...about her foot.

A week or so ago (I am too lazy to peruse my litany of whiny complaints to determine the exact day) I was attempting to snowblow the driveway, which had a few inches of snow on top of probably three or four inches of sheer ice. So I fell, often. At least three times. I have since developed a beautiful blooming bruise on my left knee, which looks really impressive so long as you don't know that I bruise easily. And during one spectacular fall, at the very end of the driveway in the road, so that my neighbor might have actually seen it and been entertained by it should he had been looking out the window at the time, and I might have ultimately been hit by a passing car if one happened to pass by at the time (we only get maybe twenty cars passing us a day)...um, where was I? Oh, during that one fall I ended up holding onto the handles of the snowblower and having my feet slip forward in a comical cartoon sort of fashion, resulting in me totally BASHING the top of my right foot against the nasty metal of the snowblower. Luckily there are no moving parts, probably to keep idiots like Mojo from losing HER moving parts should she fall in an amusingly comical fashion, but I *DO* remember hurting my foot at the time.  MORE Mojo! »

Okay, so I'm driving around, trying to get into the Christmas spirit and wondering what I am going to blog about instead of my usual litany of complaints. And I decide today, being the last day before a week or so off, I would announce next year's project, which I have dubbed Mojo's Exciting Year of Crap.

This is how it's (hopefully) going to work, although some of the details are still a bit mushy in Mojo's fertile and creative brain. Once a month or so next year, Mojo is going to resurrect the Craptacular, bigger 'n' better than ever, to excite and entrance my many fans and to (incidentally of course) clear my house of some of the ensuing detritus that has accumulated since the LAST Craptacular.

The whole point of this next year's Craptacular--ooops, sorry, I mean, Mojo's Exciting Year of Crap (gotta get that branding started early, don'tcha know), is that all the money won in the various auctions will be going in an accumulating pot or kitty or whatever I shall call it--right now I'm sort of stuck on "The Vat o' Charity" but I don't think I like that so much. During the year I will be holding special secret contests and trivia games and hidden clues and whatnot, and YOU, the oh-so-excited Participant, shall work your way up through the ranks until the whole muddled mishmash is SOLVED and we all have some freakin' big celebration.  MORE Mojo! »

Mojo's Favorite Husband, to keep her on her toes, sometimes likes to relay a litany of stories of the various customers in his line of work who dearly love to try to get services and products for free. This usually involves bullying and lying and wheedling and all those other way attractive things. Mojo's Favorite Husband has a gazillion such stories, but usually after one or two Mojo has had enough and begs him to stop.  MORE Mojo! »

Yep, still sick. So what else is new.

One thing did make me smile this week. I was going through my litany of possible illnesses with my Favorite Younger Brother-in-Law (that sounds WAY too interactive; more like, he sat there patiently while I whined, only it was via email so to be honest I have no idea how he reacted, but from my end it was all, whine whine whine complain complain I'm so sick blah blah blah) and he came up with a possibility I had not thought of before. And it's such an OBSCURE reference I later thought to myself, why, this must truly separate the men from the boys! And it made me feel better.

Anyway, when I was whining about maybe having Lyme disease or Legionnaire's disease instead of just a nasty summer cold, my Favorite YBiL said, "Maybe you have Thripshaw's Disease." Which, as I said, made my jaw drop in wonderment and awe.

How totally perfect! Thripshaw's disease it is!

Mojo

A little while back I was stuck at one of those all day conference doohickies. I went by myself and didn't know anyone there. It was one of those pointless wastes of time that sounded good when you signed up, but within five minutes you are regretting ever hearing of it.

And of course there has to be that ONE PERSON who is determined to tailor everything to his or her specific needs. They keep holding up the proceedings with really dumb, basic questions and/or pointless anecdotes that do nothing to illuminate the issue being discussed but show with huge neon-glowing signs that this person is utterly incompetent in the professional arena in addition to their total lack of social skills. And everyone is being polite and smiling, instead of groaning and rolling their eyes whenever this person raised their hand, so you know you're in it for the long haul.  MORE Mojo! »

It's the latest Burger King ads. The "I'm a Guy" campaign, sung to Helen Reddy's "I am Woman". I think it's supposed to be funny. It's just dull, and borderline offensive--and not funny ha-ha offensive, just.... offensive, somehow. And to be honest, despite my constant never-ending litany of petty complaints I am actually a fairly laid-back person who does not offend easily. Unless something is really stupid, that is.

What's the deal with this trend behind this sudden appeal to macho idiocy, anyway? I can understand if it's a backlash for how men lately are depicted as stupid idiots in sitcoms, but this ain't helping your case, fellas. Even if it's meant to be ironic.  MORE Mojo! »