We’ve Been Neglecting Each Other

And yes, I’m talking to you.   You know who you are.  We’ve been acting like neither one of us matters.

How sad is that?   And we both know that’s not true.   We have a special bond, o so I thought.  We’ve been here for each other for more than three years now.   Quid pro quoing it.  You come here to laugh or cry or rage against my mental machine.  You’d even get mad at my unflinching political views that you view as completely “head up one’s ass”. 

Remember???   You’d call me a stupid, Republican bitch and I’d retort by questioning your testicular fortitude simply for being a pablum swallowing, George Soros worshipping Liberal petri dish??

Carly Simon sang it best–‘those were the good old days’.

What happened?  I used to post things with amazing frequency because I needed your input. I needed to know I could still entertain the masses as I’ve done for almost three decades.  My blog became my only outlet.   But I guess I’m losing my mojo.  I don’t post as often, and when I do, the posts, I will admit, are  hardly representative of the comedic brilliance (not bragging, just fact) that I’ve demonstrated in the past.

My readership is down.  People either got tired of my stuff; stopped understanding it or just got bored.  Blogging is a fickle mistress.    In one sense, you don’t always get out of it, what you put into it, so I could be blogging every damn day and still have tens of people reading me.     In another sense, you get everything back.  I always found blogging to be a great release.   It was ego food.  Even when I read comments from those hell bent on putting me in my place.

No one leaves me comments anymore. I used to average 20 comments–even on my more mediocre stuff.  Now, the comments section just looks empty and if you listen closely, you can  hear crickets chirping.   

I used to love to write.  I still do, I just don’t have time.  When I was out of work and unloved, those two things joined forces to create this font of creativity.     These days,  I’m  still ridiculously unloved and all alone,  but working.  At the end of the day, I just don’t have the bandwidth to sit down and write observational humor.

But maybe I could. 

I’m a lot like Tinkerbell.   She needed boys and girls to clap in order to grow longer wings and fly or some shit.  Well, I need that too.  I need your support; your comments to keep me going.  Otherwise, I’ll  turn this blog around and we’ll go straight home–we WON’T stop at the worlds’ largest ball of string.  We WON’T stay overnight at the TeePee Motel.   

I have never really asked much of my readers.  Now I am. 

I’m asking you to leave a comment.  Talk to me, commune with me. Give me reason to keep blogging.  Tell me what you want.  Be honest. I can take it.  Have things changed?  Have I not been doing my wifely blogging duties?   Have I become a mother and no longer a wife and no longer doing all those things I ‘used’ to do?   

Like giving headlines?

Bending over backwards for a joke?

Then again, maybe I’m not funny (that’s just me feigning humility); maybe you’re just tired of my crap.   Maybe I’ve lost my pretty new car luster and you’re looking at me like a acne riddled teen with a bad attitude.

Well, then let me know.   This is your chance.  Leave a comment.   

Seriously.  You DON’T want me to start divorce proceedings.  I swear I’ll put down alienation of affection as the reason why.

I will.   Don’t try me.

But secretly, and tell no one this,  I miss you.   Yeah, you.  YOU!!  You know who you are.  I want you back.  Tell me what it’ll take to get you back to reading me regularly.  Please…anything. Even if you’ve never commented before  and merely lurked…or stalked.  Stalking is OK.   I won’t think you pervie.  Now is the time to come forth.

I’ll swallow my pride and start giving better headlines again.




  1. Awww, poor Laurie, so mistreated. Well, I still loves ya babe!

    Blogging is a cruel hobby isn’t it. My readership and comments have sunk just about as far south as you can go and still be on planet earth.


  2. I’ve been a lurking-around-the-fringes kind of remote stalker for MANY years now. I really like and HAVE liked your material since I first heard you back in about 1987 or so.

    Indeed you are valued a bunch!


    My Darling..

    I haven’t been around since 1987?? I mean I was around and in the public eye, but not as a blog writer and not in a medium you would be familiar with, unless you lived in Northern Mexico at the time..and spoke colloquial English.

    But thanks just the same.


  3. I see that you said “at the end of the day”. I know you didn’t use it as that tired old phrase and that you were really talking about the end of your day but I can’t help wonder if you slipped that in just to see who has really been paying attention here. I don’t think I’ve ever missed a single post. You’re right though, I should comment more often.


    I LOVE that you know how much I hate that phrase when used as often as it is. And yes, you’re so right…I DID mean that literally at the end pf a long goddamn day.

    How I DO love you, My G MAN!! I love how you have taken the time to know who I am and who I’m not. You got in it and rolled around. hotou



  4. Hey, Laurie – You don’t have to promise to give good headlines anymore. That was never the main thrust anyway. Just keep sayin’ the stuff that you mean like you really mean it. We will get it- we haven’t gone anywhere. You neglect us a little and we do the same. Life changes. But the real thing is still there. So just keep opening up and probing. Touch that deep inside us – what is that? Cockles? Reach out and touch our cockles – tickle ’em. And do that little swirley thing at the end. We’re still here – not going anywhere. Kinda like flannel sheets. Worn, but warm. Don’t look that great anymore, but make you feel good. Comfortable. We’re here…


    Ah Gus.. I know you’re new to my obnoxious ways and means here in Laurieland (or rather, “blogdom”), but I already love you like my luggage and of course, something responsive that’s plugged in.


  5. Hey,

    been a long time reader thru’ rss feeds so never really “onsite”. But laurieland is always right there, just not too close and never too far.

  6. I have learned a lot from you, you are damnd right when you say that you write for us and we don´t even add a comment here, many times i find my self thinking how much you write and you are always damn write, I do enjoy reading your posts, sometimes it is owed to much work that I cannot read every thing, that´s all Laurie. I don´t wanna u stop writing, i don´t wanna you stop, lol, sorry Laurie, i promise i´ll come here more often.

  7. Sorry for my “misrecollection.” When did you start at KLOL?


    Gee, Robbie…I’m always amazed that anyone can even still remember me on KLOL.

    I worked as a Features Reporter and did a lot of really strange stuff on KTRH which was KLOL sister station. It was the spring of 1990 and I was recruited to come to Houston from San Antonio. I had wanted to work with S&P since first hearing them as an example of “blue humor” back in a radio class in college ten years earlier. I had no idea they were in Houston at the time, much less on KLOL. But in retrospect, it kind of seems like fate and destiny played a hand in this unholy radio marriage.

    Stevens would hear my stuff on the air and thought I was funny. They asked me to sit in for Lanny or Martha (can’t remember) while they were on vacation once week. That was in 1992, I think and I became an extended part of the show from mt cubicle at KTRH. They’d call me and do extemporaneous bits with me…I’d be a Madam in New Orleans or a lesbian lumberjack in Seatlle or God knows what else. Whem Martha left in 1994, they brought me on fulltime.

    It was the best/worst time I ever had. I used to date a pilot belonging to your storied company. That relationship helped contribute to everything I want to forget about that show.

    I ain’t bitter or nuthin’.

    Thanks for reading, Robert. Thanks for commenting and for asuaging my embattled ego.l But answer a question please–if you read my blog wi th any degree of regularity, what would you like to read more of? My silly crap–that crazed satire and/or parody? Simple observational humor? Or that serious self indulgement crap in which I self psycho-analyze at your expense???

    Thanks again. Seriously. I appreciate your input very much.

    All the best,

  8. Ah, Laurie – glad to know that I’m just old baggage for ya. And here I was thinkin’ that I’m just old flannel sheets – hey, I’m more durable than I thought. In response to your request for input from Robert – I like all your posts. They tickle my fancy. …of course I’m new to your comely ways & means…


    You know how to appeal to this poor country girls heart, dontcha cowboy.

    But, by the light of Ma’s kerosene lamp and the heat generated from the cookin’ fire, I was able to engage in fancy book learnin’ and thanks to a piece of coal and the back of Pa’s shovel, I learnt me how to cypher and write ly letters and then I learnt me some big words like “comely”. That too tickles my fancy…if that’s the current euphamism to which the kids have ascribed. As an oldster of 51, I’m no longer hip or certain of anything.

    I would imagine that you and I have a very similiarly skewed view of life. I can also only imagine why. Though the specifics don’t really matter, I will admit that I selfishly take comfort in knowing I’m not the only one who sees life in the vibrancy of Technicolor and at times as it really is, in the muted, often uninspired sepia tones that discolor everything.

    Sometimes you get the NBC peacock in full preen; other times we get his banal, mundane peahen and the WB.

    Life is like that, you know.


  9. I thought the “All New Click-a-Hubby” was good. That would be “satire,” I would imagine, but perhaps lapsing toward the “observational”? (Yikes!)

    “To Sit or Not To Sit” was good, so that would be “observational”?

    Same for the “Parenting Test”?

    Looks like I am leaning toward favoring the observational with a periodic dose of satire / parody thrown in for good measure. Have a fine day, diosa.


    Diosa????? Color this burgeoning nihilist impressed! And considering my “radio gods” pedigree, thank you.


  10. I’ve called you stupid. Hell I’ve opened 50 lb boxes of mozzarella (that I then had to stock, BTW) just to make signs that called you a Hooker. I capitalize that out of the utmost respect. But who shows up at my site? Or should I ask, who DOESN’T show up at my site? Nevermind my site is down. Maybe if more people showed up…

    I would never call you Republican bitch, because we both know I’m a God fearing, right thinking son of the North. Slathering lunatic would be more my style. Can you show up at my bar on a night when I’m NOT working? Oh wait, that would be too hard. That would lead to verbal intellectual sparring and we both know how much we hate that. No, that could not be permitted to occur. I miss my intellectual Joe Lewis. Take care and I will see you soon. Well, not if I see you coming 😉


    I miss you, too Jacob…but you always work! I mean, I’m happy that you do; that you are once again a contributing member of a police society, but you are a short order fool!!!

    How am I suppose to exercise my smart assitude if no one is there to appreciate it or think me pithy and clever? It’s like that tree falling in a forest thing..is there any audience to it all, then? Who knows? Am I smart or funny if there’s no one to revel in my brilliance and wit?

    I know you think me normal. As do I. Others will listen to us and hear me and my fancy lexicon and think there’s witchery in my family. To which you would defend me saying “Necromancy IS only on her Mama’s side!” Truth is, I have little knowledge of such things, and prefer not to meddle with the morbid mysteries of the macabre.

    Even at Nick’s where I’m convinced the womam’s restroom is indeed a portal to malevolent netherworld.

    Ah, Jakie….you’re the only one in the reading this comment who can truly understand the treberous nature of our relationship.

    I will miss you once you start taking cooking classes at the Escoffier.

    Or Denny’s…whichever comes first.


  11. I know the feeling all too well. It’s like inviting someone to hang with you, and no one responds. Feels like a knife in the gut.

    BTW, I’m here. I read your blog on my email.


    It’s been a strange couple of days, Mel. I’m usually not this needy, but today I am. I hate when I’m so publically vulnerable, but please know that I didn’t necessarily make a plea for comments just to have my ego stroked. No, I really want people to tell me what they want more or less of in terms of content. I don’t want to spin my wheels if the majority wants more humor….or less self absorbant drivel when I’m forced to deal with a life lesson that ultimately has only resulted in adding more ass fat to my person.


  12. Just change the last lines like so…should work…

    “I’ll swallow — —– and start giving better head—–. (again)”


    Just kidding!


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