Picture it.. Vegas, 2011! So there I was..(and props to everyone who picked up on the Golden Girls reference!) plucking my third chin hair this week, hold on this gets more personal, when I sent a small prayer of thanks to our Heavenly Father for the wisdom and foresight of striking me down with a humongous cold sore above my lip, a cheek pimple and PMS today. In my effort at personal growth, my prayer of Thanks went something like this-"God, I realize I've been a 'fucktard' for approximately the last 30 years (I had to have been a decent human being at some stretch, right?) and I am grateful to still be drawing breath. I want to thank you for the opportunity to experience social facial uncomfortableness in these days prior to my trip to LA where I will be convening with the cast of Big Brother 13. Your infinite wisdom knows no bounds and my gratitude spills forth, along with the continued abdominal bloat and possibly dried up, flaky herpie goo. Please hear my prayer. And thanks for getting the refrigerator replaced. Amen, Your faithful servant, Brooke. PS- if things continue as they have been, I fully expect my humpback to rear it's bountiful mound in the next few months and request that I have an ever playing theme song of "My Humps" by Fergie and her black eyed peas, because really there is no limit on shame."
Lovely lady lumps indeed.
PSS..sorry for saying fucktard in my prayer, but it is the beginning of a revolution. A socially backward slide of my moral compass, but a revolution nonetheless.
PSSS..During said convening of Big Brother 13 cast members and myself, a complete Big Brother idiot, having never seen a single episode in 13 seasons, I ask for guidance and support that I might not shoot liquid out of my nose while laughing at my own ridiculous jokes, that I am certain are going to be told, or if liquid should come from any of my orifices may it land on my sister Kelly and no one else, because really, what are sisters for?
PSSSS...and by the way, if you could turn some water into wine, I have a case in the fridge (cold, praise Jesus) and feel like tying one on tonight. I'm feeling a nice Pinot Noir or hell, even a Zinfandel will do in a pinch! But no rush, I need to hit the treadmill. Ciao! Again.. faithful servant, future dweller in the fires of hell, Brooke
Faithful Servant Brooke: This is God speaking and I am fully aware of the "trauma" you must be going through, but the way I see it better NOW when you have time to heal than the goopy cold sore appearing on the GLORIOUS day that you shoot captain out on your lovely sister!
ReplyDeletePS: Remember I DO have a sense of humor! Lots of love~ your GOD!!