I stumbled across this in my phone and it reminded me of how blessed I’ve been in my life.
Can you believe I have a post with no cuss words? WTF??? ;) ♡♡♡♡
I stumbled across this in my phone and it reminded me of how blessed I’ve been in my life.
Can you believe I have a post with no cuss words? WTF??? ;) ♡♡♡♡
Seriously, I’ve tried to write this post 50 times and keep deleting it.
I’m trying to be delicate and inoffensive (which, I know, is rare!).
But I’m just going to say it.
People have a right to be who they are. Period.
If you don’t like it, don’t look at it.
If you don’t like it, don’t go to their parties.
If you don’t like it, don’t invite them over for Sunday dinner.
If you don’t like it, tough noogies.
I can GUARANTEE that no matter what kind of clean-living life you think you lead (and by you, I mean everyone on earth), there is someone on this planet who despises your faith, your politics, your sexuality, the color of your skin, etc…
It is sad that people hate so quickly and easily for something as little as where someone else sticks their dick.
Who the hell cares?
All of us have done or do things that others wouldn’t approve of, but we don’t want to be judged.
So, here’s an idea, don’t judge others either.
There will always be people you don’t like. I can name a few off the top of my head that I’d like to see eaten by prairie dogs. But it’s not because of who they sleep with, what church they attend, how much or little melanin they have in their skin.
If I hate a mother fucker it’s because they treat people like shit. It’s a personal kind of dislike that is rooted totally in the fact that that person makes a conscious effort to ruin other people’s lives in a direct, person-to-person way.
A transgender couple in Alabama is not mean to me, therefore I hope they are happy and live wonderful lives.
A biracial couple raising biracial kids in Washington is not mean to me, therefore I hope they are happy and live wonderful lives.
A gay couple getting married because they are in love is not being mean to me, therefore I hope they too are happy and live wonderful lives.
What I can never understand is why people latch onto things that they personally think are unacceptable because they fall outside of their own view of the world, and then choose to rail on about how bad, evil, against God, unnatural, blah blah blah those ways of life are.
Honest to God, one of the best things anyone can do both for society and for themselves is learn that a world full of happy, loving, tolerant, non-judgmental people, who spend their time doing things to BETTER the world rather than spitting venom into it, is a better world in which everyone can find their bit of joy.
I remember once being preached at by someone about how gays are ruining the world. Meanwhile, this person was married and having not one, but two, affairs.
Hmmm…I think that those without sin should chuck that first rock. The hypocrisy about killed me. But then everyone can find ways to defend their own lifestyle choices, while condemning others’ right to make their own.
My mantra is this: Wake up. Hurt no one. Go to sleep. Wake up. Repeat.
To me, and only to me as everyone is allowed their own opinion, that is the way to lead a truly happy life.
I don’t worry about who fucks who.
I don’t worry about who prays to what God.
All I care about is that we are kind to each other and try to create a world where our children will grow into happy, healthy adults where the word “tolerance” isn’t even a part of their vocabulary because allowing someone to live a life different from their own isn’t “tolerating” anything. It’s just how it is and all’s good.
I know there may be people who read this and say that I’m trying to choke my own thoughts down their throat so aren’t I a big ole fucking hypocrite? Well, if me sharing that I want people to live wonderful, judgment-free lives where differences aren’t only tolerated but celebrated, then I’m okay being labeled a hypocrite.
I hear all the time from people defending their right to hate somebody that “MY God doesn’t approve of that,” when it comes to the way some people choose to live their lives.
Well, let me just say this. My God is loving. My God sacrificed his Son for our sins. My God judges lives when you walk though the Pearly Gates–so that means you don’t have to do His job for Him.
When it all comes down in the end…when you look back on your life…do you want it to be full of antagonism, prejudice, hate, intolerance and judgment?
Or do you want to look back and say, “I did my best to create a good life, bring people around me joy, and now I can die knowing I did the best I could.”?
I vote for the second option.
In those last moments will you think about all the people you hated or will you think about the love you’ve been blessed enough to know?
If the answer is “the love” then why wait until your final moments? Why not live that life now?
But better people than me have written about such things, and so here are words from a very wise person about The End.
In my rear view mirror the sun is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the road
And I think of all the good things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Of the holocaust to come.
The rusty wire that holds the cork
That keeps the anger in
And suddenly it’s day again.
The sun is in the East
Even though the day is done.
Two suns in the sunset
Could be the human race is run.
Like the moment when the brakes lock
And you slide towards the big truck
You stretch the frozen moments with your fear.
And you’ll never hear their voices
And you’ll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the law anymore.
And as the windshield melts
My tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally I understand the feelings of the few.
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end.
I know, I’ve been gone forever!!
I did not die, I promise.
I’ve pondered murder once or twice though. ;)
I hope everyone is doing beautifully and gearing up for a fabulous summer. I intend on spending mine in my air conditioned house as it’s too damn hot outside.
Okay, so while I’ve been toiling away at the day job 15 hours a day (which greatly prohibits me from enjoying myself in my real life, dammit!) I’ve come across some shit I just have to share. I’m going to try to keep it to a list form so it’s not a tome, but you guys know I can go on and on and on… ;)
1. McDonalds: KEEP YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF MY DESSERT!!!
So, I only eat McDonald’s about twice a year cause that shit’ll kill you, but I do occasionally swing by to get a kiddie-sized cone. They’re super adorable, 45 calories and just enough to quench my craving. (Side note: once I type something incorrectly it takes me 15 tries to get it right. I had to type the word “enough” literally about 9 times before typing it correctly. Blasted non-working appendages!) Okay, so back to McD’s.
I went to the one in the Wallymart and ordered a kiddie cone. The young man who goes to make it was, and I kid you not, just emptying the trash. So, he grabs the cone with his filth covered, un-gloved mitts and puts the ice cream in it. THEN he sets it down on the freaking counter that people sneeze, cough and set their children’s grubby butts on. Why didn’t he just wipe his ass with it and then hand it to me?
So, I look at the girl behind the counter and say, “I’m totally not a germaphobe. I’ll eat stuff that’s been on my kitchen floor for 3 days. But would you mind making me a kiddie cone since you weren’t just emptying the trash? And would you mind not setting it on the counter?” She smiles, seemingly genuinely, and says sure.
On her way to grab the cone she sneezes wildly. Of course. But in an effort to not dirty her hands she doesn’t cover her nose and mouth, so great mists of snot just go EVERYWHERE! You can see the mist glittering in the overhead light. And what do you think she sneezed on besides half the country? Yep. All of the unwrapped kiddie cones.
Does this deter her? Nope. She picks up a snot covered nightmare, fills it with ice cream, doesn’t even consider wearing gloves or holding the now-wet cone with a napkin, and hands it to me and says, “I totally understand. I wouldn’t want to eat anything off that counter either.”
Can we all just say it together? Fuck me. No cone for Jodi today!
2. People in General: IF YOU DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW WHAT A PSYCHOLOGICAL TERM ACTUALLY MEANS, DON’T FUCKIN’ USE IT!
I’m lucky enough to have to interact with an asshat (“enough” only took 7 tries this time!) on a daily basis. This person makes me wanna pull my eyes out of my head, then slam my blind noggin into plate glass because the pain of that is far less than putting up with their dumb ass. It’s like interacting with a narcissistic monkey trained to torment me to the point of self-mutilation.
Somehow, I typically get to be the lucky recipient of the preponderance of this person’s shit. And the other day, while whining like a small child who didn’t get a second cookie before dinner, this person tells me that I’m passive aggressive. HA! Now, I gotta tell you…I’ve been called a lot of things in life (luckily, most of them have not been unkind) but passive aggressive? Have you guys ever known me to be passive aggressive? Aggressive? Sure. I’m no wilting flower. But passive aggressive?
Passive aggressive is the mother-in-law who, while dragging her white-gloved finger across the top of your door frame, looks at you with a big smile and says, “Oh, how lovely. You found the time after all that shopping you do to clean the house. What a good wife you are to my son.” Of course, you wanna kill the bitch, but she says it so sweetly–even though you and I (and she) know it’s layered with a million small cuts that will eventually be the end of you.
So, for all the asshats out there with which I am forced to deal, here are a few definitions of passive aggressive. If you’re going to insult me, at least get it right.
So, now that we’ve seen it in black and white, how on God’s green earth does this describe me?
My guess is that this person tried to figure out something to say that they hoped would be insulting to me while making them seem intelligent and abused by mean old me. Hmmmmm…you’re talking to the wrong person, buddy. What a fucknut.
3: Teddy bears (which should be ONE WORD, dammit!) are the most awesome thing on earth.
I have made it my mission to buy every 1987 Gund Daisy Cow teddy bear I can find. I have 7 of them.
Yes, I’m quite certain that makes me insane, or very close to it.
I’m sure I probably need some sort of medication. But I love those damn things so much! And I want to rescue them from homes that no longer want them. Who would SELL a teddy bear? That’s jacked up. But, I’m lucky people do cause I snatch ’em up. And there’s nothing really wrong with selling a teddy. I just can’t bear to let any of them escape me and my clutches! ;)
4: I’m totally happy for and supportive of Bruce Jenner–you do your thing and have a joyful life…but…
In his interview with Diane Sawyer he’s essentially asking people to accept him for who he is, not judge, and understand that everyone is different and that that’s not just okay but should be celebrated. I could not agree more. You guys know I don’t care about anyone’s religion, race, sexuality (but leave the sheep alone please…they can’t consent! ;) ). I truly believe people should be encouraged to be who they are and achieve all the joy they can get out of a pretty tough world. Acceptance of other people is one of the single greatest gifts you can give to yourself and everyone else on the planet. (Okay, getting off my soapbox!) :)
BUT! If you are going to ask for people to be non-judgmental, then maybe you should practice what you preach. There was a scene where he was talking about beating the Russian in the Olympics and he mentions that he ran into the same Russian 30 or so years later. Then he laughs and brings up how the Russian had gotten fat, so he (Bruce) won twice because he’s still in great shape.
Ummm…so not cool. You can judge people for being in their 60s and being overweight–we aren’t supposed to look 20 forever!–but you want no one to judge you? How about you start with kindness towards others first?
I was very disappointed. But I still hope he finds great joy, love and a tremendous amount of support.
5. Jamie Dornan is NOT MY CHRISTIAN GREY!!!! ;)
I know. Shut up! Not a good movie. But I had to. It was like the Twilight books. Had to read them. Had to watch the movies, even though I, honest to God, laughed my ass off throughout the entire first movie. It looked like they’d just hosed the vamps down with baby powder. Truly funny. Anyway, there’s no accounting for my taste and I make no excuses! Sometimes a girl has to step away from Dante and read some juicy shit.
But, why couldn’t Jax from Sons of Anarchy have stayed cast as Mr. Grey? He didn’t exactly fit the mold either, but damn…that would have made the movie more tolerable. Jax is kinda pretty, ya know. And while I rarely comment on the prettiness of another man out of respect to the hubby, I think they look a little bit alike, so I don’t think I should feel bad for commenting on Jax’s hotness. ;)
I will say this about the movie…in one scene he says to the girl something to the effect of, “I’d like to fuck you into the middle of next week.”
Uhhhh…mmmm…yeah. That’s a good thing to say. I think any man with a willing woman should go say that to her right now. Total yum! Lust is very underrated. ;) Quit reading this and go bang your hot woman!
Okay, I’ve typed my fingers bloody. Must go watch some TV and let the brain relax.
Love you guys and I hope you all have a wonderful (and long if you are in the States) weekend.
PS: Wednesday morning at 4:35 am I awoke to the sound of my kitty horking up a hair ball. Then one minute later woke up further to the cold, wet spew of her vomit in my hair, on my neck and running down my cleavage. So, if you see me on Cops being arrested for kitty-i-cide, you now know why. ;)
Okay, so those of you who know me know that as far a I’m concerned, women never have to “use the bathroom” for anything besides powdering their noses.
I don’t like bathroom talk.
If I could, I’d pretend bathrooms don’t exist.
I don’t wanna know what goes on it one, why I shouldn’t “go in there for 20 minutes” or anything else related to bathroom things. It’s just gross.
You guys have heard me before say that my idea of heaven is that when I die God will let me play with a truckload of non-pooping otters. It’s not heaven if they poop on you.
So, needless to say when I saw the latest Cottonelle ad I almost threw up in my mouth, out of my mouth, on to the cats and all over the floor.
Seriously, don’t we all know the purpose of toilet paper?
Do we really need a commercial where a girl in white pants, who has clearly snorted too much blow, asks a man if he thinks this new TP is so good that he can go commando? (Cause there are just so many new fangled things one can do to TP to make it tons better—ugh, idiots.) And I love that they picked someone with a delightfully cheery British accent…does that somehow make it more proper to discuss your bowels and what they do?? Good Lord…
Anyway, apparently, rippled TP is the first and only difference between having a poopy butt and not having one. Does this mean we’ve all walked around nasty our entire lives until this particular TP? Yay! Saved by new TP! Now I can have a friend or two because I’m not basking in my own glorious filth all day, every day.
While I am loathe to give this gross and disgusting company any publicity, click on Miss Poo’s jolly face to watch the revolting video where, when you get down to it, she’s asking strangers, “Can you wipe your ass well enough to not get filth all over the inside of your pants?” I mean, c’mon people? Really? Is NOTHING SACRED ANYMORE!!!???? Must we talk about mookie stinks making a permanent home on your panties in such graphic and disgusting detail on television???
So, here’s what I vote for.
Below is the kind of TP ad I wanna see (though I’d rather see none at all!).
The TV screen would be all white with a still shot of a roll of pristine TP (and maybe an otter or two) and it would have a voiceover that read:
This TP is not made of razor blades.
This TP will not cause you to bleed, get herpes or go insane.
Use it like you’ve been using TP for decades and it’ll do about the same thing that all others do.
Oh, it’s a little softer, if you like that kind of thing.
Now, go back to your happy life and forget I’ve just spent 15 seconds talking about your ass and its relationship with TP.
Thank you and good night.
That’s all I need to know, dammit!
I need nothing more than that and I’m good.
So can we please just say no to these kinds of ads?
Plus, I’m a Charmin girl anyway.
I had an 11th grade student of mine 100 years ago when I taught high school write a poem about me and my butt being squeezable like Charmin*. Lordy, those kids were wonderfully inappropriate. Anyway, I’ve been a Charmin girl ever since cause it still makes me giggle.
Okay, no more butt talk. I’m out.
*Click here to hear Mr. Whipple yet at women for squeezing the Charmin. ;)
Honest to God, I just had THE MOST surreal experience of my life.
As I spend, literally, about 40 hours a week on the phone doing work crap and radio stuff, I decided to get a land line. Does anyone under 35 even know what one of those is? This is what the one on my mom’s nightstand used to look like:
So, I knew I had an old cordless phone system in a bag somewhere, so I dug around in the Closet from Hell and finally found it.
It is an answering machine/phone combo and when I plugged it in I saw I had 21 old messages.
Well, of course I had to listen to them! I hadn’t used that answering machine for almost 10 years and was dying of curiosity.
Wow…what a blast from the past that turned out to be.
The first few were from a guy I used to work with a million years ago that tried everything possible to get my knickers on the floor, to no avail. It didn’t matter how many times I told him to go fuck himself, he just would NOT get the hint. Just hearing his voice again made me want to go take a shower. Thank God I haven’t had to talk to him in over a decade. Ugh.
Then there was one from my oldest friend on earth, Brenda. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers and her message made me laugh and laugh. Apparently, I’d left her some hideously obscene and funny message on her answering machine and she was just getting home from the hospital and heard it. Her laughter at hearing my message warmed my heart. There is no greater thing in the world than making someone giggle. I’m going to save that message forever.
Next was a message from a dear old friend of mine–with whom I might have been naughty many, many years ago. Again, hearing his voice was wonderful. He’s the kind of guy that most of the time has a smile in his voice and it’s always such a blessing to be on the receiving end of that kind of warmth.
Then came the guy I met at the Phoenix Art Museum. Good grief. We’d exchanged a few calls, then he disappeared for a couple of weeks and by that time I’d forgotten he existed. Apparently, he didn’t care for me not returning his calls upon his return. It was so funny listening to his, “Sorry, I was out of town…love to hear back from you…” to “Remember me? I’m the great looking guy you met at…” Ugh. It was like listening to a used car salesman giving his best pitch. Total riot.
After that was the guy who I was really good friends with, but never “did anything” with. This is a quick story I’ve gotta tell. An old girlfriend of mine and I were at Alice Cooperstown in downtown Phoenix when we met these 2 totally hot guys. We sat together all night and had a blast. Then they walked us out to my car and, like always, the first thing I did when getting into the car was to put on some music. So, we shut the doors and I turned on the headlights and all of a sudden one of the guys appears in front of my car in the beams from the headlights and starts STRIPPING to the sexy music that was pumping from my car’s speakers.
HOLY SHIT! It was one of the single most sexy things I’ve ever seen in my life. My friend and I both just sat there, drooling down our chin and totally stunned. Who’d have thought that would happen? It was AMAZING and when the song was over he left and we didn’t even know what to do. We were both dumbfounded and quite randy. My friend didn’t even smoke and looked at me and said, “Lemme have one of those.” Ha! Now that made me laugh.
So, Mr. StripperPants and I hung out all the time and while said hanging out was occurring I had to be admitted to the hospital for emergency surgery. Totally not fun. While I was there he called one time and said to look out for flowers coming my way the next day in the hospital. They never arrived and neither did any more calls for about a week. WTF? He and I hung out about 5 times a week and now that I’m down for the count, no calls? Well, to me that’s not a friend. So when he did start calling back I ignored him. Never took one more call. All his messages were apologizing, making excuses, blah blah blah. I have no patience for that shit. And the thing is, I don’t give a rat’s ass about getting flowers. What bothered me was that if you say you are going to do something to someone who is literally holding hands with the Grim Reaper, then fuckin’ do it. It was the disappointment that hurt. Apparently he didn’t do well when other people weren’t perfect, healthy and available on his terms. Can we all say it together, “Fuck that!” I don’t and never did have time for fair-weather friends. (That may make me sound like a bitch, but the relationship was deeper than 3 paragraphs can describe and that kind of abandonment was not appreciated one bit. I forgive super easy, but I learn from my mistakes and I know when to run away from a bad, one-sided relationship.)
Next, were some random calls from guys whose voices I didn’t even recognize. That’s nuts to me because I rarely gave out my number to men. How on earth can I not recognize their voices? Totally weird as apparently I knew them well enough for them not to say their names on my machine. But the calls were sweet and reminded me of what it’s like to be single and how crazy navigating single men can be.
Lastly, was the ex-husband. I won’t go into detail on those messages because they are private and hurt my heart to hear. But they were right after the divorce and not easy to listen to. I hope with everything I have that he’s found love and joy in his life.
What a crazy 15 minutes listening to those old messages. I’m so glad they somehow still exist because they remind me that I’ve had one hell of a fun, crazy, exciting, maddening, loving, and lunacy-filled life.
They also remind me that I’m so very thankful to have wonderful friends and a spectacular husband. Even though some of those old days are dark and grim, I wouldn’t trade one of them because everything I’ve ever experienced has brought me to where I am today–and for that I couldn’t be more blessed.