Captain My Captain

Morning Readers,

     And now, another night in the Kellerman household, another ancient battle in the struggle for power....

     Husband and I had just retired to the couch, when he considerately handed me a pillow. I grabbed it and settled in. "Thanks."

     He hugged me. "I'm always here for the assist."

     "Well, thanks again co-pilot."

     "Co-pilot?"

     I shrugged. "Yeah, you know, because you're the sidekick. Now hush, I finally have nothing to do, and I'm going to do it before it goes away."

As I Lay Dying: And Other Inconvenient Things

Morning Readers,

     As some of you may have noticed, I didn't post on Friday. Through the magical gift of airborne illness, I was presented with a vicious stomach flu late Thursday night. I just want to clear up what the rest of the neighborhood may have mistaken as Gary Busey wandering through my house at three a.m, shouting, "Make it stop, brother." Unable to leave my bed, Friday, I clung dearly to life, while Husband bravely held down the fort. And he did an excellent job...which is good because I was having a rough time...

     At about nine a.m., Husband peeked in. "How're you feeling?"

Gone Eating

 Morning Readers,

     Today I'm throwing on some spandex and getting ready for the festivities to ensue. Am I cooking? No. Am I in charge of the wine? I would be if I hadn't drank it already....kidding... sort of. To all my Readers, a happy Thanksgiving from all of us here at There's More Where That Came From. I'll see you all back here tomorrow. Same bat place. Same bat time...

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Shiner: A Black Eye Mystery

 Morning Readers,

     Several nights ago, I'd just finished eating candy and watching TV working really hard on my book, studying the dictionary, and making gift baskets for Hollywood ex-wives in need, when Husband came in to get ready for bed. As he laid out his GI Joe pajamas, I noticed his face - when you're used to looking at perfection, discrepancies stand out. I threw down all of my glitter pens and "You'll Make it, Kim" t-shirts. "Hold it right there. What happened to your face? You can't get me used to your god-like features and then just run your head into a wall."

     He laughed. "What are you talking about?"

You Scratch My Back....I'll Go Watch TV

Morning Readers,

     A few days ago, I felt the tension building in my shoulders. Usually, I just ignore it, but after I marched next door, pulled the neighbor's mailbox out of ground and threw it through their window, shouting, "Hulk smash neighborhood, without regard for personal property or insurance deductibles," I knew I had to do something. That night, I pointed to the knots in my shoulders and asked Husband if he'd help me out. He nodded. "Sure, but you have to rub my back, first." This doesn't sound so bad, if you don't know he's a dirty double-crosser...

     I stomped my foot. "I will not."

     "Why?"

Some Additional Questions

Morning Readers,

     Some of you may remember, back in May, things were rough. Convinced I was dying, I sent a desperate fax to heaven, submitting my application for sainthood. I didn't hear anything back, so I assumed everything was on the up and up, and things upstairs had been more or less settled in my favor. I was surprised then, to receive a fax, early this morning, somewhat to the contrary. After brushing the feathers off, the message stated clearly I needed to explain a few things before my application would be processed.

The Morning Rush

Morning Readers,

     Word on the street is you guys all wanted to know what I was doing yesterday morning. Don't  look at me, that's just what the street said. I can't blame you though. Complete strangers often stop me and demand I rate my mornings on a scale of awesome to bunions. I'll let you decide...

     7 am: The first attack comes by light of dawn. Busy making breakfast, I don't hear the creak of the highchairs as they slide into the kitchen. It isn't until I hear small feet running across the counter tops that I turn.

     "What are you doing?"

It's Not You, It's Me: A Breakup Letter To Oreos

My heart is broken and my pants don't fit...so I guess you could say I have broken pants as well.

 Morning Readers,

     I don't like hurting anyone's feelings, but there comes a time in every woman's life when she must put her foot down and say, "My pants don't button anymore. I need you to leave." For the past several weeks, I've enjoyed a fun-filled relationship with my old friend the Oreo. But, as good old Bobby Dylan always says, "The times, they are a-changin." Today, I write to my chocolate companion to gently let him know we will be going through a period of separation until I can get my zipper zipped, once more...

A Letter To Oreos

The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright-- And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night. - Lewis Carroll

Dear Oreos,

A Failure To Communicate

 Morning Readers,
     Lately, I've found myself at loss. Butch and Sundance are trying to communicate, and, because of this, I've had to turn to "Toddler Translations", the laminated companion to "The Toddler Guidebook", to get some insight into what the babies are trying to tell me. Here's just a few ways it's helped me out over the past few days. I've had to keep track via journal entries:

Notes
(excerpts from the journal of the oft-misunderstood and semi-attractive Paige Kellerman)

Fanmail Friday: More Unanswered Questions

Afternoon Readers,
     Last week I wrote a post attempting to answer all those questions you send me through your search engines. The positive response warmed my heart, and made me feel I'd done something for my fellow man besides forgetting to recycle everything besides my plastic bags. The only negative feedback I received was a lone message to my inbox:

Der Paige Kellerman,

It was so meen of yoo to right those things about me. Please stop telling everyone I can't rite good.

Sensordly,

Kim K.

I Mousse See You Right Away

Morning Readers,
    
     Although I've been remiss in not mentioning it on the blog, a few days ago, I got the news that a local paper will be running my first humor column later this month. Because of this, I now need a descent picture that won't seer my Readers faces off - My kind photographer friend called me, and kindly pointed out it wasn't standard practice to run a picture of a cat with a drawn-on mustache. After glancing at the unholy hamster brothel that is my hair, I decided it was time to call The Keeper of the Locks...

What Self-Control?

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday evening, I couldn't help but feel sorry for Husband. While he tried explaining the finer points of the football game, my eyes wandered.

     "So that's that."

     I looked up. "What? You can't train a gorilla to shoot a bow and arrow."

     "What?"

     "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Toddler Guide Book: Page 153 - Love Hurts

Morning Readers,
     Today's post may be a little short due to exhaustion. I was up all night reading the Toddler Guidebook, a sticky thing with pages missing, I received from the hospital. Normally, I don't have to refer to it, but it's been rough going lately. Besides the usual fun activities like slapping the dog awake and trying to drink the contents of the pepper shaker, Butch has been trying to express his affection for me. Formerly, the latter entailed licking a cookie and sticking to my pants, but my young man has graduated to what can only be described within the context of a prize fight. Allow me...

Unanswered Questions, Unrequited Thoughts

Afternoon Readers,
     I like to think I have the best Readers in the whole world, so it pains me when I see the search terms some of you are having to use to get here. Not because they're bad, but because I feel they're really questions you're trying to ask me, but can't get an answer to. Today, I'd like to address the top searches I received this week, and give you some closure. 

1.) "i smooshed a spider"

     Whoever you are, thank you. It gives me great satisfaction to know that, even though I haven't had the pleasure of killing any spiders lately, you, my masked friend, are out there doing what needs to be done. Remember, if you're going to "smoosh", use a shoe. If you're going to "smash", use an old copy of "O" magazine. Your bravery moves me.

The Secret Sisterhood of The Traveling Toilet Paper

"She will henceforth be known as Sister Charmin."

Afternoon Readers,

     They say that no man is an island, but nothing makes me feel more islandy than being stranded on the toilet. Several days ago, an unfortunate occurrence found me staring at the wall, feeling around the cabinet and bathtub for a lone roll that would be my deliverance. As I heard Butch and Sundance open the dishwasher downstairs, I knew the situation required urgency. If it hadn't been for the rogue paper towels I found, this post would be echoing from the john, my spirit never to return. I questioned why this had happened, until I remembered the Sisterhood...

Try, Try Again: A Letter To Kim Kardashian

Morning Readers,
     After Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson broke up, I vowed I'd never cry myself to sleep over a celebrity couple, ever again. I think I speak for everyone when I shake a fist at Hollywood and say, "How dare you mess with our lives and our hearts? When you bicker over who looks better in jeggings and giant sunglasses, do we not bleed? When you take eachother's miniature dachshunds, in the divorce, do we, the common people, not be-cry the very sun, "Why, Lord, why?" This time, Husband found me in the kitchen..

     "What are you doing?"