Squatlo Joins Wonderella; Mooner’s Therapy Issues Balloon


So. Outside influences are ruining my life. It isn’t bad enough that I am inherently a ADHD-addled crazy redneck fuckbrain, allegedly, it seems that the recent weeks have brung me imported outside looninesses. I know brung isn’t a word, but it should be.

One of the outside loony factors is my fancy pants editorator, the bitch. I’m college educated for shitsakes, I know that brung is not a standard word. But who among you in my reader pool had any doubt what I meant when I used it? None of you, right?

But miss fancy pants can’t stand to allow a man freedom of the pen. I’ll bet if I was a woman she’d tread more lightly when I make up words or when I intentionally fracture sentence structure to suit my intentions.


And Wonderella. Holy shit and wipe my ass with the Pope’s lace slip, but Wonderella has brung me to my knees. See what I mean about brung? Way more impactful a word than brought.

Of course, impactful isn’t a real word either. But I didn’t use hoot’n’nanny English and say, “bringed.” Bringed just isn’t impactful at all.

I’m getting near the point where I need to end either my monogamous relationship with SAC Ellen, or my intense I-netter love affair with Wonderella. Wonderella is far less demanding on me but SAC Ellen has actual sex with me.

Had sex with me.

What’s wrong with a man if he dreams about a cartoon semi-super hero and accidentally calls his real life lover Wonderella a few times?

Not much, really. It’s not like I called her by an ex-wife’s name, and with ten of those there’s a good chance that any sex-fueled misnomer hits on an ex’s moniker. I can’t figure what the big fucking deal is with that.

After ten days of emergency psycho therapy sessions intensely focused on my, “Wonderella issues,” as Dr, Sam I. Am-Johnson terms it, I’m even more confused than ever.

Take today’s special session. I said, “Look, Sammy, I can’t figure what the fuck it is that I did that’s so wrong here.”

“Mooner, there is nothing I can do for you if you can’t see what your problem is,” was the best I could get for $400.00 an hour.

“Then why am I paying you 400 bucks an hour?” A reasonable question to my mind.

“You are paying me to help you get better, my dear ex-husband.”

“So, again I ask. Why aren’t you helping me?” Reasonable I am, again.

“OK, Mooner,” Dr. Sam started. “Try this on for size: “I … can’t … help … you … if … you … don’t … know … what’s … wrong!”

My turn. “Alrighty then, try this on. I know that … you … are … a … giant … bitch!”

I stormed out of her office, signed my bill for $400.00 and slammed the front door as I left.

But I’m digressing the point of this bloggie posting. Squatlo paid me a visit last night and left a comment to my bloggie. It was a comment that displayed keen insight and a sharp humor. I was impressed and tuned-in to his sight at http://www.squatlo-rant.blogspot.com and fell in love with his mostly political humor and informative stuff. He’s almost as prolific as me and likely way smarter.

Check him out and see what’s up, the giant flaming asshole. I say asshole because I spent several hours reading his stuff and forgot to call SAC Ellen at an appointed time. She agreed to go to lunch with me and try to explain to me why the Wonderella dealie chaps her ass so much.

But like I say, Squatlo stepped into my life and caused me to shit in my own mess kit.


I’m lucky I’ve got the Squirt. I can’t understand half of what the little shitbird says to me, but she’s loyal. As long as I share my Carta Blanca beers with her, we’re best dog and friend.

Manana, y’all.

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7 Responses to “Squatlo Joins Wonderella; Mooner’s Therapy Issues Balloon”

  1. squatlo says:

    I’m not sure if I should be laughing or concerned here… all I did was stop by and leave a comment or two on a funny-as-fuck blog post, and now I’m being complimented for insightful commentary AND blamed for some phone call you forgot to make. I’m used to being the source of a woman’s ire (I have that effect on some women), but don’t think I’m entirely to blame for this woman’s pissy attitude about the Wonderella thing. Fact is, I don’t even know what a Wonderella is or looks like or why anyone would need to have that information in a day and age when free porn on the internet is responsible for more cases of carpal tunnel syndrome than repetitive-motion injuries in sweat shops. But I’m willing to learn. That’s the thing about being curious, you never stop finding reasons to turn the page (or move the mouse, as it were). Could be this Wonderella woman is out there somewhere waiting to ruin my life, as well as my friend Mooner’s.
    Here’s what I’ll do: you can tell Strategic Air Commander Ellen that I caused you to miss your duly noted phone appointment, and if she needs a witness she can bitch me out on my site or send a nasty email telling me exactly why it’s assholes like me who keep causing problems in her life. I’ve heard most of those lectures so often I can yadda yadda yadda along in two part harmony without a crip sheet. I’ll take one for the team, in other words. In fact, I can refer her to a support group of like-minded women who will take her side in every future discussion involving my worthless ass… it’s a small, but very dedicated club of strong-willed ladies.

    You, on the other hand, have to stop by my site every once in a while and stir up some shit of your own. I’ve got a dedicated following (both of them) and we could use your snarky words of wisdom at Squatlo Rant. Bring friends and you get a key to the VIP room.

    Ten ex-wives? Is that for real? Holy shit, I’m not sure if that’s the reason for the Psycho Therapy or if it might be the other way around! I’ve only got one and I’ve been in recovery for twenty-one years… You have my deepest sympathies (and utmost respect!)

    Sorry for the distraction. Gotta go… my B52 is getting warm.

  2. admin says:

    SAC Ellen asked me to tell you that she thinks you are not as funny and smart and thoughtful as do I (me?). I should mention here that she proofs all my stuff before it ever gets posted,and not with my permission.

    As a former suspected home grown terrorist, I spent a year under the watchful eyes of the US Department of Homeland Security. That’s how I met the Special Agent in Charge, Ellen McClellen. She’s not bothered herself to remove all of her agency’s spying devices from my life… just the ones in my bedroom, my car, my office the bathroom and lunch room at the compost plant, the locations we most frequent for sexing.

    If you can read between my lineage, tread lightly on the SACster. She bites. A not altogether unpleasant experience.

  3. squatlo says:

    Reading between the lines has never been one of my fortes, Mooner. But I know when I’ve been warned… pass my apologies along to SAC Ellen, and let her know I meant no harm, insult, or disrespect to her, her family, the U.S. Government, extraordinary rendition, non-lethal enhanced interrogation techniques, or those who might employ them. In fact, if I wasn’t sitting here writing this apology I’d be out taping teabags to my tri-corner hat and knocking the cow dung off of my pitchfork for an upcoming rally at the Murfreesboro City Hall… there’s a rumor they want to build one of those Mosque things here in God’s Country, and we all know what THAT means.
    Home grown terrorist suspect, eh? Got me there, man. My worst offense so far was a bounced check at a Lowe’s due to my X- wife’s idiotic bookkeeping and a tendency on my part to trust banks to cover such things on the second pass. Other than that, my life is rated G, bring Grams and the kids.

  4. admin says:

    1. Who said anything about “non-lethal”?
    2. Got an ex-wife up your way now married to one of those snake handler missionaries. He’s a charming guy, if you like your redneck Baptist fuckballs to have three teeth, evil intent and toxic blood. The ex tells me she moved up.
    3. I’m headed to a meeting that will take all day and into the night. But as soon as I get a chance, I’m tuning in to your site to make trouble for you. My intentions are not trouble oriented, things just seem to work that way.
    4. Fuck Rick Perry.

  5. Tim says:

    squatlo sent me and I’ll get even with him.;)

  6. admin says:

    What did you ever do to the Squatster to deserve me? I’d feel sorry for you, but… Maybe I can help. In my regular psycho therapy sessions, those not Wonderella-related, I’m learning to take responsibility for my own actions. Now I’m thinking that maybe it’s all Squatlo’s fault. Fuck Squatlo?

  7. Chanel bag says:

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