It’s a difficult day for me today because a lot of the statements I’ve made recently have been misconstrued. I don’t know why this is, exactly, but it probably has something to do with all of the people in the world who are out to get me. The haters. The skaters. The Soup Plantation head waiters. They all want to see Miss Wendi go down in flames. But I am NOT going to let that happen, people. No, sirree. No, what I’m gonna do is set the record straight. I’m gonna rectify the situation. I’m gonna double up on the double talk and make your head spin so fast, you’ll wish you had a Dramamine patch and an air sickness bag clutched in your sweaty, little girly hands. So, you ready?
Here we go.
1. When I said, “I don’t like dogs,” people actually thought that meant I don’t like dogs. Ridiculous! What I meant was I love dogs! Especially the ones who jump on you and snag your cashmere sweater right before they slobber on your zipper area so you look like a pervert trolling the park for a quicky forest rendezvous. So adorable. But seriously, with all the poop and the fur and the non-stop yapping that drives a person to drink shots at 10 a.m., what’s not to like about dogs? OMG, dogs are the best!
2. When I said, “Jeezus, the Room Mom looks like Sasquatch in those yoga pants,” people actually thought I meant the Room Mom looks like Sasquatch in those yoga pants. Crazy! I don’t think that at all! In fact, I’m not even sure what a “Sasquatch” really is. I mean, sure, if it’s a creature with bleached blonde hair, huge fake boobs and a ton of junk in the trunk that’s in dire need of some Smart Lipo, then yes, maybe a Sasquatch does indeed bear a passing resemblance to Amber Jenkins, but how would I know? I’m not a freakin’ biologist! Don’t put words in my mouth!
3. When I said,”I wish the government would relocate the entire city of Dallas to a small volcanic island of the coast of Guam,” some folks actually thought I wanted the government to relocate the entire city of Dallas to a small volcanic island off the coast of Guam. Ludicrous! Are people really that touchy? That sensitive? Don’t they realize that I was just being “snarky” and “sarcastic?” I myself realized it right after receiving my first (poorly written) death threat from the DFW metroplex, so why can’t they? It’s like you tell 6 million people you want them forcibly expelled from the country, and, boom, they suddenly forget what “satire” is. Unbelievable.
4. Finally, when I said, “No, thanks, I’ve had enough margaritas” last night and people actually thought I meant I’d had enough margaritas? They were fucking wrong. (And I want my car keys back today, Janice. Today.)
So, I guess that’s it. That’s my spiel. That’s my rap. I hope I’ve cleared a few things up for you, but, like an Ikea catalogue or Gwyneth Paltrow’s singing career, I probably just made you even more confused. At any rate, I hope you’ve all learned a valuable lesson today: just because someone says something or writes something or texts something or faxes something doesn’t mean that they actually said, wrote, texted or faxed anything.
Especially if it was me.
(Note: Wendi Aarons doesn’t bear any ill will toward dogs, Sasquatches, Amber Jenkins, Soup Plantation waiters or residents of Dallas-Fort Worth. She actually likes all of them quite a bit. But she still totally hates that jerk-face Janice.)