I. Kid. You. Not.

You will have to excuse my absence from the virtual world. It seems as though I over-dosed on MJM (Michael Jackson Media). You too? weird. Finally out of that coma, 'thankfullest'.

In other news:
I am peeved at Pregnant women everywhere this week. (the one's I know, and the one's I virtually know)

I. Kid. You. Not.











Most of the time I show signs of empathy for these people; I even use my handy dandy self-written:
"Guide To Act Like You're Showing Empathy, When You Really Couldn't Give A **** For A Pregnant Woman." handbook. I nod, raise my brows in a caring manner, and insert, "How horrible for you."'s and "Wow, no other woman has gone through this ever."'s and even "Yours if by far the worst and most different that I have ever heard of, it is a wonder you're still alive."'s.

I don't know why I am an open target for "'Exorcist' type morning sickness" stories, or "my husband is the biggest 'Spencer Pratt' in the world" stories. I just don't.

AND IF this wasn't bad enough. I stumbled upon a whole blog site dedicated to pregnancy+birthing stories recently. WTF?

What makes this okay? Can we find nothing else to 'bond' over? Must we share our 'poopings' on the birthing table?'s or complain about how our once in-tact 'hoohah's now rival the Grand Canyon?

Honestly! Some of these stories make reading Playboy seem like a Pope Cartoon Strip in the Sunday Funnies.

My Gyno and I could have Thursday Night Strip Poker every month (stirrups and all) and I wouldn't feel as awkward as I do reading/hearing these stories.

So you women Congratulations. You have proved that Pregnancy is not a beautiful thing. And for those of us whose 'hoohas' are still intact, you have scared the hell out of us from ever even THINKING about plopping out a 14lb turd, and then later it's feces sack of placenta. EVER!

I hope your 14lb turds never accidentally stumble upon these stories. You queezy sickos.

Stay Ugly,