Jen. Jen Mann. Of People I Want To Punch in the Throat.
It's not like she needs the advertising, either. She has a bazillion followers already. I have like, three. Which is fine, that's how I like it. I couldn't write on command or because an editor told me I had to meet a deadline in order to sell widgets anyway. You know I don't endorse much, so when I do it's like a big deal. She tells it like it is and spells shit correctly. She doesn't sugar coat anything and isn't sucking up to anyone just to fit in with the cool kids.
Plus, she looks like one of my most BFF-iest F's in the Universe (who also has giant balls), so I think once I laid my eyes on her I was smitten even after being swayed by her smooth talk.
She took her blog to book form. And it.is.fantastic.
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| Let's just take a second to appreciate the similarities between her cover cupcake and my "stand up" Pooh Bear, shall we? |
If you asked my children what this was, they'd think I wrote it and that it's just a straight up list of about six thousand specific names including Mr. Mountain Dew Skate Park and the kid who just called Esten "a retard" three days ago. But it's not. It's a great book, digestible one chapter at a time (perfect for moms who can't get through anything thanks to their Offspringus Interruptus).
She is convincing because she is approachable and believable (even the unbelievable parts) and real. She is my people and part of my tribe.
Today she is my lady crush.
I hate e-readers, but I took a chance on the Kindle version because it was on sale. After reading it I almost wanted to log back in and pay full price. It was so worth every penny. Except the time I started laughing and the Kindle fell out of my hand and I dropped it on my face because I read in bed. That sealed PIWTPITT's fate of being the first and last e-book I will purchase.
That said, I did go back and purchase this work again in a glorious stack of cold, dead trees, and I'm going to give it to one of you. All you have to do is comment below here or on the Facebook link about someone YOU recently wanted to punch in the throat (you don't have to name names, unless you want to), and you'll be entered to win. That's it. Plus, you're competing against like...three people so your odds are fantastic. You're so lucky that I'm so unpopular and that half my redneck friends have blocked me and my liberal nonsense from their feeds and whatnot.
I'll let the Lee Boys fight over who's going to draw a winner on September 25 when I get back from Detroit if I don't get stabbed or mugged for my old ugly green carry-on with the busted zipper and my Shopko purse.
You can tell us about as many people as you want because if you're like me, it's tough to narrow down the field of candidates. But you're still only getting entered once. And I'm not responsible for any fights between spouses that want to punch each other in the throat. Nor for husbands who are missing out on this because it's "hunting season" and there's no wi-fi on the mountain. Tough shit, guys.
You can tell us about as many people as you want because if you're like me, it's tough to narrow down the field of candidates. But you're still only getting entered once. And I'm not responsible for any fights between spouses that want to punch each other in the throat. Nor for husbands who are missing out on this because it's "hunting season" and there's no wi-fi on the mountain. Tough shit, guys.
I have a list, but I'll stick with the one person I had to put on 30 day probation today because of "unprofessionalism".....then said person gave me every excuse in the book and told me they had never been called that in all their life {uh, can we say immature much?!)! A throat punch would've been a perfect way to end that convo! 😏👊🏼
ReplyDeleteI am pretty sure I have an unfair advantage where I work, so I'll leave all people and things work related out of it.
ReplyDeleteOne of the people I wanted to punch in the throat this week was a fellow driver on hw 195 on Sunday night.
Drove under the speed limit blocking traffic til colfax. Let a string of cars around them then decided I shouldnt pass. So they sped up to 15 over the limit. At this time I was commited, so I went around and started to switch to the lane I needed in front of them, but they sped up and blocked me and honked. I gassed it around them, and left colfax rapidly trying to put distance between us. They sped up, passed me, cut in front of me, and slammed on the brakes. I used all my willpower to not ram them up their tailpipe. Twas a delightful time.
It's ok if work people sometimes cross your mind as candidates. Like ones who rhyme with Plenty-Jive-Cheerio-Licks. That one's on my list sometimes, for not taking my calls or texts when I've locked my keys in the hockey wagon.
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