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Tupac and I Have Something in Common…

We’re both not dead.

Ok, actually Tupac might be.  But I’m not.

So what, praytell, caused my whole month-long, shrouded-in-mystery absence from the blogosphere (PS:  I totally hate that word and can’t believe I just used it)?

Some of you might have suspected that I finally got popped by a drug kingpin for all my years of sordid dealings.  Some of you might have suspected that I snapped under the pressure of the holidays and am now in jail serving a five-year sentence for committing aggravated assault in a grocery store with a bin of discounted Christmas wrapping paper tubes.  (Haha, and how much fun would it be to just whale on unsuspecting patrons with those suckers??)

And some of you might have completely forgotten that I even existed on this blog.

All of which are entirely likely conclusions, but wrong nonetheless.

Turns out, I’ve just been… busy.  I know, way less interesting reason, right?  Feel free to make up your own, much more exciting tale about what happened to me.  I recommend working in UFOs and a secret CIA conspiracy that I cunningly uncover.

Anyhoo, I can’t promise that I’m not going to disappear again ’cause I’m feelin’ squirrely, folks.  Squirrely and flaky.



In fact, this might be the only post you get from me for a while because I’ve got job-hunting and apartment-hunting (our lease is up in February so we’re moving… again… frick.) and all sorts of other shenanigans requiring my immediate attention so I’ve got to start paring down my obligations to the bare essentials for the time being.

Rest assured, though–even though I’m too scattered to be clever or dependable or available to entertain you on a semi-weekly basis right now, know that I have mad love for you all.

I’ll try to make it up to you at some point down the road when things settle the eff down, but I’ll totally understand if you decide to get all bitter about it and snub me like the son does to the father in that “Cat’s in the Cradle” song.  Stupid, non-catch-playing father.  Serves you right, jerk.

Anyhoo, until then, keep your noses clean, bellies full and hearts happy.

And now, I will leave you with some words of wisdom from the famed poet-rapper, Tupac:

“Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe.”

Well-said, Mr. Shakur.  Well-said.



the other Mrs. Barstow

He really SAID that????? :>D


Maybe he was big into gardening and was trying to paint it in a gangsta light.


Yup. It’s “ho”, ho. Think Santa… :)

Happy New Year!

Ps. “Frick” is my new curse word. Haha the kiddies will never know…


Haha, leave it to my family to point out a misspelling in completely erroneous rap lyrics. We are officially our father’s children. :)


Haha, you crack me up. Definitely miss you – your writing style is so funny!

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