It’s so hard to believe it’s only been 5 days since my mother plopped her opiate withdrawn ass on my couch and declared my home now hers.

Is there not some law against this?

Her primary care physician sent us to the hospital stating that there was no way mother could take care of herself on her own without medical intervention to help her complete her opiate detox and physical therapy to get her back on track again. Mind you, Mom had me grab a wheelchair to bring her in there and she hung her head off to the side and maybe even drooled on herself a little while we were there. She missed her call as an actress.

The hospital kept us for hours and did a full cat scan. The doctor tells us the cat scan shows no reason she should be admitted into the hospital. He gave her a shot and sent her home.  I hear this and I wonder how much of the whole thing is hype. I’ve lost hundreds of dollars since she’s been here because I can’t work, and now I have a GOD AWFUL flu from being in and out of the hospital with her.

If I don’t work how does she expect me to care for her. I can’t even lie down without her taking great thrill at having me get up to bring her some menial thing such as a glass of water or a book. Mind you, she’s only 63, and the doctors have said the only thing wrong with her is opiate withdrawal, there’s nothing showing on the cat scan to give cause to alarm. Yet I had one bottle of prescription Motrin from when I broke my ribs and she took them ALL in the 5 days she’s been here.

So yes, I feel justified in my resentment. I feel totally ok with my imagination taking the wheel as I envision dumping her and her bags back off at her house and driving away.

She’s trying to get me to get her into a new pain clinic, using me as the daughter of a poor elderly disabled woman who needs pain meds to live. OMFG.

I want my house back. I am so disenchanted I am fully prepared to pack what little I have and run away.



I hope this post will make you think twice when deciding what breed of puppy or dog to get when searching to fill that spot that a dog probably isn’t going to fill anyway.

Reasons NOT to get a dog

  1. You are famous for keeping up with the Jonses. The Jonses have a yorkie. You MUST have a yorkie! You don’t bother to google the breed, you hop on over to INBREDS R US and buy a yorkie. Because you didn’t research the breed you didn’t know toy dogs are hard to potty train. You can’t understand why it’s pissing all over the house while you are at work. It’s 3 months old now! You regret your decision because it’s so damn stupid. You buy a cage and leave it in there while you are gone 8 hours every day. You wind up with a dog who lays in piss all day and no one can stand to touch it. Because it smells like a sewer you are not close enough to see the ammonia is causing the eyes to run constantly. The dog has an inch thick brown scab under both eyes that bleeds every time the groomer bathes it. After the groomer hands you your dog everyone in the shop exclaims how little and cute your dog is. You walk out of Petsmart beaming with pride. For two days everyone loves the dog, until it pees on the floor again. God you hate that fucking dog! Back in the cage it goes.
  2.  You see Oprah on TV with a cocker spaniel. You MUST be like Oprah. You don’t bother to google the breed, you just grab your keys and head to the local skank backyard breeder and talk them down $100. You don’t ask questions,  You just want a cheap, expensive looking accessory you can walk around the park with your gigantic genuine fake Coach bag bouncing on your hip. You wind up with a fat 40 pound diabetic dog that you leave in the back yard because it smells like rotten milk and diapers.  You take it twice a year to get it shaved down and call it a day. Because you did not research the breed, you did not know that Cocker Spaniels need a high protein no grain diet due to allergies that cause their eyes to run constantly and their ears to stay infected and swollen from yeast. Because they scratch their ears, the yeast spreads to the feet causing them to swell. Now the dog doesnt like to walk. It lays around matted and stinking, rotting in the back yard. It eventually goes blind and deaf because if you’d known you were going to have to take the damn dog to the vet every other month, you would never have gotten the smelly bastard in the first place.
  3. Your sister in Florida got a shihtzu. You are so sick of your sister bragging about how playful and adorable her dog is.  You don’t bother to research the breed. You head over to craigslist and get what the lady (who conveniently doesn’t have the parents on site) tells you is a champion bloodline IMPERIAL shihtzu. She even has PAPERS. You plop down $800 and text your sister that you just paid $800 for an IMPERIAL shihtzu with PAPERS. Yay you! Your groomer tells you that your chihuahua mix is adorable. You are outraged that this woman can’t recognize a champion breed when she sees one. You tell her you have papers. The groomer apologizes, and they all laugh behind your back when you leave.
  4. You seen a bad ass celebrity with a Mastiff on television. You want a Mastiff so that you too can look like a bad ass. You hop on over to the flea market and buy a bull mastiff out of the back of a pickup truck. The guy in the baseball hat missing both front teeth tell you that they got all their shots and pedigree papers but they forgot them at home. you leave your phone number with them and never get that promised call. You wind up with a 130 lb Coonhound German Shepherd Mix who sheds all over the house so you keep it in the yard. It winds up with Hip dysplasia and a tendency to knock you off your feet as he takes off to follow a scent and chase the tires of a car passing by as he bounds away.


  1. You and your partner sit down with the kids who have been begging for a family pet. You think of the pros and cons of having a pet and decide a dog would be best because you want a companion for the children, a protector for the house while you are asleep and at work, and you know the kids are old enough now to be responsible for helping bathe, feed, and walk it. You talk about these responsibilities. You talk about breeds. You all get a voice on what breeds you are interested in and you go to the library, the bookstore, or the all-knowing Google and research each breed. You look up puppy training, genetic traits, grooming needs and diet. You look at your budget and decide how much can go monthly into dog ownership and choose a pet insurance plan in case of the unexpected. You vote on a breed you all agree suits the needs and wants of the home and will become a part of the family, for better or worse, for hopefully the next 15 years. You look up reputable breeders who specialize in only one breed. The breeder will have both parents on the property. The breeder will have proof of at least three generations back genetic disorder testing and bloodline. You know from the research to look at the gums, the ears, the rear end, and the undercoat. The breeder has a shot record available for you with the name of the vet who has been treating them. You head home with a healthy puppy. It is now in your hands to train and love and keep him safe.
  2. Your family does all the above with the one exception that you agree that there are too many unwanted puppies in the world and you want to give an unwanted dog a new leash on life. You go to the pound and visit at least twice the dog you have chosen to bring home and make a part of your family. You have brought the kids, family cat and other dogs you may have to see how they interact. You realize this type of situation will take extra love and training because you dont know what kind of life this dog has had but you are willing to do what ever it takes to show him that he is not trash to throw away when you are done with him. If he poos on the carpet or eats your shoes or barks at the wall, you are willing to change your behaviours or get a trainer to help you work through the issues until they are finally resolved.


The Virgo Dragon went up in flames like the Phoenix

He always said we’d Burn

I’m just not ready, don’t think I’ll ever be

To embrace the fire’s licking wrath.

I’m stuck here on Earth

Wandering aimlessly without him

I think I am the last

He shoulda told me, the bastard.

It’s been a while

Since anyone has licked the wound of my soul.

No need for sentimentalism now.

The Virgo Dragon went up in flames

He sent me a Christmas Card before he left

Guess he was expecting me to follow.

Look who’s grinning now!

But only sometimes.

Most times I just cry


My 13 year old has been in residential treatment since July.

She has been labeled with a string of various acronyms. Three doctors have tested her and all results have come back with Sociopathic tendencies which refrain them from allowing her to return to me or society. Her being  separated from family only makes her more manic so she’s acting out there, which only perpetuates their decision.

My little girl  was the only one of my children that was completely discipline resistant. While a baby, if she wanted something and I would not let her have it, she would have violent fits, and although I still would NOT give in, she would keep it up for days, Unlike most babies that forget as soon as you offer a distraction, she would fixate on being told no. As she got older her hitting and shoving children resulted in being suspended various times and her tendency to get off the bus and run away trying to get back home resulted in her being placed in special ed. By the middle of first grade I started homeschooling her. Trying to do what’s right, I got her a therapist and she’s been in treatment her entire life.

Labeled as severe ADHD she was on adderall until she was about 10, then she was diagnosed as BPD. The bipolar drugs made her see and hear things that were not there and she start cutting. I took her to the psychiatric hospital three times in hopes they would keep her long enough to have medication regulated, but she would be sent home in a week or less with a new drug. Deciding her life was not worth the risk, I pulled her off the drugs and kept her regulated through an all natural diet in which she detested me for, but it kept life tolerable for months at a time. In 6th grade I put her in public school because I did not feel confidant progressing any further. She was able to control herself for longer periods by this age.  School was going so well, she was far above her level. I felt I would be robbing her if I tried teaching her high school lessons so the only thing to do was put her in public school and have her tested.  I let them know her issues but they did not take me seriously as she looks like such an angel. She met a bad boy and things went straight to hell. Within a few months events unfolded that landed her where she is today and there is nothing I can do.  I’ve had to swallow this pill of truth in the past months. The Grief has taken me though a hell I did not know existed outside loosing my husband, she is alive yet I grieve her childhood. I see children playing and laughing and it fills me with such a profound sense of loss.

My sister called me crying one day asking me to watch the video chandelier by Sia. She told me to wait until I was done working for the day, but I really needed to see it. She didn’t tell me why but I figured it was really important. I’d heard the song and didn’t see how it was relevent to me, but I watched anyway. Tears poured down my face. There was my child. In all her beautiful blonde rage, rampaging through the house trying to rid herself of something she can’t see. It was her, there on the screen, and for the first time I felt like I understood my baby. And I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t and I wanted to talk to her, but I can’t. The pain was unbearable. I was suddenly so immensely lonely, the ghosts of my husband and my daughter’s voices and faces everywhere. I got on OK cupid, created a profile, and proceeded to fuck the pain away. It worked for about three months. Every stranger’s skin made for forget for a few hours who I was, where I’d been, what was happening. It became an addiction. I did not realize this was a form of self harm until the day I heard Johnny Cash on the radio.

My breakdown hit me quite unexpectedly. I’d been driving along happy as a clam after getting my booty call fix and Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” comes on the radio. The lyrics cut through my walls like hot steel. My vision was blurred by tears. I tried to choke it back because i was driving, but nothing I could do would stop the hysteria building inside me. I was passing by my sisters street. I call her screaming I need her she tells me come on, come now, hurry. I am pretty sure in all my sisters years, she has never seen me cry. I hide it well. Not that night. I pull in almost hitting her mailbox.  I fall out of the car into her arms and sob the tears of four decades.

Years in my sisters arms pass. She is silent as she has never ever seen the interior of the fortress walls. She does not know what to say. I said “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. This song came on and I just fell apart. They may take her for good. What am I going to do? What’s going to happen to her?” She tells me we can fight this. We will get lawyers. I say thank you thank you and I hug her.

I look up and my mother is on my sisters Porch. She is looking down on us with the most heartbroken look on her face.

And the crazy bitch says

“I just can’t believe Kimberly is who you’d call if you got upset. I guess this is what I get. My daughters don’t need me.”

Now folks, I may like Human Puppy Dogs, I might like dressing up in latex and tipping ashes in a willing subs mouth, I might like brushing a guys teeth and washing him in the tub. But if I were truly crazy, I would have acted upon my instinct to go up on that porch and punch my mother square in her 300,000 dollar face.

But instead I say, “Aw mom, Kims was the closest place to go”


I found myself  frightening the neighbor enough to make her run inside this morning.

We have to laugh at ourselves as we age guys. What’s the point of being depressed about it.  Instead of being angry I get tickled. And apparently my joy is a horrific thing to an outsider looking in

I have insomnia.  I’ll be up for days on end and then come crashing down, sick as a dog. .

I and two of my children have ADHD but the medications for that make us so sleepy we can’t function. Adderall will have my daughter knocked out and drooling in an hour. It was the only medication ever perscribed to her that actually did what it was supposed to do, but I rarely gave it to her because I couldn’t keep her awake for class.  When I was younger, 2 or 4 hours sleep was enough to rejuvenate my brain for another day or two.  After 40 it’s become a thing I am pretty sure is killing me.

I have no appetite at all, just this awesome energy that makes me SUPER creative.  The stuff that comes out of that wakefulness brain acts like a bull who has sat around for months waiting to burst from the gates of my brain.

I write.  I come up with marketing ideas for my company that always work out brilliantly. I write thesis statement after thesis statement on economy, education, tax reformation, prison and parole reformation, taking prison industry jobs and giving them back to the american tax paying citizen and using those prisoner hours to actually teach them what their responsibility is to be a free citizen and then give them the tools to follow through.

The art that comes out during that time is a fleeting thing. I can try to be available to it and reap the benefits of giving it a medium or it will be gone and I will only have faint shadows of the ideas that just yesterday were so powerful. It’s happening as I write. My vocabulary is dumbing down. Oh well. It was fun. I’ll have to go back and read all that I posted in the past three days I’ve been awake and see what an ass I’ve made of myself.

Back to the story of scaring the neighbor

After a  4 day wakefulness period when I crash and finally wake up I can barely breathe because of coughing. It feels like the insides of my lungs are dry as a desert and every little inhale leads to coughing fits.  I can barely walk or hold my chopsticks because of the muscle tremors. My eyeballs do this weird thing where they move back and forth ever so slightly so its hard to focus. That’s what happened this morning

I finally crashed around 5 am from what I think was a 4 day wakefulness period. Today I slept from 5 to a little after 11. I did NOT want to wake up but I am supposed to have a date tonight for the first time in months.

I got up to walk the dog. I made a quick cup of coffee and threw on a coat, coughing my brains out all the way. We get outside and the neighbor across the street is sitting on her front porch talking on the phone. I raise my cup to her and say Good Morning!  I tell the dog to hurry go Potty. I’m freezing.

I take a sip of coffee forgetting to be careful inhaling and it leads me into a coughing fit in which I double over, the coffee spewing out of my mouth. The neighbor thinks I’m puking. I just cough and cough and my glasses fell off my face and landed in the coffee. The lady across the street thinks my glasses just fell in puke. She watches me pick them up and put them back on my face. I hear “Oh my GAWD” She jumps up and runs inside. This is the best day ever. That shit was AWESOME!   I am standing in my NIGHTGOWN, with flip-flops on, and a very expensive cream leather jacket with a fox fur-lined hood, hot pink hair standing all over my head in fucking December in the front yard in the heart of the hood, frightening the neighbors. If you’d seen where I was standing in December two years ago you wouldnt believe it was the same person.

I laugh which throws me into another coughing fit. The dog stares at me indifferently as she takes a shit.

I’ve only been blogging for about two weeks I think, but it feels really good to have some unknown someone to share these precious moments with.

I canceled the date because this one is going to take me at least 2 days to recover from. He’s going to be coming here. We are going to watch Malificient because I’ve been anxious to see it. I told him under no circumstances under the sun am I going to have sex with him and to prove my point I am not going to shave. It’s a Sampson thing. ROFLMFAOslappingtheground  As long as it is there I am protected and strong. Once it comes off I am subject to the idiocy of my estrogen clock telling my brain to spit out another baby before it’s too late. Our brains have no idea we had our tubes cut tied and burned. It just knows it wants dick NOW so it can have a baby to nurse “NOW hurry hurry hurry, you dried up old bat, there’s not much time left!” That’s what my bio clock tells me.

I crack myself up this morning.

I gotta get off this confessional box and clean the house. A real human is coming over. I’m gong to let him in the front door and am not even going  to make him beg.


There’s a woman I don’t know in my living room. It’s 12:06 am.

I’m exhausted from grooming all day. I’ve got 4 boarding dogs here also, which added extra activity to the day.

All week I’ve looked forward to my last grooming dog going home tonight so I could start cleaning. It’s been a super busy week so I’ve been unable to clean other than to just shop vac hair up and keep going. There is dog food everywhere from the dogs kicking their bowls over in their kennels. I need to do two sinks full of dishes. I need to clean the toilet and swiffer the entire bathroom free of dog hair which is in the cracks of the walls, on the light fixtures, etc. I was looking forward to doing all this and then taking a wonderful shower in my clean tub free of dog hair. And then someone knocked on my door at 9pm tonight about 10 minutes after my last grooming dog went home.

The guy next door asked a girl to come over but he was not home when she got there. She’s from another county about an hour away. She has no car and no phone. She paid her last 10 bucks to have someone bring her out here. It’s raining, and the neighbor is not home. She asked to use my phone to call him. I’ve met her once before so I decided to let her in. She called him and texted him and about an hour later he responded. He’s at a party high off his ass and is making no sense.

She’s upset and she’s crying and finally I calm her down. I tell her everything happens for a reason and sometimes our higher self intervenes and prevents us from being in a place where something might happen. She is rational now, yet obsessed with why he did what he did, what is he going to do now, when is he going to get someone to bring him back, how can she get a ride to where he is at…thank god my son has my car.

The guy next door is a jerk. That is an understatement. He’s a fucking asshole who beats dogs. I’ve been over at his place in the last three days doing reiki on his Pitt Bull and administering doses of tart cherry juice. The dog tore through the door screen and ran after someone walking up the street so my neighbor caught him and apparently held him down and punched him so hard in his back hip that it tore the muscle. The rear thigh muscle is so swollen and tender the dog can barely walk. Today his ankle swole up as well. He doesn’t have money to take the dog to the vet. The dog is mean and needs training but no matter what advice I give the guy he doesn’t take it, he just takes my free reiki and holistic medicine. This guy is the type of guy that makes a killer out of a puppy. Poor dog. The day I went over there to check him out for broken bones the dog  was growling at me and showing a bit of fang. I claimed his territory by staring him down and slowly backing him into the corner, then stood there talking calmly to his owner about the ‘accident’. Finally I was able to squat down next to the dog. His tail started wagging. After about 20 minutes I had checked him over and got him to open his big jaws for me to squirt a medicine dropper of tart cherry juice down his gullet and that’s all I could do. I left feeling helpless. I can’t call the cops or the pound because the dog is fear aggressive and once he bites he will be put down. Maybe it’s for the best? It’s not my call.

I worry for this girl. She is angry the guy isn’t here. I find a gentle way to suggest she may want to calm down before she talks to him because she does not know the circumstances of why he got stuck at that party. I can’t tell her I’m afraid he may hit her if she gets demanding and loud due to him letting her down. I can’t tell her that his punch is so hard it ripped the thick powerful muscle of a PittBull and I’m afraid of what that punch could do to her face. I can’t tell her that I can’t get involved in domestic situations because it hits too close to home. All I could do was ask her if she was hungry. She was. Desperately. I told her I all I had ready was Kimchi and rice and she said she did not know what that was but it sounded awesome. So I fed her, and she loved it. We had sliced Asian Pear and she took a picture of it with her phone for some reason. She told me alot about her life. Her mother killed herself when the girl was 17 and her life has been a downward spiral since then. She’s 21 and does not know what she is going to do. I tell her I did not start my life until I was 30 and she can do anything she wants to do.  I don’t have cable but I put on “The Host” DVD and came in here to smoke a cigarette and gather myself.

I want to take a shower and clean my house. I want to get naked and look at the library in Oyster. I want to write my daughter and pre address 10 envelopes so I’ll have them ready to rush the letters out to the mailbox. But I’m in here with this girl, and for whatever reason, I know in my heart this is where both of us are supposed to be.


The older I get the more I am approached by men under 30. What’s up with that? I don’t mean occasionally either, I mean almost every time I leave the house and daily on my social media.

I tried the cougar thing this past year. I thought I could get out some pent up depression by fucking it away. My daughter had been admitted to a residential facility and the quiet of the house was deafening. I was so depressed and full of angst. I just wanted something to make me not think so I wouldnt resort to drinking. I didn’t realize the serial dating was just as self harming as drinking. I just wanted a quick fix, and being 42 and half ass cute on ok cupid is a quick fix.  So I created a profile. It didn’t turn out as expected. 95% of the responders were from 18 to 29. At first this was a thrill. Every single one of them were so hot and the type that wouldn’t look my way when I was younger. Now here I am in my 40’s and they are literally vying for my attention. I picked a few who were college educated and seemed half ass worth the time. The young men became attached and needy, something I had no energy for. I can not plan a future with someone 20 years my junior. They each thought they wanted to be with me forever but 5 years from now I will look like their grandmother. They cant grasp that concept. I’d stop seeing one for this reason and the next would have the same issues. Mommy issues, I come to find out.

I’ve had to explain what those blue streaks on my legs were. (Broken veins)

I’ve had to explain why I can’t wrestle over 10 minutes. It freaking hurts. I hurt for days after. My body is 20 years older than you dude, wait until you are this age and I hope you remember how you teased me.

I’ve had to explain why when I’m on top for over 20 minutes I can’t just hop up because my knees won’t let me.

I find myself lecturing them like a mother and receiving crazy looks like my boys give me and it creeps me out. “You walked off a job without having another lined up and now you can’t find work. Look in the mirror at who’s to blame.” I’ll say. Or, ” Uber is hiring drivers.” and hearing from them that it’s just not their thing. What’s not your thing? Having to rely on yourself instead of your parents to pay your car payment? I can’t relate to today’s young adult mentality. You work where you have to work until you find something you want to do. You should stop receiving money from your parents the day you move out of their house. You should not drink energy drinks. You should not be eating that fast food it’s draining your IQ. Use a damn wash cloth when you bathe your skin needs exfoliation. Brush your teeth before you go to bed for god’s sake. Your legs are ashy put some lotion on. No you can not have one of my cigarettes they are bad for you. Do you want to wake up hacking like I do?  You are not 21 yet no I will not buy you beer. In fact, you are not old enough to drink. Why are you even in my bed? Get up. This is crazy. HAVE YOUR BABY? Are you out of your mind?

I lecture all the time. And the more I lecture, the more they love it. The more they text me, need me, want to see me, want to hear my voice. It’s crazy and it’s creepy. One started calling me Mom on his text messages. Screw that! I’ve indulged all kinds of fetishes in my day, and incest never was nor ever will be one of them. I never seen him again after that. And he was the one who broke me of my Cougar ways. I woke up the week after my 43 birthday this past September and was filled with immense shame. I immediately broke it off with the guy who was supposed to be a one night stand but ended up being (LITERALLY) an every day thing for two months. I told him to come get his toothbrush and his Playstation Games. He refused and said I’d change my mind. I didn’t.

It’s fun to hang out, roll in the hay, and play video games afterwards, but then I am ready for them to leave. Just go home honey. I want to take my makeup and the persona off. I want to kick back and read a book that will probably be far above your head and my inability to have a conversation with you about it will make me never want to see you naked again. So just go. I need a man in my life. A mature man who knows what overtime is. A man who every blue moon is too tired to fuck and just wants me to kiss him all over and rub warm oil on his aging bones.  A man who has a past to share with me.

This week every single guy I dated during the cougar year has contacted me wanting to see me. Christmas must have brought out something in them. I guess boys want to be with their mothers during the holidays.


I got hurt on the job last week and had to go to the hospital for xrays. I was in the waiting room forever, people dying from the Plague all around me. On my left was a woman who kept jumping up to run to the bathroom. On my right was a full-grown man lying in his wife’s lap moaning and groaning, face beet red. The panic rose in my throat until I finally left, totally freaked out. A few hours later the hospital calls me to see why I left. When I told her I didn’t want to catch the plague waiting for an xray she laughed her butt off. I can’t imagine how people who work in hospitals stay healthy. Anyway she talked me into coming in the following morning to make sure there was no organ damage and to get some steroids at least.

Fears love to manifest themselves. I caught the Plague.

Here it is, the single most profitable week other than Easter in the grooming industry, and I am having to cancel appointments. Some of my clients were rude as hell and demanded to know when I’d be back to work. Some were thankful I was not going to spread the Holiday cheer by giving my bug to them. In both cases I’d hang the phone up totally humiliated. Due to my low expenditures I can afford this but the shame of leaving people with their dog looking like a Komondor for their family and friends to tsk tsk tsk at is weighing heavy on me. Between the money loss and the shame I am bummed. I also feel like someone snuck in my house and kicked me with steel toed boots on.

Thank God for True Vitality protein Mix. When all else fails, drink up. Tastes like grass and sand but at least it has all the vitamins and minerals I need to keep my immune system functioning well enough to fight off this bug since I have no appetite.  Once you get past the taste, you feel better after drinking it.


I don’t really care that it’s Christmas. Holidays are not a big deal to me and I find them tedious in fact. I don’t want to sound like a Debbie Downer. I even felt uncomfortable with them when I was a kid. Despite the hell he and my mother went through my dad worked his ass off to provide. He left before dawn he got home after dark. He tried to make up for things by spoiling me rotten. I  expected my birthday and Christmas to be given things I really didn’t deserve or need at all. I specifically remember sitting down to open presents and always feeling embarrassed as whoever the giver was watched me. I carefully removed the tape and unwrapped it trying to not tear the paper just to prove some sort of point. I was nervous on how to react whether I liked the present or not. HOWEVER, I totally dug the Santa Claus thing!  I got up before dawn and there was no one there to see the way I would Tasmanian Devil through the living room ripping off paper and throwing presents to the side to open another one….when people are alone their true nature shows and I was a greedy little American kid just like all the rest. I just didn’t want anyone to witness it I guess. As an adult I still get anxiety when given presents. I have no logical explanation for this. Dont’ buy me one. And if you can’t resist, don’t wrap it.


The whole mandatory gift giving thing is so absurd. People seem to enjoy presents from me on a deeper level when I just randomly say “Hey I seen this and thought of you”. And it feels damn good to do it. I do it all the time throughout the year. When they came out with the cell phone wallet I got every woman I was close to one because I thought it was a genius idea and it would make their lives so much easier. That’s what gift giving should be. My son showed up with a McDonalds breakfast this morning because he knew I wouldn’t be able to cook. Why on earth he thought I would eat that I have no idea but I would NEVER hurt his feelings by saying so. The fact that he did it was so touching. That McDonalds bag meant more to me than anything that someone could give me at Christmas. And I don’t consume fast food. It was the thought that was the gift.


I think that spending bill money to buy heaps of presents for children that already have no space for another single useless plastic piece of shit that runs on batteries is one of the oddest things our culture practices. Buying something someone NEEDS is one thing. Trying to keep up with some quota society puts on us as parents, relatives and friends is another. Why should someone’s level of caring be based on how much you can spend? I detest Valentines day when I am with someone. They know NOT to get me anything but a card. I can think of a thousand romantic things we can do together with that money, don’t buy me chocolate. Let’s go find a private place in the woods by a stream, throw down several quilts, and make love.  That’s romance. It’s not named Russel Stover or Whitman’s.


Thanksgiving has nothing to do with presents but why we can hold our heads up while celebrating a massacre and not talk about it is to deny History. There can be a pointless back and fourth debate on why there was so much bloodshed when we arrived here and decided to plop our asses down and claim it our home. Have the debate somewhere else. The facts are Thanksgiving is an opportunity today to be with your loved ones and hog out together. Or in my opinion, to be forced to be around people you can’t stand and put all that aside for one day while you all get food poisoning together because your step mom was drunk while making the Macaroni …again. But no one wants to hurt dads feelings by not eating his wifes food. ROFL true story. Here is a link to a Native American’s blog where he gives the true history of Thanksgiving and suggests ways to present it to young people. My link button is not working.



What’s left? Easter? I categorize it with Thanksgiving. It’s one of the craziest things we expect kids to believe and they do. Kids are awesome. A magical rabbit travels the world bringing baskets of candy to hide in your house. And tomorrow you will boil eggs or buy nasty stale weird candy coated marshmallowy thingies wrapped in plastic.  You take that basket, dump it in the middle of the floor probably, and go outside and hunt the eggs your parents have hidden. You will fart sulfuric acid for two days because the boiled eggs have been through hell before they made it to your mouth. Your parents will be mad that you wont eat Easter dinner because you are not hungry after eating a massive chocolate rabbit and 10 nasty stale candy coated marshmallow thingies. You have to get dressed up in a suit but pretty much no one goes to church. You dress up just because you’re supposed to. Why? Because we are celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ.