Oh, hey there. Long time no chat. Where have you guys been? Oh, wait. You’re saying it’s my fault we haven’t talked in a while? Correct. Guilty. I’ll fill you in on the gaps. I got glutened (oof!). Got better. Got the stomach flu (double oof!). Got better. Made crispy chicken in a skillet. Now, we’re all caught up. That’s the really quick version. The longer version involves unsavory details, profanity and drinking my weight’s worth in liquids. The same pair of large grey sweat pants adorning my hairy unkempt legs. Also, I’m totally caught up on all the trash television. So, if you wanna gossip about what’s happening on The Bachelorette — I’m your girl. Don’t even get me started on the guy who claimed to be an Amateur Sex Coach. The whole thing just makes me feel really weird. Also, if you’re not watching Married At First Sight, I don’t know what you’re doing with your life. Probably living it. I should probably take off these grey sweats and join you. This chicken is a step in the right direction. Chick it out. Get it? Like, check it out… but, with chick, because chicken puns. You’re welcome to throw stuff at me now. Or, if you want it to really sting, just silently yet aggressively face palm in my direction. Good. That’s perfect.