A little rant and a lot of rave.

Dear Bloggers....



I only entered the blog world about a year ago. In my time on blogworld, I have seen it all. Okay. Not it all but I have seen a lot.



I have seen the mean, nasty assholes who find websites and trash them or send them condescending emails desperately trying to convince the receiver that they are worthless and that the mean nasty sender is the "Awwww Powerful."



I have seen dipsticks giving their "humbled" opinions all.to.often. Trying to fix the world one blogger at a time. If you put up a picture that is "distasteful" in their "humbled opinion" they advise you that you are being disrespectful, rude, or some other stupid shit. In my "experience" as a human, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. And truly, what your description of distasteful or disrespectful is could be way off cue and completely different from the next persons. So. Shut up.



I have seen bloggers who are super dooper popular and in my "humbled" opinion, they are cheesy and fake. So. I don't revisit that particular website. I move on to one more my taste. Something that is more for my liking. I don't discuss in detail in a full-blown email or comment of why I don't like them. That is humiliating. Not only to the blogger, but to yourself. You sorta look like a desperate loner with nothing else to do. A Blogger Bully. Cowards.



I'm not quite sure how to put this. Let's see if I can do it tactfully.



Nobody likes a whiny-assed, disturbed, low lifed fuck who finds pleasure in hiding behind the their computer trash talking someone else.



Delicate is not my forte.



However, I don't hunt you down, write some malicious remarks or mouth some inaccurate accusations. I'm sorry. Unless you are God himself, you don't have the right to judge. So. Shut up.



I was once making my way up the bloggy ladder. Meeting a ton of friends, getting a lot of comments and even more awesome emails. I was on my way.



I got bored and overwhelmed way to quickly. Sure. I see these blogs that are the Prom Queens of the blogworld. They have admirers. I am usually one of them. And I admit, sometimes I get a little sickly because I feel like the pocket protector nerd secretly stalking the beauty queen, but let's face it, I get overwhelmed easily. And I would be very intimidated to have so many lurkers.



So. My small amount of friends is just fine with me. Sure. I would like to be a bit more popular and maybe find a happy medium however, I don't keep myself up at night worried about it. If I was meant to be popular, then I would be. I cannot force myself upon people because I am more out going then some of the blogs. The pretty, sweet and nice blogs are like virgins compared to me. So. If they wish to take a visit to the wild side, I would welcome them. Nonetheless, I cannot forcefully make them loose their virginity.



Most of the time, I laugh at rude remarks and snotty emails. They make me feel empowered. And the general rule in life is that you usually have triple the friends then you do enemies. So. Enemies just verify that I have bloggy friends.



But seriously, when you play the "I'm a terrible mom" card to me, I am gonna fight back. Maybe because that is like sucker punching a man in his gonads. You are hitting below the belt.



You bet my daughter is mouthy, sassy and smart assed. But she is mine, and I happen to like her, so kiss my ass you sack of vomit.



She may be pre-hormonal and I am definitely menopausal which excuse me.....is like water and oil. We argue like the dickens. But. I love her pre-hormonal ass.



What is really mind boggling to me is that I rarely discuss my relationship with my baby girl. Not because I don't wanna be a mom blogger. But because my job is being a mom. I rarely get to discuss sex because I am usually in "Mom Mode" and this blog gives me a brief moment to be something other then a mom. It's like a lunch break. However, I am 100% dedicated to my motherly role. And I may not be the ideal mother for you but that, my enemy, is why I am not your mother. I am my daughters mother. And she happens to love and adore me. I know this because she tells me it a few hundred times a day. And I likewise to her. And she is my true love in life.



I am not a spectacular mom and never said anything different. But I am certainly not a mis-fit mother either as you so spitefully called me. And the worst thing is that I have this need to explain my parental role to you....a coward. A harasser. A filthy ass. However, I did have to explain myself and I hope it helps you to understand that if you were to have said the same thing to my face, I would have spit venom in your eye. Yet again, like I am sure you have done to others, you hide behind your computer screen probably masturbating because you are a complete idiot and have nothing or anyone else to do. My suggestion to you, is stick you penis up your ass and screw yourself (if your a man). If your a female, buy a dildo. Seriously, you need to have an orgasm.

I have so much more to say, but I won't. You and your ghastly friends who are causing pain in other blogs as well need to find another hobby before you get chewed up and spit out.

And you are a gigantic loser. And my daughter is a happy, healthy loved child. She is loved by many because of her outgoing personality and lovable nature. I feed her with confidence everyday. I cry with her when she gets her sensitive little heart broken and I hug her when she is confused and hurt by peons like yourself. Trust me. If you are looking for a heartless abusive mom, you have landed in the wrong place. Bastard.

Go get yourself some help. Kay??????

You are not so loved by:
The Pissed off Firecracker.

P.S.

You probably won't understand a lot of this if you did not write the email and for that, I apologize. :0)

I hope this doesn't give you nightmares.

Because my words have escaped me these last few days and my brains only function right now is to bring me grief and worry, I thought I would give you tid bits of me.

1. I'm not a jealous person at all. My husband can enter a strip club and he need not worry about his wife getting all green-eyed monster on him. Usually, I enter the strip club with him and have sat in sniffers row.

*note. Before the judgements are ruled and rumors fly....I am the furthest thing from a lesbian. I could vomit in your lap just thinking of that. Because I am damn sure of my sexuality it doesn't bother me to give a naked chick a few bucks. She's probably just trying to feed her babies. And if I had a body to make some money instead of making some puke, I would have sex with a pole too.

2. Once upon a time, a bunch of my best girls and all of our tag along husbands entered a strip club. The ladies paid me because my boobs are homegrown. And they liked them a lot. I scored $40 without ever showing off my Buddhas. Sweeettt.

3. This has backfired too. The same night, a working girl who was clearly into S&M attacked me and showed me who was in charge. She spanked my butt so hard that I had hand prints the next day. The entire bar was screaming and laughing at my agony. She paid me $10 of the $40 dollars. I think she felt bad.

4. I was the maid of honor in my girl friends wedding. For her bachelorette party, we did a scavenger hunt. She was hesitant to do some of the challenges so I took over. One of the goals was to swindle $50 off of men only. I made her over $150 that night. I was empowered and decided to go for broke after the $50 came from one man. Men are so stupid. And I didn't have to take off my shirt once. BooRah! nevermind the fact that the men would have paid more to keep my clothes on

5. My sister and mom are constantly on the Weight Watchers diet. My sis lost over 100lbs. She is sexy and svelte now. This pisses her older sister off. So. When I bring dishes for holidays, I promise them that I made it with all low fat ingredients. I really do not. Mwahahahaha.

6. Drama, Trauma and crap is attracted to me. I'm like glue. This is why friends call me "Black Cloud Krissy". It's not original, but it is sadly very true.

7. I inherited my gift of laughter from my parents. And they taught me to have fun. I remember growing up we had the most amazing pool parties. My parents had/have a ton of friends and pretty much are loved by all that meet them. I did not inherit that. I have enemies. However, the enemies make me laugh and I love it when people hate me. Their loss.

8. Did you know that South Dakota has Cobra's? I kid you not. I have seen these snakes along with Boa Constrictors and Anaconda's. They reside in my back yard. My husband calls them Gardner Snakes however, he hasn't seen the beasts that taunt me.

9. I am a bonafide KLUTZ. Ask my long time friends, their parents, their siblings, my parents, my sister, my neighbors, anyone. I am the family klutz. Yet. I have never broken a bone. Knock on some damn wood already.

10. The person you have known to lovehate on this blog is exactly the person you would meet in person. I don't pretend to be something I am not. I am a loon. I am crazy. I am all of the above. I do fear that if I met my blog friends in person that you would be highly disappointed though. It's an insecurity I carry.

Happy Weekend Friends.

Thank God for happy pills.

I'm doing good. While I was sleeping, I had a visit from the "Pull it together loser" Fairy and I am doing better today. I'm still very worried, but a couple of happy pills, a half bottle of wine and a tear fest pulled me out of the shitter.

My daughter's issues seem better since her awesome mom came to school to enjoy a little lunch. All the kids wanna sit by me because I am the cool mom and I always bring cookies for the monsters so she felt pretty special. The bullies had the look of fear in their eyes and I'm pretty sure are well aware that they don't wanna mess with this mommaCat. Meeeoooowww.

I'm trying to be positive. I'm going to go watch Mall Cop because it looks hilarious and then I am gonna go drink with a friend. I'm very aware that I sound like a lush.

Although things are still pretty hard for me I am managing. My sweet goober of a husband told me that if I smile more, he will take me to Texas to see my bestest friend. So. I need to make myself happy so I can go hang with my number one fan, go to Six Flags and ride roller coasters until I puke.

Now. I am going to go do some laundry, help with homework, clean my daughters beastly room and then run like hell to get out of this house.

And just like that....

Life starts to make me shake my head in disgust again.

My beautiful friend, whom I love and adore, had some terrible news to tell me today. Her middle son, who is a young teenager, has a golfball sized tumor on his brain.

For now, there is no word on if it is cancerous. He had a major seizure last week which triggered the tests to determine the tumor. If he has another seizure, they are concerned his precious heart will not take it well. Friday is a trip to the specialist and from what we understand, a biopsy will be done to determine rather or not it is....the ugliest word I know, cancer.

I don't even know what else to say right now. I don't have an answer and all I could say to her sweet voice as it was cracking with pain, is "I'm praying." I'm planning on spending some time with her this weekend. Just supporting her.

I could vomit by just thinking of her pain. Her fears. Her heartache. I hate thinking about it. I'm scared it will be me in that position some day. I know, I cannot think that way but I do. I cannot stop. And I don't want her hurting this way either. I want her to be okay. I want her son to be okay.

And if that isn't enough, her son is scared. He has fears. He doesn't understand. He shouldn't have to understand. Why? Why? This boy is a sweet, big hearted soul. Why?????

My heart. It hurts. I cannot stop thinking about him. About his fears. His mother doesn't want him to sleep alone afraid that he will have another seizure. It's pathetic. It's disgusting. It's wrong. I cannot get the words out that I want to. Ugh.

And then my daughter is getting bullied. Like in her face bullied. And I tried to help the situation and probably made it worse. I don't want to get into it because I can barely see through my tears however, it just sucks that I cannot do anything right tonight. Trust me. I am doing nothing right. Piss.Piss.Piss.

I know that my life isn't terrible. I have a modest home, money in the bank some, a healthy family and great friends. I know this. But I still feel beat up lately. Honestly, it hasn't been all peaches and cream for us in the last few years. And I feel guilty because I get pissed that we cannot have good luck for more then a freaking week.

I'm sorry. I'm just pissed. I am all out pissed off. And my words are stupid and probably don't make much sense but I am going to hit publish and then go cry for awhile anyway.

I write this post to once again, come here for prayers. Not for me. I will be okay once I get my shit pulled together. But please, pray for my friend and her son. They are hurting. Actually, pray for the whole family because she has other kids that are scared too. And you could say a pray for my daughter for having a dumbass mom like myself. *wink*

It's on like Donkey Kong.

My butt nugget of a husband is messing with fire.


Because I now have a super-uber classy expensive camera, he feels that he can put his plump fingers all over it. And as if that isn't enough to shave off his eyebrows while he is sleeping, he takes terrible, horrible, disgusting, "my chins are going to need their own zip code soon" pictures.



I suppose some of you want to see these pictures so you could all just hee-haw laugh your butts off.



I don't disappoint.



Exhibit A of why my husband is going to be extracting his "man danglers" out of his throat.





Oh save your comments. I was sick with some horrific disease that makes you smile upside down. I'm lucky to be alive. I was sleeping downstairs because I was having hot flashes like a mother sucker. I cannot believe I frown in my sleep. Apparently, gravity has effected more then my milk jugs.



Exhibit B: Okay. I really don't have an exhibit B because I delete all pictures of me looking like something you should flush down the shitter. But believe me. He has taken pictures of me that had made my jaw drop at the pure ugliness.



It's on like Donkey Kong. I don't know how or when because he is not as hard to embarrass as me but mark my words, he is going down like a slut on prom night.



I need some serious shock therapy. Putting this discriminating picture of me on my blog is proof.



Here's a virtual "High Five" if you have ever sought revenge after your peasant of a husband as well.



*smack*

Breathe, Release, Rejoice.

First. Breathe. Easy enough, eh? Actually, take in some big healthy breathes over and over and get some oxygen to that big brain of yours. This is the first step in healing your stress.

Second. Release your stress or anger. Get rid of it. Find a suitable place for it to go. I'll let you lead by my example.

*ahem*

My dear friend is in a tough spot currently. Single mom. Ignorant shit for brains ex-husband and father of her children. Financial struggles that are relentless. She says over and over: "Why can't I get a break?"

Because of the financial difficulties, she is in a slump. And when she is down in the dumps is about the time the bill collectors start calling. Of course, they have impeccable timing. And like so many others in the same situation, she is bullied by these collectors.

The other day she got a call from a debt collection company about a hospital bill for around $500. She desperately tries to explain that she has nothing left over after her household bills, her car and groceries to feed her children.

This particular punk proceeds to "advise" her to default on her car payment for the month to pay him, a unexpected medical bill. "Sir Shithole" informs her that she spends too much money on groceries and her kids do not need to eat that much. He goes down the list of things she should remove from her expenses so he can get paid in full to get commission.

*Insert a pissed off friend that has been helping her friend get out of debt by introducing her to the Dave Ramsey Plan. It is a successful plan because we did it ourselves and are now, debt free.* that was the longest damn 2 sentences EVER

I'm gonna tell you what, there is nothing that pisses me off more then bullies. I know her pain. I have been there. These bastards will torment and torture you until you finally give them a credit card number to put the medical bill on or they will harass you countless times by calling and calling you. AND...AND...THIS PUTZ CALLS HER AT WORK 3-5X'S A DAY. BASTARD.

I'm gonna rip his nut sack off. I'm ready to pounce. NoONe. I mean NoOne bullies my friends or family. Grrrrr.

Let's just say for the sake of a really long ass post, that I spit rat poison in this dudes eye. I know my laws. I did research after research after my hysterectomy because I was the one being bullied at the time. And luckily, I had a good friend who jumped in when I was a big wad of chewing gum and took care of my dirty work. I learned from the best of the best. She was a rock star. And I learned so very much. And I know my laws and rights. And this bastard stumbled into War Territory. The End. Until the next one calls and I get a bite of his ass too.

And I suppose if that doesn't work for you, just kick sand in someone's eye.

And finally, Third you rejoice.

There is nothing more exhilarating then to know you took control of your stress. You did it. You live and learn. And I'm gonna tell you sweet friends, rejoicing is NOT overrated.

My very delusional point here is take it from a chick who had/has numerous panic attacks, anxiety and fear. You live and learn but you cannot learn unless you fail. I have failed. a lot And today, my friend picked her head up, realized she was living in fear, dusted off her bottom and is learning to take action and control.

I am soooo proud of her. It's like succeeding in potty training a toddler. BooRah Baby!

*Note. If you have financial burdens that are causing you great pain, I am highly recommending the Dave Ramsey Plan. It isn't fun. It is something that you have to work hard at. But trust in me, the first time you pay off a bill that has been gnawing at you for awhile, you will feel triumphant and renewed. I only suggest this because I know the financial burdens to well. Not long ago my friends, I was eating my fingernails for dinner. I was a wreck, worrying about money day in and day out. My husband introduced me to the plan, I kicked and screamed however I gave in and did it. And today, I am so relieved I did. Please. Go to Dave Ramsey and learn more. And if you have personal questions, although I am no expert, I do have a very good knowledge about the program and can try to answer your questions. Email me. I'm here to serve you.

If you don't have financial foes because you succeeded in the Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover, then a virtual "High Five" to you.

Flatulence.

Flatulence. Or for bone heads like myself that don't like big words. Fart. Gas. Sneakers. Sliders. Whatever works for you.

You see. This is a natural occurrence. You have to fart. It will come out some way or another. If you don't fart, you burp. If you don't burp, you fart. If you don't do either, your pores will leak out a stench so putrid you will want to die. I heard about that anyway. I'm not a doctor though. But I believe this.

So. The gas that leaks out of my buttocks has caused great grief for me. For instance. I sneeze, I fart. I pray that a plane has just passed over and I can blame it on that. Or a dog is sitting near. Or my husband, cause he gets blamed and he knows better to squeal on me.

However, my prayers go unanswered. No plane. No dog. No hubby. Just me, sneezing and a loud, obnoxious sound escaping through my crack. I don't think that you can physically sneeze and clench your butt cheeks together. It is like sneezing and blinking. It cannot be done.

However, the worst to date was when I was drinking. I was bombed off of tomato beers and crappy cigarettes. It was before my daughter was born, and I had drank for 3 nights straight. Which can only lead to beer farts, which are the most vile smelling toxic gas you could ever inhale. And when you factor in tomato beers, it's downright revolting.

So. I was standing in a mixed crowd of best friends, good friends, acquaintances and strangers. It was packed and the music was loud. I was holding in a ass bomb. My stomach was beginning to go into convulsions. So. In a intoxicated state, I decided to let it fly, knowing full well it was going to be loud.

And just as I relaxed my butt cheeks, the music went dead and for some reason, the crowd was quiet. And they all heard it.

Oh dear Lord. I realized I had to come up with a damn good excuse or blatant lie. I sort of looked up into the eyes of my friends. I was totally busted. My best friend/soul sister was standing in front of me. She loves farts, poop, puke, belly button lint. Whatever. She is a gross lady. She farted on blind date with a guy who was extremely HOT. She took a shit at his apartment (and informed him that she was going to take a dump) before they left for the movie. Her now husband, got the covered wagon on their first *ahem* "make-out" session. She is the opposite of girly, even though her hair and body are perfection. She is a tom boy inside a beautiful girl's body.

Anyway, I digress.

So. As I looked into her eyes, she was already belly rolling. She couldn't contain herself. She was welling up with tears. Laughing her fool ass off. And then in the mix of her giggle fits she yells: "You totally just farted." I look for support from my other friends. They were in no better state then her. Even the "Miss Priss" friend who I swear, has never pooped a day in her life, was rolling on the ground. She is such a faker.

I look to acquittance's, praying for someone to shoot me in the head and end my misery. They were hamming it up too.

Strangers? Hell no. The girls were mortified and the guys were laughing. I was destined to die.

And then. It happened. Like "slo-mo" happened. Everyone smelled the ass gas. And their faces went from laughing to a severe look of vomiting. It was toxic. The strangers quickly left. The acquaintances disappeared too and the friends all fanned their noses or covered their faces with their sleeves. Gagging. Yelling. Spewing.

And that, my friends, is the night I saw my life flash before my eyes.