I’d recognize that circle of crunkness anywhere.

As my good, dear friend Cletis once said, it’s about street cred.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

My work is very important. Your argument is invalid.

Which is why I hereby pledge to create only 1 of these each week… featuring my boss. As for the rest of you, I make no promises.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

“Please hold, I am being extremely funny right now.”

When you tell your friend you need a hug and she sends you this, you keep her around. Because she’s totally worth it if she’ll Photoshop you into a hugging picture with Jason Segel.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

This is how the Welsh do cute, pony style. Just sayin.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Irish. Really, I love them. They’ve given great meaning to whiskey, body soap and religious conflict. But my people are Welsh. Corgi-lovin, folk-playin, taffy shepherds who can take a drink. And that ain’t no four-leaf clover.

Yeah, fine, I’ll partake in tomorrow’s Irish-American St. Patty’s traditions because it just so happens that green compliments my eyes, I enjoy soda bread and I never miss an opportunity to verbally accost coworkers about their color palette, get shit-housed during happy hour and conversation stalk every fratty assclown who thinks he can make Smith sound Irish. But on the inside I’ll be wearing my Welsh pride. Cause it’s like this:

• Catherine Zeta Jones: Spanish? Nope. Welsh. Look it up.
• You know how you can never tell whether Anthony Hopkins is supposed to sound English or Scottish? Yep. Trick of the Welsh.
• Why do so many women love Tom Jones? Well… Welsh.
• Laura Ashley: She invented floral because she’s Welsh.
• If you didn’t love Roald Dahl’s books you have no soul. Welsh.

I know you think you’d like to have the luck of the Irish tomorrow, but you’d be better off blessed with the iron sides of the Welsh.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

10. I live with a Norwegian so I can spell Lutefisk.
9. I like to make fun of Sandra Bullock, too.
8. I can wear the HELL out of a purple, nylon wind suit. And I did.
7. In the 80’s I was blonde.
6. I play flag football like her until I have a Snickers.
5. My anecdotes usually make people cry. From confusion.
4. I also want to host SNL.
3. I plan to be more popular at 88 than I am now.
2. I can find St. Olaf on a map.

And the number 1. reason Betty White should adopt me: She’s the funniest woman alive or dead. Suck on that, Rue McClanahan.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

*Note: If you know Betty White and would be willing to facilitate a meeting, you will be heavily rewarded for your generosity. In the afterlife.

This reminds me: If I don’t get that roommate some Cadbury creme eggs for Easter I might be moving out… after I get up from being chopped down at the knees for forgetting to gift her this seasonal treasure. [fist pump] Living situation saved!

Sincerely,

Sally B.

haygirlhay:

On fire about work stuff this morning but I’ll try to keep it light because no one likes a negative nelly. Here’s an embarrassingly low quality picture of the Cadbury bunny. It’s all I got right now.

1. Many doctors who have only negative, unfriendly things to say about how you manage your life. And by that I mean diet/ exercise/ alcohol intake.
2. Throwing your back out while scrubbing your fish bowl.
3. Having to clean the fish bowl again the next morning after the fish kicks the bucket overnight.
4. Rain, humidity, rain.
5. Flailing, sweating, flailing to get BandAids on the places where one of the evil doctors cut you while saying he was just making sure that all the times you fried your skin under the Florida sun, or in the human microwave tanning bed, didn’t give you skin cancer at 26.

If next week isn’t an improvement, I’m moving to Fiji.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

Cause that’s how I like to start my weekend.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

• I am sick and damn tired of you fools being uninformed.
• If you want to see a woman go straight bananas, try to make me eat a Brussel sprout. You’ll walk over, but you’re limping back.
• I am a pen hoarder. Like, go ahead and get A&E on the phone. [WARNING TO WOULD-BE LENDERS: If I like it, I’m taking it.]
• I’m vicious and I fight dirty. I once chucked an air hockey paddle at The Middle’s head after she beat me. I can’t help it that I’m strong. If she loved me, she would have thrown the game.
• When your grammar sucks, I’m judging you.
• On a road trip, if there’s a Starbucks at least 25 miles off the route, we’re stopping. I don’t give two shits if I’m still drinking the last one, I’m getting a damn latte.
• Apparently, I unconsciously point with my middle finger. Get over yourself. I’m not slyly flipping you off. Trust me, if I was going to tell you to fuck off, I’d just say, “Hey, dip shit. Go fuck yourself. And keep the change.”
• I have inappropriate responses to emotional social situations. While everyone else cries during The Notebook or Steel Magnolias, I burst into awkward guffaws. It becomes a problem at darkly lit fundraisers for cancer survivors.
• I will stab you in the face with a fork before I’ll watch a wolf chase a white bunny across the Alaskan tundra, but that starving kid on the Sigourney Weaver Feed Africa commercials won’t get my 9 cents a day to feed his 5 brothers. He’s 7. Time to be a man.
• I get into stage 5 altercations with my boss over celeb style/ fashion/ parenting/ addictions/ hygiene. Like, yelling, screaming bitch fits. It’s his own fault if he cries because says things like, “As if!” So he’s asking for it.
• If you hear Aretha Franklin or B.B. King at 4,000 decibels ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK because I’m working myself off a ledge somewhere in Bluesville.

Sincerely,

Sally B.

I am a good friend.

I probably had a case of the Monday’s, but then I took another look at this family portrait that hangs in the hallway of my friend Lisa’s parents’ house and I …BAHAHAHAHA!

Monday’s gone.

Sincerely,

Sally B.