So one thing Bro Bro and I did during the Tofurkey Day holiday was drink some California wine. It was awesome because wine is my new hobby.

Yes I’ve decided I need some so-fiss-ti-kay-shun in my life. Mostly because I recently figured out that Angel’s daily declaration of “Hänni, crack kills!” is not a commentary on narcotics and necrosis, but rather a heads up that my butt’s hanging out my blue jeans.

And apparently this is a common occurrence. Ref: my coworker who told me today—after discussing the Angel ass-crack epiphany—”oh honey, we’ve all seen your undies.”

And then I decided to change my name to Super Mario, as it’s obvious I have a serious case of perpetual plumber’s butt.

But I digress.

So yeah I’m just learning about wine. But Bro Bro has been studying the vino for a while because he lives in California. And Californians love the wine.

You know what else Californian’s love? Almonds.

Did you know 80% of the domestic crop comes from California? It’s true. I read that on CNN. There was an article about how some dude got busted for stealing 400K worth of almonds.

That’s a lot of freaking almonds. I don’t know why you’d steal that much, except if you wanted to make like 100 million almond joys or a massive vat of marzipan or something.

In any event, the dude who stole the goods is probably going to jail for being an almond thief.

Which is only slightly better than being a grape smuggler.

What is a grape smuggler, you ask? Well it’s not someone who sneaks around in vineyards. It’s a dude who wears his pants so tight his Christmas bulbs splay sideways.

And while you can’t be jailed for grape smuggling, a crime is clearly committed—a crime against fashion.

I personally think almond thieves and grape smugglers should be treated with equivalent recourse. After all, they’re practically the same thing.

Both are reprehensible. And both deal in nuts.

So there’s something we need to talk about dear hannihaus readers. And this one’s pretty tough so I’m going to cut right to the chase:

I am a slack ass.

The frequency with which I’ve been posting is pretty lame. And you’ve probably been disappointed. It’s OK. I’ve been disappointed too …

Not so much with this blog mind you, but I’ve been disappointed with other things. For instance, the war in Iraq is pretty shitty. The American health care system sucks. And one time I hit a link that said “Click to see Britney Spears clam,” but all that displayed was her crotch. Frankly, I would’ve preferred to see a mollusk.

But anyway, dear hannihaus readers, apologies are in order and I want to say I’m sorry. This blog’s your mistress and I, the author, have been a lazy lover.

… But that all changes today.

This afternoon, whilst lurking the Net I came across a little something called NaBloPoMo. For those who are unfamiliar, NaBloPoMo is short for “National Blog Posting Month.” Both based in November, NaBloPoMo is the little sister to NaNoWriMo, a program that challenges writing nerds to crank out a novel in thirty days.

While I’m a writing nerd, I’m too lazy to pen a novel. Instead, I’d like to announce my participation in NaBloPoMo.

!!!

That’s right baby birds, I hope you had your mouths wide open because Mama just fed you a big, juicy worm.

This is a historic day. I, Hänni of the Haus, am promising you, dear readers—that no matter how arduous the task, no matter how much it sucks—I will write.

I will write like my blog depends on it, because for the purposes of NaBloPoMo, it does.

Indeed dear hannihaus readers, the era of lethargy has ended and the era of industry has arrived.

The dawn of daily posting is upon us–For every remaining November day left in this, the year of our lord 2006, I promise to post.
…

But I’m kind of tired right now. So I think I’ll start tomorrow.

In thinking about what I’d write today, I thought I might blog about how Stinky Sphynxy woke me up this morning – I.e. with his little, scaly tongue lodged in my armpit, licking like I was made out of organic kitty kibble – but that, dear hannihaus readers, would be admittedly lame.

And I made a resolution yesterday. What was it again? To suck in 2006? Nope! I resolved to rock this blog, and that, thanks to a little audience participation, is what we’re gonna do.

You see, I was minding my own business, going about my day when – suddenly – I received the first nastygram of 2006!

It was beautiful. I called it “Fresh content –Poppin’ Fresh content.”

It all started innocently enough. This morning I was surfing the ‘Smack, and as is my custom, I talked some trash in comments. Inspired by a series of truly heinous Mariah Carey New Years pics, I was prompted to post that the singer looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

I mean seriously. Look at that pose and the white I’ma-bout-to-bust-outta-this dress she’s wearing and tell me you don’t think she’d go “hoo-hoo” if you poked her belly. I’m just being real folks, just being real.

So anyway, several hours later disgruntled Mariah fangurl, “Jennifer” stopped by the haus, and here’s what she had to say:

“Ok first of all I found you by your comment on CelebritySmack. You called Mariah Carey a Pillsberry Dough Boy…Have you looked In the mirror lately???? She Is a billion times better looking then YOU! I guarantee that ANY man would pick her over your four eyed horse face…Your New Years Resolution should be to get plastic surgery for your nose,eyes,and chin to look more feminine and to Lose some Weight..have you heard of a gym???? Maybe you should stop Blogging for a while and turn to Jogging.”

Mmmm k, Jenny. A few things:

1. You misquoted me. I called Mariah Carey a Pillsbury Doughboy. I’m not familiar with the “Pillsberry” Dough Boy, but I imagine he spends his days hanging out with his cousin, the dim-witted Dingleberry.

2. Yes I have looked in the mirror lately. It’s something I, and billions of other people do on a daily basis, because, you know, it’s comforting to see that reflection and know you’re not a blood-sucking vampire.

3. Do you really think Mariah “Is” a billion times better looking than ME? One billion is a big number. I’d venture to say she’s only 999 million times better… for me to poop on.

4. Where do you get off calling me a four-eyed horse face? You obviously know nothing about me, because if you did, you’d know to call me “four-eyed buttface” or “four-eyed fartface” –At least that’s what they said last time I had to endure such lame, juvie name calling. I was six. It was 1985.

5. Yes maybe my New Years resolution should be to get plastic surgery and lose some weight. The only problem is, despite your grandiose impressions of me, I’m genetically pretty small, and if I lost weight I’d probably end up looking like Skeletor or Nicole Richie (same thing). Now Jen, if I was getting plastic surgery to gain weight – say in those areas where I’m seriously lacking (*eh hem* boobs) – well, that might work out just fine.

6. Yes I have heard of a gym. Haven’t you?

7. Good suggestion about stopping blogging and starting jogging, but I think what this post has taught us is that we don’t need to toil on the treadmill in order to get all hot and bothered. For spewing your verbal diarrhea all over my bright, shiny blog, I thank you.
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And I’m spent. Tune in the for the next thrilling installment, dear hannihaus readers, where I inevitably receive tons of hate mail in response to this post. Huzzah!