“I Wish You Wouldn’t Blog About Political Stuff,” Yazoots Tells Me Earnestly.

by Little Miss Attila on November 29, 2008

“Well, what exactly is it that you want me to write about?” I enquire.

“Oh, your mother—stuff like that.”

“Um. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

I blush for a moment. “In a fit a pique, I bookmarked my blog on her Mac.”

“Oh, yeah. Smart move.”

“You have no idea how badly it cramped my style.”

“I think I have some inkling.”

I should color-code the entries, so that my political readers can read the political posts, and rest can read my autobiographical nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll start an alternate blog about how happy I am, and how I’ve kicked the orange juice habit for good, and wish to broadcast the anti-fruitjuice message to all who might care to read it—far and wide.

Actually, I have given up juice. For tonight, anyway. It’s Damrak martinis; shaken, not stirred.

Proud of me, Mom? I knew you would be.

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