Apparently, the muse has taken a road trip and forgotten to take me along. I mind as well bang my head against a wall, because it’s about as useless as trying to randomly think up something to write. I’ve gotten some great suggestions including a feature on my upcoming vacation to NYC. That is something I will definitely work on…when I’m actually in NYC. But for now…I’m just the girl without a dragon tattoo and without anything interesting to say.
So here are my randoms:
If you are 16, I don’t want to know about your sexual exploits. Hell, if you’re 30, I’m not interested. But 16…well, that shit just sounds creepy. I was 16 and I did my dirt. But I wasn’t putting myself on blast either.
If you know I don’t like you – don’t make it your mission to make me like you. That will, in turn, make me like you even less. My friendship is not a trophy – not something to be won. It either happens, or it doesn’t. In this case, it won’t. So put the checklist away because nothing about that is genuine. And therefore – friendship is not an option.
I hate the fact that when I write something out, it never sounds as funny as when I say it. Maybe it’s my facial expressions, my emphasis on certain words…I don’t know. But I find that when I write something…it’s flat. But when I tell the exact same thing to someone…they crack up. WTF.
Garbage disposals are not strainers. WTF is this one leaking? Seriously…I mean, come on. I’m definitely on someones shit list.
Gay people are not handbags. You can’t take them to every fun event because they look good on your arm. I’m just saying.
My son is on the “I’m going to pull my diaper down” kick. This is great. Almost time for potty-training. Except when he’s shit in his diaper. Then, it’s not so great. It’s shit on my carpet and that is just not cool. That’s…well…shitty. They need a cleaner called shit-be-gone. I would buy it.
Can someone start a website called Beautiful On A Budget. And by budget, I DO NOT mean 100 bucks for jeans and 50 bucks for a shirt. I mean, momma got bills to pay and a mouth to feed and really wants to still look cute despite only having 30 bucks to my name. If it exists…um…let me know. I can manage being poor, hell, I’ve done it my whole life. I’m just tired of looking the part.
FYI: Half ass compliments are worse than no compliment at all. See the above random. Thank you.
I know I’ve said this before but I can’t say it enough: Little girls who shop at Victoria Secret creep me out! It’s gross, it’s weird, it’s wrong. You don’t even have hair on your body..not because you naired it, waxed it, bicced it…because it hasn’t grown in yet. STOP IT!
People who say I have it easy because I have a boy. Um…no. I have it just as hard. I have to do double duty to teach my son not to fall for the girls in the above random. I’ve got to train him to pay attention to the things those girls parents chose to ignore.
That’s it. For now.