I’m going to do something a little bit different today, because I’m in need of a little bit of levity, for one thing, and because my head feels like it’s stuffed full of moldy spaghetti, for another.

(Did you like that visual? That’s why I make the big bucks, people. Stunning imagery, artisan-crafted to render you speechless. And a little bit nauseated.)

Anyway, I thought today you could help my post, because I’m all about the giving and whatnot, but today I could use a little bit of help. And also because no one doesn’t love a Mad Lib, except maybe people who are sticklers about that whole double-negative thing. (Again, with the writing mastery! Don’t hate me because I’m the second coming of Hemingway!)

So here we go. Feel free to print this out and play with all of your friends. Good, clean party fun, right here.

The Freelancer

Once upon a time, there was a [adjective] freelancer. She lived in a [adjective] [noun] and her life was pretty [adjective]. During the day she [verb ending in -ed] really [adjective] on her freelance [plural noun], and then when her [number] kid(s) got home from [location] each afternoon she spent the rest of the day [verb ending in -ing] them to [location].

Everything was just [adjective], until one day the freelancer came down with [illness]. Oh [interjection]! The [adjective] thing to do when you’re feeling [adjective] is to stay home and [verb]. Of course, when you [verb] for [person], you don’t get [plural noun]. So the [adjective] freelancer had to keep [verb ending in -ing], even though she felt like [something gross]. So she sat at her [noun] and [verb ending in -ed] as [adverb] as she could manage.

She used up [amount] of the [plural noun] during the [time of day], and then her kid(s) came home and she had to [verb] them with their [noun], take them to [noun], and [verb] dinner. After they went to [noun] she had to finish all of the [noun] she’d been too [adjective] to deal with earlier. “Wow,” she said, [verb ending in -ing] her [body part] [adverb], being a freelancer sure is [adjective]!”

Writing that didn’t actually do a thing for my cold, but it is harder to be annoyed about having to work when I’m sick when I consider that the alternative could involve “belly dancing for the Pope” (wherein you don’t get “toenails”) or “trumpeting my elbow wildly.” Right? Right.

Carry on.