Be forewarned: All the links contained in this post lead to a site that is rife with cussing, dark humor and lovely sarcastic wit.

I have a confession: I’m in love with The Bloggess.

No, I’m not in love love (I’m curious but not THAT curious) but I’m definitely into some hardcore admiration. She’s so delightfully witty and clever and random and oddball and naughty. Yes. All those things.

And she’s still called a mom blogger? She’s more of an antidote to the stereotypical mom blogger.  She is a mom, and she is a blogger, and I guess she does post some parenting type stuff . . . but I like it best when she’s just posting about random crap. Like giant metal chickens named Beyonce. HELLO.

I don’t want to turn this into a post about a blogger I’m jealous of because that’s NOT the case here. (I was, and am, jealous of Joni still – that girl has mad skills that I totally envy). But with The Bloggess I’m not jealous, per se. Or maybe jealous isn’t the right word. Admiration is all I can think of that fits. The girl’s got balls, man. Her mind twists and turns more than a corn maze.

Okay, I may be a tad bit jealous of her ability to turn a completely inane subject into something inexplicably, gut-wrenchingly, I’m-going-to-get-fired-for-laughing-too-much-at-my-desk-funny. Or maybe her ability to delight in and enlighten the masses on any morbid subject she has a fascination with and make it all seem palatable.

The Bloggess: “Well, now I’m all curious. I can’t smell my own eyeballs, dude. This exactly is why I got married.”

But really, most of all, I love the way she takes some random prose and slices and dices it to her bidding. The way she can say something so simple but so uber-effective. She’s succinct and goes straight for the jugular. She has a dry, sarcastic humor that really resonates with me.

Side note: My husband says my humor is really dry as well – which is why he gets mad at me sometimes and I have to yell, “DUDE I WAS KIDDING. HAVE YOU MET ME?”

So I read about Beyonce (the chicken, not the singer) a couple months ago and nearly had an asthma attack getting through the post. Later that night I read it out loud to my husband. I had to stop multiple times to take a breath, or potty break (and panty change), from all the laughing. He just looked at me like my my laughter was a foreign language. Though, at parts, he did smirk a little, but mostly he was like, “huh?”

The Bloggess: “Then I yelled through his door, “It’s an anniversary gift for you, a-hole.  Two whole weeks early.  15 YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.””

I’ve been sharing more of her posts with him recently and I think he’s really starting to appreciate her humor. Like last week, for example, I sent him this little convo between The Bloggess and her husband, Victor.  He (my husband, not Victor) wrote me back fairly quickly (SEE? He actually read it without me having to nag – that’s something right there.) and his response was, “oh dear god.”

So I totally think he’s getting it.

Then when I got home he leaned in and sniffed my eyeballs. He determined they were odorless. That’s a win for me on both counts.

I think we all work a lot and life is hard and if The Bloggess can write about random crap and make me laugh then I’ll take it. Levity? Yes, please.

But, deeper than the humor, she reflects a relationship with her husband that I think a lot of wives (and husbands, judging by the comments) can really understand. Marriage is really freaking hard sometimes and spouses are not meant to be clones of each other. Two people, one mind? No, thank you.

I like my husband the best when he’s doing something I can’t do. I also like it a lot when he admires a trait I have that he doesn’t. The Bloggess’s husband is the straight man to her schtick.  I counter-balance my husband’s act all the time – HELLO, he’s an actor – but at home we can switch those roles pretty easily. Being able to counter-balance each other is what makes it all work together.

Excerpt from The Bloggess:

Victor:  What?  I’ve never wanted a monkey.


Victor:  Not me.

 Well…that’s what’s wrong with you.



(We were both yelling, but for two entirely different reasons.)

If you’ve never read The Bloggess I would start with Beyonce. Then go change your pants and come back and read some more. You won’t believe it until you read it.

Oh, and this:



One thought on “The Bloggess makes me pee my pants

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