Do you think I could get them to write Happy Birthday Asshole on the cake?

Do you ever get so busy that you never have time to write? Or do you ever have so much to write that you dread sitting down to do it because there is just so much to put out there and you don't know if one blog can hold it all or even if your readers would want to hear it because it isn't all coated in a warm chocolaty layer of snark? Or are you just to damn addicted to Facebook to click over to blogger and bang out a post because there are virtual crops to harvest and high scores to beat in Bejeweled?

I leave it up to you to decide which one of those excuses will serve purpose enough for you my dear readers.

Although, I have to admit, Facebook has it's perks besides being a time wasting sucking vortex of unproductivity. I can whip out a sarcastic comment several times a day that has nothing to do with anything and I don't have to worry about weaving a blog post around it. Hell, I don't even have to worry so much about spelling and grammar and blogger's wonky spellcheck that thinks words like WONKY don't exist.

Excuse me a moment while I go on a booger excavating mission for my Punk. She comes to me with a flashlight and a hankie and expects me to work miracles.

OK. Back now. And thoroughly washed my hands up to my armpits. Can't be too careful with all that yuck floating around in the world today.

So the reason for the title of the post is because it was FCB's (That's Fat Cranky Bastard to any new people out there. Oh, and Punk is my 5 year old daughter. Soon to be 6 though.) birthday on Friday. We went to Disney. He got a cupcake from the Prime Time Cafe in Hollywood Studios. He came home and said he still needed a WHOLE CAKE to celebrate. Oink. I went to the bakery today and picked out the cake, and when the nice lady asked if I wanted anything written on it, I asked for "Happy Birthday Asshole!" She told me they aren't allowed to write swear words and besides, it wouldn't all fit on there anyway. So I asked if we could just skip the Happy Birthday. She wasn't amused. I then asked if I could hold the icing bag. She wouldn't let me do that either. Harumph. Evil bakery hoity toity stickler for the rules...

FCB has been on a roll lately with the assholiness of his attitude. Excuse me a moment again while we have yet another argument. OK. Done. Still think it should be legal to stab people with a spork and then tenderize them with an aluminum baseball bat (chink!) before feeding them to all the starving rabid wild animals that have lost their homes to deforestation.

Ahem. Where was I?

So life has been blogerific here. Lots to write about. Yet I haven't cranked out a post in a while. I figure one post this week alone will just be pictures of all the shit I have been taking pictures of and promising myself to put on the blog. Don't go all cardiac arrest on me dear followers, but I plan on posting more than once this week. I know. Shocking. Maybe even a little pshaw of disbelief. But it's true. Lots to get off my chesticular area, and what better place that this blog that I set up so long ago to do just that with.

This post was just a warning of posts to come. I actually have to cut it short because I am getting yelled at that there are people in this house that need to eat to survive (the nerve!) and it seems I am the only one that knows how to turn on the stove or open the refrigerator and actually remove the edible stuff inside. So farewell for now you lovely people that are actually still coming to read this blog and haven't given up on me. I really appreciate you. I should get you guys a cake or something.

I promise not to write and swear words on it when I do. (Well, at least not any legible ones.)