Bloggers Gone (Mildly) Wild

I’ve been lucky to have met several bloggers over the years. As lovely as all of them turned out to be, I admit that I had my doubts.

What if they’re really ax murderers?
What if they think I’m totally uncool?
What if I end up wearing a fake mustache, plaid earmuffs, and yellow yarn on my head in public?

Preparing to blow the hipster restaurant crowd away with our epic dorkiness.
Preparing to blow Portland away with our epic dorkiness.

Ayuh, that’s right. I met up with Jules from Go Jules Go AND Peg from
Peg-o-leg’s Ramblings! I know!! INSANE!! I was delirious from the pure excitement and adrenaline. Or maybe that was because I pounded down a Blueberry Ale in ten seconds.

The Three Amigos: Three Blondes Make Everything Right
Three Wrong Blondes Make Everything Right

The best part was we didn’t even really plan (much) for this to happen — it was like fate, destiny, or pure coincidence. Jules is from New Jersey and just happened to be up here in Maine for Labor Day weekend. Peg is from Illinois and she and her family just happened to be up here in Maine for Labor Day weekend. And it was my birthday! I’m 29 for the 18th time. What a gift it was to chill with some bloggy peeps!!!!! (extra exclamation points absolutely justified)

After bribing Peg’s visiting family with lobster rolls, they graciously allowed me to hobnob with WordPress celebs Peg and Jules (and her adorable dog) on the Portland waterfront.


Chillin’ with Uncle Jesse.

I tell you I have never been so giddy. Peg is exactly like you’d imagine from her blog times 100. She’s beautiful, bubbly, and hilarious. I’ve already met with Jules a few times, so it goes without saying she’s gorgeous, witty and totally rocks. The three of us had lunch, gabbed about stupid blog stuff, and played with vibrating lobsters

What? The restaurant handed them out to us so we’d know when our lunch was ready! Sheesh!

Hello, Portland Press Herald? Breaking news — Darla, a born-n-raised Mainah, actually hates lobster.

I’d love to end this post by bragging about how after lunch we jetted off to party on a rented lobster boat while we toured lighthouses and Stephen King’s estate, but that’ll have to wait until next year.


Bonus footage: Jim Gaffigan tells you exactly why I don’t like “lobstah”

Have you ever met a blogger in real life? Did you get as nervous as I did? Did you also make a complete fool of yourself in public? (Not hard for me to do…) Do tell!

blogger of the month

Firsts and Lasts with Pegoleg


Sometimes you meet someone on WordPress and things immediately connect in a mystical way. You simply ‘get’ that person in ways you can’t quite explain and a strong friendship is formed.

Peg from the spectacularly entertaining blog, Peg-o-leg’s Ramblings, is one of those people I am blessed to have met in my bloggy world.

What was it about her? Maybe it was her gravatar that screamed: Yeah, so what? I’m whimsical and cool, and I like to chill on playground equipment — deal with it.

Or perhaps it was when we first traded barbs in our many epic captioning battles over at
The Good Greatsby’s contests (which he has since sadly retired and I still haven’t forgiven him yet).

But mainly, it’s her personality that shines through her stellar writing: she’s warm, welcoming, witty and I’m big time jealous of her in ways I won’t go into here.  And she’s the Queen of Microsoft’s Paint program. Check out this Pegcasso masterpiece:
Climbing the WordPress Reader.

She’s also a WordPress Recommended Humor Blogger, and has been Freshly Pressed so many fricking times (5 or 6, I lost count),  she had to go and create her own Freshly Pegged award–no doubt the highest blogging honor.


Now that my gushing’s out of the way, (I love you, Peg!) let’s dig deep into her personal life for our own shallow entertainment! Yeah! I’m sure she won’t mind.

Please, give a warm welcome to my June Blogger of the Month:


Continue reading “Firsts and Lasts with Pegoleg”

Humor · Uncategorized

The One About Sex That Should Have Been Freshly Pressed

Hey, gang!

I know you all love some good blogging tips. Here’s one:

Just put the words SEX and FRESHLY PRESSED in the title, sit back and watch the stats soar!

Sure, you might attract the wrong kind of hits, but such is life in this crazy mixed-up bloggy shizz-bizz we all groove in, ya dig? (I have no idea what I just said.)

All of this sexy and Freshly Pressed excitement is due to one person; a certain Wordsmith/Bloggess Extraordinaire over at one of the funniest blogs on WordPress:
Peg-o-leg’s Ramblings. She is so good at the writing craft, (her own blog Freshly Pressed more times than I can count) I’m busting out semicolons to impress her; I don’t think I’m succeeding.

Peg is currently running a brilliant guest blogger series, a spin-off on Freshly Pressed, called THIS One Should Have Been Freshly Pressed. It spotlights those posts some of us thought were blog gold the FP Gods would smile down on–only to be cruelly ignored by the O Mighty Smiters of WordPress. Well, you guys can smote me no more, my post is now featured as Freshly Pegged!


My post was all about sex. Yeah, I actually wrote about my own personal, sometimes pathetic, always hilarious sexual experiences.  I know. Why it wasn’t Freshly Pressed, I’ve no idea. (I suspect my husband bribed them.)

So click here —-> on Peg’s Freshly Pegged–She’s A Maineiac post and read “A Brief History of Sex (According to Me)” and leave a comment.Please, keep it PG-13 tops. Thanks!  And I do believe I’ve broken a world record for mentioning the words Freshly Pressed the most times in one post.

Humor · Uncategorized

The Monkey Strikes Back

My life had been pretty dreary lately. Things seemed devoid of all joy. The spark had completely gone out of my days.

Then I woke up one morning and Bam! It dawned on me– this empty feeling was because I haven’t won The Good Greatsby’s caption contest in ages! Sure, I’ve been a finalist. But I’ve always lost, coming in dead last.

Wallowing in self-pity, I was minutes away from jumping off the little ladder in my kiddie pool, willing to submerge myself in the chlorine/urine Flavor-Ice wrapper infested waters to drown my sorrows when I came upon this week’s contest.

I was in the finals again, baby!

But my elation turned to seething anger once I realized that yet again, my archenemy (and also one of my bestest blogging buddies when we’re not battling over captions) Pegnacious and her power-hungry followers, The Peglomaniacs, are on a mission to destroy me and my caption contest dreams. Which is exactly what happened last time, if you recall. (If you don’t recall, click on this here link.)

All hope seemed lost. Until today when I heard a faint knock on my front door. Followed by some high-pitched screeching and the sounds of a hungry animal devouring the bowl full of skittles and circus peanuts I had left out the night before. I threw open my door, and when our eyes met, a wave of emotion washed over me.

It was him! He had come back to me!!

Oh! I love you, Mr. Skittles! I am sorry I abandoned you! You sweet cheeky lil’ buggah!

All was forgiven. Or so I thought. I gave him a hug. He threw a feces-filled diaper in my face. But I understood. I had that coming.

After I refilled his Skittles bowl, we sat down to begin plotting our Evil Plan to Reign Caption Contest Supreme once again.

First order of business: Put a fresh diaper on him.
Second: I instructed him to immediately get on the laptop to vote for me.

He didn’t. He voted for Laura instead.

So currently, my caption is losing by a mile. Maybe because the other captions are better. Mr. Skittles seems to think so.

But with your help, yes…all of you out there reading this and scratching your heads wondering things like, what the hell is she talking about? Who is Mr. Skittles? Why does he wear a diaper? Well, that’s neither here nor there…but with your help, if we all band together we could make a comeback.  Please, click here on this link. Then click on the caption you like best. No pressure. Just so you know, I will be keeping track of who is voting for which caption, so please be aware that there may be some free Skittles OR a dirty monkey diaper in your near future. You make the call.

Thank you.

Mr. Skittles would now like to say something to all of you. I will translate as I am very fluent in monkey.

[Mr. Skittles screeching, banging fists on head, rapidly jumping up and down, running in circles]

Me likey circus peanuts!

[Mr. Skittles scratching his head, picking off a bug, eating it, jumping onto my head, screeching at the top of his lungs and banging his fists in my face]

Me think crazy lady must change diaper again!  

Oh, haha! Aren’t you a little excited! Why thank you, Mr. Skittles! Very moving speech, indeed.

Now go and vote for the best caption. Only the best one. I know mine’s nowhere near the best. And I know we are so far behind in the poll now that all we will succeed in doing is giving Pegoleg a little scare. That’s okay. So just vote for the one you like. Mr. Skittles and I will forgive you.

I hope.

P.S. I would like to take this moment to let you all know I have some big news. As you may know, Mr. Skittles was gone for a long time, out traveling the world, sowing his wild oats and well….he is now a father. That’s right. He’s a dad. A proud papa of an adorable little bundle of joy that is currently starving, trapped in a cage, and missing his daddy back home. Don’t let this sway your vote in any way. Just thought I’d let you know.

Dada?….Please win the caption contest! I’m hungry…so very hungry…please, daddy, please come home!
Humor · Uncategorized

World Premiere Plaid Video Featuring The Jacket

This video has everything. Plaid. Lots and lots of plaid. Also the Jacket Peg-o-leg generously donated. Plus–Adorable dogs! A cat! Old ladies! Breakdancing! Baton twirling! And a song that will be stuck in your head for days! (sorry, my kids picked it, not me)

Warning: Not recommended viewing for those suffering from motion sickness, migraines or for people who don’t like plaid


Oh, a few more things–just to head off some of the comments–yes, there is a table with a puzzle on it in the background. Yes, there are some giant Shaquille O’Neal-sized sneakers in the hallway (they aren’t mine!) It may surprise you all to know I don’t have a secret studio in my house in which to film my oscar-worthy vlogs and videos. So my house is a mess. There is stuff in the background. And no, I didn’t film myself in the jacket twirling the baton because as you can see my son wore it and it fit him perfectly. He’s only nine years old! (and I do plan on using this video as future blackmail for him when he starts dating) I truly didn’t want to embarrass myself any more than my last vlog (don’t think that’s possible but you never know) But that IS me twirling the baton, I swear. I could only fit my arm in the jacket. I’m not ashamed. It was all those damn peanut butter cups last week. I will never eat another one as long as I live now.


Song, Tik Tok by Kei$ha
Movie clip, Spaceballs, 1987, (best movie ever made) John Candy and Bill Pullman


My Adventures in Plaid, Part 1

I received the coveted The Jacket Writing Contest Award from Peg-o-leg yesterday afternoon. I was already late picking the kids up from school so I threw the box into my car and drove like a madwoman down the road (about three miles over the speed limit).

I parked and examined the box. It was very small–so small, I couldn’t believe the jacket was in there.  What if it wasn’t? What if instead there was only a ransom note and I’d be forced to pay some large sum of money or the jacket gets it? I couldn’t wait to get home, so I tore the box open with my car keys and narrowly took off a thumb. I examined the plaid treasure and immediately smelled something strange. I had a flashback of me as a child in my grandmother’s attic, trying on her dusty old fox stole and daring my younger brother to eat a mothball.*

I noticed right away the jacket was indeed a show-stopper. The green, red and yellow stripes were so bright, I immediately got a migraine. The kind with the zigzag colored aura that looked remarkably like Peg’s jacket.

Still I was in love with it and all its funkiness. Funky in every sense of the word. I raced home to try it on. Then I turned around because I had forgotten to pick up the kids. So after I raced home again with kids in tow, I tried to try it on. Tried. I got one arm in and then—ugh…I couldn’t….quite….ugh….reach…. the other…arm. Why? Because apparently Peg neglected to mention the jacket was designed for a monkey. A tiny monkey. Size 8, according to the little microscopic tag. I don’t think I’ve been a size 8 since 1980.

After my daughter helped me wrestle it on (and I sucked in my gut and everything else), I buttoned it up and admired myself in the mirror. My son said, “Mom, why are you wearing that?” and walked off. My daughter looked at me, crinkled her nose and said, “Mommy, I was gonna try it on…but naw, you can have it, it’s okay.”

Here it is in all its glory. Who says stripes don’t go with plaid? You? Fine. Anyway, it looked snazzy enough, but I had to adjust the color a bit so I wouldn’t get another migraine…

Ahhh…there. Much…better? The little dark shadows in the corners really punch this picture up a notch. No? Fine.

So I’d like to take a moment to say, thank you Peg, thank you voters, thank you other nominees. I am truly honored to be wearing this jacket. I also want to thank (tearing up) God (sniffing and looking up at the ceiling with my hand on my heart) because I know that without His/Her help, (deep sigh) this award wouldn’t be possible (kissing two fingers and holding them up to the sky with a solemn look)

Next up: A vlog of me baton-twirling in the jacket (Be warned, there may be some splitting of fabric, picture the Hulk when he gets angry)

*I’m kidding, Peg. It doesn’t smell like mothballs or my grandmother. It smells like 1967– incense and peppermints with a little wacky weed thrown in. I love it (I do) and thank you. It’s giving me a goal of losing another 15 pounds so I can wear it and breathe at the same time.

Bad Poetry in 100 Words or Less · Humor

I’m Gonna Party Like It’s One Shy of 100

Go on! Fly away, little blog posts! I'll miss you all!

Today is a monumental day for me.

This is my 99th post.

I have been blogging almost 2 years. So I’ve achieved this milestone with the same speed as molasses running uphill in the dead of winter (or as myself running uphill in the dead of winter).  I guess I should try writing more? Or running? Eh.

Why am I celebrating 99? Why the hell not?  It’s a great number, has a solid history of being cool. Like:

The song from that freaky early 80s German band, 99 Luft Balloons
The song from that freaky little purple-clad dude, (can’t remember his name), 1999
The song 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall
Agent 99 on Get Smart

Ok, that’s all I’ve got.

This Big 99th Blog Post celebration was the icing on the cake of my very exciting weekend.

Saturday was my luckiest day. I woke up and was in disbelief that I did not win the mega-huge-gigantic jackpot of 500 million bucks.  If no one else won it either, I plan on actually buying a ticket next week.

But all was not lost, we took the kids bowling. I got three strikes.  Granted, the bumpers were up. And I used both of my hands to bowl. And I put the ball on the floor first, then rolled it. Then I stepped over the line and the freaky imaginary sensor thingy was activated and the buzzer went off so my points were worthless. But I  pushed that ball with every ounce of strength I could muster and knocked all the pins down after it slowly zigzagged from side to side and narrowly missed going into the gutter. It was my finest hour. There was lots of cheering (only from me) air high fives (only I participated) and at one point, I even moonwalked across three lanes in my clown-sized bowling shoes.

After riding that high all morning (all by myself–my kids and husband weren’t that impressed), I returned home after lunch and discovered I had won Peg-o-leg’s The Jacket writing contest. I was about as shocked as when the guy at the bowling alley walked over and told me to “please stop moonwalking, people are trying to bowl and there are young children present.” (My own son had filed the complaint with management.)

Thank you, readers, for any vote(s) you threw my way. Last I knew I was in third place in a very tight race, so I’m thinking Angie somehow figured out how to vote 50 times in one hour.  In honor of winning the prized green plaid jacket, I will videotape myself in it twirling a baton because I am just stupid enough or just don’t give a crap what anyone thinks of me anymore to do it.

Which reminds me. I am quitting blogging. Yeah, that’s right. It’s over. I am done. Finito. No more posts from this chick. I can’t keep up with all this writing and reading and then with all the constant commenting and the replying and replying to replies, blah blah blah, it just never ends. I am going to start doing wild-n-crazy things like being with my family. Talking to other people. Going outside. Letting the thoughts in my head stay in my head. Wish me luck.

So I want to thank you all, loyal readers and commenters and people who ‘liked’ my posts here and there. It’s been a great ride while it lasted.

I’ll leave you with a very short-n-sweet poem (inspired by k8edid, the Queen of Poetry, who is infinitely better at this than I am. Well, better at writing good poems, not better at writing bad poems…)

A Very Bad Poem in 99 Words

Waiting for the answer

Will it be golden perfection?

Or scorched to black?

A wasted form of what could have been?

Waiting for an answer–

It pops up!

Silencing the beating of my heart.

Heaven is within reach!

Pulsing-hot, scorching metal against skin,

Be Careful! I might get burned!

Maybe use a knife, some tongs?

Electric shock is no concern for me,

Craving to taste the divine

Pools of butter spilling

Into rivers of sweet honey,

I sink my teeth

Into the warm and crunchy,

Lick my lips and sigh,

I can make some damn fine toast.


(oh, and Happy April Fools’ Day, if you thought I was being serious about quitting, damn, you are so gullible! If you knew I was just kidding from the get-go, then sheesh, you see right through me)
image: deviantARTS