It’s true: I do not gargle donkey balls.

I’ll explain that in a minute, promise.

I had a mental-out yesterday and a whiny bitch-fest, and instead of telling me to suck it up I got some fantabulous comments: thank you. You guys are more awesome than unicorns and glitter.

(I had a neat pic here and realized it’s not MINE to share on a blog…must investigate).

I also got two violently positive drop-kicks to my impending depression. Knocked that fucker right back into his hole.

First, I discovered I’m on someone else’s blogroll. So what, you say? Well, being fairly easily excitable, I often squee in delight when this blog gets more than 100 views in a day (so far it’s happened twice, and Husband texts “yay” and probably rolls his eyes behind his phone but that’s ok: I know it’s silly). I think it’s ridiculously neat that I have a few regular readers (other than me, I mean).

In this case, it means a fucking HILARIOUS blogger reads my shit and likes it. (Seriously, go read her NOW. I’ll wait. Try not to snort whatever you’re drinking through your nose. I dare you.)

Every comment (good and bad, despite my rant yesterday) and every reader/follower matters to me. To find out someone is entertained enough to put me on her reading list is pretty fucking awesome.

To find that out almost immediately after seriously considering whether I should be writing a blog? That’s a killer sign to keep going, in my twisted brain. And for that I appreciate the moment.

And right after that, I received an email from one of my bestest peeps. You’ll see WHY she’s one of my best when you read said email below: (edited for squishiness, which I selfishly kept to myself in case I need a little “but you’re fucking awesome and this is why” ego boost again):

Some people suck. And some people gargle donkey balls professionally. Like as their job. I know they’re the worst and hard as shit to ignore (wow, this metaphor is falling apart fast) but just try to remember your better than them.

You don’t suck.

You don’t gargle donkey balls, neither professionally nor as a hobby. So far as I know.

You’re Jess. And that kicks ass.

I’m Cait and I approve this message. (trying desperately to make you laugh at this point.)

With friends who remind me that I’m not gargling donkey balls, how could I possibly stop writing?

PS: This morning’s list of “shit that happened” will be held for a future post, because I’m still laughing and wiping the coffee that just shot out my nose off my goddamn keyboard.

6 thoughts on “It’s true: I do not gargle donkey balls.

  1. Awww… You're on my reader. I get all sorts of excited when I see you have a new post. Except I usually get told by your husband (mind you gleefully he tells me) that you have a new post.I don't have the heart to tell him not to tell me about it because he really does get excited about them. So I can assure you, at least from what I see he does not eye roll when you send bloggy text squees.


  2. In other related commenting. How much do you suppose donkey ball gargling pays? One would hope that the benefits are incredible. Think of the smegma building within their counterpart.*shuddders*


  3. Don't be so quick to judge, in this economy a job is a job. That sounded much less sanctimonious and much more entertaining in my head. Try reading it with a thick southern accent? Not working?How about an English one? I'll keep working on it.


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