*yawn* your standard dear john letter…how very common of me

Lawdie, lawdie, lawdie…there has been FAR too much drama around here lately for MY fatass. And as much as I wish I could play, no can do. As little Georgie Harrison used to so brilliantly say before he was dead, rotting, and stinking in the earth: it’s all too much for me to take. I sincerely apologize, but between moving and working and babies and life, I just don’t have the time nor the energy for it. I am but a poor and humble carny girl who has already survived more than her share of restraint, discord, tiptoeing, and fisticuffs. It’s my party and I just wanna have fun, goddamnit. And, I will.

So…here is my most genuine and heartfelt offer: If I and my Facebook or blog in ANYWAY offend, anger, shock, or even bore the living shit out of you…then this is your chance to make a clean getaway with ABSOLUTELY NO HARD FEELINGS WHATSOEVER. Not that there would be hard feelings at any other time…but now I am just openly laying my offer of total and complete no-fault, no-explanation-required amnesty on the virtual table around which we all sit. If what I do and say here frequently causes you to catch your breath and clutch your pearls (and not in a good way), I beg of you to step away — as it is probably not going to get any better. In fact, as I progress with the writing of my book, it will most likely get WORSE, seeing that I will probably be trying a few things out here first. My intent is not to piss anybody off, my intent is to tell the truth; MY TRUTH. If you can’t or don’t wish to deal with that, we do, in fact, have a children’s table available for those with more tender sensibilities — though the menu there will be cut back quite a bit to include merely some savory little finger foods and tiny confectionary treats.

Along with that offer, I am also going to have to go back on a pledge I made to myself when I started this thing: Because of the inexplicable and soul-sucking drama that inevitably ensues, it has always been my policy here to not unfriend people except under majorly rare and extenuating circumstances (like they have been uncovered as a shameless molester of beloved family pets, or that they are, in fact, dead — and even then sometimes I choose to keep them around just for shits and giggles…but of this, I shall certainly speak no more.)

But the problem is that my friends list has gotten so large and so unwieldy that I am having a difficult time keeping up with all of it. So, with that being said, I am probably going to go through my friends list and do a little cleaning up regarding those who don’t post very much (or at all) and/or those with whom I share very little in the way of communion. There is not enough time in this life, out of some misplaced sense of obligation, to keep company with people who are not of interest to you or for whom you feel no great sense of affection. That’s a sword, of course, that cuts both ways.

So, if you somehow made a profound error in friending me all those many moons ago — thinking this was going to be humor and social commentary on the level of rainbows and unicorns and sweet, chuckling, cartwheeling clownies (as opposed to the MOCKING, LEERING, TOOTHLESS, PAGLIACCI MIDWAY MOTHERFUCKERS you find lurking around MY gottdamned corners) — then I beseech you, noble friend, to take your glorious forsworn destiny into your own hands, step up to them clicky buttons, and boldly correct that mistake now. DO IT NOW. I am sure we will all feel the better for it.

Res ipsa loquitur.

And vaya con dias. (Go with the Gal)

Thank you for your very precious time…and now, back to our regularly scheduled programme of treachery, heresy, profanity, and deceit.

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About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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76 Responses to *yawn* your standard dear john letter…how very common of me

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