Tag Archives: life

Stupid Things Mothers Compete About

This post is probably more relatable to women, maybe because it’s about mothering, maybe it’s because I’m a woman, maybe because Air Bud can play basketball really well.

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“Nothing but net!”

Maybe because I said maybe a lot and cited reasons. If I use potentially or possibly this post would sound a lot smarter, because scientists use those words more so to support their hypothesis (an educated guess, because everything scientists do is educated, even guessing). If my calculations are correct scientists could potentially guess with education than you when they play Guess Who? leaving you to guess, well, stupid. Also by my calculations I can make a hypothesis if I wear a lab coat, lab coats make you seemingly smarter than before.

3.Who has the most disinfected kid.

we all know that kid’s hands are more vile than a urethral swab from Tommy Lee. However moms think that having sanitizer in their purse, on their key chain, and simply everywhere makes them superior. They are quick to give you the most horrified look when you don’t splash Germ-X on each rung of the monkey bars as your kid goes across them. Firstly, hand washing with soap and water is more effective being that it kills C. Difficile spores. That’s one that can make your butt a diarrhea fountain not unlike the chocolate fountain at Golden Corral. Furthermore, constant sanitation eliminates germ exposure, weakening the immune system. Yes, your kid should wash his hands throughout the day but if you think that leaves you bacteria free, your an idiot. The body is comprised of millions, trillions of bacteria, approximately five pounds of it. we also have an immune system that operates on recognition of invading pathogens, so while it may be counterintuitive, the body breeds exposure in order to respond appropriately.

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“Motthhhhaaaaaa”

2. Who had the worst labor.

Birthing a child hurts, duh. Most women had contractions, painful ones at that. Some women labored for hours, some for days. Some women are dead set on having the most worst labor of all time as if they give prizes for that. First of all oxytocin, that awesome hormone that starts contractions, creates a flow of wonderful emotions, and also causes a woman to forget just how painful labor is. That’s nature’s way of “buying you a drink”. I mean if you remembered distinctly every detail, humanity would have ceased or slowed considerably. What could be a shared experience for women to relate to each other is sometimes a battle for who had it worse. It’s hard for me to openly talk about this subject for this reason. I love to hear other women’s stories but not when they have to detract from everyone else’s with, “Oh that’s nothing, I’ll tell you about MY birth…”

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“When you were born it felt like Wolverine shredded my vagina”

1. Who sleeps the least.

Another favorite, some mothers love to make lack of sleep a badge of honor. Again, this could be supportive and relatable right? Fuck no! “When MY child was a baby he slept four hours every seven days, and I cleaned the house while he did that.” Yes, infants wake often. Sometimes they have colic, and they sleep very little. However, they do fucking sleep, because humans sleep. What’s worse an admission of being tired is like a celebrity tweeting a racist comment, you are subject to scrutiny. Not only will women make outrageous comparisons but ensure you that you have failed because you require just some of that restorative function our bodies need, not want, need.

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I suppose us women will always compete. Maybe we’re evolved but we still look at the Facebook pages of our boyfriend’s ex or our ex boyfriend’s current girlfriend. I admit it, and admit I do it because I want to think I’m prettier, thinner, better at taking bathroom mirror pics. People in general brag more than they should really. Oh well, what to do? Well, besides hate every bitch at the YMCA pool, or baseball game, birthday party, pre-k keg party…what?

I love the moms who just admit they struggle and it’s challenging to be a mother. There are women who really do face so much adversity. I’m not sure why women aren’t supportive of each other as they could be. If being a good person and parent kept score, I’d be somewhat better than the Detroit Lions, somewhat.

Au Revoir Apartments…Smell Ya Later

My lease is up at my apartments, and I’m planning a more economic friendly move to another apartment with a roomate. It’s tough for single gals and I for one would sure like financial stability as well as the company. This move is bittersweet, while I often complain on Facebook about my apartments, I’m still going to miss what I’ve called home for a few years. I’m also going to miss my neighbors, no, not in the way you think. I don’t think I’ve talked extensively to any of them but I’ve observed them from afar on a level of certain creepiness. So, who will I miss?

The Denim Clad Bludgeoner

Perhaps I’m jumping to conclusions here, but the guy who lives across from me is in the business of death, sudden violent death to transients and hookers. He leaves early in the morning while the dew is still on the grass, because he travels to commit his heinous acts. Dressed in a demin shirt, demin shorts (jorts) and brown boots topped off with a khaki hat he leaves, taking a long wooden walking staff (ready for spontaneous murder). He gets into his inconspicuous white jeep and gives me a friendly nod as he drives away. He’s gone for several days. I know this because when our apartment management leaves memos stuffed in our doors his will remain in place for 3 to 4 days. Meaning, it would have to be removed if he came into his apartment. However he’s home when they do inspection and he leaves notes for them not to spray his apartment with insecticide. I don’t believe this is a worry about chemicals, no sir, it’s because he has clippings about the place celebrating his crimes. Duh. All killers do this. Which is really outdated and not very green. One could easily just save a zip file on their PC labeled “My Insatiable Lust for Blood”. I also believe this because he left his blinds open and I peeked through, there were newspapers everywhere (no I’m not weird!). He doesn’t want pest control to walk around spraying that watered down Mello Yello they call insecticide and discover the missing teens from Branson MS met their fate at the hands of a blue jean loving assassin. He’s nice enough but his eyes sing a song of murder to me, “I want to dismember you, fa la la la la la”.
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Tankerbell’s Mommy

I don’t know this lady’s name either but I know her godforsaken dog’s name; Tinkerbell but pronounced “Tankerbell”. This lady is at the very least 400 hundred pounds and she  yells at her chihuahua while walking around barefoot all day. Seriously it’s like president Taft walking around in a house dress. She’s always saying, “Tankerbell, hush up quit barkin’ git in tha house!” These apartments are pretty small and she lives with her significant other, another woman, and some kids but there’s a like several and I can’t discern which one’s actually live there or just like show up. Nonetheless that’s a lot of people for one place and at night their shades are open…yes I look in and there are sheets the partition the living room. It’s like a Hooverville in there. There’s another dog too but it never gets yelled at because Tankerbell is the one that never shuts up. This dog has like a hernia or hemorrhoids because it’s butthole looks like it was pulled out, kind of like a Sonic straw. I can say right now I don’t envy that dog.

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Tankerbell! where are you?

The Office Depot Adonis

This guy I often see getting into his yellow Mustang going to do whatever beautiful people go do all day. I’ll assume float on clouds. He works at Office Depot which I discovered by happenstance and not by being a stalker (this time). I went to make prints of my artwork and he was there, we talked about apartments and how much they suck, and well what do you know! He’s int he building next to me. I figured out that he was actually the well muscled hulk of lustful thoughts that jumps rope and jogs around the complex. He drips sweat that could bring flowers back to life.  He’s the guy I for serious, almost wrecked into a dumpster watching warm-up with some high knees. Did you know movies do not edit beautiful people in slow motion? Beautiful people effect the time space continuum and their movements actually slow down so the world has some semblance of order while they are around. I fumbled over words like an idiot, and forgot what I was talking about mid-sentence. Yeah, THAT beautiful. Now I can’t just walk into Office Depot without feeling like an awkward school girl or stalker-like. I would like to look into his window.

Gandalf the Grey

There’s an elderly lady who leaves her apartment several times a day to go to the mailbox or kind of stand on the sidewalk and stare contemplatively into the horizon. Firstly, I want to know what kind of US Postal Service does she think she has to go to the mailbox more than once? Secondly, I think she goes outside to steal the joyful noise of the nearby songbirds. She has her name because she wears a grey sweat suit ALWAYS and has matching grey hair. Thus, Gandalf the Grey, plus when you get that old you have magic powers. Maybe her mobility has far exceeded her cognitive ability and she is slipping slowly into the world of dementia. A small part of me fills with fantastical terror when I wave and say “Hi” but she only glares at me with contempt. I can’t say what her apartment looks like because it’s on the second floor and that presents a challenge of sorts. I’m going to say full of razors and Halloween candy. Her plan only foiled by the fact that old people hand out that caramel candy kids hate and never eat.

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I'm going back upstairs to wait for the third mail delivery today.

Facking Cool Guy

The northern guy who has several bad tattoes including the black panther of shame and the tribal arm band. He “DJ’s” um, nowhere. He cuts the sleeves of his shirts because all fellas know this creates an optical illusion of muscle. He hits on EVERY woman at the pool maybe even some dudes with bitch tits. He wears sandals and has gross feet.

Hot For Teacher

This woman is the 80′s and honestly I love her. She has the leathery brown tan skin, bleach blonde hair, neon clothes made of mesh net, sunglasses ALWAYS, and a convertible. She can always be found at the pool when its open baking herself in the sun slathered in baby oil, seriously, listening to Poison on her boombox.

I however will not be missed by anyone because I’m that weird fucking girl who looks through windows, stares at everyone, and can’t drive very well in the parking lot. Changes…

Celebrations and Secret Fetishes

Life is many things, and worth celebrating. I suppose that’s why we have birthday parties, surely it’s not to ensure magicians have jobs. They dress like effeminate pirates and who likes that? Birthday clowns are weird too. There was a guy in my neighborhood growing up that was a birthday clown. He called himself Bubbles. My mother would threaten to hire him for my birthday. Not funny, not ever, mom. Okay a little.

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mind = mystified

Now where was I? Oh yes, life and fetishes. This is not a secret admission here, it’s more like a FYI. I have some shame, probably a little more than Dina Lohan. I’m going to say right here, that was the only episode of Dr. Phil I wanted to watch and actually did watch. If you don’t know what I’m talking about take a minute to “click this link fool” on your magic wizard box or computer as they have been called since 1977. Then come back and thank me in the comment section.

What exactly is this fetish business? Active Senior Citizen Men. Yep.

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wave your hand in the air, wave them like you just don't care

I was driving down the road and saw a geriatric man riding a bicycle, his calve muscles were ripped. His jogging shorts perhaps dangerously short and in danger of a more than generous ball shot, but he was rocking them the fuck out. You could feel his zest for life emanating from his person. He was living the golden years and winning at it.

I can’t help but admit that I find active old men attractive. I don’t necessarily want to give them my phone number for them to program into their Jitterbug phone, because lets face it that would take like ten minutes. I do however, admire them and want this when I myself am older. There is just something so amazing about a man in his sixties living a less sedentary life than most men my age. Plus they have AARP benefits and more than likely a Mercury Sable convertible.

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you should see the north pole, uh huh huh, shazaam

When I see an older man jogging, I imagine he woke that morning before dawn. He did some push-ups and laced up his favorite pair of New Balance shoes. He came downstairs to eat three eggs, a piece of toast and coffee, black. Cream and sugar is for men who can’t change a tire, weak men, men who didn’t vote for Reagan. Men who don’t eat meat. These men do not own power tools. Disgusting. He heads down to his favorite greenway mindful that he remembered his waist pack with water bottle holder. After some stretches and a disapproving glance at the young man in his sagging pants, he begins.  He goes along, nodding politely at all the ladies (because he knows they’re impressed), until he’s completed his routine.

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prefers fat free half and half

He gets home to enjoy a delightful cold cut and brown mustard sandwhich with the wife. Then they bang, because he’s an active senior full of vigor. He showers and then goes to his wood shed for the day to make birdhouses and whatever the hell old men do those things. Really, what do they do beside shellac EVERYTHING? I don’t know either but I’m willing to be arrested for trespassing to spy on one.

He comes in for dinner; pot roast, potatoes, green beans and homemade yeast rolls because his wife Alice either cooks or looks through JC Penny catalogues all day. They watch Dateline and go to bed. This is what I’m pretty sure active senior men do, everyday.

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that's right bitch

I personally think this is awesome, or that I’m awesome for thinking this. Whichever, have a sexy day.

I Will Not Suffer These Injustices

I am pushing 30 and as my ass has begun to whither so have my spirits. Everything I ever thought about life is absolutely wrong. I place the blame squarely on Lifetime Movie Network. I have been lied to and I am pissed.

Lie #1 Love:

When men love me it is not a tumultuous union, not even a dangerous one.  Instead it’s more like I decide I am not okay with watching this hairy fart machine laugh at every fucking word Adam Sandler says or scratch his balls for no less than 3o minutes upon waking. I decide it may be time to move to the next man in hopes of real passion. Where is the excitement? This is where Lifetime was misleading.  I have never been stalked, beaten, followed, threatened, or had an attempt at murder upon myself.  I really thought that a man would live in my attic unbeknownst to me. He could pretend to be my landscaper all the while watching my family through the air ducts and fashioning a clay model family in our likeness.  I leave clippings of my hair and my panties in the garbage.  I assume stalkers like these type of mementos and possibly do some scrap-booking. We all know they keep newspaper clippings about the murders they committed. I have become so desperate I break into my own apartment and write death threats on my mirror with lipstick and deface my own pictures.  Every evening I arrive home safely in my car,  once again not forced off the road and into a strange van.  I even get into stranger’s cars and no one wants to kidnap me, they want to call the police, on me! ME! I am tired of rolling around on the forest floor and limping home with a self inflicted bloody nose. According to Lifetime, every woman will be victim of a brutal attack and every man is an obsessive murderous stalker…I am thinking this is not so true.

Lie #2 I’m Interesting

Recently, it dawned on me why exactly men I date have a strong tendency to cheat on me.  As I have always suspected, it really was my fault. I was not interesting enough to keep them faithful! I mistakenly used Lifetime as a reference and decided: I need a trendy new mental disorder.  So Lifetime convinces me that men really like to be called (and often). In order to let a man know I am interested I should call him 10 to 150 times a day.  I could hang up, whisper, or breathe heavily, all these things are acceptable.  My favorite, is to threaten suicide, it really gets their attention and is a guaranteed way to secure another date. What Lifetime did not mention; this is illegal behavior especially since I am sporting a faux mental disability.

Lie #3 Jail is as Dramatic as it is Glamorous

This leads me to the last lie Lifetime movies have taught me. When I went to county lock up I didn’t look hot in my jumpsuit. Actually, there were pit stains and what appears to be opiate puke from the previous owner all over it. Furthermore, my cell mate was not an attractive, tough talking, street wise, girl who was down on her luck. She had not fought back, defending herself against her abusive alcoholic boyfriend only to be betrayed by the cruel justice system.  Nope, my cell mate set a neighborhood dog on fire and the police found her after she was living in the woods for several weeks.  She talked to me whether I was in the cell or not.  She also claimed to become a dragon though I saw no outward changes in her appearance. After weeks of sitting around, going to rec, and reading; I realized there would not be a power hungry guard who would take advantage of my vulnerability.  Furthermore, I wouldn’t even have a  huge fight where an inmate would try to shank me in the chow hall. Thanks Lifetime that too was bullshit.

I have decided to change my media source of information.  I am no doubt going to find a more honest channel than Lifetime (my vagina frowns at you).