adventures in awkward

Over the weekend I was accosted by a surly unibrowed woman in Target over a Tickle Me Elmo.  It was like being transported back to the time when Backstreet Boys ruled the airwaves and having big hair was actually fashionable rather than just being a surefire way to pick out the Carol of the group. (You know Carol. She’s the annoying one everyone invites to be nice, but no one really likes her.) Poor Carol. Poor poor Carol.

There I was mid sentence, explaining to my 11-year-old niece how Elmo drove people batshit crazy in the 90s, and this woman walks up. She was mad that I clicked the ‘try it now’ button which sent Elmo into a roaring laughter. (Which, I have to say, is really goddamn obnoxious to be honest. He sounds like a monkey getting his rectum finger popped. Not that I’ve ever heard that – just assuming.) She pointed her finger in my face and told me that I was the sole reason her migraine was getting worse, and that I was too old to be playing with toys and being loud in public…… What?

This woman left her house on a Saturday, went to one of the busiest stores in town to walk her grumpy ass through the kid’s section full of toys…  all while she apparently had an excruciating migraine. Yet it’s my fault her migraine is getting worse.  Do people not have common sense anymore? Has fast food caused people brains to shrivel up to the size of a raisin? What is going on in this world?

PS – I’m 100% the Carol of my group. Don’t feel bad, fellow weirdos and awkward folk. You’re in good company.

 

adventures in awkward

I wish depression was tangible so I could go all Lizzie Borden on its ass and swing an ax in its face 40 times. That’d be fair, right? Something has to be done because it’s not like it’s doing me any favors or anything. I’ve been hiding lately because, well… my brain has been in timeout. I should be back functioning and writing more often soon. There really needs to be a pause button on racing thoughts/doubt/paranoia/crazyshit so they aren’t constantly flooding our heads. All I need is a break. Is that too much to ask?

bringiton

Alex and I are desperately counting down the days until we are able to leave for vacation. This weekend we are going to the mountains to hike/find waterfalls and stay in a resort in western North Carolina. At the end of June, we will meet up with my family and stay in the Outer Banks at a beach house for a week. We are so close, yet so far. In the meantime, I found this hilarious list on Reddit about real reviews of vacations people went on. Sometimes the stupidity of people is the best way to brighten your day. They are a good reminder that, hey… at least you don’t live life with your thumb in your ass and no common sense.

Here we go…

“They should not allow topless sunbathing on the beach. It was very distracting for my husband who just wanted to relax.”  (Are you married to a toddler?  Surprisingly, people have the ability to control what they look at! Crazy, isn’t it?)

“The beach was too sandy. We had to clean everything when we returned to our room.”  

“No one told us there’d be fish in the water. The children were scared.” (Stop raising pussies. They don’t contribute much to society.)

(Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just kidding.)

buzzlife
“Although the brochure said that there was a fully equipped kitchen, there was no egg-slicer in the drawers.” (It’s called a knife in most countries, dipshit.)

“I think it should be explained in the brochure that the local convenience store does not sell proper biscuits like custard cremes or ginger nuts.” (What the hell are these things? I’ve never heard of them!)

“It took us nine hours to fly home from Jamaica to England. It took the Americans only three hours to get home. This seems unfair.”

“When we were in Spain, there were too many Spanish people there. The receptionist spoke Spanish, the food was Spanish. No one told us that there would be so many foreigners.”

“It is your duty as a tour operator to advise us of noisy or unruly guests before we travel.”  (Did you want the operator to change your Depends for you too?)

“I was bitten by a mosquito. The brochure didn’t mention mosquitoes.”

We are surrounded by geniuses, folks. Be scared.

Do you have any plans for relaxing this summer? Vacations? Staycations? Laying around on the couch like a vegetable while you stuff yourself full of ice cream and margaritas?

rambles

Am I the only one that gets seriously annoyed when they are corrected by random people online? I’m talking about the grammar police in all their unholy glory. Here in the “blogiverse,” (that word chaps my ass a little) it seems like everyone and their mother has an English degree and likes to shove it in the face of unsuspecting writers when they spot a mistake. What’s with that? Don’t you guys have something better to do with your time? Why leave a random comment that has nothing to do with a blog post solely to correct someone you don’t know? Am I missing something here?

smellycolons

Usually the amazing lessons from the self-appointed grammar police begin like:

“I think you meant to say…”
“Not to be rude, but…”
“My mom thinks I’m special and smart, it would be a shame not to share my knowledge…”
“I won my 8th grade spelling bee, so I’ve got the credentials to correct you…”
“I don’t get enough attention in real life, so I feel the need to make strangers feel belittled.”

News flash: nobody likes a know-it-all. You guys really are the bursting ass pimples of the internet.

/end rant.

seizuresalad

Also, I totally get annoyed by terrible grammar and spelling, so I’m not completely exempt in all of this. It’s the people that go out of their way to correct it is what drives me nuts. It always seems like people do it just to pat themselves on the back for being smart.

rambles

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. 

wtfman

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. 

rambles

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!

toxicpeople

(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.)

rambles

While I was reaching for some of my prized Chobani yogurt in the grocery store the other day, a random man grabbed my ass. Believe me when I say – it took all of the willpower I could muster to refrain from turning around and crushing his balls so hard they looked like deflated tomatoes with their guts oozing out. What a prick, right? I looked for Alex to defend my honor but he wandered off and had been lost in the beer aisle at that point. Damn it!

tomatoballs

I’m not sure why anyone would think touching a random person would be a great start to any sort of ‘relationship.’ Especially when one person was wearing a blatantly obvious wedding ring (as I was!) Did he expect me to just escort him to the bathroom and drop my panties for him? Or that we would start a long-lasting and loving relationship from some unwelcome groping? I mean, seriously…has any woman (or man, really) ever had a positive response to something like this? Where the fuck do people get the nerve to grab people?! So many questions, so little answers. 

People, it is never okay to touch a stranger. Don’t grab their ass. Don’t grab their arm. Don’t even poke them. Not. Okay. You copy? Just don’t. ‘Hey, Chobani kicks ass, so you must too’ is a much better ice breaker. Plus, your balls will have a much better chance of making it through the shopping trip without being harmed.

rambles, things that matter

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.

fuckyoutoo

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.

guest posts

It seems like the caliber of friends I’ve met through blogging is a lot higher than the friends I have in person. That’s the best part of blogging, really – the people. All my friends want to talk about in person is their marriage, kids, work, or how long it took their mother to shovel all the boringdrinkersnow off her balcony in Maine so Fido can get out to poop in case it’s urgent. Blah blah blah blah blah. Enough is enough already! For the love of God – no more. I’d rather hang out with the majority of fellow bloggers I’ve talked to over my friends in person. Crazy, right? (Hey… I’ve given y’all fair warning that I’m weird.)

Well, I’m finally getting back to sharing guest posts that I’ve been slacking on lately. And, don’t worry – this blogger is a lot funnier than my friends in real life. So, you’re welcome. Make sure you’re you visit Lady Dickson on her blog. She is piss-your-pants-funny. Or diaper. Don’t worry… this is a judgment-free zone so we embrace all differences.

Let’s get on with it then:


 

In 2013, my husband and I went on a 6 month tour of Europe. On our stop in Portugal, we decided “hey, let’s go to Morocco since it’s right there” and off to Morocco we did. Gotta love last minute decisions like that. Here’s the thing, I’ve been to third world. I went to Thailand in 2008 and it was a friggin blast. But this seemed like a completely different kind of third world. Whilst in Thailand, I could use the public bathrooms whenever I wanted without paying. Coming over to Morocco, and a lot of Europe I might add, I had to start paying to urinate.

What the fuck is this nonsense. I ate your food, I drank your water, I paid my bill, and now you want me to pay to extract all dis bidniz you supplied out of my body? That shit cray.

Naturally, as I am not used to doing so, I forget to bring my change purse with me to the bathroom of this one rooftop restaurant located in the centre of Marrakesh. Thankfully, there was no one on guard to give money to so I figured this was a rare free washroom. SCORE. I know where I’m coming from now on to drop trou.

During my healthy dump, I hear a woman screaming at someone in Arabic and think “oh man, I would hate to get yelled at in a language I don’t know.” Turns out, she was yelling at me but I was completely clueless of it. The second I stepped out of the stall, she was all up in my grill pointing at her dish beside the door. Naturally, I looked like a deer caught in headlights and threw my hands in air and kept repeating “I don’t know what you’re saying…” Obviously, I needed to leave some money in the dish beside the door.

MY BAD.

Now I had to somehow tell her I don’t have money on me.

Me: I don’t have any money on me.
Woman yelling in Arabic.
Me: I don’t….have any…money on me. *flipping my pockets inside out*
Woman yelling in Arabic.
Me: Not…sure where to go from here.

So I just try to leave but she barricades herself against the door. Perfect, this is going well. I just fold my arms, look at her, and tap my foot on the ground. With how long this is taking, my husband must be thinking I am murdering this toilet.

Finally, I had enough of this. I started screaming my husbands name in a zero percent passionate way. I mean, this was not the womans fault. Some white chick who doesn’t know how to follow the rules popped a squat all willy nilly and girlfriend needs to get PAID. I was willing to pay her, I JUST NEEDED MY GODDAMN COIN PURSE.

After screaming my husbands name for about a minute, she finally gives in. She moves out of the way and lets me out of the bathroom. As I’m leaving, she starts yelling at me again and I just sprint up the stairs to the roof, grab my husband and we gone.

My coin purse never left my side after that..

ladydicksonRight before the hostage shituation.