the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Penisary Contact With the Volvo

Today’s post has nothing to do with that title, it’s just I can’t get that phrase out of my head. Sometimes it’s the word “avuncular” or “gesticulatory” or “bukkake Asian facial.” Last week I couldn’t stop singing The Osmond’s “Pine Cones And Holly Berries” from The Osmond Family Christmas.

But the Osmonds have nothing to do with today’s post either, although who wouldn’t love a hot expletive-laden Osmond blog entry?

I’m going to have “hot expletive-laden Osmond” stuck in my head all day.

Today’s post is about my friend Kathy and how it came to pass that I, Dooce, am driving this car in this exact color:

I’ve written things on this website before, things that have really gotten me into lots of trouble with real people in my life, as opposed to internet people in my life. Like, friends have read things here and been reality-mad at me, not just internet-mad at me, and I’m here to testify that reality-mad is a lot worse than internet-mad.

Reality-mad can cost you your job, for instance, or cause your father to refer to you as “a vile and disgusting creature.”

And even though I know these things, that this website had caused oodles of reality-madness, that people I know in reality know about this website and read it and wait for the moment that they recognize themselves in a character on this page, that they have said to me with pained trepidation, Heather, please, for the love of God, don’t write about this on your website-thing, I have to comment on this. God wants me to comment on this.

And as I’m sitting here writing this I realize that I can’t comment on this and that maybe the reason I’ve got all this “penisary contact with the volvo” jibberish in my head is because my body is going into automatic self-preservation mode because it knows that the last thing I need right now is more reality-madness.

What do you have stuck in your head?

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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