Daily Mischief

Some days I don’t feel very mischievous.

I know. It’s impossible to fathom such words from me. I’m the Queen of Mischief, after all.

Rest assured, that day is not today.

By now you’ve no doubt heard of the cyber attacks by the Syrian electronic army on the New York Times which shut the site down for a day.

It made me realize that any one of our sites are vulnerable.

People! EEEEEEE!!!!

When it occurred to me that I could lose control of my websites, I strategically and covertly set out to protect my property. I realize mscheevious.com and lisajeydavis.com are no New York Times, by any stretch of the imagination, but this shit is SERIOUS.

Nuggie was the one to call this to my attention when he said If they go after the #DailyNugget, there will be trouble. He is SPOT ON.

If the Syrian electronic army comes after us, I’ll be ready for them. And heads will roll.

I want you to know, the use of proper grammar in this post is brought to you by the good people at Grammarly, who offer a fantastic  grammar check for all of your internet writing.

I realize I am guilty of misusing the English language and peppering my posts with – ahem – slang, now and again. I am also certain that with the sheer number of posts produced in a year, there are bound to be numerous mistakes in punctuation, spelling and more. The difference is, I actually know how to write and spell a grammatically correct post in the English language. I also edit, re-edit and triple check my posts whenever possible.

Judging by what I see littered throughout the internet (artistic license aside), I’m thinking there are a lot of people who don’t do this.

It disturbs me.

Because these people are spreading the sickness of illiteracy, and this sickness could possibly destroy the human race you guys! I’m serious! What will our children’s children think when they read the words “Srsly,” “Phablet” or “Twerking” in the Oxford dictionary in the year 2354? They’ll think the reason the human race is dying is because we forgot how to spell or communicate properly.

These things are always preventable. But when that big homeland security chief in the sky messages down to the control tower guy just before an alien attack with something like, R frce flds up?, how is control-tower-guy supposed to know he is asking about force fields? I would think he was talking weather, as in, “Are fierce floods up this year?”. You see my point, right?

For those rare instances when time won’t permit me to check my work, or I’m not quite sure how to write “I’m EXHAUSTED from seeing all of these F%$#ING letters on the screen” in proper English, I simply get help, (or hire an editor). Please CHECK YOUR WORK (or ask someone to help you check your work). We’ll all be happier. All snafus and gaffs will be avoided; human race annihilation averted.

I’m here to help.

Here is something I found and shared on my author page on Facebook, which illustrates this perfectly:

I broke away from watching “Riding in Cars With Boys” (which I never saw… YOU GUYS! Why didn’t you tell me?!) to take a call and chat with a gal pal in distress over her relationship with her man.

It’s what I do. I like to think I helped my best girl, but I gotta think that on some level, I was just doing the dance I always do.

Friends have issues in their relationship? Friends talk about it together.

I’m no different from anyone else in this. But what sets me apart is that I have a uniquely keen ability to cut through the bullshit and see what is really going on behind all the drama.

I know I’ve said this before, that it’s perfectly fine if you want to call me “The Relationship Whisperer” but that moniker is so overdone, and so five minutes ago. Now, you may call me by my new self-assigned Native American name “Dances with Couples.”

Before I begin, you must understand that when one lives three blocks from the sand, one finds rare occasion to go anywhere much further than three blocks from the sand.

Continuing with my “crack” induced story-lines, I thought I’d let you know that, yes, I was up late again last night (though only until about midnight, because I had a horrible sinus headache), and yes, I woke up at 6 AM this morning. It appears I am keenly adept at getting tired, and can actually get a little sleep if I’m feeling sick.  I now know that I was definitely sick. It was like someone took a baseball bat rapped in metal spikes and repeatedly beat my face in with it.

So this morning I got up and was still not well.  I worked for about an hour and a half, and went back to sleep. For four hours. When I woke up my lovely man asked if he could get me anything. My swift reply? “Chicken Noodle Soup from Souplantation.” I could hear the air seeping out from Nuggie’s bubble as he rapidly deflated. It wasn’t that he didn’t ask with sincerity, it was that I actually took him up on it, and that my request involved driving about fifteen minutes, way further away than three blocks from the sand.

He did it though. He ventured out into the wild of the streets of Santa Monica, on into Brentwood, and purchased a large to-go container of my all-time favorite chicken noodle soup. Ahhh, bliss. And even though I was eating Chicken soup, and Nuggie is a Chicken Man, he wasn’t at all skeezed out by that. He is definitely a keeper.