Happy Fourth of July, blog-ettes. (Poor Freckles. She hates all the fireworks. Her tail is permanently stuck in the down position.) Today marks the third year anniversary of my infamous ruptured appendix. I’m sure the wife, Phalange-a-slam, T-Mulch and Emily the Folkie have some humorous memories of that long night. It’s a story that bears repeating, but since the majority have heard it thirty zillion times, I’ll spare you. I did find a photo of a ruptured appendix on Google, and I’m here to tell you—THIS is what my appendix looked like (photo on the right--tasty!). How do I know my appendix looked like this? Because I made the surgeon show me once I woke up from surgery. E-gads, it was gross. (The grosser, the better in my book.) I am a little nervous about this day, as I was on call for the Fourth of July at the time of my ruptured organ….I’m on-call again this Fourth. Pray for me….
…Speaking of being “free” (you know, a patriotic theme), Harvey’s funeral was today, so technically speaking, she is “free” of this world and of her oppressive body. I am happy to report I didn’t have to throw myself on the casket at any point during the services. I was ready to RIP out any rosary that might be in her hands, but since she wasn’t Catholic, no rosary was to be had, so all was good. Unfortunately, a babbling Baptist preacher rambled on about being in the “house of mourning,” reflecting and making decisions. I think he wanted us to throw ourselves in the Rock River for baptism at the end of the funeral. Remind me NEVER to be Baptist. My favorite part of the service was when we were standing at the gravesite and a cow was moo-ing in the pasture. I’m sure Harvey got a kick out of that. Made it harder to hear that pompous preacher, that’s for sure…
MJagger had a GREAT idea—she suggested that I have a “blog party” and invite everyone who has been mentioned in the blog. I thought that sounded really groovy and thus started digging through the archives to see who would be on the guest list. Besides, who doesn’t like reading about themselves again? There have been family & friends, clients and pets, stuffed animals and spirit guides, co-workers and TV stars, poop lovers and religious icons. Peruse the blog and you find a wild mix of people and critters.
Those mentioned in the blog who have passed on (most notably Harvey the one-boob-wonder, Cloudy the Hamster, all the mice killed by my mouse-surgeon-murdering-boss, the ex-father-in-law) probably will NOT attend the festivities, but they are certainly invited. Actually, I think I have a better chance at having the dead attend the bash than I have a chance of the super-famous-blog-noted types (like Jodie Foster, Madonna, Lucy Lawless, Jesus, Stacy Keibler, the stars of Charmed, the “Pardon the Interruption” guys on ESPN, the Dixie Chicks, Oprah, Reese Witherspoon, the “Little People”).
Grover, my spirit guide, may or may be considered dead but there is no doubt he will be in attendance. He never misses a party. On the other hand, the "mystery pooper" at work will not be invited because if I were to invite this person, it would no longer be a mystery...
Freckles and Lucy are very excited that Mr. Winkle will be on the guest list. Even if Mr. Winkle can’t make it, we know Riley the tree-climbing neighbor pointer will be there (albeit in the corner, peeing on herself—she’s really afraid of Freckles).
Are YOU on the list?
“The wife” gets top billing on the guest list, as she is probably the most mentioned person in the Addiverse, quite to her dismay….and, she’ll get stuck cleaning up after the party, so she best be at the top of the list. It goes without saying that Freckles Warrior Princess—the eldest canine of the family—and, Lucy Bark of Poteidaia—the younger canine of the family—will be waiting at the door for guests to arrive.
Since it was her idea for the party and because she is a friend extraordinaire (who just happens to have a stalker mentality about Madonna & still speaks to me when most people would exude expletives at me), MJagger (the professional seat-hopper at concerts) is also at the top of the list. MJagger’s eldest daughter (the 2nd coming of Jesus) & hubby Officer Friendly will accompany her and their youngest daughter. Bon Jovi—MJagger’s sister who has actually kissed Jon Bon Jovi on the lips (I’m not kidding) will keep the family affair going. MJagger’s mom-in-law deserves a nod, as she went to a Madonna concert with us. Anyone who is willing to drop some serious cash on Madonna needs to be honored.
We need some sports-types, so bring on the bowlers! Wild Mama and Father John (who made the Addiverse possible) will lead the bowling brigade. The sister, Nieces #1, #2 and #3 are mandatory attendees. (Hey, we could hold the party in a bowling alley! My mom and sister could hook us up with some moonlight bowling.) We can call in my brother-in-law, my cousin and my deceased grandpa. Heck, just bring anyone along who likes to bowl….I can always write about them later…
Speaking of family types, how could we party without the Cheeseheads from the wife’s family? Tommy Hilfiger, Mrs. Hilfiger, Cheesy potato sister, the wife’s dad and mom have to bring some Green Bay flavor for shits and giggles. Cheesy potato sister needs to bring some of her world famous cheesy potatoes for consumption during the blog bash or I’m not letting her in the door. There are a lot of other wife-types, but I haven’t written about them yet, so they have to wait their turn. Do you think Brett Favre is free to join the party? (Wait--we can't invite him or MJagger won't come to the shin-dig...)
Let’s see….I need to make sure cousins S&A (two of the world’s nicest people), Grover the spirit guide, Moriah the Medium, The Hedgehogs (god love those stuffed animals), Blue Eyes and Master Reiki and LLL participants are part of the fun. We’re talking everyone from Patty Party Pecs to phalange-a-slam, from Pee Pee Peeker to Ingabor Logjammer….Ms. UConn to Ms. Tennessee, Spotted Owl to Einsteina Vagina, from T-mulch (that's what I'm going to call her after helping us with all that damn mulch) to all those guests of the LLL. I can't forget the Lake Redstone Compound crew. So I look good for the festivities, I’m making sure my hair stylist is ready to go. I am NOT inviting the Hair Nazi—I’m true to my current hair goddess.
Clean queen, Emily the folk singer, HotDiggity (the anal gland-impaired dog), The Mouse-Surgeon Boss and my gynecologist are on the invitation list. On second thought, let’s NOT invited the mouse-surgeon boss and pretend we did. Do we really want a mouse murderer in our midst?
I need to invite the racoon that laid the killer poop that almost killed Lucy after she ate it (remember that from the very first blog?), the vet that saved Lucy's life, the dog groomer who has to try and grab the dogs to groom them and even the doctor who performed my colonoscopy.
I haven't forgotten those of you who read the blog but have yet to be mentioned. Your day is coming, Walshy-calm-submissive-family and the TV.
We can add the ex-husband, Stella the 72 year old Xanax addict, Mary the merry-go-round-riding smelly-crotch girl, Gert the smoking bra babe, Slim Jim Triathlon Friend, Tim Simms, Larry Morrissey, Governor Blago, Bob Ham and even Vicki Shaw. Actually, we can now invite my appendix surgeon, Uncle Sam and the babbling Baptist Preacher. Is this gonna be a hot party or what?
Your invitation will be in the mail.....until then, Happy Fourth...and hang on to your appendix.
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