Erma Does Not Live Here!

Look closely

First some Texas chick sees the Virgin Mary on an ironing board and then Ryland sees Jesus in a Perez Hilton pic. I was beginning to feel left out, so I did what I always do when I’m feeling like a failure.

I lit an Angel Kisses Village Candle, popped open a tub of my favorite frosting and I asked Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, to help a sister out.

Just as I finished off the last finger full of Betty Crocker Cream Cheese, feeling still all empty and forlorn and what not, I reached for a MoonPie to soothe my soul and BAM! There she was!

If you look closely, you might see her as well. It’s a sign. I know it. I think it means I’m supposed to marry someone. Or divorce someone. Or get a boob job.

Note to KK: Please endorse a check in the amount of One Cotrillion Dollars to that bitch Emeril as I used his word BAM without express written consent. Make that Two Cotrillion Dollars.

As a rule, when someone I meet on the internet asks me to fly hundreds of miles to meet them, I say no.  Why I can’t make that a rule when someone asks me to marry them remains a mystery.  The two other chicks with whom I co-author this blog, Ry & KK, I met on the internet when the flashier of the two wrote me an email telling me she thought I was hysterical and that she would not rest until she made me famous.

If she’d had a penis, we would be married right now. Continue reading Only from the asses of virgins. (Wink, wink.)…

The first time I got married, it was for love. The second time, it was for money. Times three through nine were for love, money, tap shoes, Moonpies and half off a sub sandwich when I bought any other sub at full price. 

Hi. My name is Sher and I’m a serial marrier, not to be confused with a cereal marrier. I have never said “I do” to Captain Crunch. In all candor that really has more to do with his fear of commitment than my high standards. Continue reading I Have No Idea Where Your Hands Have Been…