I don't care about busting no ghosts.
But sometimes I'd like to call a ghost writer.
Not necessarily a ghost that writes but someone, anyone, who would be willing to write a blog post for me.
A good blog post.
One that is funny and quirky and clever and amazing.
With lots of ... ... ... 's so you'd think I wrote it myself... ... ...
...with maybe a few knock, knock jokes thrown in for good measure.
The reason I'm telling you this, is because on Sunday night I was laying on the couch...super comfortably. I had my legs up on the back of the cushions just so I could admire how thin my thighs look like that. I do that sometimes. When I'm watching inane TV.
Oh, don't act like you don't know what I mean. You do that, too. Don'tcha? Put your legs up on the back of the couch so the chunky part is pulled down by gravity and your thighs look all thin and shapely?
Really? I'm the only one that does that?
Back to the ghost writer part of this post.
So there I was, just chillaxin' with my thin thighs while watching Hungry Girl try to convince me that onion rings made with bran cereal and egg beaters taste just as yummy as deep-fried ones (quite possibly the reason why you never see Hungry Girl laying on the couch with her legs up on the cushion is because her thighs are thin and shapely from eating low calorie stuff like that!)...Hungry Girl makes me angry. Which makes me want to eat. So I'm not really sure why I watch that show to begin with, you know?
Where was I?
I got to thinking about those bran cereal onion rings and...
There I was chillaxin', and Mr. Jenny came into the room and said to me, "What did you write your blog post about for tomorrow morning?"
Accck. Eeegads! I realized I had forgotten to write my blog post for Monday morning.
So I screamed, "Acccckkk!!!! EEEGADS! I forgot to write a blog post! What the heck am I going to write about?"
Mr. Jenny thought for a moment and said, "Well, maybe you should write about how I made Chipotle-Plum Barbecued ribs this afternoon."
"Wellllll..." I replied, "That was kind of a big event. And they were mighty tasty. Why don't you take a picture of the leftover ribs and I'll go start writing."
And Mr. Jenny said, "Welllll..., I kind of ate the rest of them while you were watching that show with the girl who makes food we don't eat."
And this is exactly why I need a ghost writer.
How can I write about ribs and not show you a picture?
A ghost writer wouldn't care about a picture of ribs. They would be brilliant and funny without resorting to telling you about strange onion rings and ways to make your thighs thinner WITHOUT diet and/or exercise.
They would close their posts with brilliant jokes.
Like this one.
"Who's there?" you say?
"Woo who who?"
OMG! Run away fast. It's a ghost!
I'm sorry. That was an exceptionally groan-oriented knock-knock joke. Even for me.
I know it.
It was the ribs.
The chipotle plum glaze went to my head.
Yeah, that's what happened.
I'm certain of it.
But I'm okay now.
I'm calm and in control, which is great, because I just have enough time left before I go to bed to...
before I hit the publish button.