You just know it's gonna be a good day when the fictional annoying child you have met and grown to detest over the past two or three weeks falls into an unsupervised, unfenced pool in the middle of the night.



It's been a while. Let's look into Mojo's bursting emailbag and see what falls out, huh? Oh, look, here's one entitled "Content Ideas You'd like". Maybe the rest of it will make up for not capitalizing the "L" in the title, since they capitalized everything else. Because really, what DOESN'T Mojo like? Except large parties, that is. We hates them.

Mojo's Open Letter

Dear Wanna-be Criminal, Politician, or Combination Thereof,

First off, congratulations on discovering your life's purpose. Many people just kind stumble like a zombie through this special gift we call life--and not the trendy, hip zombies of today, but the lame, stupid zombies of a bygone age. It's frankly refreshing to see someone with drive and initiative, even if all this newfound energy consists mostly of posting images on Facebook chock full of inspirational quotes gleaned from other, smarter people.

I'd like to talk to you briefly about this whole internet/web/computery thing that you don't quite get. Oh, sure, you THINK you get it. You've mastered your smartphone to the point where it can direct you to the nearest coffee shop or car repair facility. Yes, that's quite an accomplishment, and we're all so very proud of you. I thought I would spend a minute delving a little deeper into this whole technology thingie, just so your newfound, scripty-fonted-quote-over-a-sunset ambition isn't thwarted by Cruel Reality.

(Oh, hey, here's one; I think from Henry Ford: "Whether you think you can, or you think you can't... you're RIGHT.")

The Things Mojo Thinks About

Those of you who know Mojo personally--as opposed to those who merely worship her from afar--know that I am blessed (or cursed, depending on how I feel at the moment) with almost perfect total recall for music. To the point that I don't really listen to it all that much anymore, because I get a song in my head and it replicates, over and over, as an earworm that can last for DAYS.

I also come from Olde Fogeyville, which means I was originally introduced to music on LP records, which means the songs were played in a particular ORDER. Hence I cannot STAND listening to music when it is OUT OF ORDER. Radio is sheer torture to me, since I cannot control what is being played and they NEVER play it in the proper order. And forget the SHUFFLE setting on your MP3 player--that is just the WORST INVENTION EVER. The shuffle button, not the MP3 player itself. Is your iPod on shuffle? KILL ME NOW.

But my self-imposed exile from the world of music has not saved me, for I have literally HUNDREDS of full albums that I can sit and play in my head on command.

The Pale Blue Dot...

So I've been taping--or would that be DVRing? Whatever those pesky kids are calling it nowadays--i've been RECORDING the episodes of COSMOS: A SPACE TIME ODYSSEY every Sunday and watching them Monday nights when the Favorite Husband gets home from work. Because we are science nerds. The Favorite Husband is a (rather talented) engineer, and Mojo is a (rather pathetic) dilettante, and we both like Neil DeGrasse Tyson--and Carl Sagan, Back In The Day.

So, Ummmm.... This Happened...

It actually happened over a year ago, but we all know how Mojo likes to ponder and contemplate Meaning and Significance before releasing her carefully-considered thoughts to the universe. She thinks it makes her look way smarter than she actually is. Plus to be honest she’s just a lazy brute who doesn’t actually WORK at anything unless her hand is forced by the prospect of something even MORE boring.

So you could blame Mojo for this obnoxious foray into an animated rage comic complete with idiotic song.... or you could blame a year’s worth of rainy days that kept Mojo from skipping about outside, which she would much rather do than stay cooped up all day moving pictures around and dwelling on some of the, uh, interesting people she has encountered in life. Such as....Creepy Toll Booth Guy.


For those who may suspect Mojo is exaggerating a bit, as is her occasional wont for comic effect, I’m pretty sure my Favorite Older Sister, who was the driver and hence an even closer observer to this incident than Mojo, will testify in a court of law that this did in fact happen, in every grisly detail.


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