About Me

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I'm 25 and clueless, trying to find my way through a world that is becoming more and more complicated. I'm a single mommy, learning the ropes of parenthood and adulthood and trying not to mess my child up too bad in the process. I moved to Kansas almost 5 years ago from Ohio, where I currently live with my beautiful 5 year old daughter, and our dachshund Oscar. I'm a shy person on the outside, but on the inside I'm a total weirdo. I always speak before I think, (yeah, read that one again) I dance like an epileptic, and I laugh at myself constantly. I love fart jokes and dirty language...who doesn't? And if you're one of those people that don't...well then, fuck you. *fart*

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The fucking WIND, yo!

If you don’t live in Kansas, you aren’t allowed to complain about the wind. Ever. Because you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

The wind out here these past few days has been vicious. You would think that as a full grown adult, the wind would not be able to uproot you and knock you on your ass all by itself. WRONG! It can, and it does. You’ll be standing at the gas pump, pumping carefully, trying to hit that $20 mark without going over by so much as a penny because when you do it feels like you’ve won a fucking game show, and BAM! A big ass gust of wind comes along and bowls you over. I have been unsuspectingly knocked on my ass by an invisible force more than once…and recently.

But no wind-related incidents that I can remember were as bad as my trip to Wal-Mart this past Sunday. I went to stock up on baby shit - not literally, as I’ll have plenty of that in a few more weeks, but figuratively. I am buying craploads of diapers, wipes and other baby goodies. I figure it’ll be good to have it all ahead of time, because after I wreck my vagina popping out a kid, I’m not gonna feel like going out much. Sound logic, yeah?

So at this particular Wal-Mart, the parking lot is lacking any kind of structure that might protect you from the elements. So if the wind is blowing like a motherfucker, you’re on your own. This was the case on Sunday. I opened my door to get out of the car, and the wind ripped it from my hands. I was just happy nobody was parked next to me, because I wasn’t in the mood to move my car to another spot and pretend like nothing happened. So Peanut and I managed to make it into the store without incident. But when we came back out it was a completely different story.

So anyway, we get everything we need (and a few things we don’t) and go to leave the store. I swear the wind got stronger while we were in there, because when we were navigating the cart through the parking lot, it was impossible to do so in a straight line. Then we get halfway through the parking lot, and the giant frozen pizza I just bought GOES FLYING OUT OF THE CART. Seriously, like the damn thing was made of Styrofoam or something. Peanut starts screaming “OMIGOD MOM OUR PIZZA IS FLYING AWAY!!” And I’m like “SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK FUCK!” Because when I panic, my filter is completely gone. I say whatever comes to mind, and hell let’s face it, it got lost in the wind this time anyway so it’s not like anyone heard me. I choose to believe that if nobody heard me, it didn’t happen. So I totally didn’t swear in front of my child like a careless asshole.

By this point I've decided that I really want that fucking pizza for dinner and I just paid $7 for it so I’m going after that bastard. It was a Sunday morning so there wasn’t any activity in the parking lot, so fuck it – game on. I stooped over and ran, arms outstretched, reaching for my cheese covered salvation, as the butthole wind keeps pushing it further and further away. This was no easy feat as I can hardly even reach the ground anymore, but I was determined. I looked like a fool, I knew it, but I didn’t care. I heard this documentary style monologue inside my head, in the voice of Steve Irwin, describing me as the deadly predator stalking her prey. It was actually pretty awesome. I felt like a champ.

Oy, isn't she a beauty?

With the encouragement of The Crocodile Hunter, I caught that bitch pizza. And I think I made my 5 year olds’ day at the same time because she was laughing really hard when I got back to the cart. Although that may have had something to do with the fact that I was holding it above my head like a trophy and doing a victory dance.


At least I got my pizza. And after re-arranging some toppings, it baked up just fine and tasted great. I had three delicious slices. Totally worth it.

Friday, May 25, 2012

If wishes were fishes, we’d all smell fucking awful.

So, someone asked me the other day: “If you could have one wish, guilt free, consequence free, what would it be?”

Well, what an interesting question. There are so many things this world needs that a simple wish could fix. World Peace. Universal Healthcare. Cure cancer. End World Hunger. Go back in time and kill Hitler. It all sounds so lovely, doesn’t it? A wish like this would be a big responsibility, know what I mean? I have such a big heart, and I would love to use that wish for the better of mankind. I hardly had to think about it.

So, what would I wish for? It's a no-brainer. I'd wish for the ability to teleport at will.

I'm so awesome for thinking of that.

Yeah, I know I’m a selfish bitch. But you have to admit that being able to do that would be fucking awesome and you would all be totally jealous.

What would I do with such a talent, you ask?

*rubs hands together maniacally*

This is where it gets good. I mean, an ability like this has some real promise. So get this - I would totally use it to work for the government. I mean, how much money could Obama save on his campaign if he never had to worry about transportation costs? Or personal protection? Would he even have a need for the secret service anymore?

“What’s that, Mr. President? A dangerous man in the crowd? Holy shit, he has a gun?! Hold onto your nuts, sir. We’re fucking outta here.” And then I’d cross my arms and blink like Barbara Eden just for effect and we'd disappear and everyone in the world would be like: “She’s so fucking cool, I want to be her friend and buy her lavish gifts and pay for her children’s college education.” And I’d totally allow that because hey, college ain’t cheap. And I really like designer purses, but I’m too cheap to buy them for myself. So get out your credit cards and get to shopping, douchebags. FYI, my favorite color is pink.

And Mr. Obama would definitely have to let me live in the White House to make sure he was secure at all times. We would be freakin’ besties. Our adorable children would get along perfectly and be best friends, and Michelle and I would do Zumba together. I have no idea what the fuck Zumba really is, but the name alone makes it sound fun so I’m totally in. And Michelle seems like a real cool lady so I bet she’d have some interesting ideas about how to use my newfound ability for the greater good. I mean, I’m going to need someone in my corner with a strong moral compass to keep me on the straight and narrow. Otherwise I’ll just be teleporting into men’s dressing rooms all the time and otherwise wreaking widespread havoc just for the pure fun of it all.

And oh, the havoc I would wreak. I would love nothing more than to pop into the closets of people I hate and scare the living shit out of them at random, for the rest of their lives. They would never sleep well again...but I would sleep like a baby. The most awesome baby in the history of the world.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Shhh, everything's gonna be okay now. I'm back.

I know…I’m an asshole for leaving you hanging like that.

I sincerely apologize for being such a neglectful douchebag and not blogging for however-freaking-long. I should be tied to a chair and forced to eat broccoli for my crimes. (By the way, if anyone actually tries to carry that out, keep in mind that when I get free – and I WILL get free – I will find you and kill you.) So anyway, yeah. So sorry and stuff. Here, look at this cute puppy and forgive me as your heart melts.

So yeah…I guess we should get to the whole “what I’ve been doing with my life” thing. Living in the tiny and totally NOT exciting Kansas town that I do, not a lot has changed. I have the same job. I still live in the house I recently bought, and I’m slowly working on making it my own. Peanut has continued to grow, as those damn kids do, and she will be starting Kindergarten this fall. She was also in a dance recital a few weeks ago and before you even ask, yes. She did fucking awesomely. (Awesomely is totally a word, too. Google it.) And of course she was the cutest kid on the stage, but that goes without saying. Any crotch-fruit of mine is going to be the most adorable fucking child ever because my genes are that of the gods.

Speaking of crotch-fruit…guess what, buttholes? I’m freaking knocked up! I’m expecting a new and exciting addition in July. I’m down to the last 6 miserable weeks of pregnancy and I can’t wait to meet the little booger and show her off to the world. That’s right – it’s a SHE! Another pretty little girl to dress up all fancy and put barrettes in her hair and paint tiny fingernails and toenails and OMIGOD THIS SHIT IS GOING TO BE SO FUCKING AWESOME! I’m totally excited…and so is Peanut. She’s looking forward to being a big sister. I just hope it stays that way, because if my kids are anything like my brother and I growing up, I’m in for a long, bumpy ride full of hair-pulling, name-calling and ass-kicking.

*rethinks previous statement regarding baby awesomeness*

Oh shit. What did I get myself into?


They’ll grow up and go off to college someday. Then I can fill my house with pets, and they don’t talk back.

…Note to self: don’t get a parrot.

So…pregnancy, eh? A life is growing inside of me and I’m so happy and glowing and motherhood and circle of life and blessings and whatever.

*throws up breakfast*

It’s not as great as some may think. I can’t reach my toes, which means I can’t clip my toenails or paint them. Peanut has been trying to do that for me but…let’s just say, her pedicure skills leave something to be desired. I can’t shave my legs, so I’m rocking the Sasquatch look. I can’t tie my shoes, so sandals and crocs are my only options. I have wicked gas and I’m constipated like you wouldn’t believe. I can’t stop thinking about chocolate and fried food. (Well that part isn’t too different, now that I think about it.) My back is constantly killing me, walking 20 feet feels like running 20 miles and I cry during every ASPCA commercial. Pregnancy bites the big one, folks. If it weren’t for the adorable outcome, I would have gotten spayed a long time ago.

But it’s worth it…so they say. We’ll see how I feel about that in a few weeks when I’m suffering through sleep exhaustion and elbow deep in runny baby shit. I can hardly wait.

Really. I'm super excited about that part.