P.S. First, I must get this out of the way, though it really should be LAST: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH! Even though my “punny” nature INISTS that I use it for this title, being called “Kathy” just makes me cringe. My apologies to each Kathy all over the World. It’s nothing personal, it’s just not “ME.” And only Norman D. (with whom I’ve completely lost touch but I’m sure will somehow – Karma(?) – sonic psychic magic (????) – be touched by my mention of him), is the ONLY one in the WORLD who can call me “Katie.” I have no explanation for this.

And now, for your reading plaisir, my ACTUAL blog entry:

How do you become a FOREIGN GUEST BLOG AUTHOR? Indeed, a question that we’re ALL plagued with each and every day. Well, today is everyone’s lucky day, because I HAVE THE ANSWER: If you are really obnoxious and long-winded (understatement, I know) when you “comment” on other people’s blogs (and your own, for that matter), EVENTUALLY you will say something amusing enough that they will write you and say this:

Kate, that’s not a comment, that’s a post. A blog entry. Guest blog!!

With your permission, I will post it tomorrow, with due accreditation. [etc.]

You wanna?

And, conveniently, I said, “I wanna,” because I already had a quid pro quo entry in mind. It’s this one, by the way, sans all the stuff about “How do you become a FOREIGN GUEST BLOG AUTHOR?”

It’s all Terry’s fault, if we must blame somebody. She asked first. Hah – but I’m POSTING first.

Who is Terry you ask? Nothing less than the CO-FOUNDER (with ME) of the latest “Mutual admiration society” sweeping the World (she came up with the title, I concurred). She’s lives in a small Canadian town, is a brilliant writer, is at LEAST bilingual, and – I this is absolute fact I tell you – SHE ACTUALLY SHOPS IN HEELS. That’s very Jodi (except put “New York City” in place of “small Canadian town” and I can’t vouch for keeping the “bilingual” part in her case), really.

Coincidentally, it’s through Jodi that we “met.” I was visiting Jodi’s blog, and I left an rather long comment (yes, NOVELLA, but she ASKED for comments, so I won’t be too hard on myself for that one) about my life-altering and substantial ABHORRENCE of the Charmin® Tissue advertising bears (and that DUCK). I am nauseated at this very moment, because I feel obligated to put a link with commercial products, and, DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU, if you open that page you will be affronted by myriad images of those ursine atrocities. My great concern for Safety (as Kate the Safety Dog) necessitates my saying again, THOSE BEARS ARE ALL OVER THE FREAKIN’ PAGE.

Terry, a sophisticated and astute woman, was somewhat impressed with my great concern for the very critical and earth-shattering key issues in the World today (which I display by bitching about those DAMN BEARS). So she visited my site, upon which she was nice enough to comment and explain from whence she came (with wit and brevity – which impresses ME – that’s not to say I don’t want anyone saying as much as they want on my blog, I’m just impressed by people who actually EMPLOY the “brevity is the soul of wit” adage successfully. EVER). We have since exchanged emails, and I’ve hit her with a whole SLEW of comments on her blog.

As “slew” might be an understatement (SHORT statements I cannot do, UNDERSTATEMENTS are a different matter entirely), I had apologized in an email about my comment deluge. This was her reply:

The management is pleased to report that all comments written by Kate [HAH – I only publish OTHER people’s last names in obvious places] were successfully posted to Inner Dialogues. The management can also safely state that the comments caused general hilarity and no small astonishment at the sheer volume and quality of content therein. Please note that as far as we know, there is no length restriction on comments at Inner Dialogues. That restriction might, however, be a policy of blogspot, which we use as our communication tool of choice because it is free.

Commenters are free to ramble, spew, blurt, expound, elucidate, punditize, speechify and make fun of the Canadian dollar whenever and wherever possible. The staff at Inner Dialogues would like to warn you that excessive laughter might result in coffee spray on sensitive computer equipment, in which case commenters are liable to penalties that could include, but are not limited to, Lysol wipes.

Yes, I expurgated my last name and added the Lysol® URL. As for the omission of the registered trademark symbol, that’s HER faux pas (had to get her somewhere). Seriously (?), I thought that was so funny that if Canada Post was trustworthy, I’d send her a case of Lysol® wipes.

Thus, coming soon to Inner Dialogues, CRAZY KATE, the FOREIGN GUEST BLOG AUTHOR. Now – if Terry, being quite clever, as I’ve said, just told me that I was a guest blog author as the nicest way I’ve ever heard to tell someone that their comment is ridiculously lengthy and will NOT appear as a comment on their blogs, the joke is on HER. How, you ask?

Okay, I don’t know.

Wait! Here it is: If she DOESN’T publish my “post” and I just wrote five gazillion words about how I was going to be a FOREIGN GUEST BLOG AUTHOR (sorry, that must be SHOUTED and capitalized like the word “QUARANTINE“), I will look like an ASS, and that’s funny. Jokes are, by definition, funny, therefore if I make an ass of myself and cause humor that’s a joke and I say (as the ass) it’s on HER.

Oh – no one tell Terry the story about how I was IN Canada at a party, and, trying to think of the word “Canuk,” I called everyone “Snookums” (pronounced in a quasi-Yiddish way, of course). That’s embarrassing.

And NO ONE tell her how bad my French really is*, because I want to write an entry about my favourite Babelfish game and how it’s awkward it is when you understand enough to get the flow of a conversation (especially when it contains cognates – such as whatever the French is for “menopause” – I’m not kidding) when you are at a dinner were most of the people are ACTUAL Québécois and you somehow have let on that you understood, because they will ask you (in French, if I remember it correctly) to choose the WINE and try to INCLUDE you. It’s difficult to hold up your end of a conversation in another language when all you RELIABLY tend to be able to SAY are some of the days of the week, some months of the year, 90% of the La Marseillaise (which I’m guessing is NOT the hottest song in Quebec), snatches of some Debussy and Poul
enc and other French song lyrics, and, last, but certainly NOT least, “Je ne suis pas un ananas”. Everyone who isn’t Pam and everyone who doesn’t speak French can look that up themselves.

However, you may tell her the story about how you worked for six months or so Kelly Temp for A BIG FAT GLOBAL COMPANY WHOSE URL – NO – NOT EVEN THEIR NAME – WILL EVER BE PUBLISHED ON THIS SITE BECAUSE THEY SUCK. At this job I called all over the Country (and sometimes out). I kept track of some funny names I came across (“Lucky Rainbows” – LEGAL), etc., to pass the BORING time. One day, I got to call MONTREAL. Naturally, they answered the phone in French. I said, IN FRENCH, Je ne parle pas Français (I don’t speak French, essentially); I was SO pleased with myself.

A little bit later I made a batch of calls to California. Still feeling smug, evidently, I inquired after “Jorge” in the most exaggerated French-ish way possible (as it is, I’m guessing all y’all don’t know IPA, so I’ll improvise the pronunciation guide – AND I CANNOT THINK OF A SMUSHY ENOUGH WAY TO DEPICT MY PRONUNCIATION). “You mean Jorge [hor-hay]?” And, as if one humiliation calling a largely Hispanic region wasn’t enough, I proceeded to make another call and ask for “Jaime” as “Gem” (only as French-ish as you can make it). Jaime [hi-may] very politely corrected me.

You can tell Terry that one. It’s been a really long time and the mortifying sting has worn off.

*Kate, since that’s the case, why do you écrivez so often with phrases au Français thrown in willy-nilly? Well, Kate, that’s an excellent question. Thanks, Kate, I try! Your welcome, Kate, I try, too. Try, try, TRY! Will you please get back to the subject at hand? Oh – I’m sorry, Kate. It’s okay, but you know that you’re ALWAYS doing that. Doing what? Don’t be deliberately obtuse, Kate; you’re ALWAYS going off on tangents. You do, too, Kate. I know that, Kate, but I asked YOU a question! Sorry – you did, and I’ll do my best to answer it, Kate. Thanks, Kate, I didn’t mean to be snippy, but sometimes you do go on and ON. Okay – you’re being really hypocritical, Kate. I’m not trying to be a hypocrite, I’m trying to be constructive. Really, Kate? Then you could use a big fat dose of your own medicine. DON’T YOU LECTURE TO ME ABOUT DRUGS! Wait – now YOU’RE changing the subject, Kate! No, Kate, I’m addressing your INSULT. No, Kate, I was addressing YOURS. You are an ass. What about your big ass? You watch it, KATE, I’m trying to keep a PG-13 rating here! For the two people who read your blog, Kate – NOT INCLUDING YOU? BITE M….[cuts her off] HYPOCRITE! I can’t BELIEVE you! No, KATE, you are incroyable! WOOOOOOAAAAAH, Kate! DON’T YOU TELL ME TO STOP IT! But that was my question! WHAT QUESTON? STOP YELLING!!!! YOU DID IT FIRST!!!! Well YOU ARE ALWAYS DOING IT!!! There you go AGAIN, BIG FAT HYPOCRITE!!!! WHY ALWAYS THE LITTLE JABS ABOUT MY BUTT!!!! JABBING YOUR BUTT, HA HA HA!! THAT’S NOT FUNNY!!!! BUT IT IS, KATE. YEAH – LIKE YOUR FRENCH, KATE!!!!! OOOOOhhhhhhhhhhh – Kate -stop -stop! YOU’RE TELLING ME TO STOP, BITCH!!! Fine, ruin your OWN blog, KATE. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!! You warn ME about language, and all I’M trying to do is answer YOUR question. WHAT QUESTION????? That’s IT; I’m LEAVING. No, I’M LEAVING. But it’s YOUR BLOG, FAT ASS!!! That’s RIGHT, so GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE. FINE – ASK ME A QUESTION AND THEN TELL ME TO LEAVE. That’s RIGHT – YOU NEVER ANWERED MY QUESTION, FRENCHY MACFRENCH EXTRA-STUPIDE!!!! YOU ARE SUCH A HYPOCRITE!!!!!!! STOP SAYING THAT!!!!! NO!!!!!!! I’LL MAKE YOU, SO HELP ME, I WILL!!!!!!!! YOU AND WHAT ARMY?????????? I’LL SIT ON YOU!!! SO YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF YOUR OWN ASS, BUT I CAN’T????????????????????? DAMN STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!![Loud crash, high-pitched screaming, a big band (but not THE Big Bang), more screeching, moaning, moaning, silence. Thank God. Oh – I shouldn’t personalize the stage directions. OH YEAH? WELL YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER….]

The Management would like to apologize for any offense caused by Kate losing her temper, as well as Kate. When they were both sent home from the Hospital they explained that their whole fight it really much funnier if you read every other line in a very funny voice. And if that makes you feel like an ass, remember, Kate (not Kate, Kate) says THAT’S funny, so The Management would like you to laugh quite hysterically one way or the other. It’s a new law. Seriously.

Oh – and Kate finally admitted that she peppers her prose (say that ten times fast) with French because it feels… “French.” The Management did not ask her to explain, and neither did Kate. She just rolled her eyes.

Oh. Kate AND Kate have reminded The Management that EVERYONE should shut up before the whole LATE airing of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart will be over. NEITHER of them ever SHUT UP so you’d best just stop reading. Coincidentally, that’s why they talk to THEMSELVES. Everyone else is afraid to start, because they might STARVE TO DEATH before Kate is finished. She’s so draining, sometimes I think I should quit. YOU? What about HER?[World comes to a screeching halt, everyone let’s out a simultaneous groan of annoyance, everyone falls off into outer space OR [INSERT YOUR OWN DEUS EX MACHINA HERE]].