Here we go again.
Hooray! David is coming back tomorrow! Hallelujah, I see the light! I'm fantasizing about high-five-ing him as he walks through the door, as I'm running. Where? Well, if you have to ask, then you don't know me. Do any of you remember that? "YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" the woman on stage at the Jerry Springer Show starts yelling at the audience as they boo her for having too many kids with unidentified daddies. You're right, promiscuous lady. I don't know you, and I sure don't wanna know you. Were these people for real? I've always wondered. Some of the plot lines were so ridiculous, but so incredibly entertaining! There was nothing I enjoyed better during the mornings when I treated myself to a sick day from the gehinnom I referred to as "High School" than flipping between Jerry Springer and Emeril.
Oh, right! I forgot to tell you where I'm running to. I'm running away to the nearest 5-star hotel. On the beach. ALONE. Just me and my 5-star buffet. All you can eat. Gour to the met.
What's really going to happen is that David's going to drag his disheveled self through the door, tired from a long trip, and especially tired from schlepping three suitcases all over the Northeast. Seriously, is it my fault that the prices there are so much better? And then I'm going to get stuck with two weeks of stinky laundry on top of everything else. And furthermore, I'm going to have to cook him different food than the rest of us lowly second-class citizens eat. The Prince has to watch his girlish figure, you know.
I really hope he doesn't read this. Love you, honey!
I gotta be honest. I love to shop. Online. I love workout clothes. I love to dance and lift weights. I love to play piano. And I absolutely HATE when my kids don't listen to me. HATEEEEE ITTTTTT!!!!!!! Phew. What a relief that I'm not deluding myself into thinking that I'm some kind of righteous woman who is too holy to enjoy material things. 'Cause you know there funna be a whole 'lot of those! Or men that think they're too holy to get a job, even though they're not particularly enjoying learning full-time. You know what Rav Arush says about such people? He says emphatically, "People, u'z gotz to keep it real! Be honest with yo'selfs! Take a good look in da mirror!" It's much funnier when you say it out loud. Try it. I won't tell. Only when you embark on the holy path of Finding Yourself, will you be able to overcome the obstacles that keep you from being the Real Deal Holyfield.
I gotta be honest. Again. I didn't understand Chemistry for the life of me. No amount of explaining, tutoring, or hypnosis had any effect on me. I just didn't get it. But that's okay! Rav Brody just gave me my foolproof excuse. See, I didn't learn Chemistry directly from God. I learned it from a Russian professor who bore a scary resemblance to Putin - both in looks and behavior. To this day the thought of his icy blue eyes staring right through me gives me the shivers. Okay, you got me. I totally cheated my way through Organic Chemistry. In my defense, "YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" I wasn't lucky enough to inherit any mathematical genius from anyone in my family. Not that there was any to inherit.
Thank God, no one can use that line when it comes to the Torah. Rav Brody points out that everyone, that means all the Jews, yes, including you, Anon, received the Torah directly from Hashem. That means that we're all capable of following its laws and living like, well, Jews. You can't use the excuse that you weren't there that day, or you just don't get it, or your tummy hurts. In conclusion, there really is One Torah for Everyone. One love. One soul. One people. Peace out, yo.
Attention, attention! I am hereby announcing my latest installment in my uber-popular "Garden" series, "The Iraqi Garden of Peace!" (Soundtrack playing hoots and cheers with a generous helping of applause. More like standing ovation, actually.) WARNING! My version is just as stinging as Rav Arush's bestseller, so you know what that means, right dear husbands? That's right! Just shut up and take it.
Listen up, hubbies. So many wives are really, genuinely suffering from your gross, less-than-appreciative, I'm the King behavior. They've committed their lives to you, and you don't appreciate them even 1/10,000th as much as you should. Lucky for you, Rav Arush and I have teamed up to set you straight and hopefully save your marriage. Okay, so he probably doesn't even know I wrote it, but Rav Brody does, which counts for something, right? I have just one more thing to say to all you married, divorced, yet-to-be-married, wishing you weren't married, men: YOU DON'T KNOW ME!! But read the article anyway. And don't worry - if you still can't manage to fix your marriage, you can always blame your parents. I do it all the time!
Have a wonderful week!