This blog is about to change. A lot. For the better, I hope. But I can’t make any promises. I’m almost officially a gypsy. If all goes as planned by this time next week I’ll have no “permanent home”, and few possessions. Before you start to feel sorry for me, … But, wait! There’s more…
I know, I know. I can hear you all saying… ‘Kernut, who? Kernut the Blond? Hmm, that sounds vaguely familiar.’ Sorry. (Assuming you’ve missed me.) Honestly, I’ve missed you all. Believe me, I’ve wanted to write, but I’ve got nothing. A big fat nothing. And I’m On My Way To … But, wait! There’s more…
We interrupt our regularly scheduled post on my Match.com Misadventures to provide you all with much needed disaster preparedness information. You’re welcome. As y’all know I can be a bit panicky at times, while simultaneously possessing a tendency to do stupid things, much like a lemming would hurl itself off … But, wait! There’s more…
Blond = Me, Kernut the Blond Lemming = A small, hamster-like rodent with suicidal tendencies, known for throwing themselves off cliffs for no apparent reason. I have lemmicidal tendencies. Homicidal = Self explanatory. Does anyone know the statue of limitations for homicide? Why? No reason. First, I apologize to you … But, wait! There’s more…
When we left off in part 2, Martin Sheen and I were parked with driver’s-side windows together, our cars blocking the small neighborhood street. Meanwhile, the stalker in the white pickup was slowly coming up behind my car, most likely realizing I’d just obtained A-list mother-fucking help. Oh, …and we … But, wait! There’s more…
When we left off, I had just realized I was being followed by some stranger in a beat-up pickup truck with dark tinted windows. If you missed part one you can read it here: The Time Martin Sheen Saved My Life. Part three (the conclusion) coming soon. Trying to lose … But, wait! There’s more…
