Showing posts with label true confessions and other euphemisms for being dumb and lame. Show all posts

Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind Is Somewhat Autobiographical  

Posted by Heidi in


I got my “covers” in the mail the other day. One might wonder, or even ask, “What is a cover?” I’m right with you, babe. When people, as in authors with whom I commune, have mentioned “getting covers,” I assumed (a dangerous thing at best) that it was a cover of the cover. In short, a piece of art quality paper sporting the same image as my book cover. What I did not expect to receive was five dust jackets/book covers. What on earth am I to do with five purposeless book jackets? (Okay, I can frame one so that brings it down to four.) Meanwhile, I am a bit concerned my bookless jackets will develop some kind of complex. For this reason I shall refrain from such damaging phrases as “Hey, buddy, lazy much?” or “Get a job, already!” Perhaps it would be kinder to employ them in covering other books that are without their own jackets. Yet, I fret this could cause a serious identity crisis. What’s an author to do? This is not a rhetorical question people; I really need (to laugh at) your (humorous and clever) ideas as do some other owners of said bookless covers I know.

Another confession: I never mailed the lavander sachets made out of the antique baby dress with original scorch marks. And why is that? Because I haven’t made them. Yet. (Or ever.) And why is that? Because only my family members entered that particular contest and I know they will forgive me for neglecting to keep my promise. (Maybe.) But, hey, look at the bright side, oh-my-sisters-who-actually-read-my-blog, this also means that those mosaic stepping stones made of my broken pretties will never find their way to your homes, either. So, Mary, of Mary Had A Little Glob (isn’t she clever?) YES! You may have one, too. I will mail it to you when I mail theirs.

Lastly, (and this is the last time I’m going to mention it) I want you to know that each and every night The Spouse must rock me in his arms while I weep over matters too odious to mention. For this reason, I have moved the “follower” section down past the page fold so that I don’t have to look at it as often because The Spouse is starting to get worn out and tired and complaining about the knotted muscles in his arms and is threatening to post lies and innuendos on my blog that will chase everyone away in hopes that it will be the end of this blog (and the weeping and the rocking).
P.S. If you go to my sidebar (the really classy blogs now all have two sidebars) and scroll down to the little rectangle that is kind of yellow and green and red and features two weird creatures chasing a cat and reads: Humor Blogs, be a dear and click on it. When you get there, it will bring up my most recent posts. You can then rate these posts--in fact, you could probably go back quite a ways and rate the ones that you might most particularly like. This is a totally anonymous procedure, is easy and quite painless from what I have been told. Currently I am around 1,300 out of 1,300 blogs listed. To give you some perspective, Sue at Navel Gazing is somewhere in the 200's. So, give it a try--it could be fun!

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