This Can't End Well...

So, I've been totally slacking in the posting department and I'm sorry. The truth is that I write plenty to post on her but not everything makes it through my filtering process. Why the hell are you people shocked? I do have a filtering system. In interest of proving that 1) I actually do write more than post and 2) that I have an actual filtration system (like a Brita!) here are two of the least disturbing posts that I chose to NOT post:

"Does anyone else find the new cheetos commercials completely disturbing?

What I basically get from these commercials is that eating copious amounts of cheetos does NOT make you obese, as previously believed. No, no, no. What it does is make you insane. My guess is that something inside of the orange powder conflicts with your neurons, adapters and chemicals in your brain effectively “shorting you out.” The result? You begin to see a tiny, smooth talking Chester Cheetah everywhere you go telling you to do bad things to people.

Granted the overly trendy girl saying “ew” ad nasuem was totally asking for it. But come on, wiping orange cheeto dust all over someone’s white jacket? That’s just uncalled for no matter how annoying they are. That cheeto dust is no joke. That stuff barely comes out of black sweat pants let only anything white. I basically throw a tarp down and eat on that whenever I choose to indulge in cheetos. I think its only smart to be responsible and hey, safety first! Right? If that’s the case maybe a bio hazard suit is more appropriate.

The point?

Those commercials are creepy as hell and seem more like they should be commercials for some sort of anti-psychotic. Because its not normal for a snack food to cause delusions. Isn’t that how that whole “Son of Sam” thing started? I’m not saying Cheetos caused that whole mess but you know, the whole “my dog told me to kill people” think is awfully similar to Chester Cheetah telling those enjoying his snack to do horrible things."

"

Is it just me or do most foreign languages sound like complete gibberish? I’m serious it just sounds like someone just making it up as they are going along. You know who is the biggest offender of this? Asian countries.

And while we are talking about it why do all Asian people smoke? Okay maybe not ALL Asian people but far and wide I always see Asian people smoking. Is it because they are trying to look cool? Because its not working.

Is that racist?

Just asking. "

So my question to you is fewer posts or crap like this?

That's what I thought

Self Esteem Boost! Feel Better About You're Life!

You know how sometimes you look around at the world and are all "what the fuck?" You know, because you feel like your life may potentially suck. Sure you've got real friends, Facebook friends, email friends and potentially imaginary friends (I'm not judging). But is it really enough? I sure as hell hope it is. If not, then I do in fact have the perfect product for you:


Yeah, it's EXACTLY what it looks like. Someone has created stickers that you can place on your iPhone that make it look like you have a text message. You know, for when having a tea party with your cats just isn't cutting it anymore.

Bringing Things Down for a Minute

1. PUSHES FOR QUICK INVOLVEMENT: Comes on strong, claiming, "I've never felt loved like this by anyone." An abuser pressures the new partner for an exclusive commitment almost immediately.

2. JEALOUS: Excessively possessive; calls constantly or visits unexpectedly; prevents you from going to work because "you might meet someone"; checks the mileage on your car.

3. CONTROLLING: Interrogates you intensely (especially if you're late) about whom you talked to and where you were; keeps all the money; insists you ask permission to go anywhere or do anything.

4. UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS: Expects you to be the perfect mate and meet his or her every need.

5. ISOLATION: Tries to cut you off from family and friends; accuses people who are your supporters of "causing trouble." The abuser may deprive you of a phone or car or try to prevent you from holding a job.

6. BLAMES OTHERS FOR PROBLEMS AND MISTAKES: It's always someone else's fault if something goes wrong.

7. MAKES OTHERS RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS OR HER FEELINGS: The abuser says, "You make me angry," instead of, "I am angry," or says, "You're hurting me by not doing what I tell you."

8. HYPERSENSITIVITY: Is easily insulted, claiming hurt feelings when he or she is really mad. Rants about the injustice of things that are just a part of life.

9. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS OR CHILDREN: Kills or punishes animals brutally. Also may expect children to do things that are far beyond their ability (whips a 3-year-old for wetting a diaper) or may tease them until they cry. Sixty-five percent of abusers who beat their partner will also abuse children.

10. "PLAYFUL" USE OF FORCE DURING SEX: Enjoys throwing you down or holding you down against your will during sex; finds the idea of rape exciting.

11. VERBAL ABUSE: Constantly criticizes or says blatantly cruel things; degrades, curses, calls you ugly names. This may also involve sleep deprivation, waking you up with relentless verbal abuse.

12. RIGID GENDER ROLES: Expects you to serve, obey, remain at home.

13. SUDDEN MOOD SWINGS: Switches from sweet to violent in a matter of minutes.

14. PAST BATTERING: Admits to hitting a mate in the past, but says the person made him (or her) do it.

15. THREATS OF VIOLENCE: Says things like, "I'll break your neck," or "I'll kill you," and then dismisses them with, "Everybody talks that way," or "I didn't really mean it."

This is a very important list and it is being posted for a very specific reason. The above list are the signs of being with an abuser. Keep in mind that not all points on the list must be "hit" just a few of these are symptoms of being with a very unhealthy person. Please everyone read it and forward to everyone you know.

What's Up Bitches!

I rock.

Top. Tier. Literary. Agent.

That's right bitches, I got a partial manuscript request from one of my top tier peeps. This has yet to happen in this tireless pursuit of a book deal. I've gotten requests but its been mostly from my bottom rung people. But this guy? Grade A Filet Mignon.

I'm dancing.

This is so exhilarating. I'm trying desperately to live in the moment and not spiral down into "what if" scenarios. It's imperative for writers to live in each moment fully. So right now I'm glugging down a big, fat glass of "woo-hoo!!!!!"

Why Google May Cause Me to Shoot Myself in the Head

So I was checking out my awesome/disturbing Google analytics (typo....but it stays...HA! anal) page today and apparently a lot of people wonder onto my site because they are searching for one of two things:

1. Bod Man Body Spray

2. Bitter Pudding

What does this say about me as a bloggess? I don't know. But I find it deeply depressing. Because see, I don't know if the people who are searching for bitter pudding are looking for my blog or if there is something awesome out there called bitter pudding and they become totally despondent upon stumbling upon my blog. I also find it pretty hard to believe that someone would have to google my blog name to remember how to get here since it is just bitterpudding. So either my readers are retarded (which I refuse to believe since I know all of you are sexy and have super cool ninja moves) or there is something out there called bitter pudding.

According to Google.....people who search for "bitter pudding" tend to be looking for bitter chocolate pudding.

I'm so screwed.

So to those who land here looking for a bitter chocolate pudding recipe, I'm sorry. I know that me talking about how much people suck and fake hymens may not be exactly what you're looking for but I KNOW I'm funnier than Martha Stewart.

As for the Bod Man people.....I have no words for you. Why the hell are you searching for it? Maybe you should land here and get taken to school a bit. Learn a little bit about douchebags and smelling like the old, desperate guy at the club.

News You Can Use! Women Are Bitches Edition

Miss Sassafras and I went and had a bounciriffic time the other day at this super cool place that has nothing but inflatable bouncy things. It was super fun. The plus? Grown ups could bounce with their kids. Which was awesome until I thought I was having a heart attack after five minutes of jumping. I was also the only mom bouncing and was getting the side eye from all the other moms. And you know what? Not my fault that you suck and are too self conscious to get in and get dirty.

After a bit Miss Sassafras decided she was Captain independent and wanted to bounce all alone. I was standing next to a group of woman and was being super polite and smiley and nice and they would have no part of it. I began to draw a conclusion that these women were pretty, jealous whores. Why? Because they looked like moms. You know, bad clothes, light colored high waisted tapered jeans, no makeup and“easy” hairstyle (read short minus product). Meanwhile, I looked fabulous in my stylish top and dark denim with my perfectly made up face and styled hair. Just because you push out a kid doesn’t mean you instantly have to start having a Chico’s kind of a day.

I started to feel really uncomfortable because the woman next to me kept looking me up and down and whispering amongst themselves. I try super hard to not turn into “Mega Bitch Jane” around Miss Sassafras. I’d rather have her believe that I’m always calm and a total lady. I wanted to turn around and step up and by like “What hookers? WHAT?” Then they would be all embarrassed and mutter something about liking my top and I’d be all “Bullshit sluts. I doubt you’re thirsty because you’ve been guzzling haterade. FACE!” Then I would storm away and start bouncing with Miss Sassafras all the while giving them the “I’m watching you” hand signal. Then THEY would feel all uncomfortable and pack their rude ass kids up and leave.
Who’s the winner? ME. That’s right.

On a side note if anyone should have been giving anyone the side eye it should have been me giving it to them. Their nasty ass kids were rude as hell! They would cut line and knock Miss Sassafras out of the way. My chicky cut line once and I snapped her ass into order quick. I told her to wait her turn and go to the end of the line. It’s called parenting. Meanwhile these hens kids spent the whole time being rude while the moms thought it was cute. Guess what? Maybe its cute NOW but lets see how cute it is 10 years from now when your kid is a total psycho and mine is awesome.

Again, I win.

Reason 4, 587 Why I Love Target

No one even deny the Target love. I mean seriously, when was the last time you went to Target and didn’t spend at least $100. Never. That’s when.

Today reminded me of another reason I love Target. I mean other than the low, low prices and cute, cute stuff. People watching. I was checking out and waiting patiently in line. The woman in front of me whips out her checkbook and I groan loudly on the inside. Such an action typically causes me to consult an calendar and make sure that it is in fact, not 1954. Today it was in fact 2009 but this woman was in her 80’s so who the hell knows. She could have dementia and think its not 1945 for all I know. Who am I to judge? (Shut it).

The old lady asks the clerk how to spell Target. Which completely catches the clerk off guard and she actually pauses to think about it for an unusually long amount of time. Here’s a tip – look at the freakin 4 trillion plastic bags next to you with TARGET emblazoned all over them. I decide to let it mentally slide because how many times do I forget my own zip code and age? Answer? All the time. So I keep smiling and waiting patiently in line. Then the old lady asks the clerk how to spell “twenty.”

The meeting of the minds begins.

These two Mensa members go back and forth for what feels like eternity trying to figure how exactly to spell “twenty.” I, could have, of course, jumped in at any time and assisted but where’s the fun in that? These two go back forth consulting with one another over the placement of the “w” and what have you and the whole time I’m laughing my ass off inside my head. They finally reach a consensus and the check is written.

So, just a side note…..if you can’t fucking spell do not write fucking checks.