I’m all for them – within reason!

At least once a day, I find things in my spam comments section that makes me SMH. Every single one of them tells me what y’all’ve (Y’ALL’VE???) searched for – which leads me to wonder if I need to go back through all of my entries, to make sure I didn’t accidentally write about mommy or daddy kinks.

Like, WHAT THE HELL, people?

I’m not kink shaming, but please don’t leave those kinds of comments – unless I ask for them.

Time to clear my cache…

Tiny Leaps And Bounds

Have you ever been so confused that you need to start over?

I don’t know how people juggle multiple platform accounts. I guess that’s what managers and teams are for.

But I’m just a nobody. I’m a stay at home mom, just trying to organize and consolidate my social media. It is not easy. But, I’m getting there. All I need is content, which I’m working on. I have a mile-long list of ideas. I need to get my sh*t together and write the bloody material.

My blog is just part of the picture – the beginning stages. Honestly, I really don’t know how people like Jenny Lawson manage things. What’s the secret? Should I just stick with a few platforms, and leave it at that?

I see creators across many more platforms than I’m willing to attempt. I guess I’ll just take it a few tiny steps at a time, and see where it goes.

It’s not really my intention to get anywhere. It’s really just an outlet, to be quite honest. An outlet to keep me busy, until I go back to school.

Do I DARE create a Tumblr? Is that platform even the place for the content I want to create? I’m slightly afraid.

I’m open to suggestions.

PS: It’s Friday the 13th, and I’ve created brand new Twitter and YouTube accounts. Yesterday it was Facebook. God help me.

This Isn’t Easy

Some folks may not know, but October 10th was world mental health day.

I didn’t really think much about it, until one of my favorite YouTube personalities uploaded a video.

Now first of all, let me just say, I’m usually prepared for a laugh and a bunch of “AAAWWW”s when I sit to watch this young man.  He and his flatmate are my literal sunshine for the past year or so.

But nothing prepared me for the deep seated, repressed emotions (and an ocean of tears) that came rushing to my surface as I sat here listening to his story about depression.

He absolutely nailed it.

It’s difficult to describe to a person who isn’t depressed what it feels like.

To put it into perspective, it feels like being trapped within your own dark, empty head.  You don’t feel like doing anything, even though there are things you want to do.  So, you sit in a chair, arguing with yourself about whether or not it’s worth getting dressed to go out for that coffee you so desperately need to even be functional.  And then when you finally decide screw it, I’m staying home, then you feel worse.  The day is over – at 11 a.m. – because that’s when you finally dragged yourself out of bed.

There’s a mask that depressed people often wear.  When they finally decide to leave the comfort of their homes for whatever reason (usually because they have no choice), they do it with a forced smile and bubbly voice.  But sometimes that mask isn’t enough.  To be quite honest, they’d rather be cloaked, hidden from judgemental eyes and minds.

And finally, when anxiety accompanies depression, life is absolutely torturous.

Not only do you sit and stare at four walls, wondering why you’re like this, but the what-if’s begin to stab at your brain, agitating your last nerve with a glowing red pitchfork.

It’s exhausting.

So, please.  Keep these things in mind when approaching anyone on any given day.  Think of them, and ask yourself if they’re okay.  Then ask them how they are.  Offer to just sit and chat with them.  Even though they’ll most likely say “I’m fine”, and politely decline your offer, the gesture alone will mean the world to them, and it will lift them up a LOT.




Open Your Eyes

I do my best to not leave many political responses on the interwebs, but it has become increasingly disturbing how so many people [worldwide] have lost sight of the basics.  I feel compelled to say something.  So, why not here, where there is a little less ‘traffic’?

Without going into too many specifics, I’d just like to say a few things.

In lieu of 9/11, and countless horrific events that have followed since then, I often wonder something.  Call me a conspiracy theorist if you must, but isn’t it obvious how these things are precursory distractions for something far more horrific already in the works – and most likely SOON to happen, especially since Trump is in office?

People are so hellbent on resisting, creating more anger and hatred, I fear for the future of the human race.

We are literally in the middle of self destruction.

PLEASE, open your eyes, and realize what is happening.  We are on the verge of civil war.

We all need to stop, look, and listen.  Be mindful and very aware.  Concentrate on improving yourself and living your own life, rather than trying to control how others think and live.

Come Again?

I just had to go and ask a dumb question.  What’s wrong with me?  I need to think things through, and use Google more often, apparently – before asking my husband weird questions.

The other day, my daughter was talking about how her 6 foot 3 inch boyfriend throws her over his shoulder.  This reminded me of when my husband did that to me, back in our college days, and when my ex-boyfriend (rest in peace) did the same thing.  He also was over 6 feet tall.

On his way home from work earlier (YAY for early days!), I decided to ask my husband why men throw their women over their shoulders.  After a few moments of silence, I hear a snicker, followed by “It’s a caveman thing”. ………………………………………. and more laughter after he heard my response.  I’m certain he imagined my matching facial expression.

So, I proceeded to Google anyways, and found out that it’s probably because they like to ‘sweep their women off their feet’.  RIGHT.

I don’t know the real answer, but I’m going to assume it’s to demonstrate strength and dominance – because what women doesn’t want a strong, dominant man?

Wait … what did I just admit to?



Good News For Bigfoot!

Just a bit ago, when my husband called me during his lunch hour, he sat in his office reading me some pretty interesting laws.

I’d just like to know one thing:

When did sasquatch poaching become an issue? I mean, did some guy have a basement full of bigfoot fur, and one of his jealous hunting buddies decided to blow him in to the authorities at fish and wildlife?

And just how many sasquatch are out there if it is an issue? Do I even want to know? I’ll stay right were I’m at, thank you very much. No wooded mountains for me!

I’m usually up to snuff on some of the more common myths. Hence when hubby read me these laws, I choked on my coffee when he said it’s illegal to kill sasquatch in Washington state.

Even more bizarre is when the police have to take a cat away for chasing a dog up a telephone pole. “Sorry, Fluffy. I don’t care who started it. You’re coming with me.”

And finally, you know the current situation in America is bad when dogs start getting offended because their owner made a face at it – which is illegal in Oklahoma, in case you didn’t know.

Ad Senseless

What is happening with YouTube?  And the internet for that matter…

Well, YouTube really isn’t the root of the problem. It’s the human race in general.

But why?

What a shame if the concern about hate speech is preventing many aspiring hopefuls from earning money.

I understand the need to reduce as much hate speech as possible, but come on.  Whether or not it is eradicated from [social] media, hate will always exist. As will many other less than positive behaviors and thought processes.  There are no two ways about it.  Suppression does not equal elimination.

I’d say these restrictions target at least 75% of the content on YouTube.

I hate to break it to everyone, but life will never be strictly rainbows and unicorns. Good cannot exist without evil, and vice versa.

Limiting free speech only strengthens anger and hate.

Sooner or later, creators will become fed up, and resort to alternative moneymaking options. Many are already switching to Patreon. Where will that leave sites like YouTube?

Sorry, but there is no true ‘safe place’ in the world.

And finally, S M H.



Should I even go there?  Do I want to relive trauma?

Since the anniversary of Stephen King’s IT, I’ve been experiencing a string of nightly terrors.  I don’t mean just bad dreams.  I’m talking horrifying terrors – of a clown that terrorized me on my 8th birthday.  I haven’t slept in over a week, give or take an hour here and there.

All those who remember The Ground Round restaurant, raise your hand.  Yeah.  Great place – except for Bingo the f*cking creep clownWHOSE idea was it to have a clown terrorize children?!  There’s a special place in hell for them.

Rewind back to 1978 – my 8th birthday.  My parents decided to spoil me, and had a huge party at the Ground Round restaurant.  Let me set the scene for you.  Imagine a place that resembles today’s Texas Roadhouse.  At every table – covered with red and white checkered table cloths – there were buckets of peanuts.  The floors were hard wood, and there was country music playing on the jukebox.

Back in the day when jukeboxes were a thing, my birthday party should’ve been fanfreakingtastic!  I’d bug my parents for quarters, and play music to my heart’s content, whilst playing the pinball machine against my brother.  But since my closest friends were also there, my musical fun was limited.  As my best friend used to say (and still probably does) “You and your stupid music”.  Leave my music alone.

Imagine, if you will, the largest room in the place, cleared for my birthday.  There were about a dozen family members, and ten or so of my best friends.  All having a grand old time.  Until …….

Sorry, but I refuse to put an actual picture. I might punch my screen.  Or spit at it.

Bingo the birthday clown has decided to pop up from nowhere, scaring the living shit out of me.

Why am I scared of clowns?  Shall I rewind a little further back?  Okay.  When I was four years old, my parents decided to take me to our local theme park, where there was of course a f*cking clown.  Needless to say, creepy creeperton decided to single me out in a crowd of a few hundred, and got two inches from my face.  He proceeded to stroke my face, calling me darling, and pinned a star on my chest for being such a good sport.  Excuse me.  I don’t think being terrified of your painted molesting mug equates being a good sport.

Fast forward back to my eighth birthday.  After a few rounds of Bingo popping up from the depths of Ground Round HELL, I decided to fix his little red-wigged wagon.  On my way to the little girl’s room with my friends, he decided to jump out at me from behind a door right next to the bathroom.

His day ended with a mouthful of spit, and my day ended at a table with my parents, since my friends were so embarrassed, they didn’t want to sit with me anymore.

Until a year or so before my mom passed, she never knew what had happened.  She just figured my friends were being mean.  Until my brother came forward with his story.  Come to find out, the clown was being SO creepy, he and my Uncle Frank took to throwing peanuts at him – earning them an escort out of the restaurant.

Happy freaking birthday!  Bingo, I hope you’re rotting in hell for what you did to me.


Tell me again why I decided to recreate this???

Oh yeah. Writing ideas.

Beyond The Anger and Grief

Consider this a friendly word of advice. Take it for what it’s worth.

As a person who comes from a strong family background, I fear the ‘family’ unit has fallen apart over the years. There are too many dysfunctional ones, for many reasons which would take far too many words to list here. Infidelity, greed, and addiction are among some of the most common. And those can lead to a host of other unhealthy things.

Given how short life is, it shocks me when those with only a handful of family members left, make the decision to abandon their own blood. Have they been pushed to their limits? I often fear they will deeply regret their decision some day. But, it stands to reason that when that blood is poisonous, causing great pain day in and day out, it seems like the only option.

How is a person expected to react when they are forbidden to contact other family members, demanding exclusivity – in the name of anger and jealousy? I guess they can’t be blamed for their decision, when all they’ve done is bend over backwards, only to be met with more unreasonable demands and accusations – from multiple directions. It’s quite exhausting.

The worst part of such a situation is when the innocent are left to suffer, wondering what they’ve done wrong. And, as the years pass, the more bitter they become, not knowing who to trust, or who to point their broken fingers at.

It is my hope that any remaining decent adult family members point them in the right direction, placing proper blame where it is due. Then, maybe the poison can be flushed away for good, and relationships can be reformed and renewed, with a little effort and a pinch of trust.

Some folks just choose to completely start over. Perhaps they feel it’s best to completely detox, leaving all sources of poison behind. I just pray there are no regrets, as I’ve stated before.

Please, take care in any such decisions, even though it may seem like the only choice.

Practical Joker

A day late and a dollar short (what exactly does that even mean?), I’m writing this.

It’s funny I ran across this prompt, because just this morning, as I was still peeling my eyelids open (my typo originally said PEEING! Imagine peeing your eyelids open…..), a memory of me torturing my family made me laugh.

You see, I’m a sadistic little shit. I take delight in freaking people out, and/or screwing with them.

A few years ago, before my father passed away, I was sitting at his kitchen table, along with my two brothers, my father, and my daughter. My husband was in the other room watching Star Trek or something.

Everyone was so consumed in conversation, an evil little gremlin snuck into my ear and whispered “Do it“. My face morphed into a smiling Grinch, and I whipped out my cell phone, stealthily hiding it under the table as I continued pretending to listen what everyone was talking about.

My brother had his laptop on the table, and we were listening to funny YouTube videos. But naughty me, I turned on my YouTube app, and pulled up this.

DO NOT LISTEN WITH EARPHONES!!! You’ll lose your mind.

Keep in mind, I have close to 50% hearing loss, and I don’t hear anything until almost the end.  So this doesn’t really bother me.  Especially since I always have ringing and buzzing in my ears (tinnitus, thank you very freaking much!).

But within seconds, my daughter was the first one to literally SPOOK.  Of course she did!  She was sitting directly to my left, completely oblivious as to what I was doing.  Meanwhile, my father, who was on my right, proceeded to jam his little finger in his ear, wiggling it incessantly.

My brothers?  Well, the brother to the left of my daughter cocked his head sideways, looking suspiciously at his laptop, trying desperately to shutdown.  He thought it was about to explode or something.  And my brother across the table from me, killed me with his reaction.  I don’t think there are words to describe it, other than to say his eyeballs bulged, he gasped, and slapped his hands over his ears, saying “WHAT THE F*CK?!?!”  Meanwhile, my husband in the other room shouted “TURN THAT OFF!”.

I still laugh maniacally whenever I think about it.

When we were eating lunch a little bit later, my oldest brother got his revenge while I was drinking coffee, saying “Now that my ears have reset, I can continue normal conversation without having an aneurysm”.

Even though it cost me my phone for the day, everyone’s reactions were absolutely PRICELESS.

I’m so mean.


A/N: I may or may not have written about this a long time ago, on an old blog which does not exist anymore.  I couldn’t resist revisiting this memory.