I might be a stalker. Crap.

Ok…so I have to come clean. All of this is a part of a much deeper plot. The blog…the comedy…the outbursts at my grocery store’s butcher counter…all of this is part of a much. bigger. plan.

I want to be on Ellen.

Don’t judge me.

Not for all the gifts, although I am tempted…but because she is cool and kind. And because she knows Wanda Sykes.

I could hang with Wanda.

We have a few things in common.

We have biracial children. Ok, technically, two of my children are caucasian and two are African. Whatever. The devil is in the details. We have both been thrown out of a few places. Yeah, it’s happened. Not so recently…but…whatever. I have a few (yes, few–don’t judge me) tales to tell. Someday. And Ellen and Wanda are both funny. I want to be funny. So there’s that.

And I support gay and lesbian rights. So there’s that.

And there is the fact that once again, this year, my children failed to write about me  us to Ellen, and have her show up at my door. SIGH.


Ellen, if you’re out there…call me. I’m available. I’m not pregnant, so I wouldn’t fit in your Mother’s Day Show. Personally, while it’s nice that you honor pregnant women…it’s time to honor we mother’s with a few notches on our belts.

Or, don’t honor me. I’m cool with that. Just introduce me to Wanda. Let me hang with you for an hour or so.

I’m not a stalker (that much anyway…).

If anybody out there has any Ellen connections, feel free to use them now.

In the mean time…Ellen–I await your call.

One thought on “I might be a stalker. Crap.

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