Easier if...

This time of year would be so much easier if they invented one of those trees... like the grinch stole out of the town square- that folded up like an umbrella- ornaments and all.

I will no doubt be sweeping and vacuuming tinsel bits until Easter.

Fuck You, Part Deux

Let me take this opportunity to respond to your bullshit.... If you like, you can skip to the end.

~It is not to say that I haven't enjoyed your company from time to time. (Everyone needs the smart ass at the party.) My beef with you started growing at Scott's going away- when you felt it necessary to make 3 of the 4 kids there cry by being a big prick and basically bullying a 7, 9 and 12 year old child. When you were called on it, instead of making a sincere apology to any of the boys- you made a joke of it, said you were kidding. It's what you ALWAYS do when your big fucking mouth offends someone. "I was kidding. I was being sarcastic. What are you so upset about?"
I think that behind every sarcastic comment there is a hint of truth, and no matter how many times you swear it was a joke- somewhere in there is an insult. I am queen of sarcasm and back handed compliments.... I know what lies beneath the surface. It's not a funny. It's a dude trying to cover for some fear or social inadequacy, and taking it out on someone else. I used to do it too- now I lay it all out there for everyone to see. Frankly, easier than fronting.I pull no punches, and I make no excuses. If someone doesn't like it- no sweat off my ass. At least I am fucking honest about who I am. After "Hanging out for the better part of a year" isn't it time to drop the shit?
Sometimes saying "I'm really sorry" would suit the situation much better.... and if you ever hurt my kid's again, feelings or otherwise, I will fucking end you. This is not a veiled threat- I will turn your life and world upside down. Write a note to yourself- Calling a little boy a "Big Girl" because you hurt him with a football and made him cry tends to makes you look like a dickhead, not a comedian.

~I don't need ammo to get rid of anyone at anytime. If I wanted to get rid of you I would not have invited you in the first place. Does it really seem in my nature to not be confrontational? Think I have a problem telling someone fuck off and die, or eat shit and bark at the moon!? You sincerely hurt my feelings. Again. Being ass deep myself in making desserts, dinner and appetizers, and after spending $150.00 on one day's worth of food, I wasn't in the mood to have your stupid ass show up here and give me the same old song and dance of "I was kidding." The thought of it made me shudder. I am gracious under pressure, but even I have my limits. It was a way to get your fucking attention about your behavior towards me. DID IT WORK?! If I didn't care about you and yours, I wouldn't have gotten upset. Can't be hurt by something you don't give a fuck about, can you?

~I don't give a shit what you do at work. Nor do I give a shit if you have to explain to everyone that you acted like an asshole and hurt K2's wife's feelings, which tends to piss off K2. Nay, I think you will tell them "Chrissy's being a bitch. Chrissy hates me." Or spin it in some other way that makes you look like some innocent victim. To any who think I am a bitch- fuck them too. I am not in the way of giving a shit. Think you got that about me by now.
If K2 chooses to make nice with you- fine. That's his business. I, for one, will need something along the lines of a sincere apology... and a promise that you will start acting like a fucking grown up when addressing me... oh, and some time... a bunch of time. As I am still pissed off that you deemed my son unworthy of an apology in September- it may take months.

~I am a big girl. So is your wife. We can work out our issues just fine. If she wants to cuss me out and express her feelings to me, I am okay with that. Really. I feel terrible that she got hurt in this matter. She is fun when she drinks... wanna know why? She actually gets uninhibited enough to speak over your center of attention, spotlight grabbing bullshit. It's great. Not to say she wouldn't be great fun sober- she prolly would be- so long as we could hear her over you once in awhile.

~And now we come to one of my favorite issues. You wanted to force JPat to take sides, when he clearly didn't want to? Wanted to force an issue that didn't need forcing? What kind of a person does that? I think that's really shitty and shallow. He a sweet kid. So you should feel guilty about it- and apologize. Kind of like watching you smack around my kid brother to get back at me. SHITTY. That's all I have to say about that.

~Cards. Wow. Yea, see... it was fun the first couple of times. Then it got too serious. I told you it was too serious. I think your mouth was open at the time and you didn't hear me. (You have a fucking aneurism about jokers in the deck!?!) More than once people got upset or offended by things said or done. I went so far as to call dealers choice one night... trying to make it fun. We even tried to do a board game night once- to avoid cards and get you to bring your FAMILY with you. You pouted, and got your way. Well, fuck that shit, buster. I have had enough of the fucking cards-mostly the attitude that goes along with the cards.. Did I say it clear enough? If you wanna have a game like "on T.V." that's your business, but it won't be done at my house. This ain't TV and it is just a game.

~You clearly suck at guilt trips and proper victim playing. I am also not so receptive to same. If you want a start? Stop the pity party- I am out of balloons. How about a sincere apology for running that perpetual motion machine in the center of your face and hurting my feelings, and those of my family? How about instead of pulling this psychobabble reverse psychology shit to make you look like the victim, you admit you were being an a twat waffling asshat.

~There is nothing to convince me of. I accept you for who you are. What you are is an asshole. That's okay- I am friends with many self proclaimed assholes and bitches. DAMN IT!! Just be honest about who you are. If you call me friend, act like one.
I am convinced that somewhere under the big tough guy funny man facade you carry, that there is a nice guy- and scared boy afraid of rejection from others. I have yet to see it- and until you are ready to grow up, and treat me like a friend, and drop the facade- then I have no time for you. I outgrew that kind of person being in my life about 10 years ago.

Fuck You Very Much

Dear "You Know Who You Are",

Let me first say- Kiss my ass and fuck you. Now that we have cleared up the general tenor of this rant, I will go into more specific details.

Having put up with your ever increasing bullshit, I must say, I am not sorry for what I said to you. Every word was the truth. You do need to treat your peers like grown ups, and human beings with feelings. You are capable of hurting people's feelings. So I have zero regrets about how I responded to your bullshit comment. What I do feel bad about is your lovely wife. I apologize to her, that her feelings got hurt in the fall out. As you have seen fit to completely isolate her socially from me, I won't be able to pass along my regards. I am sure you did that because you are a selfish insecure little prick... God forbid she talk with me and find out that this was all YOUR doing because you felt the need to open your prickish little mouth, again, and say something stupid, again. I am quite sure you closed the IM, and spun up some bullshit about how I was being a bitch and told her not to come over. I don't suppose you had the integrity to tell her you pissed me off royally, and got y'all uninvited. Lie all you want- Karma will get your ass, mother fucker. So, go ahead, and cut her off from me. You certainly don't want her finding out what a lying piece of shit you are, and being told you gamble the meager salary you make online for money. Good call. I am just that spiteful.

As for you and your fucked up view of the world. In all the time we have known you- you have 2 levels of conversation, and 2 topics. There is the big boy talk- where you try to be funny or talk shit. You are not very good at it. Then we always can count on the fall back to the fifth grader attitude in which you deal with most everyone you meet. You are on your way to 30 years old. Time to grow up, shitface. There really IS more to life than what you saw on TV, or what movie you watched. Perhaps if you spent more time with people instead of that one-eyed mind fucker TV set, you might be capable of more intelligent conversation.

Of course by that, I do not mean spend every other waking moment thinking about, playing, or setting up poker games. I have a news flash for you- people who are not compulsive gamblers do not need to gamble to have a good time. When people who are not addicted to gambling play cards, they do so to have fun... a few laughs... They are not in it for a thrill or for the money. Playing with some stoic shit who thinks he is going for the million is not fun. Sitting at a table for three hours with some peckerhead who takes the game and himself too seriously is un-fun. (Especially when said peckerhead has the sense of humor and maturity level of a 5th grader.) Ready for the news flash? You are a text book case of addiction. YOU have a gambling problem. I have pamphlets from working in the casinos. I can give you a few. Get help, son.

You can fuck right off for the bit about "Zero Fun" because we weren't playing cards. I don't need to take nor give my friends money to have a good time. I don't even need to get fucked up. That's what friends are... fun to hang out with. You missed out on a really good time. Not that I care- but you fucked your wife over doing it. There is more to social gatherings than poker games and beer. Oh and as for the drinking thing- you don't have the sack for drinking anyways- I don't know why you encourage it in others. If you want to come over and drink- then drink... stop being a big pussy... saying you are gonna get fucked up, and then nursing a miller-lite for 2 hours. Just say you aren't drinking, sissy boy. This isn't a high school party- we are not going to pressure you, or think you're uncool for staying sober. We will think you're a fucktard for talking big shit all week about getting drunk then coming over to watch us drink like it's a spectator sport.

If playing poker is the only reason you ever wanted to be over here, if we are boring other wise- than good fucking riddance to your pudgy ass. Gee, I am oh-so-disappointed that you won't be around to fucking annoy me, hurt my kids feelings, talk shit, and bore the fuck out of everyone in ear shot with your never-ending drone about what T.V. show was great. Seriously- T.V. is fine- but it's fucking TV. WE REALLY DON'T CARE AS MUCH AS WE PRETEND TO. When people are trying to change the subject, or seem to start "nodding and smiling" the thing to do would be stop talking about TV shows- not find a different show to fit the new conversation the grown ups are having, just so you have something to say.

Hats off to you on removing me from your AIM, and your XBox list. (Let's see how long it takes your juvenile attitude to get you banned from Live for being a prick.) Do me a favor and don't try to make nice with my husband at work. Unlike you- I won't put my spouse in a bad situation in the middle. You may confront me directly, should you ever grow a pair and a sack to hold them in. But this is between you and me, buster, leave K2 out of it, or I will get in your face.

Get a life, asshole. Get a life and Grow up... do it for the sake of your wife and kids.

Merry Christmas

To my handful of faithful readers, and those just stopping by... I hope you have a Merry Christmas... or Happy Hanukkah, or Great Kwanzaa, or whatever it is you do to make merry with your friends and family this time of year.

Eat a shit load of foods that a REALLY bad for you, so you give yourself something to feel guilty about tomorrow, and make resolutions about next week. Drink a good bottle of wine and put your feet on the table. Leave the dishes in the sink after the 10 p.m. snack attack time. Spend too much money on shit you don't need, but really want, and worry about how to pay for it later. "Oh, you'll take a check? I thought you wanted money! Shit, I got checks!"

Keep in mind those families who can't be with their loved ones, and the people who don't have loved ones to have holidays with. Be as kind as you can to everyone... even if you hate them a little... And be very kind to yourself.

Merry Christmas, y'all!!!

p.s. My kids are too fucking spoiled.

Searching for....

Every month I get a total scream out of 1- what people google for... and 2- which of these fucked up searches brings them to my site. So here is this month's "You are a fucking sick twisted ticket" and/or "You need to get off google and go get a life" list... Of course, I have to add my two cents on them. You will notice I leave out the kid porn shit, as these bastards should be given a special keyboard that delivers a shock with lethal voltage to them if they look for or at that kind of shit.

**"topamax carbonated beverages taste like ass"** I know this is a valid search, but maybe "Tastes like ass" is not the technical term one wants to use to search for pharmacological information.

**"rear girl concert stories mexico ass crack"** Um... This one doesn't fall quite under the sicko thing, but something about just isn't right. Looking to get into a concert back stage... a band that likes crack... in mexico...?

**"how to tell mormon missionaries to fuck off"** Boy, howdy!!! If you find an answer to that one, (or for Jehovah's Witnesses)... please, let us know.

**"wife uses pussy to pay bills"** Feel kind of bad for this one. Maybe he was looking for a support group of some kind? Whores-Anon or something?

**"naked barbies rapunzel s daughters how i"** Uh.... Uh.... Dude.....

And my favorite for this month...

**"how do i get my wife to fuck another man while i watch?"** Maybe this guy should get in contact with the guy looking for help with his wife using her pussy to pay bills. I bet she knows a guy...

What's The Point?

I know I may come off as the world's biggest, coldest bitch here.... BUT...
Whilst flipping channels this morning, I stumbled across Oprah and Bono promoting an initiative called" Red". It sells everyday reasonably priced items and gives the proceeds to pay for AIDS treatment and HIV Anti-retroviral drugs in Africa. Now, I am all for treating the poor kids afflicted with this disease, those children orphaned by AIDS when their HIV+ parents died a wasting death, knowing that they are destined the same fate. I feel terrible for those human beings suffering with this disease daily, trying to live out what life they have as best as they are able.

I wonder how much, if any, of this money is going to educate the adults to stem the spread. Many of these kids may have been born HIV positive.... but it begs the question "Why?". Because the adults and parents, perhaps ignorant of the way AIDS is spread, keep carelessly and haphazardly fucking each other. A blood borne illness is spread pretty much one of two ways... Unprotected sex and IV Needles. Is the Oprah/Bono powerhouse paying for condoms, clean needles and educational materials? How about social workers, who when they carry the triple cocktails to these villages, also take with them a message to fucking stop it from spreading by not doing these things?

It's absofuckinglutely ridiculous to me to keep treating the illness and not stemming the well known and understood cause with education. If the people aren't taking the precaution seriously- then try harder. I heard at one time that certain parts of Africa are believed to be 35-40% HIV positive, and could be as high as 80% within a few years. How long until this uncontrolled spread makes it easy for the virus to mutate and become air-born? Then we will ALL be in a world of shit! As crass as it sounds... someone needs to get the message across to these people, from African cities to the smallest of villages to "STOP FUCKING.... It could kill you, and your family."

Answers

As only two of my five loyal readers posted questions, I feel obliged to answer them. This is one of those rare cases when you have to do the read more thing. Those that have come to know me will understand why....

~Way to call me out Annie. ;) She asked "Have you ever done drugs? If so what kinds and how much and how often?"
I have. Days long ago and gone by. I do have to say, I started my bit with drugs with my nose in books at the library, studying neurophysiology and pharmacology. To this day I have the binders full of notes, copied pages and illustrations I collected over those 5 months. I didn't want to go in blind- in case drugs did kill brian cells- or look like that on drugs.
I tried pot- exactly three times. First time- did exactly dick shit. Nothing. I was the only one sitting there bored.
Second- I got paranoid, and the third, I was drunk. I got so fucking sick, I still can't eat chili cheese dogs to this day; due to the allergy my brain developed after puking so hard the shit came thru my nose and mouth at the same time.
We (my best friends and I) had our experiments with amphetamines and hallucinogens. At no time did we ever do anything on a regular basis. We had fun occasionally. The true definition of recreational users.
Today I take my mood stabilizers daily, and religiously have for almost two years. I have my friendly bottle of Ambien for my chronic insomnia. Before these meds, the doctors ran me through a gambit of anti-depressants and mood stabilizers. It was ugly.

~Jane. Ah my dear Jane. She asked "What extreme things have you done to your husband out of anger? Well, and to anybody else. You know, like 'psycho' kinda things we do."
The most extreme thing I have done to my husband... Well, I punched him in the face. In public. (Newlyweds, and too much to drink) It was a bad thing I did, and I am glad he didn't leave me over it. Not my best moment to be sure... Worst part was, our friends went to a bar across the way, where my mother happened to be that night, and told her about it. So I had not only my own guilt to deal with, but her up my ass to boot.

I also hunted his ass down one night when he went out with his friend. By the time he got home I was so fucking livid I read him the riot act, then went after his friend in an all out verbal war, calling him a fucking drunk and loser... in front of his wife, and all the other couples.

I threw last year's Thanksgiving gravy against the wall, pan and all.

To others? Wow... I did start a whole website dedicated to trashing a company :)
I have left notes on people's cars for parking like assholes.
I did try to kick this girl's ass once, but the guys held me back from getting down the stairs.
OH! I had a 90 minute cuss out session with my girl friend's mom. In my defense, she started it- but I did call her a stupid godless whore and the supporter of a pedophile husband... etc etc.

Other than that, I have been known to get all too mouthy with the wrong people, and am famous for not feeling terribly guilty about it. In my years I have learned in my rages to back off and stay away from the human race. I tend to break shit. Don't much care at the time whose shit it is.

One of My Idiosyncrasies

~The single most disgusting thing in the world to me is listening to someone chew food. It makes me want to use my fork to pin someone's tongue to the wall. Those that smack their lips should be smacked away from the table- sounds like an old man sudsing up his old hairy ass in the shower, or a cow pulling it's foot out of the mud. Ever wonder why the words "mastication" and "masturbation" sound so much alike? (Bet you haven't, but I have.) Because they both have that wet nasty sound.

This pet peeve of mine has caused many a dispute in our home. If K2 is snacking on chips, I will leave the room, turn on music, etc. I will also shoot him the worst of dirty looks; if that doesn't work, I will cuss him out. Not that he is doing it on purpose, or doing anything wrong, he's just eating... But listening to food being mashed up between his teeth and blended to a gooey pulp, with the rhythmic popping of his lips coming open is enough to send me to the cabinet for a tube of super glue. In the very least he gets a threat of violence- such as the uneaten chips being stuffed in his cornhole, bag and all, to save me the trouble of listening to digestion begin.

It's just really fucking gross.... or I am really fucking certifiably crazy. Maybe both.

At this time, I am going to open the floor to questions, as it is something I have never done before. Post your question for me in the comments. Being the brassy bitch I am- I'll answer anything- unless it's fucking stupid. I will post the answers here, and make you famous.... ish.

TOO fucking funny

It is so unlike me to do the you tube thing... but THIS!!! This is classic shit.

Anniversary...?

It has been two months. Two months of no cramps, no bleeding, nor the messy other bits that came with my uterine female process. I have grieved a bit over the loss of my reproductive function, but all in all, it has been one of the best decisions I have made. As cute as babies are... to sit and realistically think about diapers, bottles, night time feedings, potty training, child proofing, and highchair havoc... There is no fucking way I could do all that again, while caring for the two I have, and try to keep my sanity, (what little of it I have,) in tact. It would be a one way ticket to a nice white room being watched by nice men in clean white coats through a little window in the bright white door.

Things are not back to 100% yet- as I found out on Friday- when I was carrying on the housework, to find out a few hours later that doing too much can still kick my ass up one side and down the other; leaving me sore, crampy, and pissed off. I am getting there though, a little at a time. So- crack a beer, pour a shot, and drink to me and my "hysterversary".

In so much as I would love to take the day to celebrate- my libations of the weekend more than took care of any urge I may have had to make merry. Today, I nurse myself back from the abyss of stupidity, and clean up the evidence of the murder of our sanity left in the house. You would think by the age of 32 I would have learned. So retarded. As K2 has said, "I am not drinking any more.... I am not drinking any less, either."

Freakishly Strong

After today, I am not going to worry so much about my son defending himself.

When it came time to put the lidocaine shot in to numb his mouth he started freaking out. It took the doc, two techs and me laying across his legs and holding his hands down to get him still enough for the injection. The dentist, as pissed off as he was getting, was nice enough to only put in 2 cc of the stuff, then wait a few to put the rest into the numbed area.

Just before all this went down, the tech had told me I should go to the waiting room... "Uh... no. Not a god idea." She told me some kids do better that way. When I promptly let her know they stood no chance of getting him to co-operate without me there... I think she mistook me for one of those over-protective nervous mothers who get all weepy at the sight of their kids blood or shrieks of pain. Silly bitch. I wanted to fucking punch her. She lost control of my freakishly strong child 3 times before I got involved, pinning his lower body to the chair. Silly, silly bitch. I got kicked in the tit twice, and my son tried to break my finger twisting his hands away. I should have let her take his lower body, and let her titties get bruised.

I can't wait until the next appointment. I think it will be K2's turn to take him... so that no one gets hurt, and I am not the only one in his young memory associated with the trauma of dentistry.

Working on it

I have an entry in my head. I have for 2 days... I am just trying to figure the right way to word it as to not sound like a complete tool.
Stay tuned. I'll get it together... eventually. In the mean time I have ass loads to get done between now and Friday, starting with a big unfun visit to the dentist tomorrow for my son. Last time he went, he puked with the dental dam and bite blocks in his mouth, and while laying on his back- it got every-fucking-where; made for a nice smell in the car on the way home. We'll be skipping breakfast tomorrow morning.

Cats and Trees

Two things that don't belong in a house... Cats and Trees. They are especially prone to cause trouble when in the house at the same time. I gaze lovingly at my pretty Christmas tree, with it's pretty lights and sparkling ornaments. Lo and behold, what do I see? The yellow glaring eyes of a Fat-shit cat staring back at me.

The corpulent piece of crap doesn't just lay under the tree either. He feels the need to climb his wide load up into the artificial branches. This is an animal that never spent a day outside in his life- he wouldn't know how to climb a real tree if he was running for his useless life- but there he is, 3 tiers up looking at me.

He is wondering if I see him, (because he thinks I am a T-Rex and my vision is based on movement). His fat fucking ass is so big, it is hanging down between the outstretched arms of the limbs he is sprawled across. Wrong answer, my portly friend... and I got the squirt bottle. His big butt was scrambling before I pulled the trigger, but I did manage to soak his paunchy ass before he got to the hallway.

What bothered me more... Pig-bitch cat was in there too, and she took off running like her ass had just caught fire. So Fat-shit cat is teaching Pig-bitch cat bad habits regarding the whole Christmas tradition. Heh... she hasn't learned what the squirt bottle sounds like- I'll get to hose her at least a few times before her stupid ass figures it out.

There is the tinsel issue to address. Cats eat tinsel. It's a given- like dogs eating cat shit- it's just something they have to do. Makes the litter box festive, though, with the silver bits stringing turds together as I fish them out with the mini-rake. When they feast on tinsel, they invariably chew off a few bits of green plastic tree needles, and I find those too, either in the litter box as decoupage crap, or fun little piles of cat puke in the hallway... at 2:30 am... in the dark... with my bare fucking feet. I don't understand why they don't figure it out- eat tree, get sick, but they don't... or they have figured it out and they don't care. Fuckers.

The tree is shuddering again- I get to go shoot Fat-shit cat with water and watch his wide ass run away so fast that he loses traction on the wood floor and slams, head first, into the wall. Now if I can figure a way to get him out even quicker, without him bringing down the whole damn tree.

Heh. I love Christmas.