Parental Advice Warning to the Young and Dumb

Q&A from Circle of Moms

I'm at a graduation giving some speech to snot nosed teenage know it alls. What do I say about parenting? The question was designed for parenting for young women who want to become moms. LOL Yeah right. Like I'm going to miss out on the other kids who need told... So, here's my answer.

First, to the boys: It takes two to tango, and while this culture seems to absolve the fathers from any and all responsibility of a child outside of money, the reality is too many deadbeat dads infest this world with their irresponsible uselessness. Children, our future, need their father's love and advice. Don't be with a woman you wouldn't mother. Do you know if your lover is pro-life or pro-choice? If you can't answer that question, you are already being irresponsible. If you don't think you ever want to have children, do us all a favor and get a vasectomy.

To the ladies: If you are not ready for children, be responsible. Boys will sell it like it's a used car with deceit and persistence. God gave them two heads, and nine times out of ten, you are talking to the one behind the zipper. Don't trust a man until you know the man enough to tell which head you are talking to. You wouldn't buy a car without a contract would you? Marriage is that contract. Lock them into that deal before pushing out their spawn.

Babies. A precious miracle. A gooey, sticky, time consuming, attention seeking miracle. Basic Military Training kind of prepared me for it… I had 3 minutes at a time to eat and had to run on 3 hours sleep, 3 to 5 miles a day, over 100 pushups and situps, and then beyond fatigued and starved, had to sit caffeine deprived in training, clean, problem solve and speak coherently, with someone screaming in my face. It was easier than motherhood because there was an end.

When you do become a mom, your intuition trumps all. Listen to it. Trust it. Right now? Take care of yourself. Use this time now to build confidence, trust your inner voice, find your inner peace, take vitamins, and enjoy your bubble bath. Don't take that bubble bath for granted. Someday, you won't have it.

That's all I could squeeze in within less than 2000 characters (including spaces). What I wanted to add?

I also suggest to have a good credit score before going into parenting. Don’t screw that up when everyone starts handing you master cards like it's a deck of cards for a drinking game. It's not a drinking game. Your credit means everything. Credit is short for Credibility. Savings is important, and don't blow it on the nursery. Half the stuff you could buy for a nursery is crap. You probably want to be in a house you own before your kid is walking. Why? Because then you can do whatever you want to the house to child proof it. You can build closets to keep things out of their reach. Repaint the walls when they draw all over them. Replace the carpet with something you won't be scrubbing on your hands and knees once a week so that it looks presentable. There's a million little things that stink renting with children. Own your house. Have a savings for fixing it when it breaks. Kids will break your house. They break everything. Speaking of which, anything heirloom quality, put it somewhere else like storage until your kid is your age now. 

You also want Life Insurance just in case you die. It probably won't happen ever. I mean, only vampires die. But just in case you get bit by a vampire and die, you will want Life Insurance so someone can afford to bury your butt. In addition, a Will. That's where you get to pick who gets your kids. It's not an easy decision, so start planning that part now.

Don't judge parents. You have this June Cleaver paradigm in your head right now. My kid would never do that. I am going to do this and this and that and that, and totally be a better mom than that person over there, and that totally makes me the Dr. Phil of Parenting. WRONG. You have no idea. This is one subject no amount of babysitting will prepare you for. And Karma, she's watching you. When you are vocal about it? You make life harder on the mom you are judging. 


NOTE: When I first saw the email for Circle of Moms with this, I replied. Well Circle of Moms connected to my personal Facebook account instead of my Circle of Moms account, so I deleted it and reposted it with my regular Circle of Moms account. I use a pen name right now for my blog because I don't want my inlaws and my family to read my blog. If you had my inlaws, you wouldn't want them to read my blog either. You might also have killed them in their sleep as well, if they were your inlaws. They are lucky they aren't your inlaws. 

Anyway, Last advice to kids I would NEVER say at a commencement speech though it NEEDS to be said... Good Luck Kiddos. Fuck Responsibly.


Totes almost forgot to add it... Link to the Q&A... You can vote for it if you want to, but don't feel compelled to or anything. I am not here to compete with other bloggers for any internets. Take me as I am or kiss my legos. 

http://www.circleofmoms.com/question/you-were-giving-commencement-speech-whats-one-piece-advice-youd-give-young-women-who-1707124?trk=profile_body

Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

http://www.inkcinct.com.au/

I've read a lot of charming blogs about Mothers Day. I saw a lot of Facebook posts of moms getting breakfast in bed, bubbles baths to read their favorite book, beautiful pics of visiting a grandma or something... Here's my secret. I hate Mother's Day. It ranks up there with Valentine's Day. It's a limp dick. A holiday designed to give you orgasmic level expectations to leave you sitting frustrated and disappointed because there just isn't enough blood pumping in the right place at the right time leaving you with a useless sack of sperm to play with making you go "completely nuts." And you can't be pissed because you love the impotent person enough to not hurt their feelings. So when I see pictures of women enjoying a bubble bath (no nudity duh), I want to diabolically throw glitter all over them and their perfectly clean bathroom to truly make them sparkle. Nothing personal. Just jealousy.

My mother's day was not a good day for the most part. I don't think it was my negativity that did me in. I actually started off the day positive.

• I tried to write and didn't get to because I was servicing my kids (not feeding them, but things like getting them that thing that is 2 feet in front of them and breaking up fist fights) too frequent to focus or be creative. 
• Then Mother Nature gave me her Mother's Day present (the monthly uterine wrecking ball), and of course, I'm out of all my hygiene products... 
• Why do I sometimes call my oldest kid Hercules? Let me see your 6 year old daughter rip out a RECLINING sectional piece of the sofa to the middle of the floor and flip it, and tear out a piece of drywall for fun. 
• What goes better with eggs than a heaping cup of Baking Soda? Accidentally dumping baking soda on your frying dozen eggs while looking for the missing baking powder for pancakes, now that's the priceless shit Mastercard can't buy. So basically, everyone had sandwiches, everyone except me of course because not enough bread. 
• Then at the brink of passing out from hunger, I got a Big Mac (my mother's day breakfast lunch and dinner) on my way to my mom's house devouring it while driving and handing kids stuff, meaning I just drove like a drunken crazy person, while listening to the wonderful music of my children screaming, squealing (horror movie scream) and fighting. 
• Drama like Jerry Springer on TNT ensued at mom's house... over me not getting my nephew I was watching home fast enough because that would be my responsibility. And why was it so important? They were planning to take him to his dad's mom's house. Yes, if you are 10 minutes late for that, the apocalypse would definitely begin. Ironically, he was going to be on time, but everybody had to dig their own grave and blame me, why not? It's my fault because I chose to have my children. 
• Then I took all 3 kids to Dairy Queen by myself, and then devoured 2 slices of different cakes I couldn't taste thanks to the cold (like dieting suicide right there).

Mind you too, I endured that day with a migraine, the period, a swollen ankle that I supposedly sprained 2 months ago but obviously did a little more damage than that, and i can't prove it because the 3 trips to the doctor's office over it were all about how it's normal for an ankle to still be swollen. I was also tired since I accidentally took my kid's antihistamine aiming for my Tussin. And I have the snot monster cold, meaning my throat hurts, I'm coughing every 5 seconds like death, and I have green ooze coming out of my nose.

In addition, a few days ago, and I hate to admit this on a blog, but I will because I think some people can sadly empathize to an extent... I was damn near suicidal. The only thing to stop me was the fact that I didn't have a babysitter for it. Here's a list of my current goals to explain...

1. Divorce-- more expensive than getting married. Just like a wedding, requires a shit ton of planning. I do hope to be the most beautiful anti-bride on that big day. I think my colors are going to be Funeral Black and Mistress Red. If I could just get the date planned. The husband doesn't seem to care when it happens, like the sooner the better. I mean we are in anti-love, young anti-love. But, we just don't want to rush it since that would mean getting 2 big houses furnished for the kids...

2. Do my resume-- I know this sounds like an item on a to do list, but for me in my world, it's a long term goal. Why? Because I do everything with my children, so it takes about a thousand times longer to accomplish something. But I do kind of need an income if I plan on being a single mom. I'm a little old to actually get paid for hooking or any other "worst case scenario" solutions I had going for the last decade.

3. Write a book-- Face it. Nobody wants to hire a mom who has been out of work for so long. This is my back up plan. I was thinking of telling the story about my in laws and the possible Santeria curse, except I'm going to label the book fiction because I don't think anyone will believe me that it's a true story, plus i can deny being a part of it. This way, my inlaws can fund the divorce (usually the anti-bride's family pays for such events, usually because most of the gifts are for the anti-bride like 17 different blenders or is that weddings?).

4. Clean the house--- I keep saying this for years. I really do want to have a clean house. Some day I suppose I will get it. Until then, I'll just keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. In case you missed it, I have 3 children under the age of 7, and one is hyperactive high functioning autism. Did you read the part about the sofa?

5. Beat up the demon--- He might be a hallucination. He might be the Santeria Curse. He might be an actual demon who has been in this house disguising himself as a little boy for the last 3 years and is the cause of things like the constant mess and the divorce. Negativity spawns negativity. I did try burning sage. Made it worse. Holy water helps though, so that's what has me thinking it might not be a chronic sleep deprived hallucination. Either way, I beat it up once, but since it fucks with me every time I try to sleep, I really would like to kill the little bugger. He will be in the book if I ever get to write it.

6. Get a new car--- All 3 cars are in the shop. Two of them are totally done for. Nothing like a car payment before getting divorced.

7. Clean myself up from addiction--- I'm addicted to Motrin. Actually NSAIDS in general. I take at least 400 mg a day up to the 1600 mg limit. Why? If my ankle doesn't hurt from tripping over that pebble months ago running to a crying kid diving into a mud puddle (I might of did a flip without a high dive), then it's my knees. See, I'm double jointed, and now I'm old, and they don't make WD40 for people. Only tin men in Oz get that kind of medical care. But then, there's the children induced migraines. It's not just me. They give other people migraines too.

I am honestly getting to a point where I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm sick of cleaning a mess that gets dirty the instant I clean it. I'm sick of taking care of everyone else because I'm totally neglecting myself, and nobody will let me take care of myself. Not at all. Not just my children, but also the husband, my family, my friends... I'm being consumed by people. I don't know how to make it stop. It's like I'm in a black hole, and I struggle and struggle just to prolong the sucking into the abyss thinking I'm close to getting out but no where near it.

Then Mother's Day Miracle (if you use your imagination)... I'm talking to my mother on the phone after the day decided to shut the fuck up for us...

When my mother was in college and dating her first husband, he was working down the street from her mom's house. She borrowed his car for school. So they met up every day at my grandmother's house at noon for lunch. My grandmother, every day, made them a nice lunch. My mother said, at that time, she didn't realize how special that was for my grandmother to do for them. She didn't realize how much work it was.

But this story cleared up a misconception I had. My grandmother was an alcoholic. She died Christmas of 1998 from liver failure. I was under the impression that grandma started drinking at motherhood. I mean the woman had 7 kids, couldn't drive (no license), and was poor. Her part time jobs, she walked to them. I just assumed that sucked so bad she had to drink. But my mother informed me her alcoholism started after the kids grew up and moved out. She was so depressed when she had nobody to take care of that she really enjoyed those little things like making lunch for my mom and her boyfriend every day.

My mom swore to me that I may not see this now... When I was my kids' age, she couldn't wait for me to grow up too. But some day, I will feel that same pain my grandmother felt, and my mother felt. That pain of boredom. The pain of figuring shit out and getting into the groove of the chaos with the kids for it to totally fucking disappear and leave me bored.

Because I score high on the IQ test for the visioning things part, you know, taking a 2D object and making it 3D in my head... I can see that. I can almost feel that. I can imagine my house empty, void of the chaos my children bring, and that is truly depressing... That future just gave me clarity that I desperately needed.

My grandmother used to say, "Life is great, as long as we don't weaken." 

Now how's that for supermom? Who else can nurse her granddaughter through a very trying time in her life from the grave? My grandma. Badass. And through who? My momma, BadAss Junior. All so that BadAss the third can get her groove on.

For reference, my Mother's Day Facebook Statuses...

This one, the first one, I made the extra attempt at being perky and positive.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there, whether you have kids or not, because I think if you don't have kids, celebrating this day anyway is the only way you will get to celebrate this day with all the shit implied with this day. A day to yourself. To get a break. To relax. The only way you get to do that as mom is to celebrate this day BEFORE you become a mom. So Happy Mother's Day to all you people who have a uterus. To all you moms out there, if your things you married and your spawns let you have some time to yourself, you should totally thank them with some home cooked meal tomorrow or next week. So far, we'll be ordering pizza. And to everyone who is all "this is the day we appreciate moms for their hard work," Fuck You. You should do that every day you dirty bastard.

and then

Well today royally sucked. It sucked, swallowed, and then spat what was swallowed. This day was just a dirty whore.
I wrote it all out about the day. It's long. Like 2000 words long. I'm so tempted to post it somewhere public for all those involved.

Let me remind family members something. I blog. I blog about my life. While I currently blog anonymous, that is soon about to change. Maybe if I blogged these adventures I experience in Jerry Springer Wonderland, maybe people would actually start acting in a way that wouldn't embarrass themselves if they read about it on the internet. Seriously, if all of you are so righteous, then it shouldn't bother anyone for me to tell the world should it?

and then

AND in the future, I love children. I don't mind babysitting other people's children. BUT I am overwhelmed. Most of you this refers to can't possibly understand that with your simple easy lives full of people doing most of your work for you, but that doesn't change the fact that YOUR KID IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. If you want YOUR kid home to YOUR HOUSE at a certain time, then YOU need to get YOUR HAPPY ASS over here and pick up YOUR kid. If you want me to drive YOUR kid anywhere with my 3 kids to get them home for any reason, you are on MY SCHEDULE. That same situation is now in effect for my mother as well. You are not entitled to favors. AND you could be a little more appreciative of them as well.

What kind of drop out are you? Bill Gates? or Glenn Beck?

There seems to be two types of High School Diploma people who find a successful career in life. The computer geeks, and the overzealous conservative nut jobs, so I guess it can go either way.


What kind of Drop Out are you? Bill Gates? or a Glenn Beck? Take the quiz.



Disclaimer: This quiz has the credibility of a magazine on the news stand. No real thought went into it. Do I really look like Sigmund Freud to you? He never had an ass this hot.


1. What is the area of a circle?

A. The place where the circle is.
B. pi times radius squared.

2. A unicorn is walking down the street. Why?

A. Whoever wrote this question is a dumbass; there's no such thing as unicorns.
B. It could be for a million reasons such as a kid is trick or treating.

3. Where do you find the most accurate news?

A. Fox.
B. The internet.

4. What is the internet?

A. A place full of stupid people who must be taught.
B. A place full of opportunities for anyone to take technology and make it better.

5. How do you love your lover?

A. Missionary position, but usually my right hand and a good fantasy. Wait, no, that's all a huge sin. Sex is bad.
B. Rockin the kama sutra porno style, ever since I moved out of my mom's basement.

Add up your answers. If you have more answer A's than B's, you are a Glenn Beck kind of drop-out. Go back to school and at least learn some grammar. If you answer more B's than A's, you are a Bill Gates kind of drop out. Instead of college, consider some small business youtube tutorials to take your genius to the next level.

Alzheimer Patients say the darndest things

You know how kids say the darndest things? They aren't the only ones. Alzheimer Patients can come up with some better shit just because they are allowed to say words like shit.

Now I'm not making light of Alzheimer's. My grandmother had it, and it was not easy on anyone involved. More than likely, I'm going to be facing either Alzheimer's or something considerably close in mind loss if cancer doesn't get me first (that too runs in my family). If you read my blog, you already know I have symptoms of senility at the very least forming, though it's really severe, chronic sleep deprivation mixed with some autism, PTSD, and MOM Syndrome. I'm a cocktail of disorders, and as I build a tolerance to my current crazy content levels, I'm sure my body will naturally add some more with age. I will always be metaphorical to a stiff drink. A lot of men I'm sure are jealous.

I can already picture it, me in a nursing home, laying in bed with my stuffed dog named Fluffy explaining to nurses how to find the 3rd derivative of a function while having difficulty adding 2 and 2 together, and then start talking about old Santa Barbara characters from the 80's like they are real family members. Of course, they'll totally discredit the real shit I'm saying as nonsense because who really does know if I'm telling you how to find the 3rd derivative accurately or not?

So I have a few friends who work in a nursing home. To avoid any HIPAA issues, I shall not mention anything else about the friends or corporations sponsoring their paychecks... These are my favorite stories I've picked up from them...

1. So there's a priest who is a patient. Of his own volition, he chose to watch Ridiculousness on MTV. Of all the episodes staff might walk in on to watch this man watch this show, it hits a point where the show googles "Vibrator Police," and then proceeds to show a video of a man getting arrested. The cop pulls out of the man's jacket pocket a huge pink vibrator, and while the cop has his head turned, the man pulls out a pair of pink thong and puts it over the cops head. Then the cop rips the thong off and starts to cuff the guy binding his wrists, and the guy picks up the vibrator with his teeth, and starts smacking the cop in the face with it. The priest was watching intently like this wasn't unusual or anything for him.

2. An alzheimers patient was quoted saying, "The heavenly father would not give me Alzheimers and not let me remember it."  I want this on a t-shirt.

3. There's a patient, mid 80's, male, who yells repetitive things all day. For example, if he wants water, he'll repeat the word water for hours, even after you give him water. The Star Spangled Banner, one day he was singing it and got stuck on "The Rockets Red Glare" and repeated that phrase for hours. Non stop. Loud. People hear it down the entire hall. So, a nurse goes in. He had a penis issue. I won't get into his issue, but it's not gross or STD or anything too humiliating. It's he's old at a nursing home. The nurse thought one thing was going on, and realized that wasn't the case after further investigation, and she looks at him and says, "I'm going to have to figure out what I'm going to do with your penis." So he replies, "Use it. Use my penis. Use my penis..." Repeated "Use my penis" for hours.

4. So nurse working Alzheimer's unit trying to chart on the patients, sitting at her desk, is surrounded by Alzheimer patients. Let me introduce them to you. First, you have a woman who thinks she's in school yelling loudly, "I need a 7, 7, 7 TEACHER? I need a 7, 7, 7, Teacher? I need a 7, 7, 7." Then there's a patient who only says the word "Giver," and she repeats it fast like a tongue twister nonstop, "Giver giver giver giver giver giver." Then there's the lady who pets you on the arm as she says, "My mom and dad, SHUT UP... My mom and dad, SHUT UP..." Then a Navy guy who is in a Merry Walker, trying to get out of it, screaming, "I need a knife! I need a knife, knife, knife, knife. If I had a used one, I'd use my used one. Dammit. I need a knife!..." Then a minister, because Navy guy is cussing, "If Jesus came down today, what would he say?" over and over. Then there's the lady who is constantly, "Excuse me, I need my bill please, I'm ready to go home." All simultaneously. Like we thought kids were rough with their juice-needing, butt-wiping, start-the-movie needs. My nurse friend looked at me and said, "Could you imagine charting like that?" and I was like, "Can you imagine trying to pee on the potty like that?"

5. So a minister decided to visit the Alzheimer's unit to have an actual service in the dining room for the patients. The intent was to donate some time with the patients, sing with them, pray for them... He brings his two children with him, approximately aged 12 and 14. Everything was going fine until one patient grabs his hands and screams, "For God's sakes, do the right thing and open the door!" He tells her he can't, but he'll say a prayer for her, so she starts screaming, "You are nothing but the devil! You are a cult leader!" and then she warns all the other patients that they are trying to make everyone join a cult, and now they must escape. So all the patients try to push through the door, yelling and shoving the minister, meanwhile one with sexual behavior issues was grabbing his ass frequently. So the minister found the nurses, said a prayer for the staff to cope with the patients, and fled the scene with his children. He hasn't been back since. Pillar of Salt stuff, you know how that is. Don't. Look. Back.


Now I do love my friends. All of them. A lot of that is because I always find the good in people. Wow, I'm starting to rock the back-handed compliments. Anyway, I do find the most humor in the fact that we compete/compare our days. I've heard many people compare old age to revisiting the toddler years, like we came in this world wearing diapers, and we will leave this world in diapers. The caregivers do the same shit. My friends and I compare frequently what it's like to care for people, and we often compete. "My day sucked worse than yours because I worked the Alzheimer's unit on a full moon, and no it's not like kids. It's worse than kids. I have 20 patients on my hall..." And I'm like, "Whatever, you get to drug your patients when they start acting crazy."  Really, if we want to make it a competition, it's easier to do one job for 20 people than it is to do 20 jobs for 3.

But the serious side... Listen to a nurse friend talk about work, and while you may laugh at some of the funny stories, the reality will piss you off. It will scare you. The corporate nature of healthcare is a very scary monster. I guess that's another blog post somewhere.

Give me some of that Gangsta Shit! Beeyotch!

The Klonopin Chronicles makes this status on her Facebook today...


Today's Fun: Use gangsta slang whenever possible because nothing's funnier than to hear a middle-aged white lady in a suit say "fat stacks."

Some of the responses include:


I Want a Dumpster Baby: damn. that's a cold ass honky.


DJ Bray: And thug life! Don't forget thug life!
KC Response: Love thug life! Totes when I'm turning left across a double yellow line.


John Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt (Triple J): fat stacks? Betta keep those duckies downtown for somebody ganks em'


Lisa Who?: When we drive " uh oh its 5-0" really mom? What are you " ridin dirty" lmao maybe i am kid maybe i am


Pimp of the Year Award: I enjoy the word chillax. The kids have informed me that I should not include it in my vocabulare.


Ole Mama Hubbard: WORD from ya mutha is poignant and annoying to them. SCORE!


There's more awesomeness in the shit, fo shizzle, like click the link and shit, after you read my shit, cause I sound like Juvenile, shit, thats how rappers rhyme sometimes shit....

Anyway, I like rap music and hip hop, mainly because I like shaking my booty. I used to have like a career and be professional and work and stuff before being a lazy stay at home mom who obviously does nothing like the cleaning fairy does it all, and the diaper fairy, and the cooking fairy... Anyway, I always got strange looks driving down the street with my nerd glasses on, hair in a bun, wearing a blazer and white shirt, looking all professional and shit, did I mention I'm white?, blasting Nas and Tupac like a G. 

One time, I was driving and listening to this song by Bone Thugs and Harmony... Down 71 (The Getaway)

And, I approached this strange narrow one way street downtown to a stop sign, a couple cars in front of me, and my window was down all the way, and I wasn't even thinking about the music. I look to my left seeing a bunch of government cars, near the police station and courts, and a dude was walking to one of those cars in civilian clothes, but armed with something job related, and as the song hit at 2-38 (2 minutes 38 seconds into the song), he flipped out... took cover behind his car door, started to draw his weapon, saw me watching in my car with the "oh fuck" look on my face and realized it was my music, and he started laughing hysterically. He shook his head laughing the whole way into his car and was still laughing when I finally got to drive off. 

So anyway, I was basically a g-funk in high school. Some people call that whiggerism, but I prefer the term Cracka-lottin... So here are some of my gangsta euphemisms, in the vernacular of my people, gangbangin jargon... the shit I still say once in a while now that I'm an OG (another word for old person or as most people say, an original gansta, old person) and grew up and shit, pullin a Michael Jackson (changing from black to white) on my personality... 

Aw Heelll No... Still flies out of my mouth. Sometimes I add, "Bitch hold my purse," when I really am about to scrap, though I haven't been in a fight since like 2003. Now in like 2008, a bitch did threaten to stab me with her fork with this crazy look in her eye with zero provocation except her man checking me out, who I've known longer than she has, like he was my homeboy, and I know his history with hos and I ain't no ho to go there anyway, but she backed down when I stood up and dared her try. But that was a "bitch hold my purse" moment. Who the fuck uses a fork as a shank? Prisoners... Really fucked up prisoners. I'm glad she backed down though. I probably would have hurt her bad back then, like I was still in shape from the military, but now, she'd kick my ass. If I kicked her ass back then, she'd see me on the streets today and retaliate. She that crazy.

Let my nuts go... I scream this to my kids. It's another of saying, Let me Live. Give me some space. Let me breathe. Let me do my thing... I know, mother of the year right? If you want to know the song I ganked (stole) it from, here it is...

Represent... or reppin the hillbillies... I'm not from the city. If I tried to be like, "Reppin the east side..." fuck that would be fake. Nah, I keep it real. I'm reppin the rednecks of the mountain mamas, reppin God's Country... Streets here are dangerous, gotta watch out for raccoons and opossums, dem fuckers don't fuck around...

Shit is On Like Donkey Kong: I usually use this one when I'm at war. I wouldn't say it before a fight, but I will say it when my cable company is an ass right before I file paperwork with the Attorney General. Shit is on bitches. It's on. Game face. Get my Mind Right, money right, ready for war...

Shit is tight yo... That's me being silly and totally trying to be white...

Bitches be trippin... That's like for when bitches be trippin. Like acting crazy and shit, whether they are freaking out about their man cheatin like calling every 5 seconds, or whether they posse up and talk shit... 

You betta come correct... That's for when people fuck up their approach. On a page I admin, people get on there be like, "Fuck Obama, fucking racial slurr," when really all they gotta be like is, "Yo, I really don't agree with his take on gun control." Come correct and you don't get banned. 

You frontin: Meaning you are delusionally pretending to be the exact opposite of what you are. Example, "Don't judge me from my past. I'm a different person now. I'm clean now." Bitch, you just snorted a line last night, you frontin. Or, "i'm going to kick your ass," Bitch you ain't going to do shit stop frontin... 

Got the homegirl hookup: Meaning I went to the store and some girl was working who I have known for years, so she gives me the employee discount on my items, or a free soda... Drive thru Wendy's and I get 2 extra cheeseburgers... Got my hair did for half the price... or can you get me tickets to the football game and you get me the best seats in the house... 

Masta Playa: that's really just another word for triflin whore, but one with pride and a little more class.

My public service announcement to gangsta's:

To people in the game: Pharmaceuticals is dope yo. Go legit with some fat stacks. You get a company ride and free samples. 5.0 neva know what hit em when you go legit. To those who'd empty a clip on a fool, the badasses, the ones you just don't fuck with... Join the Marine Corps. You ain't no killa until you Devil Dog. Semper Fi really is another way of saying Ride or Die. Marines are the illest G's we got. Rise above the ghetto!

If you ain't part of my clique, then you best

Be Easy... Holla

(warm regards... TTYL-talk to you later)

Mommy's Cup of Sanity

So I made up a recipe for Circle of Moms because I liked the assignment. They asked to create and upload an original recipe that described your blog. I knew it had to have coffee and booze in it. Chocolate. Cake batter because I like to eat cake batter like it's pudding. Diet Coke and Michael Jackson. Lots of nonsense that in the end makes sense or awesome. Humor. Cheesecake because Golden Girls, and you know, this was definitely worth posting my super secret awesome Bavarian Cream Cheesecake Recipe I got from a dream. Like what better way to introduce the world to that? I'm really amazed nobody has come up with it already.

So I created Mommy's Cup of Sanity. 

Well, it made a Cookbook thing. Unfortunately, I didn't notice the email until the day after it was featured, but anywho... It was featured because it's awesome, or because they ran out of options for features.... Maybe they were drinking the rum the recipe calls for the day they featured it. That COULD happen you know. People do stuff like that all the time, drink booze and make decisions they later regretted... If that's the case, my recipe could have also inspired girl on girl action, office strip teases, and other amazing things.

What might actually be another psychic dream about the next Expendables...

So I had this dream I'm going to be in the next Expendables movie, and I'm driving in a car with Sylvester Stallone behind me in the back seat and Bruce Willis next to me in the Passenger seat. There were other people there but I don't know who they were.

I'm on the interstate driving, and everyone is asleep except Bruce who is totally hitting on me. This was the conversation...

Me: Dude, for real, I can't decide between you and Sylvester. You are supposed to let the internal passion stuff build as we flirt in acting and stuff for like days before actually releasing it into hot amazing sex. Duh.

Bruce: So are you really going to pick Sly over me?

Me: He was Rocky.

Bruce: So what? I was John McClane.

Me: Good point.

Bruce: You really need to think about what you could be missing out on. I am not as old looking as Sly. People would think we belong together.

Me: You know when I developed little crushes on you guys, I never thought I'd actually meet one of you let alone both of you at the same time. It's just not fair. Thank God John Cena and Channing Tatum aren't going to be in this film.

Bruce: Well John Cena actually already has a small part. We are thinking of adding Channing to the team this movie. He's still thinking about it.

Me: Really? Fuck me. You both might just lose me to Channing.

Bruce: That's so superficial of you. It's because he's closer to your age isn't it? You have known him how long?

Me: Can I not just be a whore and fuck all of you?

Bruce: No. You have to decide.

Me: Is this why celebrities always have fucked up relationships? Like Brad loves Angelina, but he also loves Jennifer...

Bruce: Exactly.

Me: If it weren't for the paparazzi, I could so totally get away with fucking all you guys. Fucking Paparazzi could kill a wet dream...

Then I woke up.


If you haven't already read it... Roundhouse Bitch is a blog post of reasons Sylvester should choose me to be his love interest in the next Expendables.