Sons of bitches, man!

Since I work from home, I hardly ever get dressed. When you sit in your room taking phone calls all day (not of the dirty variety) (okay sometimes of the dirty variety, but only because the preeverts [I don't know, I say it that way in my head to be funny?] apparently don't know how to go online and get actual porn for free) it seems like a waste of time to get dressed. And I mean both time actually putting on clothes, AND the time it takes to launder said clothes. So today I got off work and decided to leave the house. I was going to go to Target and buy a new coffee grinder and then probably make some impulse purchases. I was maybe going to get some makeup remover, as much as it pains me to say that. I don't wear makeup but I DID finally buy a thingie of mascara and I accidentally got the waterproof kind and it's nigh-on impossible to remove even with two different kinds of soap and 5 gallons of water. They aren't joking, I guess.

So I got dressed, but then I decided I should take a picture. I like when bloggy people take pictures of their outfits every day, and being a woman of the large persuasion I figured I might add a little fatshion to the internet. But then I took like 9 gazillion photos with the self-timer and EVERY SINGLE ONE came out blurry. And my gay-ass camera doesn't just keep taking them, you have to grab the camera and reset the timer every time. Which was dumb of me, because all I did was make myself madder and madder. And then it started to rain, so I decided to skip Target, took my clothes off, and hung them all back up and sat down. And now that I look out the window, it isn't raining anymore. But do I really feel like getting dressed again?

Wow, BIG DAY here in the Alison household. Jesus.

So I have this problem, see...

My mom is a pot-head. Like, big time. Not content to smoke weed on weekends, or even evenings, she is an all-day every day toker. She works at home, so her job is not a hindrance to her habit. She smokes while she works, she smokes as her reward for working, and then she smokes while she rides her exercise bike. Often you will find her in the parking lot of her nearest Starbucks, doing the crossword, and getting high. It has been this way my entire life, and definitely even before that. She actually smoked pot while she was pregnant, both times. Rather than regret her youthful mistakes, she considers my sister and I to be supporting evidence that marijuana isn't bad for you. We are pretty awesome so I guess she has a point, but...

I never really minded this habit of hers. It was a funny thing, a quirky trait in my family. As I got older it was even kind of cool. One time I went to school wearing a jacket I had let her borrow, and found a dimebag-worth of green in the pocket. I was a well-behaved teen, so I ended up giving it to a classmate who would make better use of it. Somewhere along the lines, post-high school, my parents and I began smoking together.

Usually, it's fun. We get high, we cook, we reminisce about old times. We'll get laid back and watch a movie or play the Wii and I think, "Damn, my parents are awesome." But then there are the Other Times. The times when my mom's stash runs out and I become her source. One such time is now, and it's making me fucking crazy, man.

3 times in the past week, my mom has stopped by under the guise of some other errand. "Oh hey Al! I brought you and Zach some filet mignons! We love you! [pause] Got any smoke?" "I saw that email about the bra you wanted and I brought my credit card! Go ahead and get it! Wanna smoke? Can you spare it? I'm out!" Once it was annoying but understandable. But when my dad called me today to ask 1) for my Guy's number, and 2) if he could borrow some of my stash, I got pissed. I don't want to do this shit for them any more! But how the hell do you say, "Mom and Dad? I don't want to be involved in your drug purchases anymore. It's awkward."?

I know my mom is going to be pissed. She's going to say, "But I bring you coffee! I buy you presents!" She's going to be hurt. And she's going to be annoyed that I am making her problem HERS. It makes my confident 27 feel like a downtrodden 14 again. If I mention to my dad how annoying this is, he's going to be floored that she has done this already this week, and more than once. Oh, did I forget to mention? There is another layer of drama here.

My mom likes to get a bag, right? Then she likes to tell my dad, "Oh I can't be trusted, dear, you be in charge of the bag. I'll let you know when I want to smoke." Only, she doesn't actually give it all to him. She keeps some for herself and then gives the rest to him, while he THINKS he has it all. Then she can ask him for some, but she can also do whatever she damn well pleases and my dad thinks he's actually in control. It's some high-grade manipulation.

So tomorrow I'm supposed to let them know if my Guy wants to take them on as customers. But that guy is actually a friend of mine, and not really a drug dealer. He's a dude who can help out his friends. And it gets old introducing everyone to my fucking parents. Yeah, they're nice people, but damn, y'all. When do I get to be a grown up? Also, I want to be completely removed from my parents' purchasing habits. Even when they had the contact number of my former Guy, they would bother me constantly. "Have you talked to him? Was he at work today? When are YOU supposed to see him? Should we just ride together?"

I want to nip this shit in the bud, but I also don't want to piss off Mommy and Daddy. I feel mad that they're even putting me in this position in the first place. It's been going on for so long I don't even know if I can extricate myself at this point. Of all the fucking problems to have!

Hey hey hey!

I'm not even hating anything right now. It's a miracle! (Every time I say that, I get the Culture Club song stuck in my head.)

My friend who I bitched about constantly? I feel bad for her, man. Her husband has a pornography addiction (who doesn't?!) and they're going through some shit. If I were the husband I'd be like, "Hey! Get a job! Then you can tell me what to do!", but...I'm not, so I guess they'll work it out. I admit, it sounds pretty fun to get to stay home all day nursing your babe on your teat and watching soaps, but it would make me feel like an absentee member of the team, I think. Or like some kind of leech. Perhaps it would make me feel much like the members of our society who rely on others to pay for their healthcare, even! ZING!

Zach and I rented that movie UP on Netflix and I think I made it 20 minutes before I was bawling my eye-bawls (durr) out. The disc is still in the dvd-player, paused indefinitely. I'm a shitty movie-watcher.

Okay looks like I ran out of steam already. I'm way better when I'm mad, I guess. Also I'm always terrified the things I say will leak out into my real life and then I'll be done for. I got myself into big trouble that way in former blogs and my Twitter account, hence that bitch being privatized now. Turns out Zach's sister doesn't think it's funny that I find her child to be quality birth control. Whoops!

Later, skaters.

Quickie

Hey people! How the hell are ya?

I'm preeeetty good. Just got done jumping on the ol' trampoline and about to go take a shower. My sister is in town for a few more hours and we're going to grab some lunch somewhere delicious. I went out with Ashley and Craig last night to a fancy burger place in Decatur--Farm Burger. DUDE. I know some people are over the whole burger thing and it has gotten a little out of hand here in the A (and probably other places too, but...I live just in the one place, so I don't know for sure), but I am truly a burger connoisseur. Same thing with bacon, man. Bacon's this big internet thing and now it's coming to an end, but...I always loved bacon. I didn't just love it because it was all over the internet. But shit, who doesn't love bacon!? Which brings me back to Farm Burger. Their beef is grass-fed and they have insane toppings. I got mine with home-made pimento cheese and house-cured bacon, and well, I am now dead. I died of deliciousity overdose, and it was good. So good in fact, that I am thinking Georgia and I need to get back over there today. Ahhh look at me, reinforcing the stereotype that all fatties do is eat burgers all day. I should wear a button that says, "I already did my exercise today. Don't judge." Or if anyone asks, I have a twin, and SHE ate there last night.

I am off work today which on the one hand is nice, but on the other it is not-so-nice since Zach is out of town. I prefer my days off to coincide with his, but there is something to be said for a lazy solo Saturday too. Especially since my sister's here! She and Zach love each other too, but there's no substitute for one-on-one sister time.

I am getting suuuuper excited about my upcoming trip to Portland. I haven't been in about a decade. I am excited to go as a real live grown-up, though last time I went I thought I was grown up too. Back then I lived with Evan in our teeny-tiny attic apartment. I did have a job and possibly even a dog, but...man! I can't imagine 19-year-old Alison knew shit about anything. I cringe just thinking about the things I must have said or done last time I was there. Then again, some of you guys knew me back then and tolerated me too, so I guess I'm being hard on myself. I just really regret wasting so much time with Evan and it makes me embarrassed to think how much shit I put up with because I wanted to have a relationship. I mean, I did love him don't get me wrong, but I could have been way fucking smarter if I was thinking with my logical brain instead of my emotional one. And shit, even at nearly-30 I still don't know how to do that. I just hope my aunts and uncles and cousins like me and are proud of who I am now. We didn't really keep in touch while I was growing up, except when I came out there in the summers. I feel a bit resentful--why didn't they want to know what I was up to all year? If Georgia died, and left behind a child, you bet your ass I would be in touch with that child. But I guess everyone has their own drama and worrying about someone else's kid 3,000 miles away is just one more thing at the bottom of the To-Do list. Anyway, I'm nervous about seeing everyone. I hope they won't just think "Man, she's fat" and that they will add, "..but super funny!" on the end. That would be nice.

Alright snitches, I've gotta get in the shower. (I miss working at the Roadwhore sometimes--one of our cooks, Deon, would always say "Snitches get stitches" which I can only assume is some sort of jail-based saying and I love it to death)

And now for something completely different

I'm pretty glad politics have taken a backseat on Facebook lately. It was getting old hating my friends. I have a couple other conservative friends who manage to be much less vocal about things. Not that you shouldn't speak your mind, but when it devolves into, "You're wrong!" and "No, YOU are so the wrong one", nothing is really getting solved.

The weather here is insanely gorgeous. Even when I'm already outside, I'm like, "Damn, I should get outside!" In general I enjoy the outdoors, but from my cozy house, looking out the window. Weather like this makes me think I should actually go...like DO something. The downside is all the MFing pollen. I really never had allergies before but for the past 3 days I can't talk. I feel mostly fine, but I have no voice. It's so disconcerting not being able to talk--I don't even feel like myself. I got to meet beloved blogger Bossy and I was really hoping she'd love me and tell her audience how I'm the coolest blog-reader in the metro-Atlanta area, but no such luck. I was barely audible, and what I did say was mostly Monster/vodka-induced dumbassery. Manuel's doesn't have Red Bull, but they do have Monster, but there's really no good way to order that. I seriously said to the waitress, "Yeah I need another Vodka Monster....raaawwwr". And then I died, because that's retarded and I should not be allowed in public.

I had to call in to work my past 3 shifts, so now my stats will be in the toilet. I always thought being an independent contractor sounded so glamorous and flexible, but...no. At least not in my line of work. I have been applying to real jobs lately, but I don't know how I really feel about that. I only own jeans anymore, I have a visible tattoo, and I am definitely not removing my nose ring. I also don't particularly feel like driving somewhere every day, or working M-F, 8-5. I know, I know, those are all things that most people have to do. But I also know that the people who do those things bitch about it constantly. Then again, I bitch constantly anyway soooo...6 of one, right?

I'm pretty sure I told Zach to make a pot of coffee (who's Bossy now, am i right?) and it should be ready, so I'm gonna go and drink it up and hope it cures my throat malady. Have a super day, kids.

Politics are the devil

Today has been particularly rough on the internet, for pretty much everyone. We all feel like we're getting stomped on. I hate to think that some of my friends really see me as a leech on society, all because I want to be able to go to the doctor when I need to. It blows my fucking mind that healthcare is a privilege and not a right. Did any of us ask to be born? Do any of us ask to get sick? It's not like, "Can't afford car insurance? Don't drive." Can't afford health insurance? Don't get sick. Seriously?

I'm sad. Really really sad.

OMFG I can't take it anymore

I really didn't mean for this to become a blog mostly about how I secretly hate one of my friends. I hate LOTS of things and would like to focus on some of those sometimes. But this is fucking killing me.

P Here's one way the Democrats want to pay for health care. You tell me if this seems right. Hint: if you think this is right, you're wrong.

about an hour ago · Comment ·

P

Currently, the Medicare payroll tax is 2.9% on all wages -- with the worker and his employer each paying 1.45%.

The reconciliation bill, like the Senate bill, would raise the percentage paid by high-income individuals by 0.9 percentage points, so an individual would pay 2.35% on his wages.

The reconciliation bill, however, also would subject the investment income of high-income households, such as dividends, interest and rent, to a 3.8% Medicare tax.

about an hour ago

P

In other words, for those of you in la-la land; those who don't need Medicare will pay for those who do. There's you some incentive to be successful and become wealthy. That's right! Work hard, provide for your family a good life and get robbed by the federal government to pay for someone else what they should pay themself.

59 minutes ago

A

Fabulous! I already love it that you pay that much for Medicare, which neither you nor your dependents use. I will love it even more when your more of your hard earned money is taken away from you and your dependents. Success will only be punished in the US of A.

Guess what, fuckfaces! The people who need Medicare CANNOT pay for it! That's kind of the whole point! In this country, like it or not (if you don't like it you can get out! Isn't that what the Bush-lovers [hee!] used to say to us when we complained?), there are services you may not use that you have to help pay for. It's called living in a fucking civilized society. I've never ever had to call a firetruck. Maybe only people who have fires should pay for a fire station! I've never called the cops either, so all you police-needing people can pay for that! What is so bad about helping someone who is less fortunate? Seriously, what? Does that not-even-1% really make a huge dent in your income? Are you REALLY that much of a selfish prick that the thought of helping someone who can't help themselves pisses you off?

I just don't get it. I really don't.

Dumb

One of my friends is so getting dumped. Coincidentally, it's the same friend who said that daylight savings is MUCH WORSE for parents. We've been friends for years but when we met, she was a lesbian. She is now a conservative, heterosexually-married parent. When we're together we have a fine enough time, but our politics are SO different. Different to the point that just reading anything she says on Facebook gets me worked up for the rest of the day.

Last week, she posted a link to an article on the ACLU website about sheriff Joe Arpaio denying inmates the right to have an abortion. She said she doesn't remember anywhere in the constitution where it says you have a right to an abortion. The comments section devolved into name-calling and insults between the pro-lifers and the pro-choicers. I am sad to say I was compelled to contribute and things got pretty heated. I get that nowhere in the Constitution does it grant abortion rights. But I also understand that due to Roe v. Wade we now are legally allowed to have an abortion if we want/need to. I also think that being pregnant and in prison is not a good way to live, nor is it good for a baby to be born to an imprisoned mother.

Today she posted an article about a woman who is currently in the 600-lb range and would like to get up to 1000. My friend's comment was, "If the healthcare bill passes, we will all be paying for this woman's medical treatment." Yes, and if it passes, SHE will also be paying for YOUR healthcare. Not to mention she could already be on Medicare, so we're already paying for it. Why should I pay for other people's healthcare and get nothing out of it? I'd like some too, please. The weirdest part is, my friend has NEVER taken her baby to a doctor. She had the kid at home in her living room, overseen by a midwife. For the first three months of the child's life, the midwife checked up on the baby. But now that he's the better part of a year old, the midwife is no longer coming to visit since you know, the baby is already born. I don't know for sure if she is avoiding the doctor for insurance purposes or just on the principle (what principle that would be, I don't know), but...isn't that a form of child neglect? I mean, the baby is alive and appears to be healthy and normal, but I think it'd be great if say, a LICENSED PROFESSIONAL made that diagnosis. Call me crazy!

She has also posted another article about how universal healthcare goes against the Constitution. I did read the article but it doesn't appear to contain any supportive evidence for its opinion. Granted, I am not the most politically savvy person. This is probably a dumb question, and if I thought I could get it answered without getting into an argument I would probably ask her. But WHAT IS SO BAD ABOUT EVERYONE BEING ABLE TO GO TO THE DOCTOR?

I broke my ankle a few years ago, and I was (and continue to be) uninsured. The ambulance ride was $700. Yep, just for a ride to the hospital! I couldn't drive myself since I drive a manual transmission and you need both feet for that. The emergency room visit was another $800, for them to do an X-ray and confirm what I already knew (yes, you can hear it when a bone breaks, not to mention FEEL it). I cried the whole time, not just from the pain, but from thinking, "I can't afford this!" On my way out, in a wheelchair, I was asked for money. While I was still crying. The surgery to repair my bone and ligaments was almost $4,000. I didn't have that kind of money, and had my parents not been able to spot me I would still have a jacked-up ankle to this day. Even though you need treatment for a break (in my case a 6-inch steel plate and 8 screws), it is still considered an elective surgery. I guess because theoretically your bone would heal with no intervention? Again, I am LUCKY because my parents had the money. Had I not had them, I would have been refused treatment and be on crutches or worse to this day.

How can anyone think that's a good way to do things? How can you say we're one of the greatest countries in the world, while this is the way our healthcare is being run? I guess I can understand that some people do not want to pay for other people's mistakes. But being born and then subsequently injuring yourself or falling ill isn't a mistake. It's life. If we had healthcare for everyone, part of my income could help pay for this friend's baby to see an actual doctor. It could have saved my parents thousands of dollars out-of-pocket. From my understanding, the Libertarian way of thinking is, basically, "It's my money, I'll spend it how I want." And while at first glance that seems acceptable, it becomes incredibly short-sighted and selfish the more you think about it. Do you use roads? Did you ever attend a public school? Stop at a traffic light? Call the cops for help? THAT IS YOUR MONEY BEING WASTED! OH NO!

Living in a civilized society means the government gets some of your money. They need it to do those things I listed and MANY MANY more. Believe me, I'd love a little less government intervention in my life. I'd love to be able to smoke pot without worrying about getting arrested. I'd like to drive faster than 55 on the highway. I'd like to keep my entire paycheck that I earned. But, I also want to live in America. Where we have clean water and somewhat clean air and plenty of food to eat. Part of being privileged enough to live here is helping to pay for it. Part of being a good citizen is being kind to other people. I personally think being a good American means making sure that not only do we have that clean water to drink, but also making sure we are doing all we can to have a healthy nation. Why should going to the doctor be a privilege and not a right? Why should people have to worry when they get sick, about anything more than their health? Do you really want people to be terrified to go to the doctor because they can't pay for it, so they avoid going, so they get worse, and possibly spread it to you? Is it really so angering that a poor person or a Mexican or even a double-whammy poor Mexican be able to go to the doctor and not pay money? Let's be honest, we already pay for other people's healthcare and well-being. Have you heard of Social Security? Welfare? Medicare/Medicaid? Guess what! You're helping other people already. Why not keep up with your selfish beliefs and get a little something for yourself too?

I really don't get it. I wish I did, so I could stop being pissed off at a formerly-good friend.

Memories...

My high school boyfriend was a sweet boy. I met him when I was on the staff for the literary magazine and he seemed to like me. He wasn't really my type, though I guess in retrospect he kind of was since all of my boyfriends, at first glance, seem gay. He was a very large half-Arab and I didn't think he was particularly cute, but I figured when you're 15 you need a boyfriend, so why the hell not. He would pick me up in his mom's Toyota and we'd go out for ice cream or dinner, or to a movie because I worked at the movie theater and we could get in for free. A year or so into the relationship, the dates were mostly driving around until we found somewhere to park and then boning in the car, but I digress.

J was quite into movies, and had maybe seen too many of them. Or maybe read his sister's Cosmo or something. But he was really into being a Good Boyfriend. He always had flowers for me, or teddy bears, or love letters. He would write me poems, draw pictures of me, and was unfailingly kind and devoted. And I hated it. It embarrassed me, probably in part because I thought of him as my practice boyfriend. I wasn't popular in school or anything, but J was definitely not one of the 57 boys I had a crush on, and I had never even seen him around until we had those meetings together. I was happy to have a boyfriend, I just...wasn't that into him, I guess.

J had a friend Paul, whose father had died and left Paul a bunch of money. I think his dad probably wanted the money to go towards school, but instead Paul spent it on a bunch of shit for his computer and continued to live at home well into his 20s, and possibly even does to this day. For Valentine's Day, J wrote me a song and then he and Paul recorded it with the fancy computer shit and made me a cd. It had backing vocals and samples and all sorts of ridiculous keyboarding and effects. J was so proud of it and when he presented it to me I think he was expecting me to sob with gratitude. Or maybe just beej him with gratitude. When you're 18, either is okay. I think I looked at it with a smirk on my face and said something like, "Oh cool. I'll um, listen to this later. When I'm alone." I did listen to it later, once. Ever. Even though I was alone in my room, I blushed and fidgeted. He was soulfully singing to me, his "precious pearl." I remember one of the lines was, "...and you look real hot."

I know it was supposed to be sweet. Most girls were jealous; not so much of J himself, but that he was soooo into me. I know I should have been swooning and grateful, but instead it just embarrassed the piss out of me. I guess I didn't feel worthy of such affection given how I mainly just wanted him to remove that pesky virginity before I hit college. Or maybe things that seem sweet in movies are actually kind of creepy in real life? I don't know.

None of my other boyfriends have been quite so demonstrative with their love. E told me he loved me on our first date, which I think was actually his First Date. I guess that should have been a gigantic red, flashing flag but nope! After J I assumed every relationship was intense. Whoops. Now 3 years in with Zach, I couldn't tell you the last time he bought me flowers, and he definitely never wrote me a song. But sometimes when he goes to the Market he brings me back cookies, and whenever he goes to Canada he brings me some Kinder Eggs. I much prefer romantic gestures that are edible, I think is the lesson here.

Drinking on the job

Yeah, I couldn't take it anymore. There was some Ketel One burning a hole in the fridge so I'm drankin' it and dealing with my customers. I keep waiting for scheduling to IM me and say, "Hey kid, hit the road! We don't needja today!" but so far, so bad. I haven't upsold a single thing nor have I been particularly nice to people. I'll save the long explanation of Why My Company Sucks and sum it up thusly: My company likes to make the customer the enemy, I don't know why, and it works! The end.

Tell me this, though. Why do people call me and say, "I'm on your website and I'd like to place an order"? If you are on the website, go ahead and place the order! I know I'm awesome to talk to, but you can seriously do it yourself. Why are you on the website if not to place an order? I guess it's a foreign concept to me because while I do answer the phone for a living, I actually hate talking on the damn thing. The internet was the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't even call Pizza Hut; I order that shit online. It's just...if you call me and say you found a thing on the internet that you like, I'm obligated to offer you more things. Chances are, you only want the one thing you're calling about. You'll keep saying no to the things I'm offering, and then I'll have an order that I didn't sell anything on, bringing my stats down. So if you ever call a place to order something and wonder why the rep starts out nice and then hates you? Thank the company!

Well that Ketel One is talking to a nigga. I gots to piss. Yes, again. Shut it.

Workin' it or jerkin' it?

So, I hate my job. That should come as no surprise. How many people can you name that are all, "Oh man! I love my job!"? I only ever love my LAST job. You know, the one that I left because it sucked so bad, but then the current job sucks MORE so the last one seems awesome by comparison. Currently I do customer service for a big company, but I work from my house. The working from my house part is pretty cool, don't get me wrong. I like being able to smoke while I work, and poop in my own bathroom. I don't have to put on clothes or cover up tattoos/piercings (I am not a very tattooed or pierced person but even what little I have comes under scrutiny in most offices), and I can visit whatever websites I want without worrying about getting in trouble.

The work itself is no bueno, though. I actually enjoy the serving customers part of Customer Service. The problem is that a lot of the job involves selling and doing shady things, and I'm not really fond of that stuff. It feels awkward when someone calls me and says that we messed up their order and I'm supposed to go, "That's too bad, but we have a special on jeans today!" We don't get many breaks, and last week I got in trouble for using the bathroom during my shift. I have to pee RIGHT NOW and I can't go unless I'm willing to take a hit on my stats. And the stats, they are many. We are graded on how long the call takes, how many things we sell, how many things they buy without us selling them, and the quality of the call (and quality doesn't mean how well we helped the customer, it means if we remembered to say "Thank you Mrs. Smith for calling Big Company, have a nice day!", which I usually forget, so have gotten bad quality scores.). For every one thing a customer wants to buy, I have to offer two other things. If I don't offer them, I get in trouble. If I offer them but forget the 5 elements of a sale, I get in trouble. If I offer them, the customer says no, and I don't make a rebuttal, I get in trouble.

So sometimes, like today, when I'm working and it's Sunday and my boyfriend is home and I am home but I can't actually be around him, my job suuuuucccckkkssss. It makes me long for the days of waiting tables and making cash money. I make way, way less money doing this and I get treated about as badly. But I don't smell like Fryolator and syrup, and I am not resentful of black people and old people anymore, since I don't rely on their tips (non-existant). So I guess it's a wash?

I need to get a shenis or a bucket or something, I seriously have to pee.

Check

Pubes gone, head hair red, pits deodorized, thong giving me a wedgie. Sounds like it's about time for the Boy to get here!

Except, of course, I have to work from 2-5. I think I spend more time dreading going to work than I spend time actually working. I wonder if that counts as overtime?

Let me just get this off my chest: I think I hate children. I didn't used to. I used to be like, "Maybe someday I'll have some kids!" Then it was like, "Eh, I don't really want to make my body any worse than it is or spend money on other people so probably no kids for me, but hey! Yours are cute and awesome!" And now it's like, "Could you please remove that...thing from my vicinity? Mucho appreciato." Believe me, I'm just as disgusted with myself as you are. I mean, I was a child myself! My parents had children and I don't look down on them! If not for children the whole human race would crumble! Er, I don't know if I would even care about that really, since I wouldn't be here anyway. I don't MEAN to get all judgey about children. I swear. It's just, every time my common-law nephew comes over I start heading for the butcher knife and thinking of ways to mess up my anatomy and render it useless. The child-havers among you will probably say, "Oh when it's your kid it's different!" And that's what scares me the most, man. If I ever turn into one of those people who doesn't even notice their kid has ruined the entire restaurant's evening KILL ME. Seriously.

And I know this is not a new thing, but for me it is, and I want to just get it said and be done with it. I know YOU think your 7-month old is cool as shit and he totally changed your life. But I don't care about him that much. I care about YOU. When I say daylight savings time blows because we lose an hour, I don't give a shit that it's soooo muuuuch harder for parents. I get it! When you have a baby you have to get up early! They change your life! OMGGGG. I get it! That's why I DO NOT HAVE ONE OF THOSE. Also you had him on purpose, so I'm pretty sure you saw this one coming. It's like hearing those people who climb Mt Everest bitching about how hard it is. Um yeah, it probably is. Why the fuck did you sign up to do it if not to experience how hard it is? Believe me, I'd be the complainingest motherfucker on that mountain if I were climbing it. But that's exactly why I'm not signing up for that shit. God.

Oh and neat! It's raining again! I was hoping I would get to mop the dirt and leaf particles off the floor five more times this weekend, so...WISH GRANTED. Thanks nature!

No, I know. It's time to smoke a bowl. I'm going now.

No, really, EVERYTHING

I'm dying (dye-ing? I still don't know) my hair and my head's all itchy and bright red. The timer just went off so I guess I should go rinse this shit and give the ol' cooter a run-through with a razor since the Boy comes home today. BBL, y'all.