Tag Archives: Noo-Noo

My 200th post

I just realized that my last post was my 199th post and that my next scheduled post was 50 Shade related.  Somehow I didn’t want that to be my historic 200th post.  Even though I completely missed whatever my 100th post was, I wanted this one to be special.  How often do you have 200th anniversaries?  You know, while still alive?  Not like those they’re always talking about on Google, where it’s some famous person’s 548th birthday.  That seems pretty silly to me.  Are we going to drag out the corpse and put a birthday hat on it?  Cause that would be super creepy yet also a pretty cool reality T.V. show.

Happy Birthday, Benjamin Franklin!

Happy Birthday, Benjamin Franklin!

Anyway, I would say “wow, I can’t believe I have written that much” but wow, I’m not actually that surprised because I am a pretty big blabbermouth both in voice and print.  But at the moment, I don’t have bunches to say.  So I’ll let others do it for me.

How am I going to count two!  two hundred apples!  Alice!  You suckkkk!

How am I going to count two! Two hundred posts! Alice! You suckkkk!

We don't have enough fingers to count to 200, Alice!  Oh, and don't shoot!

We don’t have enough fingers to count to 200, Alice! Oh, and don’t shoot!

I just covered your blog with 200 band-aids!  Or band-aidos in Spanish.  Say it with me!

I just covered your blog with 200 band-aids! Or band-aidos in Spanish. Say it with me!

200 is the number of times I had Ana say "Oh, jeez" in the first chapter of my book.

200 is the number of times I had Ana say “Oh, jeez” in the first chapter of my book.

I do 200 pushups every ten minutes.

I do 200 pushups every ten minutes.

There are two hundred globs of us up your nose!

There are two hundred globs of us up your nose!’

I sucked up 200 cups of Tubby Custard.  Then the Teletubbies.

I sucked up 200 cups of Tubby Custard. Then the Teletubbies.

OMG, some lady is having 200 babies on TLC!

OMG, some lady is having 200 babies on TLC!

200?Math is hard.

200?
Math is hard.

Two hundred posts.  Big freakin' deal.

Two hundred posts. Big freakin’ deal.

Twoooooooo-hundred nutssssssss!  Omg, Omg, Omg, Omg! (faint)

Twoooooooo-hundred nutssssssss! Omg, Omg, Omg, Omg! (faint)

Years of Art class at work!200!

Years of Art class at work!
200!

Thanks for reading,

Alice

Alice’s Letter to Santa

It’s been a while since I wrote a letter to Santa.  A fellow blogger gave me the idea, and I decided that, hey, I’m greedy.  Why not?

In five seconds this letter will explode.

From: Alice [Alice@wonderland.com]

To: Santa Claus [thebigSman@northpole.com]

Subject: My Demands

Dear Santa,

Hey you know that stuff where I said I didn’t believe in you and your stupid tiny reindeer?  Just kidding!  I think you’re totally real and that you’re going to give me lots of material crap.  That is what you do, right?  I admit I’m a little confused on the whole concept.  At four, my daughter asked to lead a prayer.  Her prayer went as follows, “Dear God.  Please ask Santa to bring me Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses.  Amen.”  I never realized you were middle management for God, Santa. I guess I could pray to your boss, but I think you’re a more direct line; and praying might be pushing it for me, as I hear your boss has lightning bolts.

My list is pretty simple this year.  I just want peace and happiness and love and joyness for everyone.  Also I want everybody to have a new purple flying Pegasus unicorn of their very own.  Pfft, not really.  I want a lot of stuff for me.  You might get me the new purple flying Pegasus unicorn, since you failed to do that back when I was a child.  This could be your chance to redeem yourself, fatty.  I mean, Santa.

There are a few things I’d like for others, but mostly because it benefits me.  First, I’d like that stupid kid to get her two front teeth, that other kid to get the darn hippo, and finally for that Santa baby twit to get all her crap so that they will all finally stop singing those songs.  I hate them.  A lot.  Can you do that Santa?  That would be swell.

Next I’d like for politicians to shut up.  I think that would be ever so wonderful.  They ought to be allowed to speak only on special occasions.  With scripts.  Prepared by normal human beings.  I’m not sure how you’re going to accomplish this.  Maybe you could import them all to the North Pole and give your poor elves a break.  Yeah, I know all about your North Pole sweat shop you got going up there, Santa.

But what material possessions would I like for me?  Glad you asked.  I would like one of those living vacuum cleaners like the Teletubbies have.  Get me a Noo-Noo.  Also a new house.  I know, you don’t have lots of houses at the shop.  That’s okay.   John McCain can’t even remember how many he has, so if you snatched one of his, he probably wouldn’t even know.  Thanks.

If you just do these simple things for me, I will not only forgive you for past wrongs; I will not report you to the government for exploiting elves.

I’ll be waiting.  Don’t mess up.  I know where you live.

Alice