WTF

Hi you,

I think there comes a point in every young girls life when she sits down and starts to think about her death. Now when I say "young girl" I mean 29, and when I say "think about her death" I don't mean, like, tomorrow or anything! Jeez, I'm not suicidal! I'm just a planner. I want to have things done and settled by the time I am done and settled.

There are a lot of things I would like to accomplish while on this earth. For one, I would love to have really long hair again. I know, I'm a dreamer, but I look at all those Misha Barton look-a-likes out there, and I can't say I don't churn with envy.

For two, I would like to be a repertory player on SNL. You're supposed to be really specific with your dreams, right?!! Well that's what I want! I can do lot of characters and impressions and I sing. So there, suck on that!
And I think that I would like to have a baby. Ucchhhhhh. I know, I just threw up in my own mouth, but it's true. At some point I should have a person come out of my body and I should name them and feed them regularly.
I would like someone to dress like me for Halloween. Come to the party as Amy. That would be great.
I would like to write for a magazine, preferably about some sort of procedure that makes your wrinkles turn into chocolate to feed the homeless. Or my child that I'm going to have at some point.
I would like to have two dogs. One big and one small. I would like to name them Silly Dilly and Josh. Josh would be the smaller one I think.
I would also like to have the power to make bees attack people I don't care for. Like the ones who don't laugh at my set at a show. Or Republicans.

These are dreams, I know, but dreams can come true. Just ask Peter Pan and Ross Perot! They know!

When I finally do die at the age of 92(but still with an ass you can bounce a nickle off of. Or a Wheat penny) I would like you all to behave in the following fashion:
1. Be classy America. Dress in black with little to no cleavage. Butt cleavage that is, boob cleavage, totally okay.
2. Cry. A lot. And hard. Cry so hard and dramatically. Throw yourself on the floor and then barf a little but keep on crying.
3. Sing a gospel song. Like Amazing Grace or...I don't know any others. So learn one. For my funeral. When I'm 92.
4. Tell a funny story about me. You can even make one up as long as it's funny! And preferably not one about you catching me farting in a car museum or passed out in the men's room of a retirement home. Again, keep it classy. America.
5. And finally, DANCE! That's all. Just dance your sweet little caboose off.

There we go! Now I feel better. All my wishes out on the table...oh,no, WAIT! I forgot the final rule!

6.Make sure my head is cryogenically frozen and pasted upon my new body that has been scientifically manufactured for me by the smartest of Japanese chemists who not only made me have Oprahs power but also her bust line. Win win!

Okay, that's enough.

Love,

Amy

यो दद्दी.or..Yo Daddy

Hi you. You with all your glory. You with your silly face!

First things first. Let's address why the title of this blog is in Tamal. I'd now like to answer that. I don't know. I was writing this blog while I was in India and for some reason the title comes up in the native Indian tongue. It's nuts.

Second thing second. I have an IPhone. The IPhone has changed my life. A tiny cell phone with internet capabilities and an mp3 player has changed me. Not only has the IPhone made me a better citizen, lover, philanthropist and butterfly catcher, it has also opened my eyes to injustices of the world!! That last sentence to you may not have warranted two exclamation points, but it's important that you are aware of my passion on this subject!! Here's how is all came about:

I, like most IPhone owners, have a lot of fun keeping ourselves busy with applications. There's an application for anything you can think of ever. There are bowling games, and things to monitor your weight, and fart noise apps followed by recipes. There are fish apps and cat apps and bubble wrap you can "pop" and a zippo lighter that you can flick open and light the flame by touching the screen. It's magical! I spend a lot of time downloading these applications because frankly you never know when your gonna have some down time and the only cure for your painful boredom is reading about different drinking games you can play later on that night.

I had the pleasure of coming across one particular app one lazy Tuesday afternoon that altered my life forever. Well, not really. But for the few minutes that I had before I realized that I had an episode of The Bad Girls Club dvr'd that I hadn't watched yet. The application was titled YoMomma. It consisted of all the Yo Momma humor you could physically and emotionally handle. It had the classics like "Yo momma's so dumb she put a quarter in the parking meter and waited for a gumball to come out." to fresh up and comers like "Yo mommas so poor she got married just to get the rice.". All delightful, all the time.

This got me thinking: How come we don't have Yo Daddy jokes, hmmm? Why are our mothers the easy butt of jokes? I mean, haven't they been through enough with us? From the pain of childbirth to the inevitable disappointment they feel when you decide to skip college to join your 47 year old boyfriend/cult leader on the road of redemption. Leave mothers alone! Let's turn our attention to other groups of family units, shall we? Well lucky for you I have taken it upon myself to write some familial jokes to take the pressure off of you. You're welcome.

Try these on for size...

Yo' Daddy's so dumb, he forgot my birthday, which is upsetting for me, because he remembered yours, and we're twins.

How about...

Yo' Daddy's so poor he took all the money out of my college fund to pay for that hooker that ended up being my stepmother.

Or this....

Yo' Daddy's so fat, he's at risk for heart disease, which in turn puts you at risk, because technically, it's hereditary.

We don't have to stop there. No sir-ee! There's plenty more where that came from. How about ripping on your brother? He's sort of a dick, right? Let's do it!

Yo' brother's so dumb, he doesn't even recognize that my father loves him way more than me.

This is a zinger....

Yo' brother's so deaf, he couldn't even hear me crying at night all alone while he read comics books that our parents bought for him even though I didn't get anything except for a stupid old Marie Claire subscription which I am clearly too young for, even though his bunk is right under mine.

Ouch! Right?! Ouch! That's gonna leave a mark!

You know what? I'm on a friggin' roll with this! Let's take another crack at this. No one gets away unscathed. Let's try...second cousin. I know, I'm vicious.

Take this....

Yo' second cousin looks so familiar, you swear that she looks way more like your brother than you do, which prompts you to do some snooping, which then leads to an unfortunate and shocking discovery that your mother had an indiscretion about 29 years before with your Aunts husband, but it was promptly swept under the rug and almost forgotten, but then *poof* nine months later you were born which seemed weird to your "father" because they had stopped being intimate 6 weeks after they were married, but it was all too painful to explore, so now here you are in therapy with a terrible addiction to Vicodin and cutting all because your "Mother" made some poor choices that you now hold the burden to.

What?!!!! Burn!! Oh my God, that one is so harsh! I feel so badly for whatever person any of those soon-to-be-classic jokes may apply to. Luckily not to me or anyone I know. Booyah!

Well, gotta go. I'm starting to feel feelings.