Gone. Gone. Gone.

I just finished writing an entire blog, full of fantasy football babbling, profound thoughts on the California law prohibiting reparative therapy for gays and angst-filled whining about the last remaining box of ultra O.B. tampons.....and, when I went to publish it, I pushed some wrong button(s) and poof....it was gone.  I thought it to be some freak issue, so I took a gander at what I had been saving along the way--I've learned to save as I go, having lost one too many documents or papers--everything was blank.  How this is possible, I do not know.  I tried just about everything to get it back but it was not to be.  So, all that work, all those deliciously described stories, all the facts and figures, all that taunting of persons in the football pools and those viewing Honey Boo boo--gone without effort, despite being saved along the way.

Gone, gone, gone. The baby Jesus was nowhere to be found at a time in which I needed to be saved.  Sigh. I thought I had been saved.

Honestly, I'm too tired and too defeated to re-write the dang thing, which is too bad because I thought I was pretty witty and entertaining along the way.  When I broke a nail while banging on the keys trying to retreive the now-lost blog, I took it as a sign from the blogging gods that I should surrender and turn my eye to Monday Night Football and DWTS instead of recreating what I had originally birthed.

I leave you instead with this illustration from my book de la face page, which is credited to jokobo.  It fits my theme of "the last purple box of O.B. tampons has been opened" angst. It does nothing to much of anything except my love of tampons.

What's not to love about Tampons, anyways?