You ever have one of those days where absolutely nothing goes right? Like… all this random crap comes out of nowhere and piles on your shoulders until all your brain can manage to do is shut down while you sit in a corner and chomp on a tube of cookie dough like it’s a perfectly roasted turkey leg. My mind does this a lot in stressful times. I want to just not deal with things that give me anxiety. It’s easier to hide in my basement in the dark binge-watching Gilmore Girls for the 100th time rather than actually, you know… live life.
Monday morning Alex and I were gifted a wall of graffiti on our car. Some young, shitty kid with terrible parents thought it would be funny to take a Sharpie to our freshly waxed Audi. Well, I’m guessing it was a kid considering one of the words this little prick wrote was “lamo.” I’m assuming he meant ‘lame-o,’ but… education has obviously failed this little bastard. Other words he wrote: “die, bitch, fuck you, stupid, haha, you suck.” We are dealing with a genius here, guys. Honestly, I figured it was an isolated incident so we spent a few hours trying to wash it off and called it a day. Until we woke up Tuesday morning and it was there again so we figured it was time to get the police involved.
There is no doubt in my mind that this is the work of the Neighbor Boy I’ve blogged about multiple times. You know, the kid whose bike I borrowed, and whose balls I kicked in when he walked right into my front door with no warning. I’ve also made him fall into a nice hot puddle full of dog poop I awkwardly borrowed from my neighbor when he wouldn’t stop jumping our fence and trampling the flowers. We have a sordid past, but this is the first time it’s gone criminal. We live in one of the safest towns in America, yet we had to install multiple home surveillance cameras to try and catch this shithead in the act. I was hoping to take it to his parents if we get the video, but Alex wants to instantly turn it over to police and put it on his record.
The saga continues. This time I’ll give a point to Neighbor Boy. Subject to change whether we catch him on camera or not. If I can get the cops to scare the ever-loving shit out of him, I’ll award myself an extra point. #TeamBlair (Yes, I just hashtagged in the middle of a blog post.)
(Also, sorry if I missed/was super late responding to your comments on my last blog. Alex and I went to the mountains for a week, then when we got back we’ve been in a constant shitstorm of vandalizing and our cat had some medical issues that needed immediate attention. I still love you. I promise. *Wipes tear.*)
Neighbor Boy: 1
(Links to previous posts are below! Also in the middle of the post, but it’s a lot nicer looking down here.)
help yourself to some tasty poop water (3/19/2016)
aim for the goods (5/18/2016)
i’m a petty thief (4/28/2017)
I’ve always lived by the idea that humor can turn the shittiest of situations around. Obviously it can’t cure extreme circumstances like cancer, but at least it can lighten a mood even if for a few minutes. It’s helped me get out of some dark times so I try to keep my blog posts along these guidelines to keep the train moving in a positive direction. My last post strayed from the ‘course’ and this one will stray a bit too.
I knew I’d regret it almost instantly after publishing my last post about being overwhelmed by the prospect of voting this year. It’s the first time I’ve actually considered deleting a post but decided against it. While the majority of people who commented were intensely passionate, thank you for not going all bat-shit-crazy on me. A lot of your comments made me realize the error of my ways and I will be registering to vote. I appreciate your long and thoughtful responses and your opinions. But there is no way in goddamn fucking hell, I will ever stand by and smile at personal threats and attacks.
I’ve received multiple emails and have read multiple posts people have made on their own blog as a response to mine. Some have called me a ‘retard.’ Some say I’m a piece of shit. Some tell me they wished I would die. Some tell me being overwhelmed by the candidates this year is like being a kindergartner having a temper-tantrum. You guys could have just had a conversation with me like an adult and kept it classy. What the fuck? I actually respected a few of these people as writers. Sad. If, from now on, you have something to say to me and you want me to actually give a shit about your opinion, all you have to do is be kind. Common sense, people. It’s really not that fucking hard. I mean, seriously, how can you expect people to actually respect your opinion when you attack and insult them?
Anyways, this will be my last serious post. Back to humor from now on. Thanks to everyone for coming along on this terrible off-the-tracks train ride. The majority of you are cool as hell.
I think I’ve finally found a reason to like Facebook. Which is weird, considering it normally pisses me off more than having a front wedgie I can’t dig down and fix in public (you know what I mean, ladies.) I must have done something right yesterday, because I was gifted by the social media gods when my friend ‘liked’ something and it showed up in my news feed. It was a post by the most popular guy in my high school a decade ago. Let’s just say – his life didn’t turn out too pretty. (From now on, I’ll refer to him as VD, which I’m sure he has contracted multiple times by now.)
I wasn’t popular in high school. (I know — not very shocking, right?) Not that I was one of those 18-year-olds that hid in the corner picking their nose with a Spongebob trapper-keeper clutched to my chest or anything – I hovered somewhere in the middle. I kind of just existed. Overshadowed by my two closest friends who were deemed ‘the hottest girls in the school.’ Yep. I was the token ugly friend. And once my brother graduated and wasn’t there to scare VD anymore – he never let me forget it. I was a force invite to things just because of them and nobody wanted me there. VD made a point to remind me of it daily.
So, when his post popped up, and I was able to go to his profile, it was glorious. I don’t want to be too cruel, here, so I’m just going to say it looks like he got the shit kicked out of him by life. He had a picture posted of his friends surrounding him in a bar, each one much more attractive. He was the ugly friend. He got demoted to the DUFF. How blissfully ironic. Karma’s a bitch, VD.
Thanks, Life. I owe you one.
(I actually debated even posting this because it might make me sound like a bitch. I don’t ever judge people on appearance and despise people that do. But that’s what he did to me and it caused a lot of anxiety when I was young. So fuck it. And fuck him.)
Cats are assholes. There’s no way around this statement — it’s the honest truth. Sure, they are soft, cute, have the most viewed videos on YouTube and have entire websites dedicated to funny pictures of them with captions. (shoutout lolcats) But don’t be fooled!
There are many perks of having a cat. It’s all about how you look at it.
1. They can help reduce your carbon footprint by replacing your alarm clock. You’ll be woken up every morning by a cold wet nose being shoved right into your eyelid. If you’re lucky — claws may also be involved. Cock-a-doodle-doo!
2. Save time by not washing your face at night. It won’t be worth it — your cats will take it upon themselves to walk all over your pillows with dirty litter paws. Plus, this is the best place for your cat to kick a leg up and do it’s nightly tongue cleaning. Pink Eye alert!
3. Used to being totally repulsed by finding hair in your food? All over your clothes? Stuck between your toes? In your bellybutton? Get used to it. It’ll be the norm now. Start saving it up and one day you’ll have a cruelty-free fur coat.
4. Love getting massages? Good thing you have a cat. You’ll get free nightly ones. It may be when you’re in a dead sleep, and it may not be anywhere near your muscles. But your cat will do it’s best to help knead your stomach, butt, face and anywhere else that’s umcomfortable. Bonus – very sharp claws will be involved.
5. Have you ever had the urge to vent your feelings and have someone listen without passing judgment? Vent to your cat — they most likely hate you and will ingore everything so there’s no loss there.
In all reality, I love my cat. I think her “don’t give a shit” attitude is what makes me a cat-lover. We have a lot in common and I’m convinced she’s my spirit animal.