You can put Newsstand in a folder.
You can put Newsstand in a folder.
Although it probably wouldn’t work because I’m already married and eMusic is website. I don’t think Bob will give me a divorce just so I can marry eMusic. Can I marry a website? Because right now, I totally want to marry eMusic.
When The Artist Formerly Known As Chemo Boy (whom I now have a symbol for, check it out):
(although, I made it myself. So, I’m not sure if it means No More Chemo or No More Toxic Waste Dumps.)
anyway, when he got The Cancer, and I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate by dropping our external hard drive (with all of our backup data) on the floor, killing it dead, I never got around to re-downloading all of my tunes from eMusic. In fact, I put my account on hold (because they are so nice they actually let you do that) and just plain forgot about the whole damn thing until this week when I got an email from those lovely folks at eMusic reminding me that they were reactivating my account.
I’m sure it’s because they sensed my need for music, not because they wanted to go back to collecting my monthly fee. They strike me as a generous people. A generous people with good taste.
In addition to downloading the bazillion trillion million (An official number. I know because I was gifted for a brief period in early elementary school before I became too dumb and they kicked me out.) songs I had lost in the hard drive floor drop of ‘09, I also discovered some New To Me tunes.
If you’ll all just quiet the fuck down, I’ll tell you what I got. I said shush up. I’m still waiting. Hey, I’ve got all the time in the world over here. As soon as Johnny pipes down…well, alrighty then.
The Dodos – 3 Individual Tracks from Time to Die: Longform, Troll Nacht, Acorn Factory
Mitch Hedberg – Mitch Alltogether
Truthfully, Mitch should have already been in my downloaded music. He should have been spending his nights spooning Stephen Lynch in the comedy section of my iTunes library. Alas, he was not. Poor Stephen’s been lying there bare-assed and cold. (I reverse-alphabetize the comedy section for spooning purposes.)
To do penance, I’ll spend the evening listening to Mitch with my son. I’m sure it’s totally age-appropriate. Hell, we’re homeschoolers. It’ll be an interdisciplinary course – history of comedy and drug education. Throw in some Salvadoran takeout for dinner, and we can make it a multicultural event. Don’t judge until you’ve walked to the minivan in my flip flops.
Great. Now I’m craving pupusas, and it’s all your fault for making me turn this into a learning experience for my kid. The things I do for you people.
Y'all have to trust me on this one because I apparently have some savant-like skills in this arena that had gone untapped until just this past week. I am here to share what I have learned in order to help you avoid a similar situation.
Learn from my mistakes, kids. Once you read this, you will see how easy it is to achieve (or avoid) alienation of your husband's (or wife's) family members.
Here’s a Pro Tip folks: If you have an issue with something I write, contact me directly. If you don’t want to leave a comment using your email address, then email me directly or call me (even though I’d rather gouge my eyes out than talk on the phone, I’ll do it for you because I love you). If you’re a family member, you obviously have my number. In case you’ve misplaced my email address, my contact information is located at the top of the blog.
I am the author of this blog, not my husband. The views expressed here are my own. He doesn’t have time to write this silly stuff because he actually sleeps at night. In fact, that’s what he’s doing right now. The big show off. Anyway, I’m serious. If you’re worried about me, don’t like what I’ve said, think my butt looks big, or want my dog to go on a diet, contact ME. Preferably by email, because I really, really, really hate the phone, but like I said, I’ll do it for you But only for you. No, not for you. Just you.
Now can we all just sing Kumbaya and get on with the week because my daddy's home from the hospital, and that's an absolute fucking miracle. I don't care what deity you do or do not bow down to. Amen and sliced mayonnaise!