What am I referring to? Why, today's post, of course! It was gonna be great. There were going to be photoshopped pictures, possibly of me in front of an American flag. Also a delicious stuffed mushroom recipe, and a series of provacative "would you rather" questions. But she had to go and pull the rug out from under me.
Why would she do such a thing?
Because she hates puppies! And small children. And probably hippies.
Well, everyone hates hippies. That's nothing new. What did she do?
Well, I'll tell you. It all began with this confrontational post, wherein she details the requirements which must be met to get on/stay on her blogroll. (It really is a funny post. You should read it!)
'There's nothing to fear,' I tell myself. 'I'm sure I'm on the blogroll. I'm freaking hilarious!'
About the being on the blogroll thing, not the freaking hilarious thing. Because I am. Freaking hilarious. But I'm not on the blogroll. Or at least I wasn't until yesterday, when she so graciously added me.
And blew my Emma Sometimes Blogroll Campaign.
[Insert photoshopped picture of me in front of billowing American flag]
See, now doesn't it make sense?
I was going to woo her with things like this:
| My Fortune Cookie told me: |
You may be infinitely smaller than some things, but you're infinitely larger than others.
Get a cookie from Miss Fortune
And quotes like this:
"I've enjoyed my reign as romance icon for I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! and believe the time is right to pass the torch to the hunk who best represents the new generation of romance and fantasy and can embody the fresh, butter taste of the new I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" --Fabio, March 2006
Good, funny stuff!
But, no! She goes and steals my thunder clean away. Well, I have one thing to say to you, Ms. Sometimes...
Thank you so much. That was very sweet!
(Quick question--how does one "embody the fresh, butter taste of the new I Can't Believe It's Not Butter"? Sounds like antibiotics should be involved.)