It was a sunny Tuesday morning when they came for me.
The birds were chirping sweetly. The fire truck sirens were drowning them out, and the Taco Bell drive-through was crammed to capacity.
They put me under a blanket with a biography and told me not to come out until the captain had turned off the seatbelt sign. They assured me everything would be fine, and that I would be safe once we arrived at the CBD (Center for Blog De-tox).
The CBD was a charming and warm institution that hummed of family and informed vitality. Every room had been ingeniously designed with protruding, motherly arms that reached out to welcome and happy-hug the visitor.
The whole establishment was like a giant Womb...
Like an enormous, muscle-plumped Womb with a locker-room steroid secret and a perpetual drip of EHC (Excessive Human Caring)...
... (except without all those sticky, disgusting Wombly fluids circulating through and around it...)
Anyway,... the CBD hooked me up. I was provided with a brilliant buddy to womb-trot with and offered such daily seminars as:
*Dominoes, Debauch and the Decline of Dignity
*Anarchy, Alfalfa-harvesting and Afterlife
*Bucket Beers, Banter and Bread-neck Bars
*News, Nicotine and Caffeine: What the Indianapolis Star doesn't tell you
*Revolution, Resilience and Retribution: The Return of Roller Derby
*Horseshoes and Whore Issues: What they didn't teach your skanky sister in kindergarden
And, in the end, I graduated from the Blog De-tox Program! Yeah!!
But... here I am again... De-toxed and back for another fix...
I just can't seem to kick this one...
*Update: To fulfill prerequisites for the Roller Derby Seminar, check out my friend's Chicago roller derby league here. These sexy renegade chicas will beat you into proper learning shape, if I don't get to it first...