I was just going to say something, but I completely forgot what it was...

1. Why do I have a butter knife in my hand? Hmm, it has mayo on it, I must have been making a sandwich. But wait, why am I standing in the bathroom? Wait, I don't even have any lunch meat. And, where are my pants?

I haven't slept much lately. Is it obvious?

2. My oldest is on a hunger strike. He refuses to eat anything...except Kung Foo Panda fruit snacks, those, he makes an exception for. I haven't heard his demands yet, but I am sure it has something to do with the quick release of the age inappropriate light saber he got for his birthday.

3. I wish I could have written this blog last night, but you see, So You Think You Can Dance is back, and I can't pull my self away from the 2 hour nightly audition process. It's especially trashy this year, as they are featuring less of the good auditions and more of the train wrecks, like all the Emo kids who feel nobody "gets" them, gay men who are convinced that because they wear leggins and have an airtight routine down to All That Jazz complete with awkward chair straddle, they should be put through without question. The best is when they are sent home, being called out for the talentless hacks they are, left to shuffle into the cold night air with their dignity tucked tightly in their glitter leotards and ribbon wands. Fools. But, they'll come back next year.

They always do.

4. Today at the store, I saw a fat guy in the dairy aisle wearing a t shirt that said "Watch it, or you'll end up in my blog."

I felt bad for him. Then I felt bad for myself...because here he is in my blog, and I didn't even have a t shirt warning him.

5. What do you call a pig who likes karate?

Pork Chop.

Oh man, that joke was funny when we first heard it. Not so much now that my boys make me retell it 500 times a day. Granted, the kicker is the karate chop hand motion you have to add in when you deliver the punchline. If you forget it, you will have to start from the beginning.

HI-YA...that was for you Jen!

6. Last year, I had the guilty pleasure of being a guest judge at the cheerleading tryouts for my friend Michelle's team. I was in straight Bring It On heaven, and my friend Michelle is a flat out cheer-tator! It was awesome. Granted, my judging skills did not extend beyond Kirsten Dunst shaking her pom-poms, or the random plot line requiring Kelly Kapowski to don her Bayside Tigers uniform, but I feel I was effective none the less. Just the thought that I had simultaneously crushed/lifted the dreams of some angsty teenager warms my heart.

Alas, I was looked over as guest judge this year. Apparently, you aren't supposed to boo the girls, take sips from a flask, flash the janitor in the next room, drunkenly lecture the girls about how their youth and good looks are only downhill from here or draw lewd pictures on the interview forms. I guess I'll just sit at home and watch When Animals Attack.