The Coffee Talk Companion: "Miss Scarlet, with the rope, in the kid's room."
The Coffee Talk Companion is an ongoing feature in which we dissect and discuss former Facts of Life star Lisa Whelchel's online journal entries.
Lisa snuck a post up on October 12th. We think she's trying to outnitwit us. Fortunately, our laziness is a constant, so, Lisa, you can post early to try to throw us off. We'll be commenting whenever we feel like it. The thing to know is that we will be commenting. Ho, yes, we will. Ho, yes.
As well, for reason you will soon understand, Lisa only includes photos of Clancy with her post this week. As we're not in the business of reproducing pics of someone who didn't ask for her pics to be bandied about the John Mark Karr-accessible Internet, we'll just include "funny" cat photos with our commentary. It's all relative.
On that note. Speaking of notes, let's see what our favorite lunatic has to say for herself this week.
Please forgive me, I know I promised that I would resume the series I’ve been writing on the different churches I’ve attended through the years and the influence each one has had on my life in distinctly God-ordained ways. Thanks in advance for understanding but I just couldn’t find the time to write one more thing this week.
Please forgive us for saying this is the best news we've heard all year, and it's already October. Anyway, we lost track of where she was in the church series at the first extraneous comma. We hope that she's distracted long enough to forget she even began to try to tell us about it. Will someone go dangle a shiny object in front of her? Thanx.
So for starters, I thought I’d share a little worship song I wrote, once upon a time. (Sorry, I had to dig through the archives of my computer files for something to post this week.)
So for starters, this is the worst news we've heard all year, and it's already October. Seriously, can we make like a Republican and blame our disinterest on alcoholism?
(Don't worry. We wouldn't dare marginalize a disease we've so carefully nurtured for many years. So, to get through this, we're gonna go grab us a scotch and Tab. BRB.)
OK. Hit it, Lisa.
Scarlet Rope By Lisa Cauble
Thankfully, my sweet daughters also offered to help me out this week. The other day, the girls asked me why I was so stressed lately. (I probably just snapped at them for some tiny little infraction.) I explained that I had made the mistake of over committing myself and now I was paying the price. Haven asked, "Can we help?" I jokingly replied, "Yes. You can write something for me." Clancy piped up, "Well, actually, Mom, I did write a little something a few nights ago when I couldn’t get to sleep. You can use it for one of your journal entries, if that would help." When she sent me the following file, I was completely at a loss for words. (And, as you can imagine, that almost never happens.)
First of all, "I probably just snapped at them for some tiny little infraction" doesn't seem like it belongs in parentheses. It seems like it belongs in therapy. Would someone please put The Mommy in Me on Medication? Thanx.
Second of all, we don't know if we should, in fact, skip the song and get to Clancy's essay or post the song. It's like having to choose between Phil Collins and James Taylor.
OK, we'll post the rest of the song. Here's a helpful tip to get you through it. Substitute "chorus" with "drink," and then, obviously, do so.
Chorus:
Lisa snuck a post up on October 12th. We think she's trying to outnitwit us. Fortunately, our laziness is a constant, so, Lisa, you can post early to try to throw us off. We'll be commenting whenever we feel like it. The thing to know is that we will be commenting. Ho, yes, we will. Ho, yes.
As well, for reason you will soon understand, Lisa only includes photos of Clancy with her post this week. As we're not in the business of reproducing pics of someone who didn't ask for her pics to be bandied about the John Mark Karr-accessible Internet, we'll just include "funny" cat photos with our commentary. It's all relative.
On that note. Speaking of notes, let's see what our favorite lunatic has to say for herself this week.
Please forgive me, I know I promised that I would resume the series I’ve been writing on the different churches I’ve attended through the years and the influence each one has had on my life in distinctly God-ordained ways. Thanks in advance for understanding but I just couldn’t find the time to write one more thing this week.
Please forgive us for saying this is the best news we've heard all year, and it's already October. Anyway, we lost track of where she was in the church series at the first extraneous comma. We hope that she's distracted long enough to forget she even began to try to tell us about it. Will someone go dangle a shiny object in front of her? Thanx.
So for starters, I thought I’d share a little worship song I wrote, once upon a time. (Sorry, I had to dig through the archives of my computer files for something to post this week.)
So for starters, this is the worst news we've heard all year, and it's already October. Seriously, can we make like a Republican and blame our disinterest on alcoholism?
(Don't worry. We wouldn't dare marginalize a disease we've so carefully nurtured for many years. So, to get through this, we're gonna go grab us a scotch and Tab. BRB.)
OK. Hit it, Lisa.
Lord, please rescue me
Or I will surely drown.
In over my head
I'm afraid I'm going down.
Clinging to Your hand
While the storm is all around.
As You walk on water
Lead me to higher ground.
Thankfully, my sweet daughters also offered to help me out this week. The other day, the girls asked me why I was so stressed lately. (I probably just snapped at them for some tiny little infraction.) I explained that I had made the mistake of over committing myself and now I was paying the price. Haven asked, "Can we help?" I jokingly replied, "Yes. You can write something for me." Clancy piped up, "Well, actually, Mom, I did write a little something a few nights ago when I couldn’t get to sleep. You can use it for one of your journal entries, if that would help." When she sent me the following file, I was completely at a loss for words. (And, as you can imagine, that almost never happens.)
First of all, "I probably just snapped at them for some tiny little infraction" doesn't seem like it belongs in parentheses. It seems like it belongs in therapy. Would someone please put The Mommy in Me on Medication? Thanx.
Second of all, we don't know if we should, in fact, skip the song and get to Clancy's essay or post the song. It's like having to choose between Phil Collins and James Taylor.
OK, we'll post the rest of the song. Here's a helpful tip to get you through it. Substitute "chorus" with "drink," and then, obviously, do so.
Chorus: