i see a child! now i’m blind! where did she go? oh no!

Hey hobos! Now you too can take a leak in the comfort and privacy of your own home!

So, happy belated Father’s Day, internet. I twittered yesterday that I was celebrating it because I’m your daddy, but I’ve given it some thought and I take that back, since you’ve stopped answering my “who’s your daddy?” calls (and accompanying slaps to the ass) now that we’ve incorporated the ball-gag into the mix.

Still, spending Father’s Day alone, looking at photos of a baby some friends had on Friday, gave me some time to reflect on my life, and how I really hope that, some day, I have someone to share holidays like this with.

I want to have a baby.

I want to have a baby in the worst way.

Up the butt.

I also spent the weekend setting up not one, not two, but three Topsy Turvy planters. It’s a vegetable wonderland!

Vegunderland.

I was excited about it and admit to getting a little carried away with the thought of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and jalapenos growing right in my backyard. But after I got everything set up, cracked open a beer and sat down for a second to admire my day’s accomplishment, I realized that I hadn’t thought things through and had a bit of a problem:

What’s the use of growing fresh tomatoes right outside my back door if I don’t have any Mexicans around to pick them?

That’s how they get you: the up-sale.

And finally, I couldn’t help but notice your lack of comments on my previous blog entry, Internet. At first I thought I might have offended you with my “ironing is women’s work” crack, but since we both know it really kind of is, I figured you were just too busy doing other woman things — like watching Oprah, or driving poorly, or sucking cock — so I forgive you.