Omgosh, y'all. I have been so sick this week, I have literally begged, crying and cringing, for Rob to shoot me. The jackhole refuses, God bless his soul, so here I sit, in agony, crapping my brains out, cursing the virus that's causing my amoebic dystentery malaria gastroenteritis. Or as the doctor at the ER last night referred to it, apparently mistaking me for someone stupid, the "stomach flu."
What?!! I could've picked a worse picture! And trust me, Google Image has them. I'm being nice, here. And I'm feeling particularly cranky, so you're lucky. Imagine how sore my, uh, yeah. Let's move on, here. You've all been there.
(Why am I suddenly craving a bean burrito from Taco Bell? Gross.)
So last week, we had an early Christmas at Great Wolf Lodge. Trip Numero Tres, that would be. The last time was two years ago, but this time, we went because we got an incredible homeschoolers' discount. Yeah, buddy. It pays to skool yer kidz at home. Even if you occasionally get sick and that edumacation consists of, "Please go clean your rooms. Or break something, I don't care. Just leave me alone." Okay, so that exact conversation didn't really take place, but essentially, we have taken this here week off from scholarly pursuits. Can you blame me? I mean, I've single-anally upped the stock market index for all things Cottonelle.
Anyway. I thought you said we were going to discuss Great Wolf Lodge, not my arse? Oh, that was me. Because, you know, I do all the talking here, and you sit and read. That's how it works. Ah. Now apparently I think you're stupid. Well, you are here and not reading Perez Hilton or something. I mean. c'mon.
I think I'm going to just publish this one and then start a whole new one for the actual trip after I've had a chance to disinfect my brain from the havoc that is being wreaked upon my bowels at present, m'kay?