People, you’re hurting my feelings. I’ve got an awesome giveaway going on down here, and it’s going nowhere fast. Out of 9 entrants, one even opted to not be put in the giveaway entrant mix.
Is it my 40ishness?
The 12 garlic cloves I ate for dinner last night?
The fact that I poke my poo with sticks?
What? What? What?!
***whispers*** Do you just not like me anymore?
Well, fine. Sticky pokey poo on you.
***hanging head*** I didn’t mean that.
K, how about this? I’ll stop talking about death and poo, and you enter to win my totally sooper (Thanks, Eden for the word) awesome music mix?
***crosses fingers behind back*** I promise not to put Barry Manilow on there.
Even if he is a musical genius.
***fake laughing*** I joke! Death to ’70s soft rock!
***looking skyward*** Just kidding, God. ’70s soft rock was one of your best inventions.
***running off to poke poo again*** ***and to lay alms on Barry Manilow altar.***