Ok, I get the joke.

I say, "I have nothing to write about."

So you GAVE me something to write about.

But just to be clear: I can write about things other than people attacking my car in various ways. Sure many of my recent posts have involved people letting the air out of my tires or people sticking nails in my tires (not to mention earlier posts about trees falling on my car, and people breaking the windows of my car. Come to think of it, it's amazing that I have a car at all.)

But that doesn't mean it's ALL I can write about.

I guess what I'm saying was, it wasn't really NECESSARY to break into my car this weekend in hopes that I will update the blog more often.

Nor was it NECESSARY to bend the entire door of my car so as that it is impossible to close it fully.

A stern email might have done the job just as well.

A thought I had today on the streets of New York City.

I am fairly sure that the only thing in the world that I want less than a fake designer handbag is, well, a real designer handbag.

Errrr....yes.

I haven't written in a while. This is, friends, because I haven't had anything to say.

Nothing.

Much of this week was spent sitting at my computer and thinking, "You know I really need to tell my blog readers about....well....nothing. Yup, they pretty much know everything they need to know, really. I couldn't even begin to tell them anything else."

Don't know how it happened really.

But ask anyone who knows me. I'll have something to say soon. I never go long without having something to say.

It could be about bean sprouts or glitter or the Green Bay Packers or excessive use of the banjo.

Oh, who are we kidding? It won't be about the Green Bay Packers.

What do they pack, anyway? Are they those people that can treat the trunk of my car like a game of Jenga and pack fourteen boxes in it when I could only get in three? Is that what makes them professional packers? Or is it short for backpackers? Is their mascot a charming hiker with knee socks and a walking stick?

Yes, well I probably won't be talking about them.

But rest assured that I will be talking about something.

And soon.

Dear Person-Who-Put-Nails-In-My-Car-Tires,

I had a happy surprise when I took my car into the shop today.

"Fear not, Jill. Your tires aren't leaking," said my pal, the mechanic. "It's just that someone has stuck giant nails into your tires."

"Nails?" said I.

"Yes. Nails. Giant ones."

"Ah yes. Giant nails. In my tires. I could see how that might be the problem, then."

Don't worry. I'm not mad, PWPNIMCT (see, friend? We're already on an acronym basis.)

I think it's charming, really.

Frankly, when you were just letting the air out of my tires, I wasn't really impressed. It's cliche at best. I found myself thinking, "If he would just work a little harder and think outside the box, he could really do something special here."

But honestly? I didn't think you had it in you.

You proved me wrong. You have far more creativity and tenacity than I ever expected. Boy is my face red!

Here are some other positive things I have learned about you:

1) You're handy. I mean, you own nails, right? Probably a hammer too, since it's highly unlikely you could stick them all the way into my tires without hammering them in. Tires are tough! So you're probably good with tools. I wouldn't be surprised to see a phillips-head screw diligently drilled into my tires sometime in the near future. Perhaps you would even use a chalk-line and a t-square to mark exactly where you want the nails to go. Oh I do love a man who can use a chalk line.

2) You're environmentally aware. See, I looked at the nails and they were old and rusty. Clearly not new. You know what that means? You're recycling! Awesome!

3) You're health conscious. After all, a man who's playing with rusty nails is a man who must have recently had a tetanus shot. That's what I always say.

So, on the negative side, I had to spend $80 to get someone to patch up my tires. But on the positive side, you might be just the man I've been looking for in my life. It's not easy to find someone creative, tenacious, healthy, handy with tools, and environmentally aware.

So....errrr....wanna go out? Dinner, maybe?

But you'll have to drive. My car's in the shop.

Kisses,

Jill

I'm on the radio tonight.

You should listen, because they may come to their senses and never let me on again.

You can listen here at midnight EST tonight. Just click the button that says "Listen Live."

And then listen.

Live.

I think you can even call in.....

President Bush vetoed the war funding bill the other day.

I wish I could veto stuff.

I would definitely veto washing dishes.

"Washing dishes would be setting a date for failure, and that would be irresponsible."

"Washing dishes substitutes the opinions of politicians for the judgement of our military commanders."

My mother would say, "But Jill, you HAVE to do the dishes."

"I am afraid not, mother. You, after all, do not have a two-thirds majority."

And then I would laugh and laugh.

My life is going to handbaskety-hell.

You see, every day I get the dictionary.com Word of the Day. It is part of my daily routine:

First: Wake up
Second: Check Word of the Day
Third: Promptly forget the definition
Fourth: Use the word incorrectly but enthusiastically all day

But yesterday the unthinkable happened:

I did not get a word.

I was concerned to say the least. They have clearly not run out of days. Has dictionary.com run out of words??

Dearest Jill,

We are sorry but we have to discontinue our Word of the Day. There are no more words. We're out. The only words we had left were "the" and "bootylicious" so we figured it was time to hang it up. Throw in the towel before we humiliated ourselves.

You understand.

Kisses,

Dictionary-Peoples

A disaster.

But THEN, I went to dictionary.com to check out this tragedy for myself. And guess what, chums?

There was a Word of the Day. Just sitting there, calmly, on the website as though there were no problems at all.

You know what that means, friends? They HAD a word. A perfectly good word, to boot. They just DECIDED not to send it to me.

How dare they?!?!

Dear Jill,

We here at dictionary.com have opted to stop sending you the Word of the Day.

Frankly, we don't think you can handle it.

You've never really learned to use "thusly" correctly (as your astute blog readers have pointed out time and again) and we figure you'll probably just screw up our words too. It's like your dad always said, "We're not giving you any more toys till you learn to play nicely with the ones you have."

Good luck learning the English language,

Pretentious-Dictionary-Bastards

Sigh....

The story has an epilogue:

This morning, I woke up to find that the Word of the Day was back in my inbox. Clearly, during the night, I had somehow proven myself worthwhile.

Thusly.

How come all the child prodigies are artists or musicians?

Just once I'd like to hear, "From the moment he learned to walk, we knew that Jimmy had a God-given talent for boiler room repair."