the smell of my desperation has become a stench

When the Earth spins off its axis, you can safely blame me

“Jon, I have something to confess.”
“Okay. What’s up?”
“I’m so ashamed.”
“It’s okay. What happened?”
“You know the Interpol CD we’ve been listneing to in the car?”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
“What? What happened?”
“Well, I guess that when I burned the CD the songs were sorted by something other than track number.”
“NO. NO….”
“YES. I’m so sorry. We’ve been listening to the songs OUT OF ORDER.”
“Oh, God, Heather…”
“It’s not my fault, I just didn’t know.”
“How could you let this happen?”
“I just wasn’t paying attention when I burned the CD. I’m so sorry. I feel like I have killed Santa Claus or drowned the Easter Bunny. I’ve ruined the whole experience, for both of us.”
“You have to re-burn the CD!”
“I KNOW! The balance of the Universe depends on it!”

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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