Actually, yes I do. 

You see I have been wanting to find another way to whore my blog out because I know I don’t do enough of that on Twitter, or by sprinkling the entire east coast of this continent with my blog cards, or by walking the streets in a sandwich board ringing my cowbell.

My grand plan to take over the interwebs and step on the paws and tails of all the other little kittens out there was to create a badge for anyone and everyone out there who absolutely must pimp me out because that sandwich board is getting kind of worn and the splinters in my ass are KILLING me.

But *sigh*…all I did was think about it and ask the universe to provide me with some spectacular inspiration (and time) that would capture the essence of my fantastic blog, and by fantastic I mean the one where I post more than once every eon or so.

What I love about the universe…or web or HOLLY! at Mid Western Mamma is that they always put out!
I woke up the other morning and there in my box…(heh I said box) was the most divinely inspired badge a vapid girl could ask for.
That Holly made for me…out of the goodness of her heart.
(I swear I didn’t promise her the pot of gold I’ve been hoarding in my basement ever since I took out that entire commune of leprechauns that were squatting on my property, they are worse than hippies.)

DUN, DUN, DUNNNNN!
The unveiling of my beautiful sparkly badge compliments of Holly,  who captured my essence to perfection!

I love her!

P.S. I am working on the little scroll box (heh, I said box, AhhGAIN) to show up on my side bar with the Secret Code…but for now it’s so secret, NO ONE can fucking have it. For now feel free to
1.Copy that picture —>
2.Paste it all over.
3. Link back  to me and
4. Tell me to shut the fuck up and go find some code bitch.

I am pretty sure my local grocery store is totally mind fucking me and quite frankly I am not that happy about it.

I do enough damage on my own, thank you very much.

It all started about a year and a half ago when I entered a raffle and won.
I won a mountain bike.
This is kind of like a vegan winning a cow that sits there looks and at you with those cute little blinking cow eyes that are too far apart.
You know the cow eyes I’m talking about.
That’s about how much I would use a mountain bike.

 
Then there is their meat.
Their meat doesn’t come with a disclaimer  that says “FLAVOR ENHANCED” and their meat doesn’t actually seep out white gelatinous goo when cooked.
Their meat is local and grass fed.
So you can see why I am addicted to their meat.

So I can’t understand why they would sell me a hunk of 15 dollar cheese named Prima Donna…
that when I got it home I realized the underside was COVERED in mold. 

Are you trying to kill me my beloved Local Grocer?  Or are you trying to make me go broke?

I vote for you are trying to KILL me, because NOT two day’s later as I was minding my own business picking out tomatoes through the swarm of fruit flies, all the while being  hawked on by the creepy ‘Children of The Corn’ produce guy that THIS melon, this ragged street cred honey dew melon tried to knock me out.

Not once, not twice, but three mother fucking times did that Melon jump off it’s pile at me all angry and shit!And because I was worried that the creepy ‘Children of The Corn’ produce guy was going to come at me clacking together a couple of ears of corn, I put it back three times not realizing it was the
Evil Satan Melon of DOOM.

 Just when I am about to cut you out of my life once and for all, 
you my Dear Local Grocer, 
you pull this crap out or your  fun bag of tricks.

Seriously, how can I EVER shop anywhere else?

Well played my Dear Local Grocer, well played.