"Baby will you hold this Tether?"

Women, when we get involved with a man we need to be clear about our roles and expectations. What exactly are you willing to be accountable to in this relationship. Will you cook? Clean? What are the dos and don't of you sexual willingness? And most importantly...Will you tether the balloon?

That lady in Colorado, whose name I refuse to print, whose son will forever be known as Balloon Boy, (even though he was in the attic); whose storm-chasing husband did everything but stick a remote in his own butt when his flying saucer got away is really sad!!
Not because she turned her kids into media freaks, but because she allowed herself to pretend to be a giant silver balloon tether-er.
Tell me this lady had nothing better to do on a sunny day than take responsibility for the ropes holding her husbands inflatable UFO to the ground.
Ladies, when you marry a man you need to draw the line. I know we all make sacrifices like handing our bodies over to pregnancy, cooking meals we'd rather not eat, hosting football gatherings, agreeing to appear on a Wife Swapping shows...but a girl has to draw the line somewhere.
What wife doesn't know that sick feeling a woman gets in her stomach when her mans enjoyment of a lame and ridiculous hobby is ruined by her disinterest/clumsiness. Who among us has never accidentally dropped a screw-driver in a rad, scratched a motorcycle with our fashion footwear, served the wrong snack at half time or dropped the last beer. But come on!
When your husband the storm chaser builds a giant foil saucer, buys some helium, turns on a video camera its time to find some errands to run. Please don't be standing there with that "oh, tether...I thought you said feather" look on your face when the dumb thing takes off.

What Rhymes with Sacred?

Okay. You twisted my arm.
But to be honest, I have no time for a blog. Near as I can tell it's a self indulgent rant, those stupid things we think in our heads spilt out for the world (or at least the 5 people who stumble upon it). Some tit at a keyboard screaming "listen to me I'm clever", " I went to college". Well be forewarned; I didn't. And I'm a songwriter not a writer and more to the point if my drummer ever asks for his laptop back...well, smell ya later.
Besides, I'm a busy gal. If I'm busy writing a blog, who will sit around all day looking for a word to rhyme with "sacred"?
And while we're talking about it..."Blogging" really? sounds like a side effect of Paxil or something.
Nurse: "any headaches? cramping? rashes? bleeding? blogging?"

Blog is short for "weblog". I know that because I typed "what the helll is a blog" into google, and it answered my question AND it corrected my spelling- just like mom would! Magic. Makes me wonder why I keep other people around. I wish google had been there for me when I was married. I could have ran to the keyboard when whats-his-name came home from work and googled "how was your day?" and come up with something slightly more riveting than "Over!". He could have sat down everymorning a done a search of his own. "Do I have any clean socks?"

My worst real life Google moment; holding a margerine container under my face and typing "How do I stop a nose bleed?". I wish I could say I was relieved to find numerous message boards where people were asking the same question but it was kinda disturbing to think of all those scared desperate people bleeding on thier keyboards. That's alot of margerine containers!!