Today I am borrowing a page from Joel at Crummy Church Signs, who I trust will not get upset if I accidentally spindle, fold, or mutilate it in my excitement as I present the first, and possibly last, Crummy School Shirt post.
The article of clothing in question was given to my wife, the Hot Comma Momma, as a token of respect from certain unsavory individuals who had previously lured her away from OC headquarters and onto her Adventures in Another Country…

Sometime back, while still suffering from the acute absence of my spouse, I was tagged by the Rosetta Rants Translator, who encouraged me to open up and declare several random facts about myself.
I abstained at the time to spare my readers any unpleasant revelations of my emotional well-being during my long and painful Camille-less state…

As of last Monday, the legendary Hot Comma Momma has returned.
A more conscientious and emotionally non-involved writer would definitely have found time to document this momentous event long before now.
Unfortunately, he is currently tied up in jury duty, which leaves the fearsome responsibility of accurately relaying this narrative in the hands of a clearly preoccupied journalistic slacker like myself…

So here it is, my first postless Friday and here I am posting.
I know I should stick to my announced schedule, but I am overtaken by a swoon-like frenzy of exhilaration. The source of this stunning oxymoron, is of course, the long awaited return of my woman: Camille, the Hot Comma Momma.
At long last she is returning from her travels and travails abroad…
Bad Hair Casebook: The Mullet Files

I know that I am posting ahead of schedule, but events are in motion that simply cannot wait until Monday.
Camille, the Hot Comma Momma, the joy of my heart, the mother of my offspring, is gone.
At this very moment, she is in Central America, fighting terrorism, teaching advanced asbestos handling, or possibly studying Spanish.
Perhaps all three, you can never tell with her…