November 27, 2004

It Is Time For A Little Promotion

Yes. A little promotion, or a little plugging. (We have already discussed in past journal entries the shocking sexual connotations of the word plugging, so there is no need to repeat ourselves.)

I am writing this journal entry to inform those of you who are too dimwitted to have noticed my list of rather excellent links on the left hand side of the page. Yes, I know; I am rather hard on you all. It is because I love you. If I don't push you, you'll end up a failure.

JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER.

Pep talks aside:

Seriously. Check out Zoomtard. Why? Because I am married to him and he writes a damn good blog, albeit rare. Try to ignore the abundance of spam commentary he gets...honest, he's not trying to get you to look at midget pornography.

Also, for more exciting facts relating to ME (as we all know, I am the centre of the very universe), take a peek at the mental meanderings of my dear housemate M, also known as Captain Democracy. She's the one who saved us all from the evils of electronic voting this year. YOU CAN LEARN FROM HER, STUPID.

FURTHERMORE: see Adrian's account of a life on anti-depressants. Brand new, but bursting with drug fuelled-potential.

Moreover: check out Boards.ie's very own super nerd Mr. Angry for accounts of life in the imaginary fairyland of "Dundalk". I can't find no "Dundalk" on the internet, thank you very much.

The others, well, I've linked to them frequently before. But may I encourage you: STOP THE TUNNEL VISION AND BE A PART OF THE COMMUNITY. Look to the left and take a peek at all the wonderful entertainment just waiting to happen. Waiting frustratedly.

Frolic with child-hating embee, laugh gaily with Big Bunny, comment wryly on this bitter, bitter world with Anonymous, be frightened by Dave, and be intimidated by (and jealous of your husband's admiration for) the Queen of Blogs, Mimi Smartipants.

There's more, but I refuse to feed you life by coffeespoons: it's for the good of your SANITY.

After my shameful drink-fest, I am dehydrated and heart-burning like begorrah, so I believe it is time for a night of neuro-pampering. The ritual is as follows:

1) Clean bedroom to zen-master status. Super calm, candle-lit, no clutter. This includes changing the bed sheets. SMOOTH BED SHEETS OWN ME.

2) Have a long shower that is detrimental to the environment, involving lots of chemical beauty products and far too much water.

3) Slather self in all kinds of moisturisers and face masks.

4) Clamber into clean, ironed pyjamas. THEY SMELLS LIKE FLOWERS.

5) Hop into bed with tea and good book. Sleep like a baby.

Actually, screw sleeping like a baby. I minded a nine month old today for D and he wakes up every bloody fifteen minutes.

Sleep like I'm on strong sleeping tablets.

6) Dream of the return of K. 24 hours to go, whoo! And apparently he bought me boots in Newcastle - yay!

7) Awake early in the morning and lie to all of my friends at church about how I spent my Friday night at home doing crochet and cross-stitch (not drinking in a field by a palatial mansion with a strange man) because that is, after all, what all the other Christians were doing.

: )

Goodnight.

Posted by neuro-praxis on November 27, 2004 09:48 PM, in the category Bargain Bin