I Pray For You

So, what do you write about on a day like this?

Is there anything that can be said or shared that is actually worthwhile?

I wanted to write a post about when I found out about 9/11.

But , fuck. What a waste. My life was touched. It will never be the same.

I know I am not alone in this.

My issue lies in the fact that there are so many more who lost so very much more than me on that awful day.

I lost a little bit of my sense of safety and well-being in this country. I live near Fort Carson, Schriever Air Force Base, 2 other Air Force bases, and NORAD. I was scared for a while, especially being so close to so many military installations. And NORAD.

But.

This is nothing.

Countless others lost their lives.

Even more lost loved ones. Husbands, wives, children, parents.

What I experienced was fleeting.

They will never be able to get back what they’ve lost.

I will always remember the moment I realized what was happening was real. I will never forget what I was doing or how it affected me.

But I want to put the spotlight on those who have been affected by this tragedy so much more than I.

I pray for you all. I pray for the ones who lost their lives. I pray for those who lived. For you. Your loved ones. For what you’ve lost. For what you may have gained since then.

I wish you nothing but the best.

What I Hate About Winter:

It’s fucking cold.

I Don’t Post Much Anymore

Why?

Because I’m just not funny any longer.

Why?

Maybe I need a good old bi-polar high (yes, family, I’m bi-polar – deal with it.) to get me rolling again.

Bi-Polar: Not good for some, Fucking Fantastic for me.

I get all kinds of productive shit done when I’m on a high.

Like, for instance, blogging. And all those shitty Facebook games. And shopping at fucking 3 o’clock in the morning.

You know, the important things, one generally cannot live without.

Bitches, I read some of my old posts. And I’m like, who the fuck is this girl and what the fuck is she on. Not a question. A statement.

What’s even better is that I don’t remember writing half that shit.

At least I get a good laugh too.

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Thank You For Making Me Think

And thank you for making others think.

I know your blog isn’t about us, but I thank you all the same.

It Would Be Great If It Was True

Rob Thomas tweeted to me.

That was a comment left on my blog. Now, I’m not sure if she meant it the way it sounds.

To me it sounds like I’m trying to pull a fast one.

I’m not.

Please.

One thing I will NOT do is lie.

If I wanted to do that I wouldn’t tell ya’ll things like:

1. I yelled Son of a whore in the principal’s office at the school my kids go to.
2. I was scared of that poopy smell I smelled. Especially when I’m sure what I meant to say is Fucking Shitty smell. Anyway.
3. It bothers me when one puts milk from two different jugs (No, not THOSE kind of jugs!! Although, that would probably be even MORE fucking disturbing.) into one glass.
4. I ate 7 hotdogs. In. One. Day.
5. My husband once told me me he didn’t want to do it (have sex for those of you more mature than I) because his eyes were too dry.
6. I told my husband he could have the used XBox 360 he found in the garbage at work for Father’s Day.
7. I love Graham Norton. No really. I LOVE him. What self respecting female would actually say that?
8. When my 7 year old was puking his guts out, all I could think of was how I was going to turn that into a blog post. I am MEAN.
9. I am a fucking retard.
10. The definition of my name, as defined by UrbanDictionary.com.
11. We use shit people throw away at a carwash. Please don’t judge me.
12. I like to write blog posts in the shitter.
13. I went to my shrink with salad dressing on my face. MY. GODDAMN. FACE. FUCK!
14. My 5 year old can’t spell her name. But she can spell Poop.

Would you admit to any of that shit if you could lie your motherfucking ass off?

I didn’t think so.

Yes. Rob Thomas tweeted to me. He did say the fuck word.

If you can’t see where he tweeted. The word Fuck. To ME! I will plaster that shit on this post.

And I circle it in, bright, motherfucking red. Just to make sure.

And let it be known, I am not artistic or talented enough to be able to fake a screen shot.

If I could I totally make Tom Hanks tweet that he thought I was great last night.

Or I’d make Prince William tweet his undying love. To me.

And when I’m Queen of Motherfucking England, I will have all you unbelieving, cocksucking shits beheaded.

I’d also like to point out when I type in Motherfucking I don’t get that little, squiggly red line saying it’s misspelled.

Nice.