I'm Always Right


It is a ridiculously hot real estate market and the Hubs has been working overtime. When we first started working together way back in 2006 we divided up the responsibilities: he'd work with buyers and I'd work with sellers. Over the last couple years, I've pulled away from real estate and left a lot of it up to him. He's been working like crazy these last few months and I couldn't help him because I've been finishing up Midlife Bites.

But as luck would have it, I'd just turned in my book to my editor at the same time he sold a listing, so I could help him. And it was a good thing I was around!

Because he specializes in buyers, he sometimes forgets the rules and laws for working with sellers. Last week he sold a listing (yay) but I felt he was misinterpreting the contract. No. It was more than a feeling. I KNEW he was misinterpreting the contract, but I could not get him to understand that what he wanted to do was not correct. 

"No, no, no," I said. "You'll be in trouble if you do that."

"I do it all the time," the Hubs replied.

"Yeah, because when you do it you're representing the BUYER. It's okay when it's the buyer, but the seller cannot do that!" I was practically screaming because he wouldn't listen to me. 

"What do you know?" he said. "You haven't sold a house in a year." 

McScuze me??? I might be a bit rusty, but I still know my contract law. "I know my shit," I argued. "I've sold a lot more listings than you have. Trust me. I'm right."

"I'll bet you I'm right," the Hubs said.

I don't normally like to bet unless I know I can win. When I go to Las Vegas, I go to the spa and shopping because I'd rather "lose" money that way. But I knew I was right, so I bet him. "If you call the real estate commission and ask them who is right, I'll bet you a hundred dollars," I said. That's how confident I was.

"Fine," the Hubs said. "I'll call them now."

"Fine," I said.

The problem was, it was a Saturday and the commission was closed for the weekend.

Yesterday was our anniversary. We didn't exchange gifts this year because after 18 years of marriage, what could a person still want? 

I was working in my office when the Hubs poked his head in. "You got a minute?" he asked.

"Yup."

He walked in and dropped a hundred dollar bill on my desk. "The Hubs always pays his debts," he said. "Happy Anniversary, you were right. You're always right."

And that right there was all the gift I've ever wanted.


What's the best anniversary present you've ever received?


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Meet Stan the Mann!


If you follow my personal Facebook account, then you'll know, we got ourselves a Pandemic Puppy in August. 

That's right, I finally broke down and adopted a dog. I know Adolpha's first word was "Dada" but I'm pretty sure her second word was "puppy." For over ten years Adolpha has asked us every day if we could get a dog. 

I didn't want a dog because I had enough to take care of and I knew that no matter what anyone said or promised, I'd be the one responsible for the dog. 

But once we were in the throes of the pandemic with no end (still) in sight, I decided that maybe we all needed a little furry friend to make us feel better. Every day we'd send links to one another advertising different dogs that were available for adoption. We argued over the pros and cons of big dogs vs. little dogs. Puppies vs. older dogs. We made lists of potential names for our non-existent dog. 

Finally, after several weeks of planning, we found the perfect dog and name: Stanley.

We're all big fans of The Office and Stanley is our favorite character so it made sense to name him Stanley. 


When Stan's adoption day rolled around, we wore masks and sat in our minivan while we waited for him to return from his surgery (snip, snip). Finally, after two hours of waiting, a masked volunteer dropped a sleepy puppy in Gomer's lap and we were told, "Good luck!" 

I didn't know what to do with a dog. Neither the Hubs nor I had a dog growing up and we didn't have any sort of "dog-ternal instinct" that would kick in. So, I ordered a bunch of books and started reading. I've read more about raising dogs than I have about raising kids! Luckily, Stan is super smart and he's made it quite easy for me.

We've had Stan for several months now and he's officially part of the family. So, must a part of the family, he got his own Instagram account. If you're not working on social media, you can't be in this family!


When we got Stan the kids were out of school and everyone could help take a turn watching him, playing with him, feeding him, walking him, pooping him, all of it. But within a few weeks school started and the state was like, "Ma'am, your kids need to be learning shit, not taking care of the dog so you can fart around on Facebook." 




So, guess who is Stan's BFF? 

It's not terrible, though. He gives warm hugs and is always happy to see me, which is more than I can say for the rest of my family. I finally get why people like dogs so much!

OH! I forgot, here's the FAQ everyone always wants to know about Stan. 

What kind of dog is he? We don't know. Because he's a rescue, we weren't given a lot of info except he's a "Retriever mix." There are days he looks like he's got some beagle in there or some boxer. 

Those paws are big! How much does he weigh? He's finally growing into his big paws. Last month at the vet he weighed just over 30 pounds. The vet has guesstimated he'll be 70 pounds. 


As I said, I don't have a lot of instinct when it comes to raising dogs, so give me your best bit of advice please! Follow Stan so you can take in all of his cuteness! 

And if you order a signed copy of any of my books, you can be assured that Stan helped me stuff the envelope. Act now and receive a slightly-chewed bookmark for FREE!!

 

Anyone Else Falling Apart Or Is It Just Me?


So I'm pretty sure I'm going through a midlife crisis. I feel like I'm falling apart. I feel like the more I try to keep from falling apart, the faster I fall apart. I feel like I'm drowning and I can't breathe. And, on top of all that, I also feel numb. I'm not positive that's a midlife crisis, because when I Google midlife crisis or signs of a midlife crisis, so much of the information points to how men feel or how men can cope. There's not a lot of information out there for women.

I thought, Maybe it doesn't happen to us? No, I think it's more like we don't talk about this stuff. 

I was reminded of a story about my overwhelmed great-grandmother asking her doctor for some help and he told her, "Nice women don't discuss such things."

Nice women don't discuss such things.

I guess it's a good thing I'm not a nice woman? Because I'm ready to discuss this uncomfortable topic.

I'm miserable. I've been feeling this way for about a year now and I was afraid to say anything even to my closest friends and family. It's a really shitty thing to say out loud, because I know it hurts the people close to me, plus it just sounds like typical suburban angst. If I was a refugee somewhere, I wouldn't get the luxury to say, "I'm just not happy." I'm not running for my life, I'm not watching people around me get murdered, I don't have any real strife in my life, so what the fuck? Buck up! Right?  

I don't know, though. Don't I deserve to be happy? Don't I owe it to myself? Isn't that what I'm always preaching? Or am I supposed to keep this all to myself and just muddle through and not make waves?

Are You a Willful Wife?


Readers like to send me links to blogs or articles they think I might feel strongly about. This week I received a link to a blog called Biblical Gender Roles. I didn't even have to click the link before I felt "strongly."

But I took a deep breath and decided not to judge the blog by its title. After all, I'm always irritated when people scoff, "People I Want to Punch in the Throat? That sounds so violent!" I didn't want to instantly assume that this blog was written by a homophobic dude with control issues and a God-given desire to dominate the inferior females in his home. That would be wrong of me. I needed to read his writings first before I decided what to think of him.

And then I saw the title of the blog post: 8 Steps to Confront Your Wife's Sexual Refusal.

Fuck that guy. I already hate him.

The C-String


Today when I was getting dressed, I was complaining about how hot I was. It's 90 degrees today and I just can't cool off. It doesn't matter what I wear, I just can't stay cool.

I was walking through a parking lot with the hot sun beating down on me and all I could think was, Man, I'm sooooo hot. I wish there was something I could do to make me cooler. I was wearing a skirt and I gave it a little flip so I could get a breeze up in there and then I realized what was making me so hot.

It was my stupid underwear!

Covid-19 is Serious, But I Won't Stop Being Funny


Hey! How's it going? Everybody hanging in there? It's weird being home all the time, right? As a full-time writer, pants-loather, and curmudgeon, I was positive the stay-a-home order wouldn't be a problem for me. But after a week or so, I'm itching to get out again. Apparently, I like people. Who knew? But no matter how much I want to put on a bra and pants and leave my house, I know I can't. So, I'm staying home and helping to flatten the curve.

I'm not taking the COVID-19 lightly. In fact, I've been following the progression across the world on Twitter since December. I bought toilet paper and hand sanitizer back in January when the shelves were full.

I'm sincerely concerned about the outbreak and what it means for all of us, but I won't stop making jokes. I've been a professional humor writer for several years now. I got my start as a blogger and eventually became a New York Times bestselling author. I have over one million fans on social media and I still spend a lot of time (way too much time) on the internet interacting with them all day, every day. They know they can come to me and I will give them a daily dose of sass, snark, satire, (and swearwords).

When the virus finally arrived in the United States, I had to decide how I was going to handle my social media presence and my brand going forward. I never want to stick my foot in it with a poorly-timed joke. When there was a tragedy in the past, I usually offered condolences, went dark for the day, and within a day or so, I could be back to the funny business.
That all changed when COVID-19 hit. I couldn't just offer condolences and check out for a day or two. This virus isn't going anywhere anytime soon. It's all we talk about, think about, and prepare for. My job is to make people laugh and I treat that job incredibly seriously, especially in the midst of a pandemic.

Laughing releases endorphins and endorphins promote an over-all sense of well-being. Studies have found endorphins may reduce anxiety and depression as well as give your immune system a boost. I can tell you, anecdotally, laughing makes you feel better. I have hundreds of emails from people to prove it. Laughter helps them cope when they're going through tough times in their lives. They turn to my writing to feel better. Whether they are enduring chemotherapy treatments, or dealing with depression or loss, or just had a rough week, they all need a smile. That's why I refuse to stop.

I'm someone who uses humor to diffuse tough situations or make heavy moments feel lighter. Humor is subjective, though, and as a humorist I need to be careful. A lot of thought goes into the balance I try to strike every day. A little dark COVID-19 humor here, a lot of common quarantine gripes there, and a crap-ton of Tiger King memes spread generously throughout, because that show is a freaking gift!

We all need to laugh, now more than ever. I might not be your cup of tea (and that's okay), but I encourage you to venture out (virtually) and find people who are your cup of tea. Funny folks have nothing but time on their hands and a captive audience, so they're creating so much content for you and there is something for everyone out there. I hope you find someone who makes you laugh because in these uncertain times nothing feels better than a belly laugh.


This essay originally appeared on IN Kansas City.

8 Ways to Say "F*ck You"


8 Ways to Say "Fuck You"

I've noticed a real trend on the internet lately. The passive aggressive "fuck you". We've all been a victim of it and I'm betting we've all dropped one or two of our own on a douchebag here or there.

I've rounded up some of my favorites, but I know I missed a bunch, so leave yours in the comments!

I'm Always Right

It is a ridiculously hot real estate market and the Hubs has been working overtime. When we first started working together way back in 2006 ...

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