Princess Pissant, Galileo, MHTP, Dubya and Other Once-Forsaken Souls

It may come as a surprise to many of you, as it did to Princess Pissant, that MHTP (My Husband the Photographer) did a bang-up job with the kids while PP was away on her extended GW (Girls’ Weekend).

Not only did MHTP keep KN2 (Kid Number 2) and HOB (His Older Brother) alive during the several days of my absence; they also were well-nourished – pancakes even on school mornings; I know because MHTP texted real time videos of the batter bubbling on the griddle.

And they likewise were kept in an unprecedented state of cleanliness (which we all know is next to Godliness) – real honest-to-goodness baths in the bathtub, which PP otherwise uses to store items like cleaning supplies, belts and scarves, and (just once) a misplaced package of Jimmy Dean link sausages – as opposed to Sunday swim lessons in a heavily chlorinated public pool, which PP considers ample children’s hygiene.

So kudos to you MHTP on a job well done!  Couldn’t have done it better myself.

So here I am back at the Office, and I’ve just received the most unexpected but definitely exciting news.  And here it is: the deadline on that contract that’s been hanging over my head?  Postponed!  Unbelievable, right?

But – unlike the word on the street about Jesus having a wife, which turns out to have been not true (I know because the Vatican said it wasn’t true, and the Vatican also affirmed – oh, about ten years ago – the notion that the earth actually orbits the sun, which of course had been in long-standing doubt) –  the rumor of my contract deadline being postponed is inarguably true.  True, true, true, true, true!  I am doing the true dance – in my head at least – here at the Office, which of course you all know by now is none other than a Starbucks!

And this exciting news means a number of important things, not just for PP, but also for humanity at large.  See, not only does PP have two more full weeks of uninterrupted procrastination ahead of her, but this development in her life is nothing less than proof-positive that, well, God exists.

Indeed, PP can now say with 100% certainty that there most definitely is a God.  And thus settles a question that has been vexing not only PP but countless scholars, philosophers and theologians alike throughout the ages.  And he’s not just any God; he’s a God who is wise and kind and who listens to our prayers.

You see, late last night, as I was eating the contents of one of KN2’s party favor bags from some birthday party he went to while I was away, and also watching back-to-back episodes of season one of Homeland – and yes, I know there was a Presidential Debate on, and no I didn’t watch it, so get off my back – when I was supposed to have been fact-checking and putting the finishing touches on my PowerPoint presentation that then was to have been presented a mere twelve hours later, I actually felt moved to pray.

PP prayed, and she prayed to God, and this is what she prayed for: I prayed that the client would call today, or maybe even send an email during the night, and that he would inquire about the possibility of . . . postponing.

Well, I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say: PP’s prayers were answered.  And just like Billy Cundiff in Sunday’s game against the Buccaneers, my faith – at long last – has been restored.

Okay, enough about me and God; here’s a shout-out to all you haters who turned PP in to the po-po!  And not just any po-po; the almighty Facebook Police.

Yeah, you know who you are, even if you have no idea who Princess Pissant is.

For those of you who haven’t been drinking the Hatorade, and who have no earthly idea what I’m talking about, grab a seat and get a load of this:

First, by way of background – in an effort to increase her readership, PP created a Facebook page, and then attempted to enlarge her circle of (three) “friends” by sending out an evidently unprecedented amount – save for Richard Dreyfus; check out how many friends that dude has!  And PP didn’t know he was still alive meanwhile – of “Friend Requests.”

Yes, I sent out the multitude of these invitations-to-connect at one sitting, and no, I didn’t know personally everyone to whom I sent a Friend Request, but I figured if someone didn’t want to be PP’s friend, he could just ignore her.

I mean, there’s an actual button you can click for that – IGNORE – on Facebook, which is genius if you think about it.  (And too bad you can’t use something like that in the real world; say for instance, when some kid is screaming incessantly from the bathroom, “Mommy, can you help me wipe?”)  Anyway, I digress.

Suffice it to say, I certainly didn’t intend to alarm, upset or harass anyone out there in the social media world.  But later that day, PP was about to log-on to FB in order to peruse photos of other people’s fabulous vacations and read with delight the subtle braggadocio regarding their precocious toddlers, when she was stunned to discover that she had been locked out!

Banned from FB.  (Albeit temporarily, but in today’s world, where if a tree falls in the woods and it wasn’t on Facebook, did it even happen?  I mean, that’s like being put in an induced coma.)

Indeed, right there for the clicking-on-and-opening in PP’s inbox was a rather snippily-worded warning, something along the lines of, “It has been brought to our attention that you have been sending multiple Friend Requests to persons whom you barely know. We suggest that you re-read Facebook’s Code of Conduct, lest you be permanently banned from the site.”

Facebook’s Code of Conduct?  Really?  The whole site is designed to enable two types of people – stalkers and exhibitionists.  And I’m supposed to read their Code of Conduct?

Anyway, whatever.  Princess Pissant was given the option to retract all of her outstanding Friend Requests, and thus remain on Facebook in good standing, or to really dig in her heels and wait for more snitches out there to surface and pull the cyber-carpet right out from under her.

Well, needless to say, PP is nothing if not rational.  Not to mention in desperate need of friends.  Or at the very least, attention.  Some attention.  Any attention.

So I withdrew those 361 unanswered Friend Requests, and all I can say to those people – aside from “No Harm, No Foul” or some other conciliatory gesture – is: you missed your chance.  Yeah, that’s right.  Don’t you go sending PP any Friend Requests somewhere down the line.

And in the words of one of our illustrious former Presidents – who incidentally did get reelected for a second term after a rather lackluster performance in another round of debates that Princess Pissant probably didn’t bother to watch either . . .


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