Seriously....Quit Preaching. No One Cares!

Well said, Betty my dear.  Today my faithful followers, a rant of epic proportions.  I'm sure it will both offend and bring giggles, but these are things that I feel I need to spit out.  They're blocking the creative juices.  Plus, I'm sure most of you know someone who does one of these many things, and are equally as annoyed by them.  So without further ado........

1.  Organic food/Vegans/Gluten Free (By choice) people drive me fucking crazy!!!  Nobody gives a crap that you spend thousands of extra dollars every year to ensure that your fucking bees didn't eat any pesticides off of that damned flower.  Food is food.  Eat what you want, but please, for fuck's sake STOP trying to convince me to waste my money.  I don't care now and I never will.  I will simply smile and nod as I eat my Twinkie covered in canned nacho cheese sauce, because in the end, we're all going to die from something.  I'm not going to stress myself, my bank account, or my taste buds out just to make you happy.  To the vegans, I don't care about the animals.  God, the big bang, Buddah, evolution, or whatever the crap you believe in put them here for one purpose.  To be eaten.  If you don't want to, fine.  That just leaves more delicious prime rib for me.  I am curious though.  When performing oral sex, do you swallow the end result?  Because technically jizz does come from an animal.  Also, do you breastfeed?  These are legitimate questions.  Please, enlighten me on the rules.

2.  Conspiracy theorists should be committed.  I don't know where you people come up with some of this shit.  I mean, I personally would rather enjoy a cupcake and a good movie with my kid than sit and constantly stew over what someone else is plotting to bring on my demise.  I guess that if you don't want to stop and smell the roses that's fine, but consider this.  We are all going to die, one way or another.  You will probably die sooner than most because of constant stress and worry over airplanes seeding the clouds, or how the government was involved in all of the shootings as of late.  I don't care.  I'd rather be oblivious and happy.  You seriously need to reconsider your priorities.  While you are busy researching the internet for ways Americans will end up in concentration camps, your kids are growing up.  Likely in fear no less.  Lighten up.

3.  Religious hypocrites will burn in hell.  Christian or not.  I don't understand where people get off calling themselves "christians" when, in my experience, 95% of them are more judgmental and condescending than your average gangster.  I'm pretty sure that Jesus preached tolerance, not judgment and hate.  I understand you have your reasons for believing that things are right and wrong, but please remember this as you are spouting about how God hates fags while standing in line at Chik-Fil-A......the affair you've been having for the last 3 years, or the money you stole from your job, or the porn you hide underneath your bed is equally as wrong.  I recall reading some shit about a sliver of wood vs. a plank of wood.  Having faith is one thing, but using your faith as a weapon is another.  Your hateful words and actions must do wonders for getting people to convert to your ways.  You catch more flies with honey, just remember that.

4.  People who complain about how bad their relationship is, yet continue to deal with it, then proceed to whine about it every chance they get piss me off.  If you hate your significant other, get out. I'm tired of reading/hearing about how bad it is when you bring it on yourself.  When you keep putting yourself in the same situation over and over expecting different results, it's your own damn fault.  Quit being a moron and find someone worth your time.

5.  Why do you let your kids call EVERY guy you date daddy?  Don't you understand how damaging this is to them?  Jesus, get a clue.  Moving 18 guys in and out of your kids life causes their spirit to die just a little bit more every time another "daddy" leaves.  You should get the douchebag of the decade award.

6.  Whatever happened to common courtesy and being polite?  If you need something, by all means please ask, but when you do, don't say something like, "I need a ride to the store.  Any takers?"  It is in no way my PRIVILEGE to take you anywhere.  You should say, "Hey, I really need a ride to the store.  Could anyone please take me?  I would appreciate it."

7.  Tlkng lk ths is annoying lolz.  I don't think this needs any elaboration you fucktard.

8.  If you and I disagree on what type of music to listen to or what TV shows to watch, guess what?  That's fucking normal!  Quit telling me I'm stupid because I listen to Seether.  They have more talent and money than you, so whether you like them or not, they apparently did something right.  It does nothing but make me dislike you when you rant and rave about every note of music ever written not fitting your specific requirements.  The brooding thing is okay to a point, but really, get the fuck over it.  Music is a forum that speaks to the soul, and everyone's soul is different.  Maybe something that speaks to me for whatever reason doesn't speak to you in the same way.  That's fine, but it in no way makes me stupid.  As for TV, I will watch what I want, when I want, and you can stuff it.  If you don't like it, shove off.  Not everyone wants to watch the same thing.  Try to remember that our differences make us who we are.

9.  Quit TRYING to make yourself look slutty.  You will only ever catch sleezebags that way, and you will likely end up raped and dead in a corn field somewhere.

10.  Your political views are your own.  Not everyone will agree, and you trying to convince them otherwise will never work.  People have their beliefs and opinions for a reason.  You are in no way going to change that by leaving a ten mile long comment on their status informing them that you believe they are wrong.  QUIT IT!  Voting is supposed to be a private ordeal.  Can't we fucking keep it that way?  Quit being a twat, shut up, and go vote the way you think is best.  It's that fucking simple.

Okay, I'm done.  I'm glad I got that off my chest.  Now we can resume talking about Kermit and rainbows.  Have a great day!

XOXOXOXO

Silent Night My Ass

Picture it.  Snow falling gently over a landscape of evergreen trees.  Nestled on hill is a cozy little log cabin.  Inside, we find the ideal Christmas scene.  Dad curled up with a Christmas story and two eager children listening to his every word with fascination.  Mom is making hot cocoa.  There's a fire going in the fireplace, and every ornament is exactly as it should be on the tree.  Such a beautiful scene. 

Excuse me as I laugh.  Loudly.

Welcome to my world.  Let's play picture it again!  Snow is blowing with the force of a Category 5 hurricane onto a road where seldom a snow plow dares to venture.  There's a house......somewhere, all you have to is listen for the sound of screaming.  Follow it, and let's go inside.  The kids have just gotten home from their Christmas party at school.....all hopped up on Mountain Dew and Reese's Tree candy.  One is screaming because the other got a Secret Santa gift and she didn't.  Suddenly both decide they are ninjas, and before you know it dad is pulling them off of each other like pulling a lion off of a zebra carcass.  Mom yells, "Sit down!  Let's watch a movie.  I'll make some hot cocoa if you be nice."  The kids quickly swap out horns for halos......until it's time to pick which one to watch.....Then it's game on again. 

Okay, movie is on.  Mom starts to cook dinner, in hopes that the peace lasts for the 30 minute prep time.  Dad is napping, oblivious to the fact that he has children.  Suddenly, mom realizes it's quiet.  Too quiet.  She goes looking for the source of the silence and finds three kids pouring hot chocolate into her purse.  Time out for all.  The night continues from there.  During bath time an entire bottle of soap gets dumped into the tub.  At bed time, every kid is up at least 30 times for various reasons.......then all falls quiet. 

The only reason a peaceful winter night at Christmas time exists is sleep.  Mom looks in on her sleeping children, and realizes that this is all she can expect from children, kisses them all on the cheek, and goes to bed.......just to do the same thing all over again the next day.

XOXOXOXO

Sir, you are an asshat.....

So I have this friend named Tim.  I call him Poppashongo, or occasionally Big Poppa.  He is probably my closest friend, and I want you to know that no matter what happens, he will always be dear to me.  I don't know what sparked such a close relationship between the two of us, but it is fun to have someone to goof off with, bitch to, get drunk with, and in general just have a good time.  Some of you may find it strange that my closest friend is a guy, but to you who do I say "fuck off". 

Anywho, Tim is a karaoke DJ.  I met him about a year ago when I went out for a night of karaoke with an old friend.  I introduced myself by dumping my drink on him, and we have been buddies ever since.  I call myself his apprentice, and from time to time he relies on me to help him DJ when he has double booked himself.  (Which I think is fucking awesome, and hope that I'm always his back-up.)  I go wherever he goes like a faithful dog, and we have a great time no matter the situation.  I know that no matter what happens he has my back, and I always feel safe when he's around.  These are great qualities to have in a friend.  I'm also very great friends with his wife, who thankfully understands why we're friends!  Sharon is just as awesome as Tim, but for different reasons.  I'm sure that eventually you will find a tale on here involving her, but it just so happens that this most recent "interesting thing" involves Tim, so I felt that you fine readers needed some introduction.

So recently, Tim has picked up a new karaoke gig on Wednesday nights.  He was up for the position along with another DJ.  We'll call the other guy Summer's Eve.  Obviously, because Tim IS the people's choice, he was hired instead of Summer's Eve.  I may be biased, but I do a lot of karaoke, and Tim really is great at what he does, and the only thing Summer's Eve had to offer besides a computer was a bunch of really ugly hats.

Yay, Tim!  So last night was Tim's first night.  As bad as I have felt, I trooped out to the new digs to support my BFF on his first night!  Low and behold, Summer's Eve showed up to check out the show.  I have to tell you about this guy.

Picture it.  A shorter, gray haired version of Howie Mandel with a serious inferiority complex.  That's what he looked like.  So, Tim and I are sitting at the designated hired DJ only spot, when over walks Summer's Eve.  Tim, who can't stand the guy, is pleasant and welcoming to the guy.....which was shocking, because the first time he opened his mouth, I just wanted to stuff a homeless man's sock into his mouth.  Tim, if you read this, congratulations on your ability to conduct yourself like an adult. 

Summer's Eve now wants to know every detail about Tim's equipment, programs, etc.  (I'm sure it was just so he could feel like his was way better, which it's not, so suck it.)  Tim politely told him all about what he wanted to know.  Well, this makes Summer's Eve think he's got an edge.  Commence the pissing contest.  I'm going to quote the following conversation.

Tim:  Hey buddy!  Are you gonna sing tonight?
Summer's Eve:  Ummmm, well, yeah sure!  Do you got Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi?
Tim:  Yep! 
Summer's Eve:  Sound Choice?
Tim:  If I have it, absolutely.
Summer's Eve:  Can you drop it two keys?

At this point, Tim looks at the guy with an "Are you fucking kidding me" face. 
Me: (Directed at Tim)  There's one in every bar isn't there?
Tim:  LOL, alright I gotcha in.  You'll be up in just a minute.

So 10 minutes go by, and Summer's Eve is now done singing his song.  Which I have to tell you, a dying cow could've done better.  It was hard to retain laughter at how bad this cocky sumbitch was singing.  So here he comes to put in another song.

Summer's Eve:  Was that dropped two keys?
Tim: (Points to the screen to show him the -2 in the key box) Yep.  Did you want it lower than that?
Summer's Eve:  Well, I wanted it dropped to keys.
Tim: (Points to the screen again)  I dropped it two keys.  Did it sound different?
Summer's Eve:  Well, with my program I drop it two keys and it sounds different.  I guess that's just the difference in.....uh....computers. 

Walk away buddy, you're making yourself look stupid.  I didn't stay much longer after that, but I have a strange feeling that Tim dealt with this all night.  I feel really bad for Summer's Eve......he probably doesn't have very many friends.  So, here's my advice to him.

GROW UP YOU ASSHAT!  Tim was clearly the better choice, so man up and quit trying to make Tim miserable.  I mean, you have gray hair, so shouldn't you be past the point of petty bullshit?  Shake hands with Tim, congratulate him on the gig, and go find another one.  You giving him a bunch of shit isn't going to pay your bills or get you the job that he clearly already has. 

Let's all take a moment to think of this poor little Howie Mandel looking lost soul, and congratulate him for winning the douche bag of the day award.  Clearly he needs to win something........this should make him feel a little better.

XOXOXOXOXO

A Less Than Interesting Day.......*sigh*

Greetings from the hole that is my crappy bed.  It is where I have lived for the last 48 hours.  I was making the girls a delicious microwaved lunch of leftovers yesterday when, boom, I reached up to open the microwave and found myself in complete and utter misery.  So, I situated them as best I could with tears running down my face, walked to my bed, and since have truly contemplated just shitting in a bucket to avoid any excess moving.  (Don't worry........it was only contemplation.  No bucket shitting has occured.) 

So, as I lay here, it's hard not to become bored out of your mind.  I've tried to decide what to write about since nothing funny, exciting, infuriating, or otherwise happened to me today.  I took a Loritab and laid around.  Ah, but then I discovered that I could simply give you a funny story from days prior.  One from each of my awesome kids, and by awesome I mean beautiful, creative, intelligent, but equally terrifying daughters.  Enjoy!

Melanie:
As my first-born, this child has obvious advantages.  She is allowed to do more, because it's what I consider a "learning curve".  If Melanie does it with little to no damage, I guess it's probably okay for the younger two to give it a go.  She was the first one to go down the slide head first, first one to ride a bike, etc.  Hence comes a funny tale from the mind of my genius almost 7 year old daughter.  She has been very sick the last couple days with Scarlet Fever.  So she's had the works.  Headache, fever, sore throat, ear ache, and a general attitude of "fuck off".  Yes, she's been a cranky ass.  Within reason, of course, and as to be expected.  I know I'm no saint when I'm feeling bad.  Anyway, I digress.  Because of the fever, I have been giving her steady rounds of Tylenol and Ibuprofen.  (Mommy of the YEAR!)  The medicine has done very little for the fever, but it seems to have done one very big thing.  Completely stop her from taking a crap.  So, she's on the toilet right down the hall from my bedroom and all of a sudden I hear what sounds like a small whale dying.  It's Melanie, crying.  Lily, my next oldest comes running in my room yelling, "Melanie can't POOOOOOP!!!!"  Then Melanie yells from the bathroom, "I'm scared."

I can't get up because my leg goes numb when my back goes out, so I yell for her dad to go check on her.  This makes her even more upset.  I tell her to calm down, and come into my room and I'll try to make her feel better.  She comes waddling in, pants to her ankles.  I said, "Pull your pants up goofball."  So I start giving her the options.  We can wait it out, try eating some prunes, or we can give her an enema.  Of course she doesn't know what that means, so I explain to her that it's a little thing that goes in her butthole, squirts some oil in, and loosens up the poop so it can come out.  Her immediate response to that was, "Dad has already seen me in the bathroom, there's no way you're sticking something in my butt.  The poop will just have to stay in there."  They grow up so fast.  She's a smart ass just like her mom.  =-)


Lily:
Lily is what I like to call imaginative.  She comes up with very strange, and creepy tales.  I personally believe that she is a future Tim Burton.  Her mind is a dark and twisty place.  (Likely the result of watching The Omen a few too many times when I was pregnant with her.)  Her most recent story involved a pink alien, an axe, and some poison.  Ironically, however, she is terrified of EVERYTHING.  I almost wrecked my car one time because she screamed in such a blood curdling way from the back seat that it scared me.  What was she screaming about?  A fly landed on her leg.  She's very timid.  I don't know how else to explain her demeanor.

Just the other day, we were in the car on our way home and her sister Shayne was babbling about some kind of nonsense.  Then they got onto the topic of Jesus. (?)  They argued back and forth for a while, when all of a sudden I heard, "Shut up Shayne!  Jesus lives in outer space with the aliens!"  Then she started singing Crazy Train by Ozzy.  She's a carbon copy of me, I swear.


Shayne:
Ah, my baby.  My last little angel.  My miracle.  My diva.  My pain in the ass.  I love this child more than words can express.  She's a miracle, and I nearly gave my life to bring her into this world.  We have a bond unlike the bond I have with my older two.  She's spoiled rotten, and you can definitely tell.  She is random, demanding, loud, and adorable.  She's only 3, so she has limited understanding of words and their meanings, but she is very intelligent.  I would just like to share with you some quotes from Shayne over the last year.

My mom:  Shayne, say your prayers before you go to sleep.
Shayne:  I don't want to.

Shayne:  Look mommy!  I'm tall enough to reach the floor!

Shayne:  I'm not a ninja, I'm a ninja turtle!

Shayne:  My nose is running.  I need a tennis shoe.  Please.  Perry Please.

Shayne:  The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the giant meatball.

Shayne:  Jesus is a super hero!  He died for our country!

Shayne:  (After getting out of the bath tub)  Daddy!  Look!  I have a hole in my butt!


And, that, my friends is what procreation is really all about.  Posting embarrassing stories about your children on the internet, so that when the right time comes, you can use them as date material.  Have sweet dreams!

XOXOXOXOXO

They say confession is good for the soul.

I'm going to take you back........way back.  We're going to start from the lovely age of 15, because up to that point my life was uneventful.  First, however, let me give you a basic family overview.  I grew up in a home where, for a short time, religion was unimportant.  My mom and dad met in the 80's after my dad left the army.  He and my mom, and both sets of grandparents attended church together.  My mom and dad both had their struggles, but married on April 27, 1984.  I was born May 31, 1985 and my sister Rachel popped out May 28, 1987.  We moved around a lot when I was kid.  Always the same town, but different houses and schools.  Eventually, we moved to Illinois and my parents found God.  My dad eventually became a minister, and my mom became a school bus driver.  My sister was a track star, basketball player, youth group attendee, etc.  I was a band geek.  So there you go.  You get the basic idea, anyway.

The first major life event for me happened when I was 15.  My family and I were on our way home from church when we received a phone call informing us that our house was on fire.  I recall my dad driving somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 miles an hour trying desperately to get there, as if getting there would somehow stop it.  It didn't.  We lost everything.  After that, we moved into town which was a major change for us.  I had grown up in the country, where my sister was my closest friend because she was the only person around.  The house we moved into was small and shitty, but it was only a temporary rental, so for the short time we were there, I guess it wasn't that bad.  I chose the basement as my bedroom, because at 15 a girl needs her privacy you know.  It was at that point that I discovered I could sneak out of the window when mom and dad were asleep, and they would be none the wiser.  I met a boy named Zef.  He would come in the middle of the night to pick me up.  I would sneak out the window, walk a block to the Jr. High parking lot, and we would go on adventures.  I eventually would give up my prized virginity in the heat of the moment, in an abandoned house on a dirt road.  That didn't last, obviously.

My next boyfriend of sorts was Bobby.  He was 25.  My dad almost killed him when I came home and told him that I thought I was pregnant.  Thank God I wasn't.  After that, I was forced to live up my parents' assholes.  They watched me like a hawk.  I met a boy named Ryan through a friend we shared mutually, Tierra.  (She is still my best friend to this day.)  I dated Ryan for 6 years.  We attended 3 proms, and even decided to go to college together.  We chose good ole Murray State University in Murray, KY.  I had decided at the age of 11 that I wanted to chase tornadoes, so as the plan would I have it, I elected to enter the Meteorology program.  I ended up being able to start college classes a year before I graduated, but obviously lived at home.  Until I was 17 anyway.

At 17, I moved out of our family home and into a dorm room at Murray.  Ryan moved into a different dorm across campus.  That summer, the family home I moved out of burned down.  Yes, that's TWO house fires.  I was less involved with the second one, because I only stayed there part time.  College was great.  At first.  I did ok, but I was so excited that mom and dad couldn't watch me that I spent most of my time either in Ryan's dorm room doing exactly what you're thinking OR at frat parties seeing just how hammered I could get.  After my first semester there, I found out that my very best friend and her father had been killed in a car accident on her birthday.  I went home for a few months, but things at Murray were never the same.  Ryan and I had gotten engaged right before I found out, but within a month of Melanie and Brad's death, we had split up.  Yet another devastating blow.  (Or so I thought.)

I went back to Murray, single and on the prowl.  I had met Don through Ryan.  They lived across the hall from each other and had become great friends.  He and I started dating, and things were great.  I found out about his drug use after about a month.  Drugs weren't my thing, but I wanted so badly for him to like me that I was willing to do anything.  I began using cocaine.  The addiction came fast and before I knew it, I didn't recognize myself.  My parents had stopped talking to me because of my alcohol use.  They've never known about the drugs, or what happened next.  I eventually was arrested for underage possession of alcohol and grand theft auto.  All charges were dropped, but being arrested is one shitty fucking feeling.  I felt so ashamed that I went home to my mom and dad for about a month.  Then out of the blue, I told them I was going to a movie with some friends and the next day Don and I eloped.  I didn't see my mom again for over a year.  We moved to Nashville where I became a stripper to support my cocaine habit.  I dealt with horrible mental abuse from Don.  I wasn't allowed to buy my own clothes, dress myself, shave my own legs, etc.  I had to weigh myself everyday, and if I gained an ounce, he would lock the refrigerator.  If he wanted to go out, I had to be dressed to the nines in his taste, or he would leave me at home.  Eventually, I caught him with another woman.  I lost it and almost killed the girl.  Payback is a bitch though, and I decided "eye for an eye".  I had a one night stand with a man whose name will never be released.  Two months later, I found out I was pregnant.

I quit the drugs and alcohol immediately.  When I told both of the guys I was pregnant, neither wanted anything to do with me.  So there I was alone, pregnant, jobless.......and desperate.  I lived in my car for a while, then moved to a homeless shelter in Paducah, KY.  I stayed there for two weeks, then hopped along to my friend Dana's in IL.  I stayed there for a couple weeks, but had worn out my welcome.  I didn't know what to do.  I went to a strip club in DeSoto, IL where they were doing amateur night.  I had no money, and thought that was a simple way to make some cash.  I ended up not getting on stage because there was only one other girl there.  She and I ended up leaving and going to crash on some guys couch.  I had no idea who either of them were, but it beat sleeping in my car.  The next day, she asked me to take her to buy some drugs.  When we got to the guy's house, I told her I needed to run to the gas station and that I would be right back.  I was 40 minutes away from my parents.  I never saw that girl again.  When I pulled into the driveway of my mom's, my car ran out of gas.  Pretty cliche huh?

They welcomed me home with only slight hesitation.  I got a job as a waitress at a local dive, and did my best to maintain a healthy pregnancy.  Don and I had obviously filed for divorce, but it couldn't be finalized until after the baby was born.  While working at said dive, I met a guy.  James.  He was a meth addict, and was fresh out of prison, but my God he was perfect.  When I was 7 months pregnant, we went on our first date, shared our first kiss, and were inseparable.  In December of 2005, I gave birth to my oldest daughter Melanie Renee.  It was love at first sight.  In February of that year, my parents caught James and I dating and told me that if I continued dating him, I couldn't live with them.  Again, I abandoned my parents and moved in with him and his parents.  Classy, right?  He quit doing meth and hasn't touched it to this day, but in doing so he became an alcoholic.  Eventually, we moved to Olney, IL.  When Melanie was 6 months old, I found out I was pregnant again.  It took a while to get excited, but it eventually came.  James and I were in the throws of what I call the worst year of my life.  He was drunk all the time, and very abusive.  I threatened to leave him several times, but never did.

When I was 6 months pregnant, we had to move back into his parents' house because financially we couldn't survive.  He quit drinking, as much anyway, and got his GED.  In February of 2007, our second daughter Lillian (Lily) Kathleen was born.  In July of the same year, he and I finally got married at the bequest of my parents.  James became a coal miner, and I became the manager at the local Subway.  In 2008, we both got EMT licenses and began working for the local ambulance company.  We decided that we wanted another baby, and began actively trying to get pregnant.  In November of 2008, we were so excited to find out that we were pregnant with our third child.  Nobody else was quite as excited.

At 3 months pregnant, I began having several complications.  The details are long and boring, but for the remainder of the pregnancy I was either in the hospital or on total bed rest.  Shayne Alyssa-Bradleigh was born in July of 2009 at 32 weeks gestation.  She weighed 4 lb. 8 oz. at birth.  Having survived the pregnancy, which was questionable at times, I opted to have my tubes tied.

In October of that year, we found out that our oldest daughter, Melanie, had been being molested by our 15 year old nephew.  Seven days after finding out, we moved to Peoria, IL in order to escape the drama.  I began working for an ambulance service in town, and eventually went to Paramedic school.

In December of 2010, I was injured in the line of duty.  I went through 6 months of therapy, and returned to duty in May of 2011.  In December of that year, I was injured again, but much more severely.  I have been unable to return to duty, and have been told that I will never work again.  The doctors are now saying that I may become paralyzed in the future.  I have a lot to deal with because of these injuries.  I decided to live in the now, and taught myself to crochet, and I also became the lead singer of a band.  I finally feel like I have found somewhere I belong.  On stage.

So there you have it.  My life in a nutshell.  It's pretty long, but trust me, that's the short version. 

My Stick Is Broken......

This is me.  Twelve long, eventful years ago.  At the ripe old age of 27, I feel like I've lived through as much as your average 45 year old.  No, I haven't dealt with the teenage years, or first periods, or even the joy of not having a child in diapers, BUT.......my life experiences have crafted me into what I frequently say is a "90 year old woman in a 27 year old body".  Most people who read this I'm going to assume know me in one way or another, be it grade school, high school, college, work, or otherwise.  The question of the day is, "How well do you think you know me?"  Do you know that I'm a mother of three?  Do you know that I'm on my second marriage?  Do you know that I crochet?  Do you know that I was a Paramedic?  Well, sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or whiskey, a cuddly blanket and continue reading.  I promise to try to be entertaining. 

This first post is going to be lengthy at best.  I'm going to attempt to give you an overview of my life up to this point.  Then, folks, let the games begin.  I will begin posting daily entries on my thoughts for that day.  What I did, something that sparked my interest, rant about the many things that piss me off in a day.  DISCLAIMER:  This 100% absolutely will in NO way be a child friendly blog.  I have no filter for my thoughts, nor do I have any desire to attempt to censor myself.  I want this to be raw and unfiltered.  Me, at my best and at my worst.  If you are easily offended, back out now.......otherwise, stay and enjoy a sometimes comedic outlook on the not-so-simple life of one random person out there in the universe.