People sometimes ask me how long it takes to write these posts, and I always give the same truthful answer:
I really donâ€™t want to boast for more than a couple hundred words or so, but the work of a serious humorist is not easy, it requires persistence, dedication, and obscene quantities of coffee.
And once you make it out of bed, it gets even more challenging.
Anyway, all this laborious authorship tends to take a while, which sometimes tests the patience of my family. Especially since I can be difficult to contact while I am in my writing-trance. In fact, as I consult my pillowed dictionary, and practice my ritual snores, I am often mistaken for being asleep. Which of course is not the case, I am just concentrating.
Very, very deeply.
And frequently, as I return to a more mundane state of consciousness, I will find a communiquÃ© from the lovely and ever gracious Hot Comma Momma, delicately reminding me of my household responsibilities.
Here is a collection of recent correspondence from Her Loyal Hotness:
It sounds like that sasquatch got back into the basement again. The kids probably left the window open. Can you take care of it? I left the cattle prod and pepper spray on the kitchen table for you.
Could you pick up your alien artifacts out of the living room? The girls are coming over tonight to watch some movies. You remember how upset you got last time when Debbie put the onion dip in the trans-dimensional electro-ponder.
The auto-cloner is acting up again. Itâ€™s putting out a puppy every hour and Iâ€™m running out of newspaper. Please see what you can do.
Lots of Love
The kids have been telling people that you died in an oil fire again. Perhaps youâ€™re working too hard. Please talk to them. In person this time, no holograms. Remember, these are the days that we will always cherish. Good luck honey.
“We have to be strong. Daddy wouldn’t want us to disgrace his memory by getting all blubbery.”
Thereâ€™s some government-looking men parked in a van outside the house. Theyâ€™ve been out there all week so today I took them some sandwiches. Theyâ€™re the nicest surveillance team yet.
So, is there anything you want to tell me?
You’ll have to excuse me, all this writing has worn me out. I have to go concentrate again.
This post is dosing off over at humor-blogs.com
hahha hot momma comma. fantastic blog, i enjoy intelligent humor
It takes a wonderful lady to be able to readily recognise government stooges, you must be a lucky man.
I can take the auto-cloner off your hands for a while — I need to rake some leaves. m.
i cant get this out of my head now…! “help us daddy ominous comma! you’re our only hope.” LOL.
Iâ€™m laughing so hard just reading the title to your post and thinking oh wait thereâ€™s moreâ€¦
Speaking of large quantities of coffee, I think Iâ€™m overdue on my contribution to your lattÃ© fundâ€¦Iâ€™ll have to rectify that at once.
If there ever was any doubt the HCM is the most wonderful wife in the world this post is sure to clarify. (was that a complete sentence (?) weâ€™ll just pretend it wasâ€¦)
Great pic of the Comma kids, although I do detect a tad bit of mischievousness. Hmmmâ€¦â€¦
(sorry about the transdimensional electro-ponderâ€¦did I do that?)
Great post! Have you had to explain yet why there’s a tricycle in the tree in the front yard?
I don’t know why the wife automatically assumes it’s my fault when something like that turns up.
Nice post there. Rickey approves of it. Well done.
Obviously the Hot Comma Momma is a woman with great patience, good genes (I’m pretty sure those adorable children don’t look like YOU Dr.Tobbagganananaic), and an amazing amount of calm in the midst of chaos. Because I’m also pretty sure that chaos follows the Ominous Comma Poppa around with great regularity. You should go out and buy that lovely woman some flowers and chocolates immediately.
“Manly Chunk of Masculine Authorship,” is really a cry for help. Dr. T needs to see you in his office A.S.A.P!
A real man writes using nothing more than his manhood, while simultaneously knocking back numerous brandies and flicking cigar ash upon the head of a terrified street urchin.
HCM is the best. I get in trouble when my auto clone spits out a puppy every DAY- and you get away with every hour? Lucky, man.
Anything involving obscene quantities of coffee sounds good to me. HCM must be an extraordinary woman to put up with all those trans-dimensional electro-ponders you leave lying around. So, you want to clue us in on what those electro-ponder thingies are for? ;)
Too many times I have been deep in writer’s concentration only to be yanked out of it when somebody asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking,” I respond, then wonder if I’m the only one who practices that activity while doing absolutely nothing else.
It’s good for the soul.
Sorry it took me so long go get back to you all, things have been hectic.
Thank you Your Hotliness for filling in.
You know quite a bit about our family, Karen. Do you drive a white government van?
You are right though, the Hot Comma Momma is stupendously great, and I award her with gifts as often as I am able. And conscious.
I know what trans-dimensional eloctro-ponders are, and now I finally know where to send the cleaning bill for the 642 gallons of onion dip that mysteriously appeared in our attic last spring.
You’re really Douglas Adams, aren’t you? You just faked your death a few years back. Admit it.
Otherwise, you’re a damned good substitute. Excuse me, I need a wet cloth to wipe up the soft drink that just shot out of my nose.
The Uncanny Broadcasting Brain
P.S. I’m this amused just by reading the comments section. I have high expectations for the post itself.
You’re one lucky guy :)
P.S. I love your no-nonsense humor. Keep it up :)