The Ooooey Goooey

So, I was flipping through the blogs and I found an interesting challenge.

I'm not normally up for such silliness, but I found myself scribbling on the back of my insurance bill.... It was one of those moments where you actually find something out about yourself.

"This requires twelve people. Two former friends, two new friends, two current friends. Two old flames, two new crushes and two people you've never spoken to. Write two sentences about, for or describing these people. Do not include their names."

First person is on top, second person is on bottom. Just to clarify and avoid confusion... both are not about the same person.

The Goodbye Friends

 -You and I were like peas, and I miss skinny dipping at night. You can't blame me for your own mistakes anymore.

- You are so selfish, and you cannot be trusted. You never even came to see me afterwards.

The New Friends

- You are an awesome mother...even to children that aren't yours. You are a firecracker and I hope we are friends for a very long time.

- She might be a little rough around the edges, but hold onto her. She's a keeper, man.

The Comfortable Currents

- Sir, you are the spoonful of sugar in my coffee, the vanilla in my tea, the dust in my bookcase and the only other species of fruit like us. You will always be the tortured and enlightened, (often frustratingly correct) tangles in my hair that I will carry around like a nappy-headed ragamuffin forever.

- You are a beautiful human being and you need to answer my damn phonecalls every now and then. I love you and your monster, you vicious boobgrabber.

The Forever-ago-Flames

- You are a drunken idiot, and I did not kill anything. Please buy a new car- yours is dumb and I never did like the fact that you wear old, oversized grumpy-old-man undies.

- Remember when we sat on the railing above the BB&T parking deck and took photos of the skyline, fought over you calling the little girl a 'bear', and you made me leave my camera to go anywhere because I'd only spend the whole time taking photos ..or when you explained why the moon looks closer on flat land? I'm sorry for throwing hot tea in your face without even being invited in, but your locks were broken , and the only thing I still like is that we always did have the most retarded metaphors.

The New Points of Interest

-You are out there, alone and dying, I am sure. I will not sign a prenup, and your wrinkles will bother me less once you sign everything over to me.
 Just kidding. Doesn't count.
- You are always so sweet to me, even if I'm being grumpy. I'm glad you're my friend.

- I just might suffocate you.

The Strangers

- I see you every week. Please teach your child not to throw things everywhere, because one day they are going to hit me with a shoe and I'm going to spank YOU.

- I have never spoken to you before, or even really made eye contact. But I must say, you have the nicest posture I've ever seen on an older person.

I must be content, because I have suddenly run out of things to bitch about.

God, I love winter.

Except, not really.

Driving home on 226, I was more concerned with keeping my fingers from freezing to the steering wheel to really pay attention to anything more than the black and yellow infront of me. This includes ridiculously huge creatures who decide to take risks and dart infront of me.
I'm wondering what exactly went through this particularly obese raccoon's mind as he saw my big-ass-blazer approaching him. Had he just found out his wife was cheating on him? Did he question the legitimacy of his offspring? Had he just lost his job, and decided that life was no longer worth living... Or perhaps, did he decide that for once in his miserable, scared and dorky life, that he was going to grab life by the tires and take the risk. As he scampered across the pavement, headlights approaching, did he look towards the other side and think to himself, "My god, I'm going to make it! I'm a winner! I knew I could do this!" right before his impending doom?
No. He is a raccoon, and that is all.
That fat bastard thumped so loudly, I thought my damn exhaust pipe had fallen off. I'm pretty sure I lost a few heartbeats.... And I don't think I'll ever be welcomed through the Pearly Gates if any deity happened to listen in on the rather crude and vile string of profanities that filled my vehicle. I briefly considered that perhaps I had run over someone's dog... maybe a saint bernard... But most likely a small horse.
Already pissy, I made it home without incident. Grumbling and trembling so hard I almost couldn't open my door, I trudged across the driveway and into the safe-haven of my yard. I could already feel my mood begin to brighten at the thought of my warm room ...just up the porch stairs... OH holy Christ!! Of all the things that I should have considered, I had not anticipated the two-inch thick layer of Death Frost on the porch. I'm not quite sure what happened during the fall, all I knew was that it hurt. Alot. And I was pissed. Again. Stumbling up, I considered throwing a tantrum and kicking a few yard items...but ended up sitting back down on the (more than likely, now insulted.. depending on if stairs appreciate being called *** *** ****a*** ***ers) stairs and fighting back tears. My ass hurts. And even after going inside, kicking my boots off and sprawling out in front of my space heater, I still feel like somehow, against all logic and reason, it's that damn fatass raccoon's fault.


I hate winter.

Letters I'll Never Send - Written By Anonymous

YOU.
You. Yes, you. I am writing this for you.
I know you are reading this. And I want you to know I am writing this for you. No one else will understand. No one else knows. They think that this is for them. But it’s not. I am writing this for you.
I want you to know, life…it’s hard. Every day can be a challenge. It can be a challenge to get up in the morning. To get yourself out of bed. To put on that smile. But I want you to know, that smile is what keeps us going some days. You need to remember, even through the tough times, you are amazing. You really are.
You should be happy. You are gorgeous.
I know that the weather might not be perfect. You might have to turn your back to the wind or feel the cold nipping at your nose. But you know what, at least you are there to feel it. At least you can enjoy the sun’s warm rays on your face. Or that cold February wind biting at your cheeks. You know what that means?
You are alive.
Everything will be okay.

The Egg, By Andy Weir

 This is my favorite short story. Ever.



You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

The Right To Bear Hearts

So... I posted an image, shared by the one of the most lovely women I know, Beth,  a photo of an arrow pointing to my display saying "This person believes anyone should be able to marry", or something like that.  Anyways, It's true. And several people, who I was rather shocked, said they would be pressing the dislike button, or 'that's against god and that's nasty'.
Then, of course, they quote leviticus. Because Leviticus knows exactly what's to be done, and by golly, our nation was raised on the Bible!


Well, children. We're going to have a lesson today.
A lesson about the OTHER scriptures, that seemed to be just.... left out? Left our for convenience?

Deuteronomy 25:11-12

"If two men, a man and his countryman, are struggling together, and the wife of one comes near to deliver her husband from the hand of the one who is striking him, and puts out her hand and seizes his genitals, then you shall cut off her hand; you shall not show pity."

Wow, we sure don't see that often. I wonder why?

Deuteronomy 23:1

"No one whose testicles are crushed or whose male organ is cut off shall enter the assembly of the Lord."

Sorry... I guess vasectomies, war injuries and whatnot just screwed you over. I mean, we can't just let ANYONE in Heaven, right ?

Deuteronomy 22:5

"Women are not to wear men's clothing. It is an abomination to the lord."

Sorry ladies, no tee shirts, baseball caps or jeans allowed in Heaven. And you girlfriends that like to snuggle up in your boyfriend's hoodies: You are DIGUSTING. (Evidently)

Not even mentioning that in both Exodus and Genesis, women are nothing but property. So, all you ladies who declare yourselves to be your own person, you are an abomination to the lord and will rot in Hell for it.

Deuteronomy

If a betrothed virgin is raped in the city and doesn't cry out loud enough, then "the men of the city shall stone her to death." 22:23-24

Ladies, if you're being raped, and your screaming isn't loud enough for someone to hear, then sorry chic, it's your own damn fault and we all get to kill you for it.

Leviticus 12:4

"If a woman have conceived seed, and born a man child: then she shall be unclean seven days ... And she shall then continue in the blood of her purifying three and thirty days."

"But if she bear a maid child, then she shall be unclean two weeks ... and she shall continue in the blood of her purifying threescore and six days."
If a girl is born, the mother is unclean for 14 days and be purified for 66 days. This is because, in the eyes of God, girls are twice as dirty as boys.

Leviticus 15:19-30, 33

"If a woman have an issue, and her issue ... be blood..." (God's law for menstruating women)
They are unclean and sinful. Anything that they touch is unclean. Anyone who touches anything that they touch is unclean. Stay completely away from them.

...."On the eighth day she shall take unto her two turtles, or two young pigeons ... for a sin offering, and the other for a burnt offering; and the priest shall make an atonement for her before the LORD for the issue of her uncleanness."

Well, after you put your tampon box away, you should sacrifice small animals and beg the lord for atonement from your dirty, dirty period. How many women do NOT do this?

Lastly, God loves us so much, he values our lives in silver. Of course, men are worth more, but who's counting? This is Love:
(http://www.skepticsannotatedbible.com/lev/27.html#3) Just in case there are any doubts.

(27:3-7)
God defines the value of human life in dollars and cents. Of course, to God, females are worth considerably less than males (50 - 60%) -- but neither are worth much. Males (20 - 60 years old) are worth 50 shekels.
Females are worth 30.
Males (5 - 20 years old) are worth 20 shekels.
Females are worth 10.
Males (< 5 years old) are worth 5 shekels.
Females are worth 3.




There are so many.
But I'm wondering, will people's arguments be ,"Well, that was then, this is now. Things were different back then.."

In which case, who are YOU to pick and choose which scriptures become modernized? Since we obviously have selective faith, who's job was it to decide that it's okay not to kill women because they were raped, or kill men with vasectomies, but it was okay to prevent two people of the same gender to engage in marital bliss?
This is nothing but simple ridiculousness and hypocrisy. 


Just think about it, you sinners, you.  And when you cheat on your wives, divorce your spouse, end up with only a daughter or have premarital sex, just sit back and wonder why it's acceptable to be an abomination in the eyes of God, (according to the Bible, not me), and then wonder why it's still unacceptable to be with the person you love. The root of this boils down to the prejudices of PEOPLE, not the Bible. If everything were according to the Bible, then things would be very different right now. PEOPLE have chosen which laws to abide. PEOPLE have decided who can marry one another. PEOPLE are the reason that other people cannot love another without being ridiculed. This has nothing to do with God, this has to do with fear of difference and self indulgent discrimination. So please, next time, for the love of your God, don't try to take the righteous stance of "well it's not my rule, it's God's rule". Because it has just been proven that God's rule has as much leg room as we, the humans, allow it to have. Own up to the fact that you feel arrogant enough to believe yourself to be of a high enough power to condemn other people's fate. It's you, America, that has grown so big-headed that you feel it is YOUR right to decide other people's lives.  If you are faithful to the Idea of the American dream, then you are loyal to the concept that NOBODY has the right to deter ANYONE from their own happiness, (as long as their happiness doesn't involve killing people and wearing their skin as a hat).

Fireworks in October

I don't usually write contemplative blog posts.. or status updates, or tweets, or whatever the hell keeps the world in touch with me. Usually, my messages to the world are hilariously cynical with middle fingers-for-everyone, but tonight it just doesn't seem fitting.  What was a normal mother-daughter outing turned into a "Okay, let's just stop by the store and go home where it's warm and we can sleep". On the way home from the store, a short detour took us to, surprisingly, huge fireworks.  Now, let me clear this up. I live in a one horse, one buggy town. We're lucky to see fireworks in July, much less in October.
It seems to be the trend lately. Every now and then, I set aside the bold remarks and want something a little quieter. I see my ex with a new girl, and instead of tossing some comment like 'good lucky honey', I actually feel myself wishing them well. Except for that one ex. I really do feel it necessary to warn the new girl. No girl deserves that. Ahem.
It could be any number of things that have caught everything and turned it into a mushy pile of sentimental pudding. The loveliness of autumn, the slowness and regularity of the season.. (The calm before the storm, if you will). It could also be the fact that I don't have so much drama and worry spirally around me. My bills are getting paid, I'm getting plenty of hours at work.



 But whatever it is, it needs to knock it off. Stuff's gettin' kinda boring around here.
Except for my dog trying to chase cars again. Little bastard has never chased cars before, and hell we lived about four feet infront of a road. Now that we're back in the valley, why the hell does he feel the need to chase every car that drives down the bumpy dirt road?! This makes no damn sense to me.
Oh,
and since it's getting cold outside.. I really miss my hair. Good god, one little breeze and the back of my neck is colder than the frozen tundra. This is just bullshit, honestly.

XY

Scenario: A girl driving a blazer starts her truck only to hear 'tcktcktcktck' and see thick, ass-black soot just rolling out of her tailpipe. A pop of the hood, a peep at the dipstick and the diagnoses reads: There's no f*bleep*ing oil in her truck.

Two quarts and a funnel made out of a paper cup later, the truck is smoke-less and 'tck'less.

However.

 Two overly helpful gentlemen don't seem to think Little Lady knows anything about what she's doing. Nevermind the State Troopers who politely offered assistance and left when they realized they were not needed.

"Darlin', you might want to call your daddy and ask him to come look at this."

"No sir, I think this is taken care of. I've been driving this vehicle a very long time, and I'm well aware of it's noises and functions. Thank you anyways."

Grated teeth and a fiercely arched eyebrow have no effect on Bubba and Randy Joe.

"Well listen, Little Lady. This here is a very complicated piece of machinery.. it's not your ipod or your makeup bag. This here's got movin' parts and stuff that can burn your little fingertips off. You ought to let us take a look."

Oh. Well, silly me!! How could I have forgotten? My X chromosome COMPLETELY prohibits all the logical and reasoning skills I'd gained in my twenty years.

I swear, the men in my life practically rotate my world for me. Without them, it would be daylight all year round!

Welcome to Marion, Mr. President!

Yesterday, the President of our decrepit nation decided to 'roadtrip' through my home town. Now mind you, Marion only takes about ten minutes to drive completely through. This single man required nearly every road, every intersection and every bridge to be completely shut down for HOURS. "Why?" One asks themselves. "Why am I standing here making a leaning tower of Pasta and Scotch tape in a grocery store, awaiting customers that surely are on their way..?" As the day continued, when nobody came to buy their customary toilet paper and donuts, I began to wonder if the zombie apocalypse had happened. "My God, I'm going to die here at work." Armed with a mop and a bottle of Windex, my first customer of the day approached me. "That dayum Obamars got us all clogged up like a dog eatin' cheese. Summbeetch I swurr.." According to this elderly gentlemen, The Presibama decided to stop in Marion to grab lunch. A five minute drive through the crummiest, most greasey-lard-laden BBQ diner in the county held every single road hostage for hours. Slightly relieved that I hadn't missed the Rapture, I rang out my first customer's prune juice and catfood with the enthusiasm of an overworked rest-area attendant.

Once the Men in Black gave the Green Light, it was pure mayhem. The Donner Party of McDowell burst through the doors like it was Free Ham Sunday. Mothers of BBQ waitresses gushed over how beautiful their daughters looked next to Mr. President. "We're all just so proud.. She is so brilliant! When asked what sides they offered, she said 'Hushpuppies and beans, sir!' Can you imagine? How many moms can say their kids held conversation with a president!"

Let's all celebrate with a box of wine and a carton of Newport lights.

All grumbling aside, I truly hope that the Obamas enjoyed their visit. I hope mister President enjoys the explosive Diarrhea that only a McDowell County meal can provide.

Let's Bitch.

Ahem. Introductions can be found under the 'About Me' tab. I formerly ran a blog called 'Food or Homework', which was pretty upbeat and positive. This, however, is not.

First and foremost, I guess I should inform those who may care, that I have graduated from the dumpiest school imaginable with an Associates in Applied Sciences. In Photography...... Scoff. While my instructors were fabulous, absolutely wonderful.. I gotta say ladies and gents.. That school is a f*beep*ing nightmare. If you are able to go straight into a university, do it. They tell us in high school that a Technical College can provide the same education that a university can. Well, shockingly enough, people lie.

Upon graduating, I dumped my perpetually hung over boyfriend and moved out on my own. I loved my independence, hated being alone. I decided to go back to school and save my money. Yadda yadda, I packed all of my beautiful things right back up and moved back in with the 'rents.  It's alright, I suppose. I miss the front porch more than anything. And how the house wasn't grounded, killed my microwave, and I especially miss the long, relaxing, (rusty and moldy) soaks in the big porcelain tub. I will fondly recall my daily episodes of lock jaw. But seriously, I loved that house. It was beautiful and perfect.

I digress.

Today's post.. and many posts after.. is merely a Bitch Blog.

Because folks,

These past few months have friggin' sucked. And it seems like the Suck is never ending. So feel free to laugh, cry, swear and ponder the purpose of the underwire on your bra.