Madison & Tanner: The Year in Review!!

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OMG!! Another year has CAREENED to a CLOSE!! Why is FATHER TIME such a STICKLER about SCHEDULING?!?! I mean REALLY?? Would it KILL the OLD BUTT TRUMPET to hit the SNOOZE BUTTON occasionally?? But there I go AGAIN!! Off on a ROAD trip to DIGRESSIONVILLE!! Crowding into the SPOTLIGHT that belongs to my ADORABLE SUCKLINGS little MADISON and little TANNER!!!! What a YEAR they HAVE HAD!!! HOLY MOLY!! There aren’t enough BIG CHIEF TABLETS in the WORLD to list all of the AMAZING things those AMBROSIAL ANKLEBITERS got UP TO!!! Now, I don’t want to be ACC– USED of being one of “THOSE” parents, but how can I RESIST a little CROWING?? Just you FEAST your SOON-TO-BE-ASTONISHED eye balls on THIS SYLLABUS of SUPERBNESS:


Overcoming a field of over thirteen competitors, little Madison brought home the Blue Ribbon at the All-City Absinthe Gaiety-Guzzle and Thaumatological Hoodang.


Right after Valentine’s Day, my seraphic siblings were evicted from the Focus on the Family Youth Day Weiner Roast after spiking the Hi-C punch with the fatty, psychedelic secretions of the Colorado River toad (Bufo alvarius), whereupon the pietistic picnickers declared the event Christ- and Clothing-Optional, before transacting a heteromorphic, yet undeniably peppy, bunny hop to a mash-up of Philip Glass’ best college fight songs.


After a successful Kickstarter campaign, little Tanner launched, a 501(c)(3) dedicated to celebrating and promoting the vital role of artisanal contraceptives in the American arts.


Not to be outdone, little Madison put together her own online financing program, and was able to release her patented flavor enhancer and stomach bile reducer—Bil-i-Yes! (Hint: Try it on steamed pangolin!)


Just in time for spring, little Madison and little Tanner teamed up again, to produce, direct and star in their original two-person musical: The Comedy Capers of Bubo and Pock.


And I sighed in relief when, in June, little Tanner settled his longtime feud with Jimmy and Janey Axewhacker from across the street, through a clever amalgamation of line dancing, mollusk-scented myrrh, the lost journals of Fred Biletnikoff, and a cordless angle grinder.


As part of our city’s Independence Day festivities, little Madison moderated a debate centered upon the topic: Revolutionary Parables: Are Foodie Blogs Sources of Unearned Self- Esteem? Representing the Pro side was Bristol Palin, while the Con position was defended by a short length of PVC tubing.


The bidding was intense, but when all was said and done Quentin Tarantino snapped up the movie rights to little Tanner’s syndicated e-comic, “Use Dirty Words to Mask Your Superficiality.” Tarantino’s publicist stated that the purchase was made “ironically,” but was unavailable for further comments after being beaten to death by the ghost of Moms Mabley.


In a big month for little Madison, she solved Fermat’s final theorem, and then, at the press conference, caused heads to turn when she presented her findings to the editorial staff at TMZ, all of whom promptly died in wailing agony as their skulls exploded from what a TMZ spokesperson angrily labeled “arithmetical hectoring,” but which an unaffiliated observer characterized as an “opportune influx of smart.”


Ramping up the Wow-Meter right into the red zone, little Tanner embarked on a decoupage spree—photos from classic phrenology newsletters, action shots from last year’s Plankton Derby, bits of graveyard lace, a swatch of leopard skin donated by the Women of Mount Cithaeron, the bullet Barney Fife carried in his shirt pocket, three mummified neon tetras, and a hint of beet juice in the glue, all arranged to perfection on a sheet of imported sneezewood. Lovely!


Working independently, my lovebugs next sparked viral social media rumors of a forthcoming reality TV re-imagining of the Ice Capades, featuring the combined participation of the Kardashians, the Hiltons, and all 740 Duggars.


And then, the coup de grâce: Using genetic matter obtained via a clandestine cheek swab, a tangled ball of fishing lures, a nodule of unidentifiable roadkill, a jug of Night Train, and an Easy-Bake Oven, my diminutive daredevils successfully replicated Anne Coulter’s vagina.

OMG!!! I can SCARCELY CATCH MY BREATH!! And I can’t EVEN IMAGINE what they have IN STORE FOR 2016!! OMG!!!


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