Guest Biatch: Witchypoo – Arseholey Naming Conventions

Today I have a guest biatch, Witchypoo. I have some super secret super exciting totally fucking awesome shit to do, so my girl came to my aid to entertain you all, or y’all cause I am all international and shit.

So give Witchypoo a warm welcome, lots of lovely comments and clicky click on her blog Psychic Geek and I will update you all on the awesomeness very soon.

LiLu, a screaming good read, has devised the now famous TMI Thursdays. I may not be here on Thursday, because I have plans to be on the road, mingling with the likes of Skinny Bitch, as well as people with whom I share a goodly amount of DNA. But then I remembered that I had promised Kelley, which I just totally spelled right, even though her MOTY was drunk when she named her, that I would do a guest post for her.

And since I just sent a pile of emails with my blog address in the sig line to all the people who work where I bank, I thought it would be prudent that people who actually know me in real life not get too much personal type information about me. So this post really doesn’t belong on my blog.

Krissa, always a good bloggy friend, often asks for (and gets!) far too much information. She cares, even about the yucky stuff. I thought it was time to show y’all I love you too. The following conversation will be colour-coded for your convenience. Krissa’s correspondence is in blue font.

I have been wondering how your appointment went and if the… end is near as far as your “cure” goes.

Heh, I can’t believe I used the term, “end is near”!

Yeah, my arse is on steroids and painkillers, heh.

Maybe it will become big and muscular and mean tempered! I’d pay good money to see that!

Seriously, I really hope the plan of action that your doc has you on is going to work out for you and your dear arse, too. Please keep me posted. I need to know if I should be looking for a donut for you or what. To SIT ON, not eat.

Yeah, I’m rethinking the multigrain bread. those pesky seeds can rip you a new one.

I just bet my arsehole on steroids is a real arsehole. (I sometimes think these email exchanges are way better than any posts I could come up with.)

BWAHAHAHA! This? Is what I’m counting on! I want updates and direct quotes from it!

PS You should probably warn AB and DWS that you are not responsible for anything mean or bad tempered that it does or says.

Maybe I should create a Twitter account for my arsehole. Jann Arden has one for her wart. My arsehole could provide direct updates!

Oh that would be great! We need to name it! (Notice how I am trying to be a parent figure to your arsehole, now…I’m not sure what this means… lets not dwell on it.) I like Petula. What about you?

Or Blossom. Or Starfish. Stop me now.

Oh the possibilities are wonderful! I don’t think it was this much fun to pick out baby names for my first born.

Remember the little skunk on Bambi? His name was Flower. Apt?

Flower hahaha which brings to mind Pepe Le Pew

I’ve decided to be big about it and let you have the final decision… Only because you are geographically closer to her. (I think we can agree on a “her” arsehole?)

That is big of you, although it is being such an aggravating shit, I thought it must be male.

You have a valid point… Hummmm?

Oh, the decisions!

I give you till tomorrow and then I swear I will decide if you haven’t. Just think how awkward it could be for me to know his/her name and you still not know….

How’s that for motivation?

Well, I think it’s all mean and steroidal. Not so much shrill and PMS y.

Herman. Herman the arsehole.

Very well. Herman it is! I think if you do a Twitter account for him he could maybe be Herman#2. HA! Number 2!

And the outcome? Follow Herman on Twitter.