Mugging With My Mug - By Doug - On A Rug

An excerpt from a recent phone call with my wife:.

Me: Hello, relatively major insurance company in the deep south, this is Doug speaking. How may I help you?
Wife: You just got a package. I opened it.
Me: Cool, what was in it?
Wife: Looks like a mug. A coffee mug. (pause) A coffee mug with poo on it.
Me: Already? That was fast.
Wife: That’s what she said.

In case you haven’t figured out what my wife is talking about, I have received a major blogging award. It was marked “FRAGILE” and everything! This award is different than most blogging awards in that it’s tangible and it holds warm liquids. So far, just coffee but I have plans. Oh, do I have plans… Anyhoo, this award is extra special because it comes from Moooooog at Mental Poo, a blogger who I hold in some esteem despite his sticky “o” key. He has made me laugh myself incontinent and rush tearfully to confession within the span of a single post. No small literary feat. This award is based on my writing a response, in his stead, to a Mr. Bloo (not a Reservoir Dogs character despite much internet buzz). Moog (extra “o”s dropped due to keyboard fatigue) needed a response to Mr. Bloo’s disparaging email about a post regarding an ill-fated Thanksgiving dinner. Please find the details here: CLICK IT! CLICK IT GOOD!!!

So after boiling my award for an hour and having it blessed by no fewer than four priests, I whipped out my creaky old phone and snapped a few low-resolution pictures. This first one is me pretending to take a sip of something steamy and caffeinated while looking distraught over some pressing world event. Probably the recent military ouster of Honduras’ president. Speaking of steamy and caffeinated, here’s me:



This next one was supposed to be my “sly” pose, but it really just shows how much my eyes close when I fake smile. In the background you can see recent paintings by my prodigy progeny, Hambone.



Here we see me attempting a sexy look. When I showed it to the guy who cuts my neighbor’s grass he said, “Jess, joo are sad becauss de bug bites joo lips?” I’ve arranged for his deportation to take place in the dead of night for maximum revenge value.

And finally this is just me pretending to enjoy a steaming hot cup of joe. In defense of the dirty dishes in the background, you will please note that the dishwasher is wide open and ready to be loaded. No, I refuse to use “That’s what she said” twice in the same post. I won’t do it.



Moog, thanks for the mug. Everyone please make Mental Poo part of your daily routine. I think it will somehow make Jamie Lee Curtis happy. And you won’t be sorry either. Your parents may weep uncontrollably but they’ll bounce back. They always do. And if you’re jealous of my mug swag, go get your own. Moog sells it, among other things. Like shirts and underwear. Gently used. If you’re like me, you’ll be enjoying yours several times a day. That’s what she…mmmmfff!!!!