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Warning: Creating default object from empty value in /home/jimstant/public_html/fetchmyflyingmonkeys/wp-content/themes/platformpro/admin/class.options.metapanel.php on line 49 This post is disturbing on many levels, which only makes it awesome. But not really. I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore. | Fetch My Flying Monkeys
I had just gotten finished eating a Christmas lunch at work Friday when the contractions started. At first they were mild, and then they started getting stronger and closer together. Beads of sweat started popping out on my forehead. I felt dizzy. I didn’t want my food baby to be born at work. That’s just gross. So I started thinking of something else, a meadow in the spring, a bird chirping, my happy place. I started rubbing my protruding abdomen to calm my food baby down. It worked. I made it to quitting time. On the drive home the contractions came back with a vengeance. I rubbed my protruding abdomen again, this time singing “Hush little baby don’t you cry, Momma’s gonna buy you Charmin two-ply.” I thought about pulling over when I nearly lost consciousness at a stoplight, but I knew I wanted, nay, had to have a home water birth for my food baby. I thought about getting a police escort but there was no time to even make a call on my Bluetooth. I slid into my driveway sideways and jumped out of my car. With my house key in my hand, I slammed open my front door, and didn’t even turn around to shut it. I just ran. I yelled at my pets that had run up to greet me to “Get the Hell out of the way!” and I prayed my water wouldn’t break before I reached my destination. And it didn’t. Thank. God.
Now I have to check with HR this morning to see if I can get some FMLA time for having my food baby (even though I named it Moses and sent it down river) because this is as close as I’ll ever get to baby makin’.
I’d send this to my mother to read because I like grossing her out (she won’t drink water from the bathroom tap even)…but she’d only ask me what it was about…like the time she called me to ask what the ‘c’ word was. Explaining a ‘food baby’ to her would probably keep her out of the bathroom forever.
I have read a disturbing number of shit posts since I began my forays into the blogging world, but this is absolutely the most creative one I have seen.
Heh. I’ll betch yer son Moses is gonna be causin’ some trouble in the sewers. Next thing you know, he’ll be stirring up trouble down in Arab, AL or something.
[...] Laura at Fetch My Flying Monkees has upgraded her ticket to hell. As a bonus, go here for her disturbing post that is JUST WRONG, Funny as hell…. but JUST WRONG! [...]
OMG, What the hell did you eat?
I keep asking myself that same question.
“P F Chang’s, mostly.” — Randy Marsh
That shit’ll kill you Asian-style.
You are too freakin funny, I laughed through that entire entry. I’m Awake Now! Thanks
You’re welcome.
Hush little baby don’t you cry, Momma’s gonna buy you Charmin two-ply.” HHhahahhahhHAHHAhhahahahhah!
Singing helps calm down babies doncha know.
LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! OH MY GOD! LOLOLOLOLOLOL!! I just keep reading it over and over. LOLOLOL!
Get to work!
“I rubbed my protruding abdomen again, this time singing “Hush little baby don’t you cry, Momma’s gonna buy you Charmin two-ply.””
One of the funniest things I’ve ever read on the internet.
My food baby seemed to have liked it too.
I can’t stop laughing. LOL!
You get to work too!
I “snerked” coffee through my nose. I could be upset, but you did have a warning.
My sinuses haven’t been this clear in weeks.
Don’t waste coffee like that!
I thought it was funny when my son described it as “dropping kids off at the pool.”
But naming the kids and singing to them?
That’s some funny shit right there.
HaHa @ your last line!
sounds like a serious case of the Ham Sweats…
I think the potato salad impregnated me with my food baby.
You sent Moses down the river? What kind of mother are you?!
I sent Moses to go live with someone better equipped to take proper care of him- The Columbia Sewer and Water Company.
Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo will teach Moses right from wrong.
HAHAHAH!
I am wondering where to send the flowers and other whatnots.
In lieu of flowers and whatnots, donations can be made to the IBS Foundation.
You ought to get some type of award for that piece. I’ve never heard it described quite like that.
I really should. Maybe a Nobel in Literature?
You have my vote, although it will be ignored…they never pay attention to me….sorry bastards.
you.are.nuts *giggling as she heads out to play with ponies and barn goats*
Tell them “hi” for me. Which means you have to kiss their heads. Sorry, but that’s the way you do it.
This post was disturbingly awesome. Isn’t it nice that others can find pleasure in your discomfort?
HAHA! Yes it is.
I’d send this to my mother to read because I like grossing her out (she won’t drink water from the bathroom tap even)…but she’d only ask me what it was about…like the time she called me to ask what the ‘c’ word was. Explaining a ‘food baby’ to her would probably keep her out of the bathroom forever.
HAHAHA! Umm, I won’t drink water out of the bathroom either.
Maybe the “Bo’B” have come up with a new strategy and are trying to kill off the mailroom sheriff in an attempted coupe through food poisoning.
You might want to speak to your “handlers” for clearances for some assassinations…..
Oh I would never eat anything they made….this came from someone with food clearance. I’ll have to revise the list now.
A new high… or low. Either way THAT was funny! Word… Happy Holidays
Happy Holidays to you!
thanks for the grin…started my day off right!
You’re more than welcome.
Best. Lullaby. Ever.
Thank you.
Imodium, never leave home without it…
My food baby was way past Imodium me thinks.
I have read a disturbing number of shit posts since I began my forays into the blogging world, but this is absolutely the most creative one I have seen.
Ha!@ Well, thank you. I really do try to refrain from bathroom humor.
Girl, I have soooo been there. My food baby was Mexican, though. But since I am American that means it is a citizen, right?
HAHA! Yes. A Mexican-American.
New term added to my vocabulary. If I repeat it in front of the right people I might even get the dosage increased on my meds.
That’s what life’s about- getting meds increased.
Corn?
Actaully no.
That was just wrong….. funny as hell, but just wrong!
I just couldn’t stop myself.
Clearly, insanity runs in your family. \O_O/
Heh. I’ll betch yer son Moses is gonna be causin’ some trouble in the sewers. Next thing you know, he’ll be stirring up trouble down in Arab, AL or something.
HAHA! I bet the lil sonsabitch does.
[...] Laura at Fetch My Flying Monkees has upgraded her ticket to hell. As a bonus, go here for her disturbing post that is JUST WRONG, Funny as hell…. but JUST WRONG! [...]