If you’re here, you’re in the wrong place! I’ve moved to www.theshamefulsheep.com . Come hang out with me.
Every once in awhile I get deeply concerned about people and what the hell they are thinking. Not specific people… just people as a whole. Seriously, what are you guys doing? Are you okay? Do we need to have a talk? Frankly, a lot of you creep me out on a whole different level and make me want to run away to a deserted island with nothing but nachos and a pool filled with raspberry margaritas.Can it get any better than that? I highly doubt it.
It’s been awhile since I’ve looked at my search results, and it was instant regret once I did. So, naturally, I’m going to share them with you so you can be disturbed along with me. Misery loves company, right? (Fair warning: there are some strange people out there. Proceed with caution)
“i love shameful teens”
“elizabeth thatcher shows her pussy from when calls the heart”
“what does sheep pussy look like?”
“why do cats screech during sex?”
“you’re a bunglecunt”
“my sister was born in lame city”
When did this turn into a porn site? Have I ever talked about anything sex-related? WHAT IS GOING ON? Am I missing something? I’m scared.
What’s the strangest search term you’ve ever had? I can’t be the only one that gets such absurd things. I hope.
I’ve been plagued with the cold-from-hell for over a week and strung out on so much cold medicine I could barely comprehend some of the comments you guys left on my last post. So, I’m sorry if I responded with something that made no sense. It was the drugs. The drugs, I tell you! I’ve been MIA but I’m starting to catch up with everyone’s blogs tonight finally!
I don’t have the mental capacity to write today so I’m going to do something totally batshit crazy over here and respond to an award nomination I received. Sort of. I’m going to respond to Lady Dickson’s questions because she kicks ass but, instead of nominating people I’m just going to ask YOU guys a couple questions at the bottom so we can get to know each other a little better. We’re all friends here, right? Answer my damn questions then! (kidding, kidding.)
Lady Dickson’s questions for me:
- Where’s the farthest you’ve traveled from home? I don’t travel much so… the Caribbean? I’m boring. Someone come take me on vacation!
- If you could have witnessed any major historical event, which would you choose? Is it sad I can’t think of anything? Most historical things that come to mind are tragedies… I think I’ll stick with the present.
- What is your go to conversation starter? I don’t have one as I try not to start conversations! The woe of a socially awkward crazy lady.
- Why did you start a blog? To meet and connect with people while doing something I love (writing)
- What is your favourite and least favourite word? Slice/Mortified (Not sure why it’s my favorite, but I sure say it a lot !)
- Have you ever been stung by a bee? Five too many times
- Who is your favourite comedian? Nick Swordson (A totally random but totally hilarious guy)
- Which cartoon character is your spirit animal? Garfield.
- What movie have you walked out on/did you wish you walked out on? Anchorman. I walked out on it the first time I saw it. Then I watched it again at home a year later and loved it. Not sure what my deal was the first time around.
- How many cats is too many cats to own? Is this a joke? You can’t have too many cats…
Here are my questions for y’all:
- If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
- Would you rather be forced to wear fish-scented deodorant all day, or pants made out of bologna?
- If you could punch somebody you know in the face right now, who would it be and why? (Someone you know! I know everybody wants to punch Trump already lol)
- Who is your favorite blogger and why? Share their link!
Answer some or all!
You know when you’re down on your luck, going through a terrible time, and all you want to do is drown yourself in a vat of melted chocolate? Then, you lean on your loved one for support and they say, “don’t worry, everything happens for a reason.” Really? Am I the only one who gets stabby over this saying? My dog got run over for a reason? How comforting.
Now, obviously people say this because they think they are helping, so I can’t fault them too much. I’m equally bad at comforting people. I never know what to say, so I just try to smile and offer to buy them pizza. “Oh, you lost your job? Does that mean you want your pizza with extra cheese then?” I’m terrible at it. Once my friend was crying because her boyfriend suddenly broke up with her and I tried to make it better by doing a dance for her. I even made up a song to go with it. It made her cry harder. Oops.
Be careful who you say ‘things happen to a reason’ to. Things are more personal than that. Things are more traumatic than that. There is no good reason for many things to happen – rape, cancer, infertility, child abuse/molestation, the list goes on.
(PS – Nothing traumatic is happening to me, and I don’t even own a dog. No worries, friends)
In 2014, I ghosted my best friend of 15 years. You know, totally fell of the face of the Earth and dropped all forms of contact with her. I’m not proud of it. There is no denying this is the coward’s way out. But sometime’s you’ve gotta gotta fight fire with fire when you’re dealing with toxic people, and in this case, fighting with fire means doing some totally cool and unnerdy magic tricks and making myself disappear. Abracadabra!
(Photo credit goes to littlebiddy. Go check out their blog!)
I was trying to end my friendship with her years ago… and then she got engaged to my brother. Awkward, right? It wasn’t worth it to put my entire family at war with each other, so I dealt with her. Even when she broke into my house. Then again when she stole money from me. I even shrugged it off when she told me she had a thing for my dad. (100% true. Sick, isn’t it?) When they called their engagement off, she told me, “It’s no big deal. I’m realizing now I didn’t care about being married to your brother, I just wanted to be part of your family so bad.” Her obsession with my family still gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Part of me wishes I went about it more maturely. Part of me wishes I was more outspoken about it. Part of me doesn’t regret it at all. This chick was toxic and brought out the worst in me. It was pure insanity.
Life is just too short for some of this bullshit.
Some people just shouldn’t be in your life, you know? Have you ever been ghosted? Ghosted someone? Had someone date your sibling or want to bang your dad? Cringe
(PS – The majority of people don’t deserve to be ghosted. People deserve closure. Unless they steal your shit and break into your house, do them a favor and just let them know why you don’t like them and honor them by telling them to piss off. Being up front always works.)
Saturday morning my niece thought it would be hilarious to pants me at our family brunch in the middle of talking to my father-in-law. Yep, there I was… standing, minding my own business and talking about how easy it was to make sloppy joes… and down came the pants. I wasn’t sure if I should be more embarrassed by the fact I hadn’t shaved above the knee in a few days, or that my underwear had cat whiskers on it. Either way – mortifying. You’re welcome for the show, Dad. Me-ow.
For some reason my nieces and nephews don’t look at me like I’m a 30-year-old adult, but rather a very large child. Which means any time they are around I’m usually limping around the house pretending to be a purple giraffe that got it’s leg run over by a rogue safari Jeep or something along those lines. It’s better than wine and cheese, really. It’s fun. It’s crazy. It’s a goddamn blessing. It saves me from a lot of awkwardly boring small talk. (Social anxiety’s mortal enemy.) Who the hell wants to spend family time talking about politics and car issues anyway? I’m good on that, thanks.
Pro-tip to my fellow adult-sized children: wear a belt. Nobody want’s to see your kitty’s whiskers.
Hope y’all have a good weekend and are successful in keeping your pants on. Unless, well, you know…
(PS- Sorry if you got the ‘new post’email twice. I posted it on accident yesterday when I wanted to post it today. Forgive me! I hate when people repost their same blogs over and over just to get more views, so I feel ya. It won’t happen again, folks)
When I got my oil changed today the man at the counter would barely acknowledge my presence. He unwillingly listened to me while typing my information into the computer, then proceeded to thank my husband at the end of it. ‘Thank you, sir, for the information and bringing your car in today!’ (So polite, right?) Alex didn’t answer one question. Not one. What in the absolute hell is going on here? Are boobs the secret to invisibility? Did I just discover something new?
It took everything in my power to keep from springing over the counter and putting my fist to his jugular. Or, at the very least, poking him in the eye with my girly manicured fingernail. Sexist asshole.
In other news, I’ll finally be moving to my new self-hosted domain soon. I’ve been putting it off for over a month because I’m afraid to lose y’all but… it’s time. In case I do fall off the face of the Earth for a few days, you will be able to find me here: www.theshamefulsheep.com . I’ll let you guys know when it’s up and running!
Today my social anxiety and awkwardness claimed another victim. I really don’t know how I’ve made it so long without being monitored in public. I need to hire an adult nanny so they can help me from making a fool of myself. All I need is a social companion. Do those exist? Should I hire someone? Anyone need a job hanging out and being emotional support to a woman on the brink of crazy-town? Unlimited Wi-Fi and Diet Coke available. Games and activities like Exploding Kittens and brownie-eating-competitions will be provided. (Just don’t blow up my real cats, okay?)
(This started as a joke, but now there’s a part of me that really wants to hire someone who will do all of that with me. A sad testament to how little friends I have that it’s come to the point I’d consider paying someone to be one. Loser alert. It’s hard being an adult.)
On to today’s victim in the pharmacy:
Woman: Excuse me, I know you don’t work here… but can I ask you something?
Me: Sure. Unless it’s about condoms. I don’t use those so I don’t really have any legitimate advice on them. If I were you, I’d go with the ones that emphasize the woman’s pleasure though. Why the hell not, right? You’re the one here buying them. It’s okay being selfish sometimes.
Me: I know what you’re thinking, but it was an educated and personal decision of ours. I’m married. Happily married even!
Woman: … I was just going to ask you if you knew where the Claritin was…
Me: Oh.. uh.. sorry. It’s right over there. Next to the hemorrhoid creams. Which, thankfully, I also don’t need to use. *nervous laughter*
*Woman stares at me with wide eyes and runs away*
Ever see something so disturbing you wish you could rip your eyes out and trade them in for a new set? Or, at the very least, have the option of inviting over the Men in Black and having them zap away some unpleasant memories? Wouldn’t that be nice? Damn. I read a news article yesterday that reminded me of something last year that haunted me on a daily basis. Prepared to be disturbed. Or offended. Either is okay…. we’re all friends here.
Last summer, I took my 6-year-old niece to the birthday party of one of her classmates. Now, I don’t have any kids and always feel awkward in these situations, so I like to pretend I’m busy on my phone besting my Angry Birds score or something. (It sucks being socially awkward, you know?) Then, another classmate at the party came up to me to talk about the game while she was eating some birthday cake.
Girl: Oh, I’m way past that score! Here… I can show you how to play it right.
Girl’s Mom (to me): Oh, you don’t have to let her use your phone. She just can’t put the electronics down!
Me: Oh, that’s okay. I’m impressed at her game skills.
Girl: I’m thirsty mom, can I have milk?
Girl’s Mom: Sure, come sit here. *Takes her boob out to breastfeed*
*6-year-old girl runs over to suck her mom’s boob while she’s wrecking my Angry Birds score. Phone is officially declared to be in a hostage situation at this point.*
I was…. mortified.
Now… let me just say this – I fully support the movement for normalizing breastfeeding. I think people make a big deal out of it when it shouldn’t be. But… I can’t help but be disturbed by this. The situation legitimately made me feel sick to my stomach. This girl is in 1st grade and eating normal food like cake. The only thing I could manage to do was ask for my phone back and use the bathroom excuse. GOTTA GO, CAN’T WAIT!
How would you have reacted to this situation? Are you disturbed? Weirded out? Slightly nauseous? Or do you think this is 100% normal and okay?
What is going on? This is why I try to stay home as often as possible.
Lately I’ve decided life is too hard and I’ve been finding it helpful to practice my favorite yoga position – face down on the couch in a pile of blankets. Ever get like that? I mean, seriously… unless someone is dying, don’t bother me. My mind is on vacation and the most important thing on my agenda is to see how many mini marshmallows I can fit in my mouth. (16. The answer is 16.) Thank God my husband hasn’t run away screaming bloody murder from disgust over my aversion to showers the past few days. The cats have taken to avoiding me. Assholes.
When I was finally able to drag my sorry ass out of the house, Alex and I decided to do something fun to lift the mood: bad food and arcade games. It works, guys. 4 out of 5 doctors in the US recommended.
Yes, that’s fried onion strings. On top of boneless buffalo wings. On top of a a pile of melted blue cheese. On top of a burger. I love America.
Then Alex won me a stuffed polar bear. He is the King Of The Claw Machine.
Yes, I’m 29 and still get excited over my husband winning me a stuffed animal. I’m not embarrassed.
I hope y’all had a great Easter filled with an overabundance of chocolate and jelly beans. Now that I’m functioning like a normal person again, I will be spending time catching up on the blogs I’ve missed.