Wednesday, November 24, 2010

I'm speechless. Well, not really.

Dear Anonymous Emailer,
I'm a sarcastic person by nature. I can understand that sometimes that isn't translated very well on my blog. Did you get that? MY blog. I assume that everyone who reads what I write knows what sarcasm is and how it's used. I assume everyone knows there may be a "bad" word (or three) in my posts. I assume that we can all be an adult and understand that everyone has different thoughts and ideas. I've assumed wrong.
If you feel like I'm a horrible person for making fun of those people native to the state in which I currently reside, fine. Stop reading my blog RIGHT NOW, drive your uptight ass down here, and see if you can muddle your way through their nonsense. I dare you. Those posts are supposed to be humorous. This is obviously another personality trait you lack. That makes two if you need me to count them for you... 1. Sarcasm. 2. Humor. Need me to keep going?
If you think I'm promoting drinking and drugs (to kids- where the hell that came from, I'll never know) by telling you people that I have a glass (or bottle) of champagne and a muscle relaxer (or two) to help me sleep some nights, then you fall off a building, break a large percentage of the bones in your body, and then try to lead a somewhat normal life. By the way, remember that commercial from the '80's when the Dad catches the kid doing drugs? Remember what the kid said? "I learned it from watching you." Chances are, your kids are learning their bad habits from you, not me. Where do you think I learned how to drink and curse? That's Mama. She's damn proud of it too.
And speaking of...if you think I curse like a sailor, well, then, you're correct. If you have a problem with that, stop fucking reading my damn blog. I don't criticize your obviously fake, 24/7 sunshine and rainbows blog. I don't like yours, so guess what? I don't read it. You don't like mine? Stop fucking reading it.  
I didn't start my blog so you could read it. I started my blog so I could bitch about my life. If you happened to stumble across it, fine. Keep on stumbling right on over to the next one. I don't need your bullshit. I have enough of my own, thankyouverymuch.
An obviously drugged out, alcoholic, broken-down, hypocritical (my fave), horrible role model.
Oh, by the way... kiss it, bitch.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

what the hell does that mean?

I've been stewing on this for a few days and wasn't sure what I was
stewing about. On Monday I went to my first bi-weekly appointment with
the nutritionists for the Gestational Diabetes. I've been going once a
month since week 8 of this pregnancy and I am proud to have kept my
sugars under control via exercise and diet. Up until this point I've
been praised and patted on the back for all the hard work that goes
into that and it is hard work and a huge pain in the ass. I thought my
problem was that they were being a little nit-picky with the type of
bread that I've been buying. The brand we've been buying is low carb
and has higher than 3 grams of fibre per slice which is what they

So, I'm with the dietician before going into see the Doctor and she's
giving me a hard time about my pre-breakfast numbers because they are
higher than they should be and I'm going to need to change up my bed
time snacks so they'll get lower and then on the way to the Dr, whose
office is down the hall she asks if I had any trouble losing the baby
weight from my last pregnancy five years ago and she gets a shocked
look on her face when I tell her that not only did I not have trouble
but that I went below my pre-pregnancy weight and then she asks me if
Diabetes runs in my family and when I say "no" she gets another big
surprised look on her face and says "that's odd".

And three days later I'm sitting here thinking to myself "What the
hell was that supposed to mean?" Do I look like I come from a family
rife with Diabetes? Do I look like I'm on the verge of ballooning up
into morbid obesity? Up until this point I've felt pretty good about
how I'm looking this pregnancy. I'm still fitting into some non-
pregnancy pants, I'm walking two to three times a day. I'm not bloated
with fluids, My face is still thin. Now I'm wondering if I'm not
seeing something that others are. All I can say is "Bitch!"

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I recently found out about someone I know.  They are choosing to partake in certain activities that the majority of people would frown upon.  And she just laughs, and says, "Yeah, I am being naughty".  This goes back to an earlier whine asking, doesn't she know better? 
The proverbial slap across the face is desperately needed to wake this woman up to the damage she is causing in the lives of two young people.  She needs to shut her mouth, close her legs and turn down the volume.