the lolitmeirl podcast

What am I doing? I don't know. I got some feedback from friend who listens to a lot of podcasts and he encouraged me to keep recording. I bought a new mic. I don't think it sounds any better than recording on my phone in the car. But I think I have established that I have no clue what I am doing. Like, literally, no clue. Anyway, give Nicolas Cage an Oscar every year.

In this very special Christmas episode that I'm uploading in February, I discuss the worst-ening of the holiday season. There's no longer anything good about Christmas time. Except watching DIE HARD, and maybe LOVE ACTUALLY (there are boobies in it). I gotta be honest, I forgot I recorded this. But I make some salient points about all the Spider-men/man(s) and Matrixes so I think you need to hear it. Leave a comment!

Kids are hard. I mean, they're actually soft. Like, physically soft. And I don't understand how. They run around non-stop. I literally never see my kids stop running. You'd think they'd be in peak physical condition with all that exercise, but they aren't. I sometimes do that Pillsbury Doughboy tummy poke to them, and, I gotta be honest, they are super squishy in the middle. Not a single ab in sight, much less a six pack. They're mentally soft too. Have you ever put a kid in a situation where they have to use their wits to survive? If I dropped my kids in the middle of a remote jungle, I'd never see them again. When I said, "Kids are hard," what I meant was that it's hard to raise kids. You have to feed them 3 times a day and protect them 24 hours a day and keep them from impaling themselves with scissors every time they think it's just, like, the greatest idea in the world to start running around on their pudgy uncoordinated legs with a sharp, metal, pointy thing in their hand. Like I said, mentally soft. Anyway, I love my kids. Here's an episode about them.

Trees. Do we need them? Sure, you can climb them. Sure, you can cut them down to make see-saws or napkin holders or paper (I think). Sure, you can eat their bark for survival when you are stranded in the forest after your Honda Civic skidded off the highway and crashed into a ravine because you were driving drowsy and you thought you saw a ghost in the middle of the road but it turned out to just be Demi Moore (who is, so far as I know, not a ghost, merely the star of the hit 1990 romantic fantasy GHOST) and both of your legs are broken and your having visions of your dead dog Ruff-us Woofwright and he's telling you not to eat the bark but you don't understand him because he's saying "BARK" so you think he means you SHOULD eat the bark. But do we actually need them? I don't know. And I'm unsure as to if we will ever find out. Also, Demi Moore is okay. She just had a flat tire.