When Mojo Gets Bored We All Suffer...

So a few months ago I was struck--not for the first time, but there seemed to be a cluster all at once--by the sheer VOLUME of various folks trying to stifle free speech on the internet through legal threats and whatnot. Which always makes Mojo sad. Not that anyone has ever threatened me (my vague impression of the process implies you have to actually *DO* something before legal action is taken), but just the whole legal threats and intimidation thing when you see something you don't like depresses Mojo to no end, no matter what side is doing the oppressing.

The whole fun of the internet is encountering people who (*gasp!*) might think differently than you. They are wrong, of course, but Mojo cheerfully maintains they still have the right to be wrong.

So to support these terribly, terribly wrong people, and perhaps assuage them enough to get them to stop filing all these silly nutjob lawsuits, Mojo has composed a gentle, empathetic song to help them express their feelings in a more constructive and wholesome fashion. Kinda like Mister Rogers, only with a bunny rabbit and no actual charm or intelligence behind it. You know, like MOST things Mojo does.

Here it is, in all its glory:


Once again, you're welcome.



More Mojo!>>

A Matter of Perspective....

Okay, so Mojo gets up early, in case you were not aware. Especially for the past ten years or so, I've been generally waking up somewhere between three and four, and actually hauling my carcass out of bed when I get tired of lying there staring at the ceiling, which is usually somewhere between four and five. And one of the first things I tend to do in the morning, unless I am particularly circling-the-drain ill, is I check my email, which has to be THE most pitiful thing EVER. I check email, I check FaceBook, I then check the daily comics I follow and the bloggers that I read. It is my goof-off time, and I enjoy it. I make my coffee-'n'-chocolate treat, I curl up on the couch, and I amuse myself on the internet for an hour or so, until the Favorite Husband gets up.

On weekdays he sometimes gets up before me, and since he has his morning routine I just sort of stay out of his way--just to be polite, not because he's any sort of morning grump or anything. Because we live in a rather elderly house, little things like water pressure is a tenuous thing, so if I'm making my morning treat I am usually thoughtful enough not to run the water for the kettle or for the animal's water bowl while he's in the shower. That sort of thing.

So anyway, I am usually up and bopping around and disgustingly perky at an hour that most people would consider torture to face while conscious. More Mojo!>>

Mojo's Woes

Not that Mojo's complaining again (good lord, does she do anything BUT complain?) but while Mojo lives her charmed, happy life every once in a while the Fates throw her a minor trial just to keep her on her toes. More Mojo!>>

On Why You Should Never Get Mojo Mad At You.

Why, you ask? Because Mojo is able to channel all the awesome power of the Universe and cause Karma to bite you in the most sensitive of places, THAT's why!

One of Mojo's peculiar little quirks is, there are some towns she does not like to drive through. As in, most of 'em. So often when she goes home she will take an oddly roundabout route, to improve her ratio of trees to buildings along her drive--meaning, the more trees and less buildings, the better. More Mojo!>>

Mojo's Spot

So many sad, angry people ask me: Why, Mojo, how do you ever maintain your saintlike equanimity when faced with this vale of tears I call life? To which Mojo replies, Simple. I go to my spot. For just as Pooh--a Bear With Very Little Brain--had his Thinking Spot, so Mojo--a woman with very little else to recommend her--has her Spot, safely far enough away from polite society to render her fairly harmless and easy to ignore. More Mojo!>>

IN WHICH Mojo Spreads Rumors, Even Knowing They're Probably False!

So as I have stated a few times now, Problem Bear is dead and gone, but his memory lingers on in the form of rumors and innuendo regarding his demise and how said demise was found out by the Authorities. And Saturday I heard a rumor which sounds like such a FUN rumor, even though I'm fairly certain it's not true. It's still mildly entertaining enough to repeat here, even if I then rip it to shreds and show you how it very probably couldn't have happened in the way it was reported. More Mojo!>>

IN WHICH Mojo Begs Your Indulgence

Okay, so you can just SEE how kind and indulgent Mojo's Favorite Husband is by the following. On Saturday we were entertained by Mojo's Favorite Father, who was a quilt widower since my Favorite Mother was off gallivanting somewhere doing one of her quilt thingies. He fed us WAY too much food, incidentally. Including chocolate cake, since he figured his Favorite Middle-Aged Daughter Mojo would like it. (She did.) More Mojo!>>

Ode to a Mud Hole

So one of the ways to get from Mojo's house back to civilization--you know, the place where people wear clothes and shoes--takes you along a road that parallels a small stream that is the home of numerous historical beaver ponds and dams in various stages of disrepair. I don't think there are currently any beavers along the stream--all the ones I have seen have been down at the lake--but every quarter mile or so there is (are?) the remnants of a beaver dam--usually a swampy meadow, some still full of dead trees, etc. More Mojo!>>

Mojo's Ten-Dollar Miracle Pants!

So yesterday I am sort of perusing the ol' finances, given the very recent announcement that my Favorite Husband's work is cutting his check yet again, resulting in what amounts to a combined 25% pay cut, which is not catastrophic yet but it DOES gives one pause, especially when one rather likes sushi. And thinking to oneself, okay, so if we don't cut back and continue enjoying our present lifestyle we have about a year or so before things seriously catch up to you. More Mojo!>>


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