Escape From Sane by Blogarella

Going out is going to be more of a challenge in a few months, so Mr. Blogarella and I have been making sure we get out of the house and see something that doesn’t involve the almighty Playstation 3.  Obviously, its easier for me to part from this mechanical wonder.  Since we have begun these excursions, I’ve made a startling discovery – hissy fits.  Its a new found phenomenon, and they appear to happen when something doesn’t go my way.  Take Saturday night for example.  I can’t eat large meals without entering the exillerating new world of acid indegestion, so dinner was pretty much a fistful of vegetables.  Around 10:00PM I was HUNGRY!  We were at a dining establishment when low and behold, the kitchen was closed.  Damn!  So we do the logical thing, go to an establishment down the street.  This one also cheats me out of food.  Double damn!  So on our way back to the original establishment, I proceed to loudly and publicly accuse Mr. Blogarella of not caring about the baby or not caring about me because of the lack of effort in acuiring me food.  In typical man fashion, the reply was “you should’ve finished your dinner.”  Whoa!  Them is fightin’ words!  I decide its in my best interest if we just go home, but wait, there is a McDonald’s along the way and the night might be saved…after 15 mins. of waiting in the McDonald’s drive thru, I decide to cut my losses and go into an establishment that is completely foreign to me.  Mr. Blogarella tried to explain that it was probably not what I was looking for, but that is where he was mistaken.  I discovered something grander than a free all-you-can-eat buffet at happy hour.  A sign was hanging up on the wall annoucing the The Weekly Thursday Night Booty Shaking Contest with a cash prize of $200!  Sadly, it wasn’t Thursday, even sadder, Mr. Blogarella was did not share my enthusiasm.  But then again, a pregnant woman probably shouldn’t be shaking her booty for cash prizes, especially in an establishment where women were sipping their beer through straws by the dozen.  But, its nice to dream. 

I assure you that nobody in the establishment remotely looked like this