Good morning/afternoon/evening/whatever the fuck time zone you are in readers and welcome to the first installment of WTF?  A new series dedicated to the bizarre and often strange happenings of not only the universe pissing its inane sense of humor on all of us unfortunate beings, but the strange reaction we beings seem to have to this pissing match.  Let the urinating begin!

-I don’t know what the strange orange crap is that appeared on my keyboard today, but I’m hoping it will kindly disappear from whence it came. Apparently the disinfectant wipes don’t fucking work on orange crap.  Awesome.  Thank you.

-My daughter is reading Macbeth in English class…she is not impressed so I decided to text her a quote.  I think I’ll text  a whole soliloquy later just so she can be astounded and amazed by my awesomeness.  That’s how it works, right?  Quoting Shakespeare to your seventeen year old daughter?  Yeah, I’m so cool right now.

– The rattling noise in my car is still there.  I’ve wisely decided that it is intent on producing such harmonious sounds so as to extract a venomous reaction from yours truly.  I’m choosing the Penny solution.  I know it’s there, I’m hoping it will go away.  I’ll just ignore it until it falls dead on the road or it silently fades into oblivion.  There.  Problem solved.  The League of Nations should be calling me soon to solve the world peace issue.  I’ll just wait here patiently by the phone.

-Stuffing money down your bra when you’re hammered at the poker table and think you’ve just won a million dollars by beating every sober person around you, counts in real time poker too.  Where’s Bestie’s bracelet?  Vegas baby!!!

-My explanation for the downfall of my previous blog has hit all new heights since everybody now thinks I’m dead.  They think my old blog has been imploded due to my untimely and grisly demise.  Death by blogging.  A truly horrific event.  I think there’s a dedicated Facebook page in my memory.  Please sign and let me know you care…or cared…or… yeah.  I expect awesome eulogies, and sentimental anecdotes.  Father Leslie is not invited…nor should he be notified.  He might say something like “her math was terrible, but what a good housewife she was.”  Is it blasphemy to swear at a priest?   Hmmm….Should I care about that if I’m dead?  OH!  Don’t forget the bringing of flowers.  Lots o’pretty  flowers….awww….

-In other news totally unrelated to anything news-worthy or logical, a Dutch airline is holding an investigation into an alleged copilot allegedly sleeping while allegedly operating a plane.  The pilot was out of the cockpit taking a …well, leak…bathroom break…draining the main vein.  You get my drift.  He tried to get back into the cockpit but was locked out.  Seems co-pilot was too sleepy to let him back in. It’s all quite speculative right now.  I think if the co-pilot fell asleep, he no longer qualifies as ‘operating’ the plane…that means while the pilot was out relieving himself and the co-pilot was snoozing in dreamy-dreamland, then logically…THERE WAS NOBODY FLYING THE DAMNED PLANE!!  Where’s Samuel L. Jackson when you need him?  Ugh.  So, congrats to the Dutch airline for broadcasting this tiny flaw in the airline biz and the balls to come out and say that co-pilots pretty much do squat.  Awesome.  I think my next career is set.  Co-pilot for the Dutch airlines.  Do I have to speak Dutch?  Hmm….Oh, right.  I’m dead already, so I can speak whatever language I choose!  I choose the illustrious language of pig latin.  Iway ockray.