WARNING: This post contains references to personal feminine health and hygiene, vaguely disguised offensive language, as well as possibly technical blasphemy.
WARNING: Reading this post may be hazardous to your opinions about me. However, I believe it all needed to be said.
I further decree that only people who can PROVE they NEVER watch movies or read books with "cuss" words be permitted to judge me!
My good friend, Ex-Smokey the Bear, proofread this post for me and advised me to advise the Judgment Crew to form an orderly, single file line in order to make it easier for the firefighters to put out all the pants ablaze before they can cause any permanent damage. To your butts, not the pants. As far as Ex-Smokey and I know, there's no saving polyester pants once they catch fire.
You should also bring some Bactine, be aware of the location of your nearest burn center, and be prepared to sleep standing up for a while.
WARNING: Yet another post where the WARNINGS are longer than the actual post. Maybe I should just stop with the warnings.
WARNING: THIS WARNING RIGHT HERE IS THE LAST WARNING I INTEND TO POST!
I'm on the air? Now? K.
Long time fan, first time caller.
I've been on hold a while, I'm driving, and my cell phone battery is jusssst about to die on me, so, if it's alright with you, I'll just make a quick statement, ask my question, and then hang up and listen to your answer on the radio.
Periods, God. What.the.(bleep). The only way out of them is 1. Pregnancy, 2. Dangerous medications, 3. Anorexia, 4. Surgery, or 5. Menopause?
Seriously? We live in an era where organ transplantation is not only possible, but successful more often than not, and yet, even though I'm not evil at all, I gotta cramp like I'm passing a mutha-fuhgotten KIDNEY STONE for three days before, and then wash blood stains outta clothes and sometimes sheets, every TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS?
I'll hang up and listen to your response now. I enjoy your show! Have a GREAT Spring Break and Easter!