lovely folks and then probably add them to my impossibly long list of "MUST READ STAT" blogs that threaten to keep me from living a normal life outside of my office because that's where my computer is. They set the bar too high, writing-wise, as do you, my friend. Unlike the game of Limbo, this is one time I don't enjoy sliding quite so easily underneath it.

[Lotta]

Debbie! You are the sweetest talker in my life. Thank God! You know I think you are the bees knees. Don't be jealous. Everytime I see Gwen we always say, "Have you talked to Debbie? What's new with Debbie" within the first 5 minutes of our conversation.

And Jenny - Thanks man. I'm so lame I haven't called you back yet. Problem is I remember at midnight, when I have time to myself. And I'm afraid Victor would kick my ass like he did the leprechaun's if I did that.

[Redneck Mommy]

Thank god most of these blogs are already in my reader.

Because it just confirms I have good taste. But I knew that because I love you.

Smooches.

[Ruth Dynamite]

If you were to camp out on my lawn with a supply of Peeps or Cadbury eggs or even just some stale candy canes from years past, I'd run out at full speed to join you. And together, in full view of my ever curious neighbors and the brilliant stars above, we'd eat those Peeps and Cadbury eggs and gummy-stale candy canes. Oh yes we would. And life would be grand.

[MsPrufrock]

I only just started reading Anne Nahm and it's suddenly as if my life has meaning again. The Bloggess often has the same effect. I'm a bit of a whore for good humour, a fair dash of swearing, and randomness.

I shall add some of the others to my Reader, though I need more feeds like I need another bitchy, tantruming toddler. Which is to say, not at all.