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Much has transpired in 2011. I have gone from sitting around in my underwear to sitting around in my underwear. In the Caribbean.

So where have I been? My brain is constantly buzzing. It rarely gets me anywhere. As a thought publisher, I become confused as to where to distribute my best thoughts. There are ramifications. Do I choose Facebook? Twitter? This esteemed site? Tumblr? Should I post a boob shot or disapproving scowl on Instagram? Lengthy comment on a Foursquare check-in? Should I just do a group text? An actual email?  Will what I’m thinking of saying get me fired or arrested? The answer to that last one is often “yes.”

And there’s a question of publishing opportunity. I require regular helpings of sleep and alcohol. Work has the incredibly poor taste to be time consuming. Oh, I got a new nemesis, y’all!  I am not a time waster.

My loose plan is to battle my raging case of ADD and post every day for an entire month. I think I could coast for an entire week just on pictures of dogs with ennui, but that’s not very sporting, is it?

The lady of alot

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Earlier today, the Sally Hershberger of Lowell transformed my hair into some garish assortment of stripes. I think I hate it, but I’m not sure. It’s OK. I can’t have nice things. Sally’s young daughter is jailed in the salon for the summer, and she sat at the reception desk computer looking up breeds of dogs on Yahoo!. Every now and then she’d shout out a new one to her. “Akita! Basset Hound! Irish Wolfhound!” I shouted right back: “Airdale! Pomeranian! BOSTON TERRIER!” This does pass the time. I loved shouting out the dogs.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man

While my hair was baking in its foil jacket, I received a phone call asking if a price I estimated covered some wildly complicated new functionality that no one even mentioned in the RFP. I yelled “No, and never call me again! Just thinking about you cost me $300!” and hung up. Then I got another call, and I yelled “I told you never to call me again!” but it was Mr. H, and this made him sad. Then I got a parking ticket. Did I mention the first people I yelled at were monks?

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

Wow. Yelling at a monk on a cell phone in a salon is a whole new level for me.

And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man

The monks did call back, and they were ready to bargain. I prevailed.

My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene

Content Challenge is nearly over. Praise. I hope we can get through this without another mashup.

Nobody’s perfect, not even meeeeeeeeeeeee

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I’m hungry. Also, I just moisturized. The internet deserves to know. I probably should not post while hungry. I probably shouldn’t post at all. I have a pasta deficiency. And a cookie deficiency. I ran out. It’s like Darfur over here.

What is the most offensive thing I can possibly say? I am not sure, but I’ll know it when I get there. Should I go with a fat joke, an ethnic joke, a handicapped joke, or just make throw-up sounds? The sky truly is the limit in Content Challenge.

Mr. H had some fancy test at the hospital today, and they said he is still most likely not dying. They stuck needles in his arm and passed an electric current through a spot on the arm marked with an X. The verdict: he did not enjoy this much. Maybe they could jazz up this test, like an episode of Fear Factor. Tank of electric eels, please! I used my medical training to diagnose some people in the waiting room as elderly. Later, on the drive home, I diagnosed someone as a douche bag. The telltale sign of this disorder is total disregard for the turn signal.

Sunday, sunday, sunday

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At this point, the casual reader of Content Challenge is probably far more taxed than the writer. See, I can just say any old stupid thing, and it ostensibly counts. Maybe I am expressing myself. OK, I’m so not. Hazelnut beer is being consumed. I’m watching an old episode of America’s Next Top Model as I type. Whatever happened to Yoanna anyway? Haha, you totally just read all that. I offer no refunds, since this is free “content.”

OK, I’m sorry. I love you! I’ll Zellweger you all tomorrrow.

We went furniture shopping again, and it was an eye-popping experience. Willy Wonka was showing on the IMAX screen in the store (yes, really), and grubby children swarmed around with chocolate smeared all over their faces from the free Wonka bars. People appeared to be using the available wheelchairs and scooters to get around the store just because they don’t like to walk. Yeah, and I get sick of breathing. But somehow I soldier on. Oh my gawd, Yoanna can’t walk her way out of a paper bag. She would be so fierce on a Rascal scooter.

Candy, candy, candy, I can’t let you go

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Cat post! The topical is sooooo…don’t make me say it…irrelevant.

Coco is currently enjoying: Like Treats – Brewer’s Yeast & Garlic from Castor & Pollux Pet Works. I must also speak highly of their litter and Organix pet food. That’s right, worms, I order cat litter from the internet. She don’t like the cheap stuff.

Second part of the post: today I drove by a sign that read “RUMP.” It was supposed to say “BUMP,” but someone took a liberty. This made me laugh aloud. I also enjoy it when lettering is rearranged to say “ASS” in any context.

Third part of the post: Yesterday was Bastille Day, but I totally refrained from commenting on it, because I knew I would do it in the future! How’s that for efficiency.

Fourth part of the post: Some jwerk insinuated that writing many posts at a time and backdating them is cheating at Content Challenge. Well, of course it is! I’m the president. And while I may have taken a bit of a spill, I will still finish the race with head held high and socks filling with blood.

Go to a lake of fire and fry

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Content Challenge is not going well. This is Monday’s post, written in the future on Wednesday. No es bueno! I have zero inclination to get photos out of the camera. So I’m going to vamp for a paragraph and then churn out Tuesday’s entry. The internet is such a dang sweatshop. I’m saying yes, yes, yes when I should be saying no. But hey, if a six-year-old can make my shirt, surely I can — hey, why isn’t iTunes playing through the stereo correctly? WTF. Some of us have problems here. Well, not as bad as yours. Or yours. But you’ll never even understand you have a problem, so it’s all good. I’m going to put this cable into this hole and see what happens.