BlogherNots Unite! -- UPDATED!

If there's one thing I LOVE, it's entertaining. I'm so glad you all are coming over tonight. I'll feel much less lonely while so many of my bloggy buddies are getting their grooves on at Blogher. It's just a shame that no one took pity and paid my way for me. I mean, what is this world coming to when people have to pay their own way? Ga-ah!

Oh wait! I am totally wrong -- and I'm not afraid to admit it. Why, I was wrong just last June. Anyway, it turns out that most of my bloggy buddies are NOT going to Blogher. Woo-hoo! BlogherNots unite!

So help yourself to my lovely cheese tray and some carmel corn and that oh-so-luscious, ice cold Corona, which is strategically placed on my tropical island table. Notice the Nude Beach sign in the background. Gettin' your island getaway fantasy on, are ya? I know I am. Channeling Holly has to offer up some rewards, and I'm thinkin' that my future with a few beachcomber days (weeks?) will be my fitting reward.


And speaking of "fitting" -- see, everything comes back to my current obsession, which is . . . ME! Getting back in shape for a bikini vacation is Issue Numero Uno around here, mostly because I've been fantasizing about cabana boys again. I know I said that the Cougar-Be-Gone worked like a charm, but then I saw the Nude Beach sign and heard Babs singing "Memories" and then that Jacob the Wolf showed up again in that New Moon trailer and my willpower went all to hell.

Oh silly me. Let's get this party ramped up! What are you waiting for? Dig in. I'll get the chips and dips for those of you with a hankering for salt. Don't mind me, I'm just shining my Texan hospitality for y'all. Does it sound genuine? I know! Not too many people can pull off that wholesome twang. :) Well, I HAVE been practicing.

UPDATE: I ran out to the store, and looky what I found!

Our vino lovers were whining about not having any wine at this shindig, so here you go, you squeaky wheels! I even threw in some fruit, olives, and yummy Eye-talian bread.
Thanks for pitching in on everything guys. Throwing a shindig this size can set a girl back. Put all your stuff on the dining room table, will ya? We'll just do buffet. Oh, and surprise! I have True Blood on DVD! Yes! The whole first season! Woo-hoo, and you're welcome.

Uh-oh, I've been celebrating a little too hard, if you must know. Truth is, I already twirled my bra around my head and sling-shot it around my ceiling fan. And then I got all dizzy from watching that sucker spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round, and ended up on the floor. Duh, I'm totally ditzed out right now. :) Good thing I caught my wine glass between my toes, or else there'd be a big burgundy wine stain on that berber I just fixed last weekend. I'm not sure what happened to my flathead, but my daughter doesn't like me playing with her tools.
It's all right. You can still come in. I'll sober up real quick. Woopsie! ROFLMAO! How can one person trip over her own feet so many times? Gah!
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Oh one more thing. Check out my right side bar where you can now download Fragrant Liar on your Kindle. For reals. I'm so going to have to buy one now.
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BlogherNot!

Okay, people, raise your hand if you're not going to the Blogher Conference. Go ahead, higher. I'm counting. One, two . . . five . . . ten. A whole ten of us are not going to Chicago for the annual Blogher soiree.

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling rather like that time all my stoner friends went down to Baja without me because Mom and Dad were being all paranoid about the fact that there were no responsible adults going. Ga-ah! They just loved making my life hell on earth. If it wasn't for them, I'd have lost my virginity much sooner. Probably.

So, I'm thinking that those of us who have to stay home and miss out on all the partying in the Windy City get together for our own blogger's conference. We'll call it BlogherNot, an unstoppable cyber force.

Oh, wait! Holly's on TV. Holy shit, she just threw off all her clothes, and now she's jumping on some guy. Ohh, baby, it's a detective. OMG, they're . . . Wonder where her Get-Yer-Shit-Together Angel Earl is? Is he witnessing this steamfest? Heh, heh. My girl has no shame. I love her.

Okay, commercial.

Whaddya say? Meet here Thursday night? We'll form our own panels. So Fragrant Liar, why do you blog? Because I must have constant attention, of course.

BYOB and some Fiddle Faddle, 'kay?
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