#I don’t want rainbow bullshit I want healthcare
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Fun idea for pride month: corporations pay their workers adequate cost of living wages all year every year for eternity
#I don’t want rainbow bullshit I want healthcare#bisexual#demisexual#demiromantic#agender#non bianry#trans pride#transfem#aroace#greysexual#genderfluid#genderflux#demifluid#demiflux#pride month#adhd autistic#lgbtq#queer#fuck capitalism#cost of living#dystopia#dystopian hell
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treat people with kindness. except republicans.
It’s the strangest thing.
I keep seeing these weird calls to people on the left to be empathetic and to not be rude to Republicans.
And I’d like to bring to the stand my counter argument.
*presses lips directly against the microphone*
Fuck your calls for us to be “nice”.
Fuck your calls for “we can be happy but we shouldn’t be mean.”
Fuck your ideology of “be nice to a republican today because we know how they’re feeling today back in 2016.”
Fuck your “you’re no better than them by being obnoxious” because...I’ve never locked a child in a cage or actively worked to take rights away from minorities so I can safely say I am better than all Republicans!!!!
Are you fucking kidding me with this?
I’m not waiting a goddamn second to take the chance to dunk on every Trump supporter, every Republican and Trump himself. I’m rejoicing in their sorrow today, tomorrow and when Trump dies??
Party at my place. You’re all invited.
These absolute monsters didn’t wait a goddamn second to start committing hate crimes and to push their ass backwards, disgusting White Nationalist agenda so I’m not waiting a fucking SECOND to let Republicans, the same heartless monsters who would rather see BIPOC, LGBTQ+ and women dead than they would see us have rights, have time to mourn.
I’m MAD.
I’m PISSED.
And I’m fucking ready to make Republicans scared again
Because do you know what being mean has gotten Republicans?
EVERYTHING.
It got them the highest seat of power in the whole country!
It got them the House, the Senate and the ability to stack the highest court in the land with rapists and women who are so unbelievably under qualified for the position it’s making me believe that I can be the next CEO of Apple just because I can operate an iPhone faster than my 80 year old grandma.
It got them the ability to push their own fucked agenda through.
It got them the ability to block any sort of remotely progressive legislature.
I’m so goddamn sick of seeing Moderates and Democrats saying “don’t be mean”, “lead with empathy” and I will never forgive Michelle Obama for that fucking “when they go low, we go high” quote because for me, that was the final hall pass for Democrats to be spineless, to not fight back, for them to roll over and play dead but with a rainbow flag emoji.
Do you want to know how to lead with empathy? How to fight back against this uprising of White Nationalist Bullshit?
It’s to go low.
It’s to hit them where it hurts and to not put up with their shit anymore.
It’s to get mad and to use that anger to make your voice heard and to disrupt society so we can make it a better place for Black people, for Indigenous people, for the Trans community, for the LGBTQ+ community, for women.
That’s what leading with empathy is about. That’s being kind.
You want me to be nice to a Republican? Like, for as little as one dollar a day I can sponsor a Republican while they weep into their MAGA hat that they can’t be openly racist, sexist and terrible?
I think I’ll hold onto that dollar then, thanks for the suggestion though!!!!
I’m going to be mean but I’m going to be mean so we can get some good out of these next four years and however long we’ve got left on this Earth.
I’m going to be mean so people can get a livable wage.
I’m going to be mean so people don’t have to worry that their rights will be in jeopardy every four years.
I’m going to be mean so Black people don’t keep getting shot by the cops.
I’m going to be mean so universal healthcare will be implemented in this country.
I’m going to be mean so we can FINALLY fucking take climate change seriously and make big changes to save this goddamn planet that I’ve become so attached to.
I’m going to be mean so we can wipe out student dept. (Looking at u, Liz Warren. You’re my boo.)
I’m going to be mean so we can actually advance as a society and we don’t have old chuckle fucks scratching their balls and wondering, “do women deserve rights?”
And I will be mean to Republicans all damn day and I will relish in it because they’ve been nothing but mean to us for years and I’m done rolling over and playing dead.
I’m mad and I’m angry and I’m using that to fuel my fire and to keep fighting for systematic change.
So.
Shove your weird ass calls to be nice.
I’m gonna be mean.
Because it seems that’s how shit gets done in this country.
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A little coffee with your sugar? part 1/2
Here is a Harringrove Coffee shop AU. I hope you’ll enjoy :)
Read on AO3
As the only baker of the Upside-Down Café, Billy usually kept to the kitchen. And he liked it that way. So, when Heather barged into his sanctuary, interrupting him in the process of frosting a three-layer chocolate cake to let him know she was leaving and he had to replace her behind the counter, Billy was not happy.
“Why in the world are you leaving this early?”
She always stayed until closing.
“Are you serious? I told you last week I have a dentist appointment. You said you��d be okay.”
Had he really said that? Well, that had been a big mistake.
The thing was, he had not been listening properly when Heather had told him about her appointment. He had been in the middle of decorating a batch of sugar cookies with rainbow icing (because he was gay and did what he wanted), which was the kind of delicate work he had to focus extra hard on. He had trouble controlling his strength, sometimes, and that could lead to accidents. So, when he’d registered Heather had finished talking and was waiting for a reply, he had nodded and said “okay” without knowing what he was agreeing to. He could have asked her to repeat, but it got on her nerves when he did that. According to her, he was doing it a bit too often. It wasn’t his fault she always tried to make conversation when he had to focus on a complicated task. Come to think of it, maybe she was doing that on purpose to get whatever she wanted from him. Billy wouldn’t put it past her: she was devious enough to come up with such a tactic.
“Okay… well, see you tomorrow then.” He tried to act cool and unaffected, but his dread was hard to hide.
“Oh, don’t be a drama queen. You’ll survive. Have a wonderful afternoon serving our dear customers!”
Billy groaned. She was really laying it on thick.
“I wish you have cavities.” He said meanly.
Heather laughed, showing perfect white teeth that could have starred in a toothpaste commercial. The audacity! Why was she even going to the dentist?
Billy took his time finishing the frosting after Heather’s departure. Tuesday afternoons were slow, anyway. He had to put the last touch in a hurry, though, because the bell above the front door chimed, indicating the arrival of a customer.
Billy exited the kitchen with the cake, so he could put it on display before taking the customer’s order. He had to multitask now that Heather had mercilessly abandoned him. Traitor.
“Hi, welcome to the Upside-Down Café, what can I do for you?” He asked dispassionately, not even looking at the person on the other side on the counter.
He could lay on the charm as well as the next guy, but at the moment his whole attention was on the triple layer cake he was trying to squeeze between the apple pie and the cinnamon rolls displayed behind the glass case.
“Well I do feel properly welcomed, Hargrove. You might even want tone the enthusiasm down a bit. Wouldn’t want you to come off as overeager.”
The sarcasm was nearly palpable. It didn’t surprise Billy, considering who was speaking.
“Buckley, fancy seeing you here.”
She rolled her eyes. It was her default move when she was around Billy. It was all for show, though. he knew she liked him, deep down.
“Heather’s not here?”
“No. Dentist appointment.”
“Oh. She didn’t tell me.” Robin pouted like a five-year old.
Ah! She wasn’t so smug anymore.
Billy would have been amused at Robin’s reaction, but the fact she hadn’t known about Heather’s appointment mainly made him suspicious. She claimed she had told Billy about the appointment the week before, but she hadn’t told her friend, whom she had a big fat crush on? Billy wasn’t buying it. Of course, telling her coworker, who’d have to cover for her, seemed more important than telling her crush she wouldn’t be seeing her, but Billy knew better. Heather was so head-over-heels for Robin it wasn’t even funny anymore. If she didn’t do something about it soon, Billy would go nuts. She was always yapping about Robin, and she was so distracted in her presence that she had once dropped a plate of cupcakes Billy had just worked his ass off to finish before the Saturday afternoon rush. She was a menace.
“Would you like to order something anyway, or?” He asked Robin.
“Yeah, sure, I’m actually waiting for a friend. I’ll take a piece of apple pie and an Earl Grey tea, please.”
Billy had already had an inkling of what she was going to order, because Heather had raved to him about Robin’s favorite food and drinks several times before, but he chose not to disclose that piece of information. He was a good friend like that.
“Coming right up.”
While he was cutting the pie, the bell chimed again.
“Oh, here’s my friend. Hey dingus!”
Billy looked up briefly and did a double take. He had to make a conscious effort to not let his jaw hang open. The man who had just come in was gorgeous, and exactly Billy’s type. He looked so pretty in his preppy knitted sweater, it nearly gave Billy heartburn.
Billy had come out of the kitchen with his dirty apron still on, and he was almost certain there was some chocolate frosting on his left cheekbone. He could feel it itching. He was cursed.
“Hey Rob.” Pretty boy hugged Robin and then turned to Billy.
His warm brown eyes widened, making him resemble a deer caught in the headlights. Billy only then realized he’d been staring at him intensely. You know, like a fucking creep.
Billy looked away and cleared his throat.
“What can I get you?” His voice sounded strained, but it would have to do.
“Er… A Mocha and a piece of chocolate cake, please.”
“Sure thing.”
Billy prepared the order, keeping his gazed fixed on the task at hand. He couldn’t look at Pretty boy, lest he make a bigger fool of himself.
He rang Robin and her friend up, and only then could he bring himself to look up… which ended up being a mistake, considering he had to watch, horrified, as Pretty boy poured a shit ton of sugar in his mocha.
“How about some coffee in your sugar?” Billy asked in a deadpan voice.
He didn’t mean to be rude. Billy was a ‘live and let live’ kind of guy, and he was more amused than offended by Pretty boy’s tastes, even if the mere thought of drinking such a concoction was enough to nauseate him. However, he couldn’t help that his tone was curt when he addressed him. First, Billy had to manage the counter without having had time to mentally prepare beforehand (yes Heather had supposedly given him a whole week to ready himself, but he hadn’t quite caught her warning so it hadn’t been of much use), and second, he was out of sorts because of how hot the guy was. The truth was that, if Billy could usually charm the pants off of anyone, he was absolutely useless when it came to men he really did find attractive. Life was a bitch, sometimes.
“Wh-what?” Pretty boy stammered.
“You’re aware mochas have a fair amount of sugar already blended in them, right?”
Billy feared he’d get diabetes just from watching Pretty boy drink this monstrous beverage. It was basically caffeinated sugar at this point.
“Yeah, and what about it?” He replied, his words sounding like a challenge, before he took a sip and then licked off the whipped cream stuck on his upper lip (‘kill me right now, why don’t you?’ Billy thought).
“Nothing. It’s just… diabetes is a serious issue and healthcare isn’t cheap in this country.”
Billy’s conversation skills had unsurprisingly flown out the window, but it was a new low. Here he was, spewing ominous bullshit and stating political facts. What next? A debate? What the fuck.
“I’m very healthy, thank you very much.”
Billy thankfully restrained from replying “for now”. Pretty boy was scowling a bit, nonetheless. Billy’s chances with him had most probably flown out the window too, right along his aforementioned skills.
Pretty boy took the tray with his and Robin’s order on it and went to one of the tables near the windows, pretty close to the register.
Robin stayed behind and stared at Billy with an arched eyebrow, making him squirm.
“Was there something else you wanted, Buckley?” He asked, just so she’d snap out of it.
“No. I’m all set. Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before turning away from Billy and joining Pretty boy at the table he had picked.
Billy then proceeded to stalk Pretty boy. He could have gone back to the kitchen, since there was no other customer, but he would have to pass up staring at such beauty, and that wouldn’t do (especially since it was the first and probably last time he got to stare at it). So, he pretended to busy himself with wiping the already immaculate counter clean, like a neat freak, while he threw glances at him.
Pretty boy still looked slightly worked up, somehow managing to make everything he did look aggressive, be it taking a sip of his mocha, putting his cup down, or stabbing the poor piece of chocolate cake with his fork.
Before he could start eating, though, Robin held his hand back. Billy then heard her advise him to cleanse his palate with a sip of her tea so the overly sugary taste of the mocha wouldn’t make the cake taste like nothing in comparison. And bless her for that piece of advice because, after Pretty boy had done as he had been told, when he finally put the first bite in his mouth, his reaction was priceless. His scowl disappeared from his face, his beautiful eyes widened again and he outright moaned.
The sound did things to Billy, and he had to bite his lower lip so he wouldn’t make a noise of his own. That would have been embarrassing, and Billy had embarrassed himself enough with his ineptitude at making conversation like a functional member of society.
When they left, Robin threw a “See ya, Hargrove” above her shoulder, and Pretty boy didn’t say anything, preferring to glare at him. He was still mad, then. Billy pouted. As soon as the door had closed behind them, he fetched a chocolate chip cookie from the display case and took a huge bite out of it. It tasted good (duh, he had baked them), but it didn’t magically dissipate his disappointment as he had hoped it would.
This day really sucked, uh?
*
The next day, Heather came to work in an overly chipper mood, unlike Billy.
“Damn, what crawled up your ass and died?”
Billy growled “nothing” while tying his apron.
“Why the long face, then?”
“I don’t see what you mean.” He mumbled, before changing the subject. “Why are you so cheerful, yourself?”
“I got tickets for this band Robin likes! They weren’t available on the band’s website, so I had to wait in line yesterday to buy them. I’m gonna ask her on a date to their concert the second she passes this door.” Heather said, gesturing to the café’s entrance.
“So, there wasn’t any dentist appointment! I knew it!”
“Yeah, sorry I lied. I didn’t want you to mention it by mistake when Robin was there, so I came up with the appointment thing. I shouldn’t have bothered, though, since you weren’t listening to me anyway. But whatever.”
So, that explained why Robin hadn’t known Heather wouldn’t come to work, even though they were texting almost constantly.
Billy was glad Heather would finally get it together and ask Robin out after months of pining. He was also jealous that she had more game than he did, but he chose to ignore that part.
“Robin will be over the moon, I’m sure. She was here yesterday. Asked for you.” Billy informed, as he was taking the ingredients out for a millionaire shortbread.
“I know, she called me in the evening to ask me how it went at the dentist’s. I felt bad about lying to her, but it was for the greater good.”
“Mmh.”
“What was that with Steve, by the way?”
Billy briefly wondered if he had missed part of the conversation again.
“Who the hell is Steve?”
“Robin’s friend? The one that was here with her yesterday.”
Oh, so Pretty boy’s name was Steve.
“Right. Steve. What about him?”
“Well, you tell me. Robin said you were acting rude, and now Steve thinks you hate him. Steve is a sweetheart, you can’t hate him. Plus, it’ll make him all sad and miserable, and then Robin will be in a bad mood because of it. So, behave!”
“Okay, so I wasn’t the nicest. I was pissed off that you had abandoned me. But I don’t hate Steve. That’s a gross overstatement. I don’t even know him.” Also, Billy thought Steve was the prettiest thing he had ever seen and was pretty certain he had a crush on him, but he certainly didn’t say THAT to Heather. He would never hear the end of it.
“Yeah well, be nicer next time he comes by. Or stay in your kitchen like the goblin you are.”
“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have some work to do?” Billy asked so she would lay off his case.
When she had finally left the kitchen, Billy thought about Steve, as he had been doing non-stop since he had met him the day before. He couldn’t believe he had already ruined everything. They had said like… four words to each other and now Steve thought Billy hated him. How had he fucked up that quickly? That must have been a record.
He groaned and poured the flour in the mixing bowl with such aggravation that he spilt about a third of it on the table. He was useless!
Billy kept dropping ingredients and kitchen tools all over the place, and bumping into everything, until Heather interrupted the disaster that was his day, asking him to manage the counter while she talked to Robin.
When he exited his cave, he was surprised to see that Steve had come with Robin again and was the next customer in line.
Billy was silently trying to come up with an apology. It couldn’t be that hard. He’d say: “Pretty Boy…” no, “Steve”… no, he wasn’t supposed to know his name… Er… “Man”. Right, Billy would say. “Man, I’m sorry about yesterday, I was in a bad mood.” And that would be all. Easy.
Billy reached the counter and opened his mouth to apologize, but Steve didn’t let him.
“Hi. I’ll take a snickerdoodle and a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and marshmallows, please and thank you.” He was staring right into Billy’s eyes when he gave his order. His own brown eyes were glinting. His left hip was cocked and his arms were crossed over his chest, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his arms.
Oh, so that was how Pretty boy was going to play it.
“No problemo.” Billy nearly cringed at how lame he was. Why was he saying stuff like that? It wasn’t even correct Spanish. He was nearly fluent in the language, so he knew that perfectly well. He sounded like a lame dad, which was not really the vibe he was going for.
Once he got his order, Steve proceeded to pour an insane amount of sugar in his hot chocolate. Billy was not surprised, but still disgusted. This was indecent.
Billy took care of the next customer, and the one after that, and the one after that. He was starting to wonder what was taking Heather so long with Robin. She was keeping her from Pretty boy, who was all alone at their table. The poor thing.
When there was a lull, Billy went to the break room and found Heather and Robin making out. Of course, they were. Billy rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt them, choosing instead to go back to the counter. Let it not be said that he was a bad friend, after that.
Steve had chosen the same table as the day before, and was facing Billy, just as he had then. At first, he wasn’t touching his drink or food, certainly waiting for Robin. A good fifteen minutes passed before he called it quits and started eating. He moaned again, not giving a fuck that he was in public (which made the noise that had just come out of Steve very inappropriate). Why was he torturing Billy like this? And he’d said to Robin that Billy hated him? Uh, uh, no sir. It had to be the other way around.
When Steve took his first sip of hot chocolate, the extra whipped cream painted his upper lip white. But, this time, he didn’t wipe it away with his tongue, and Billy so badly wanted to lick it off himself. Pretty boy would be the death of him.
When Robin and Steve left, this time, the latter wished Billy a nice day. Well, Heather was there too… so maybe it had just been addressed to her. At best, it had been for the both of them. Still, Billy would take it.
While they cleaned the shop after closing, Heather waxed poetic about Robin. That was nothing new, however. She had already been doing plenty of that in the pining stage of their relationship. Billy listened absentmindedly, with his own head full of Steve and his lush hair and his pretty lips and his eyes, which had been full of mischief earlier that day.
He only regained awareness of his surroundings when he got hit in the chest with Heather’s balled up apron.
“I’m leaving, dumbass. See you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
*
Steve came to the Upside-Down regularly, after that, with Robin but also on his own. Billy was often in the kitchen when Steve came by, so he always had to find an excuse to get behind the counter, even if only for a brief moment, in order to catch a glimpse of him.
Heather caught up pretty quickly, of course.
“You like him.”
“Uh. What? Who?”
“Steve. You like him.” She whispered.
Billy had just come out of the kitchen, in the pretense of bringing a batch of muffins to the shop. In fact, the batch had been ready for an hour, and Billy had waited for Steve to arrive (he came almost every Wednesday) to bring it out.
And now Heather was saying Billy liked him when he was sitting a few meters away.
Billy shushed her without even trying to deny her claim. He knew not to fight a losing battle.
“Don’t worry. He’s grading his pupils’ papers. He’s like… in another world.”
Steve indeed looked engrossed by the sheets that were in front of him, holding a red pen in his right hand, ready to annotate them. And, oh God, he was wearing thick black-rimmed glasses. Billy couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Jesus. You’ve got it bad!” Heather sounded delighted.
“Shut up”, Billy whined, still not denying it. The truth was what it was.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner? I would have helped you out.”
That was precisely one of the reasons why he had not told her. He didn’t need a wing-woman. Well, he did. But, he wouldn’t be caught dead asking for one.
*
He ended up with one, anyway. Now, every time Steve came by, Heather would make Billy get his order. Thankfully, Steve didn’t seem to notice the stratagem.
He must have been too occupied coming up with more and more outrageous drink choices. One day, he went as far as to ask for a white hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, marshmallows, and caramel drizzle. Billy all but gagged while making it. And Steve had the gall to add sugar. He was deranged! An honest to God maniac!
Billy was surprised Steve’s blood hadn’t yet crystalized with all the sugar he consumed.
“Anything else, pretty boy?” He asked, only noticing his slip-up when he saw Steve’s eyes get wide as saucers.
Billy couldn’t be held accountable for his mistake, alright? Steve really was pretty. Extremely pretty. Also, Billy kept calling him Pretty boy in his head ever since they had met, and he was so appalled by the drink Steve had just ordered that his brain-to-mouth filter was momentarily out of order. Sue him. He was only human.
“I… er… well… I… I’ll try today’s special. Thanks.” Steve stammered.
Everyday, Billy baked something that wasn’t usually on the menu. Today, it was a banana-chocolate cream pie.
As he put the piece of pie on Steve’s tray, Billy added:
“Here you go, sweet thing.” Because he had noticed Steve’s cheeks going beet red when he had called him pretty boy, and therefore he couldn’t help but think he might have a chance, after all.
Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times, apparently at a loss, before he thanked Billy and went to his usual table, nearly tripping on thin air on the way.
Billy was exulting, until he heard labored breathing and saw Steve struggling. What the hell was going on?
Billy went to him as fast as he could.
“Steve, what’s wrong?”
“I’m allergic to bananas.”
Oh God. Oh God, this was bad. This was so bad.
Billy took his cellphone out of his right back pocket and immediately dialed 911.
***
Thanks a lot for reading!
I’m new to the fandom so I’d be super happy for some Harringrove shippers to come talk to me (I need people to talk about these dumb boys with ^^).
#harringrove#Billy Hargrove#Steve Harrington#Harringrove fanfiction#Coffee shop AU#fluff#Billy's POV#Stranger Things#Heather Holloway#robin buckley#buckleway#as a background pairing#Baker Billy#Teacher Steve#Billy is a disaster and has a big fat crush on Steve#I might switch to Steve's POV in the second part#let me know what you think#if you want
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MUSINGS: 50 years on Earth OR My story so far...
HAPPY HATCHING DAY!!!
To everyone who keeps asking what I want for my birthday today: universal healthcare, a $25 minimum wage, a rainbow sprinkles cake, all my enemies banished to the isle of Naboombu, and $100k dollars as I am not greedy... Hell, $50k would gladly be accepted... OK, how about just $10k?!? Anyone… Bueller… Bueller… Voodoo Economics…
OK... On to the show... Ho! Haha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! THRUST!
This... THIS IS WHAT 50 LOOKS LIKE. Your results may differ. No results implied or guaranteed. Please ask your doctor is 50 is right for you. Do not use 50 for more than one year. Side effects may include some hair loss, crankiness, love of naps and a desire to tell kids to get off your damn lawn.
Seriously... Back on track... Greetings Programs...
I am now 50 years old and on the downward slippery slope to the great dirt-nap. I will not bore my readers with a summation of my past year… realistically no one really gives a gold-plated shit anyway. ;) As I sit here reading the various web-vomit buckets I read each day on the Intertubes, overflowing with information, hate, consuming merchandise, and celebrity bullshit. It hits me like a boozy hobo being struck by a 18-wheeler out of control on a wet stretch of highway.
Turning the Way-Back Machine to 1997 and during some kinda party that my sister attended with friends, they used an Ouija Board or Spirit Board to ask it some questions. Some of those questions were about me. I was not present but was told later that evening what was asked. I was told that my wife would be Anna, which is very strange because I have never dated an Anna and my ex-wife is an April. ;) I was also told that I would have three children and one would be called Riley. I have no biological children at all, but I have a pseudo-step-child named Emma, but I have always liked the name Riley, so go-figure. The last question was that my death would be in 2019, so I guess I super lucked out in that aspect. I am not sure but I do believe that a demon inhabits my sister… pretty much sure of it.
We all have that thought as a child, wanting to be a grownup. We see our parents and see the things they can do, and have permission to get away with. We often day-dream about being fully grown and getting to do WHATEVER we want. Sadly… when that time comes we realize what a shame it all is… grown-ups, which I am part of for a long time now. ;) Don’t have any fucking grasp on life, reality, dreams, goals, or anything… anymore than we had a grasp on those things as a kid. All we can hope for is to eat healthier foods, get more sleep, exercise regularly, love ourselves, challenge our minds, and surround ourselves with positive people, good friends and maybe find someone to love.
I am divorced of 11 years, single, 50 and I realized in the last few months that I am going to grow old alone: no significant other, no pets, no family (yes, I have my sister, mom, and dad, but you know what I mean)… I will die and it will be weeks before the smell gets strong enough for a neighbor to notice. I just hope I can wrap myself in plastic or pass out in the tub. ;)
Hmmmmmm… what am I forgetting?! Where is my mason jar of sangria?!
Share & Enjoy.
OH, I almost forgot!
Three of the most important things in life…
Never get involved in a land war in Asia, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.
Demand rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty.
It's chaos. Be kind.
PS:
I am a music maker and a dreamer of dreams.
Sometimes, I squat on the floor and put my arms around my knees and lean forward… cuz that’s how I roll.
PPS:
Unplug and live in 4K. They Live. We Sleep.
#Photo#Human#Primate#Wisdom#EmbraceTheChaos#EmbraceYourWeird#Musings#HappyHatchingDay#Birthday2021#Ronatine2021#FloridaPlagueland
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Joebear Laughs While Peter Beats The Shit Out of His Computer
A/N: Jokes against gay people, a lot of rage, computer destruction, lots of swearing, also written February 26, 2019 (going back in time and describing why Peter has bad luck with anything technological)
TL;DR: Joebear and I Laugh Hysterically while Peter literally beats the shit out of his computer in the front yard.
As I was cleaning Peter's house as usual, I heard him swearing at his computer as he has been for the past month now. I was on the phone with my husband, Joebear, and we were laughing our asses off. Joebear could barely breathe. He was using his high-pitched quick laugh as he was crying. I had the phone on speaker while we listened to Peter swear at his computer.
"Goddammit. Why the fuck won't this damn attachment send over? The fuck is wrong with this E-mail?!" Peter would yell.
Joebear and I couldn't help but crack up at him. My lungs were worn out from all the laughing at him I have done for the past two years.
Joebear commented with a laugh, "He sounds like he has a mentally-challenged computer and needs help with his brain."
Peter yelled to Joebear. "All true! This is bullshit!"
We cracked up and then continued on with our day. Joebear was playing "Hobos and Dawgs" by our favorite nerd rap artist, DarthSydePhineas.
"Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! I need a hobo or a dawg, not you. Then I can go back to class! I need pictures! Where the fuck are they? I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or a dog. This is bullshit! This is bullshit!" I rapped along.
"Fucking hell. If you are going to make technology, at least make it work correctly. What the fuck is the point?" Peter would continually rant at least 15 times a day. I laughed every time without fail. Godiva would just roll her eyes and ignore the bullshit in her son's office. Jamie would interrupt him from his swearing to do more random chores. Interruptions did not help Peter's already fucked-up mood.
Other times, Joe and I would sing along to DarthSydePhineas's "I AM FUCKING SONIC!" while Peter would be doing chores, and I would clean his house.
"I am fucking Sonic. And you can't fuck with me now. I am a fucking hedgehog! And I have spikes on my back! Oh shit!" Joebear and I would sing.
"Okay. I tried to send this fucker three times. Let me break this file down... AGAIN!!! SIIIIIIGHH!!!" Peter would say at least five times a day. The poor bastard just wanted to publish his novels and send them to every literary agent in the world. Whenever he said this rant, I was on the floor laughing every time while Joebear would try to help him break the file down. Joebear was a computer whiz. Peter was technologically-challenged. Joebear and I had a good laugh. Peter was pissed.
"Yes. I typed Artie Wonderbloom and The Green Goblin and Artie Wonderbloom and The Yellow Brick Road at least 20 times today. The fuck else did I write that I am trying to publish? I already published 20 screenplays. Let's move on with my life PLEASE!!!! SIGH! Fuck off. Where is the auto fill?" Peter would rant. "I published 20 screenplays and am trying to publish two novels. Why the fuck am I still doing DRYWALL? Because of the ever-failing healthcare AND insurance system in America and INFLATION! Fuck this world!" This rant happened at least once a day. This rant also made Joebear and me belly-laugh without sound. "Unbelievable. I was a porn star in my time. I wrote screen plays. I am writing two novels. Blood, sweat, and tears. Lots and lots of tears! Why the ACTUAL fuck am I broke? Because America. Because Republicans! Fuck. My. Life."
Joebear and I would cry laughing at this particular rant. We agreed. It was bullshit that even if you made over $50,000 a year, you were still fucking broke. That's why Joebear and I do our own business. We hate answering to people for no apparent reason.
Today, we felt more sympathetic for our tall, technologically-challenged friend than we usually did. I went over to poke him on the shoulder repeatedly. The poor bastard looked like he was about to cry.
"I have tried three times. Three fucking times. To format this goddamn E-mail correctly. These literary agents are pretentious, picky, self-centered pieces of dog shit. They have so so many fucking rules. It's their way or fuck you. Sigh. I should have been a literary agent. It would definitely help me make more money. If I knew how to be a literary agent, I'd do it. It would also relieve frustration, stress, and anxiety to tell other writers to fuck off if they so much as miss a comma! Fuck. These. Goddamn. People. I want to E-mail them and tell them exactly what the fuck I think!" Peter ranted with his trademark sigh.
Joebear and I laughed again.
"You need a new E-mail client. Comcrap is a piece of dog shit. Also, you do have a knack for missing commas. Your writing is amazing, but you forget commas like you forget everything else. Your memory sucks ass," I said.
"He uses Comcrap? No wonder!" Joebear chimed in.
"I know it!" Peter said as he accented his Southern accent. "You guys use G-mail, right?"
"Yes. [email protected]," I answered.
"How the fuck do you set up a G-mail account?" he asked.
Joebear sighed. "Xara. Help him please. I'm going to have a bowel movement now. I shall return," he said.
"Enjoy thy shit," I said to Joebear before I answered Peter. "Go to www.gmail.com."
He was typing the address into the Google search engine.
"Okay. Go to G-mail.com," I said.
He clicked the link.
"Now go to 'create account'," I said.
Peter clicked the link. "So I just fill this shit out, right?"
"Yes, Pete," I said.
He put his first name as Peter and last name as Awkward. G-mail suggested that his E-mail be [email protected].
"Sounds about right. You act like an eight-year-old," I said with a shrug.
"Works for me," he said with a grin. He now had an E-mail address of [email protected]. His other one was [email protected]. He was also a super hero until last year when he had a mental breakdown and didn't feel like coping with being stuck in drywall, exploding cars, toilet gardens, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, naked neighbors, or birthday parties that went to shit because someone forgot the alcohol.
We continued to set up his G-mail account until he asked me what theme I thought he liked. I was sorry to say, but there was a serene purple scene with lilies in the background that I knew he liked. But it was too feminine. I saw Peter as a manly boy, a guy who liked trees, leaves, and old houses built in the 1800s. I was not going to stand for him to pick something so feminine. I guessed the leaf theme.
"Ugh. No. Too typical. Try again," he said.
"How about the woods?" I asked.
"Oh God. Everyone picks that!" Peter exclaimed.
"I don't. I made a custom black, purple, and white theme to describe my dark nature," I said.
He blinked and made a "taken-aback" face with an added shudder. "Well, I like the black theme, too, but that's too obvious," he said.
"How about the rainbow-colored fish one?" I asked.
"Okay. Stop picking what I *should* like and pick what I *know* I like," Peter said.
I sighed. "Peter, don't pick that purple one..." I said.
Joebear returned to the phone after a quick bowel movement. "So where are we in setting up the E-mail?" he asked.
"Peter picked a purple theme for his new G-mail account," I said.
"You know it!" Peter said with a smile.
"Peter, that's gay," I said.
"Oh my God. That's a faggot thing to do," Joebear said with a laugh.
"What? I like purple. And as I recall, Joebear, you like purple, too," he said as he picked the purple theme.
"Yeah, but I don't pick an overly purple theme! I'm not a faggot" he said.
Peter snickered. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.
"Yeah, dude. I'm pretty sure I'm not gay," Joebear said with an added "durrr!" at the end.
"Well, you liked purple, and you called me a faggot, so I had to ask," Peter responded.
"Oh God, Peter," I said and laughed. I went back to work for a bit to try to stop laughing at Peter. "You're such a girl!!!! You know what? I'm going to go ahead and buy you some eyeliner and lipstick. And maybe some new skinny jeans!"
Joebear and I cracked up at my remark. Peter snarled at us and continued to work on his computer.
"That's so gay," Joebear said and laughed. "Please don't do that seriously."
"I might," I said.
"Oh God! I'm done! Call me when something stupid happens!" Joebear said.
"Will do. Love you, bae!" I sang.
"Love you, too," he said as he made a dolphin sound.
I made a dolphin sound in return. He hung up the phone.
A few minutes later, I heard a few autistic growls emanating from Peter. He had Asperger's Syndrome, but no one told him yet. I laughed. His mom couldn't help but giggle and shake her head. She was so done with his shit that day. I could tell.
I called Joebear.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Bae, something stupid happened," I said.
"What now?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said as I put my phone on speaker. "I'Il find out." I went over to Peter and patted his shoulder.
"I tried to send this E-mail three goddamn times! Three! Now four! Christ, I can't count!" Peter said as he growled.
"Oh God!" Joebear said as he giggled.
"Maybe you put in the wrong E-mail address," I said.
"Maybe the first time, but I double-checked the website and double-checked my clipboard and everything was fine," he said loudly.
"Maybe the website had the wrong E-mail address," I said.
"No! I went to Donald K. Fulton's WEBSITE ITSELF. That's the literary agent! I took the damn E-mail straight from the damn website and copied it into the damn recipient's box on the goddamn E-mail!" Peter said as he started foaming at the mouth.
"Donald K. Fulton sounds like a faggot's name," Joebear said.
"It is. This guy is a *real* faggot. I hope this faggot accepts my story," Peter said.
The tune, "I Spawn, I Die," by DarthSydePhineas was in the background.
"Dude, have you ever thought that maybe you're just bad with computers?" I said humorously to Peter.
"Not only that, BUT I'M CURSED!!!!!!" Peter yelled as he grabbed his monitor by the sides and stared intently at it with rage. Then he calmed down just for a moment and smiled. "Sometimes these websites just aren't designed very well!"
I laughed. "Because they were designed by Americans."
"Yeah, Americans can't program worth a shit," Joebear added before he sung a mock version of 'I Spawn, I Die.' "They spawn, they die. They spawn, they die. Every mother fucker has stupid E-mails. Every mother fucker has stupid E-mails. D-D-D-D-D-Dumbasses! D-D-D-D-D-Dumbasses!"
"Oh God! Everything with you guys is racist!" Peter said as he rolled his eyes. "How do you refresh the page?"
"Press F5 on the top of your keyboard, you Old Fuck," I said with a giggle.
Joebear snickered at me. "WOW!" he said with a high-pitched quick laugh.
Peter was 54. I was 30. Joebear was 39. And Peter was bad with computers. I was going to call Peter an Old Fuck.
"The fuck did you just call me?" Peter asked as he pressed F5 and turned his face toward me.
"An Old Fuck. You're 54 and are terrible with computers!" I yelled.
"Oh fuck off. You're as bad as these terribly CONFIGURATED web sites!" he said as he flicked me off.
"If we were in Korea, our websites wouldn't be fucked up," Joebear said. "Americans are just STUPID with programming. You need help, Peter?"
"Yes," he answered. "But not before I beat this computer into submission. I haven't tried that yet!" All of a sudden, Peter rose and punched his monitor in the face. "How do you like that?" He kicked the computer desk. "That's what I think of you, you piece of shit!"
Joebear and I cracked up.
"Really? You beat the computer? How is that going to help?" Joebear said as he cracked up. "Oh God."
"This computer cannot be helped," Peter said before he turned off his tablet kindly. He then opened his window. He turned off the computer. "Thank God I backed up all my shit up on a hard drive. Thank you, Joebear."
"You're welcome. What were you trying to do?" Joebear asked with a chuckle.
Peter then went into crying hysterics. "I just wanted to send my query letter to Donald K. Fulton. That's all. Is that too much to ask?" Peter cried.
"Dude, just send it as an attachment," Joebear said.
"No literary agent accepts attachments because trolls put bad stuff on them," Peter said as he was literally crying.
"Oh wow. Don't they have anticuck software to determine if the attachment is fucked?" Joebear asked.
"An anti-what?" Peter asked as he was sniffling.
"It's antivirus software and adblockers to determine whether your attachments are bullshit or not," I answered.
"I don't know, but I can't get this thing to send," Peter said.
"Fuck it. Try it again later," Joebear said.
"Good idea," Peter said with an evil smile. "I'll try it again WITH A NEW COMPUTER!" He then went ape shit on his computer all of a fucking sudden; he pounded on the sides of the monitor while grunting and swearing. He repeatedly kicked the fuck out of his computer and broke the monitor. "Fuck it! This computer is 10 years old. I am going to Microcenter in Duluth tomorrow to put my shit on a computer that actually fucking works! Fuck this piece of shit! Need to buy a new goddamn computer and need to bitch at these literary agents for being less computer savvy than I am. I'd like to beat the shit out of them." He suddenly threw his computer the fuck out of his window. "Aaaaagggfghhhhhhhhhh! Get the fuck out of here!!!! FUCK YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT COMPUTER!!! FUCK THESE LITERARY AGENTS!"
Joebear was laughing hysterically over the phone. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" He asked between laughs. "Okay. That happened. I wasn't expecting that! Wow!" He was crying with laughter. "Holy Cow!"
At this point, I really should be used to Peter's random autistic rages, but I found every single one of them hilarious. I just fucking laughed until my chest felt like exploding. My mouth was hurting from smiling too much out of laughter. I was beyond shocked when he threw his computer out of a window. I was in a ball and crying with laughter. What the fuck, Peter?
"What the fuck?!" Ted the Alligator yelled. "I can't even walk in people's front yard without getting shit thrown at me! Fuuucccck. I'm just trying to find something to fucking eat. I get a COMPUTER thrown at me? The fuck is wrong with this world?"
Joebear continued to sing a mock version of DarthSydePhineas's song, 'I Spawn, I Die.' "Can't stop killing it. Can't stop. Can't stop killing it. Don't how to stop! Can't stop killing it! Don't know how to stop!" He followed with a laughing fit.
When Ted was randomly in Peter's front yard, I was trying to hold my heart in my chest. I was having an autistic laughing fit. I was laughing without being able to breathe.
"What is going on? Is Peter fighting someone? What? Over a computer?" Joebear asked in disbelief and was chuckling.
"Yes. He is fighting with an alligator in his front yard. This shit is hilarious," I said while belly laughing.
"What? Is he Steve Erwin now?! I didn't know computer issues could have such an effect on mental stability," Joebear said while laughing.
"Why the fuck are you in my yard, Ted?! Jesus! Haven't you learned from the time I chased your ass with a chainsaw?" Peter yelled at him and was ready to throw the computer DESK at Ted.
"Nigga, I ain't even KNEW this was your yard. I normally come in the back yard. I didn't know this was YOUR front yard. Shit. The fuck you throwing your computer at me for?" Ted asked him and was ready to fuck up Peter.
Peter was holding his computer desk and ready to beat Ted with it. "I didn't know you were in my fucking yard!!! If I knew you were there, I would have beat you WITH my computer. Get the fuck out of my yard!" Peter screamed at him. "You're more of a piece of shit than my computer!" Peter made a stupid laugh after that last comment.
"Nigga, I swear to God I'mma fuck you up in your own house. Come at me, bro!" Ted screamed back at him. "I'm hungry and am in no mood for your BUULL SHIT!" Ted was slithering toward Peter. "Had enough of your damn shit!"
"Ted. Where you at?" Mr. Williamson's voice saved Peter's tall Irish ass.
Joebear and I were howling with laughter.
"Record this! Record this!" Joebear yelled.
"Will do," I said. "I'll send you the video when I finish with it!"
"Okay. Love you, bae," he said.
"Love you, too," I said. "I see you later."
He hung up, and I began to record these bums arguing.
"Man, this nigga threw a computer at me! I was tryna find something to eat and then this crazy man comes at me," Ted yelled.
"Your alligator is in my yard again! Get out of my yard! What? Is my yard a hangout or something? I've been through this five times! Can we please stop now?!" Peter yelled. "Excuse me. I need to beat the hell out of my computer. I gotta find a hammer." He then came in the house through the window to find a hammer.
I was recording Peter coming through the window before I turned my attention to Mr. Williamson.
"Come on Ted. This guy is off his rocker," Mr. Williamson said as he shook his head and cracked up.
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my brain needs a break... everything is bad.
Could you be friends with someone who was exactly like you?
i mean. i guess so. it would probably be a pretty boring friendship since i don’t talk much.
Is something expensive better than something made with love?
nine times out of ten i would rather have something made with love than something expensive.
When was the last time you lied?
i don’t remember, to be honest.
What do you think of stealing?
i think it’s wrong...
If you could be told when you were going to die, would you want to know?
probably not. because then i would be way too focused on that rather than the important things in life. like family.
What would you do in case of the zombie apocalypse?
try my hardest to survive, and keep my babies alive and protected.
If you died right now, what would be your biggest regret?
not traveling more. and not getting to see my babies grow up.
Are you happy with the way this last week has gone?
no. this week has been shit. jacob’s aunt gail was murdered in her apartment at a senior living facility yesterday. over grilling. because when her and her boyfriend would grill, it would go into this 76 year old man’s apartment. evidently that is enough to take someone’s life over. he also murdered her boyfriend who was with her, and shot the receptionist. the receptionist is in critical condition but expected to make it. jacob’s grandma, which is his aunt’s mom, also lives in the apartments. just a floor above. his aunt and i weren’t on great terms with each other because of the whole michelle thing. and she would start things on facebook with me every so often for awhile. but they were starting to improve with her. she would bring grandma kelly to our events, like when eliana was born and wyatt’s second birthday party. they were getting better... i still keep hoping we’re gonna get a phone call saying someone just really messed up and it wasn’t her. but i know that’s stupid. cindy (gail’s sister) was on the phone with her when it happened. she heard her scream. heard the phone fall. i can’t imagine.
What do you believe was your greatest achievement?
graduating college. i was the first, and only so far, in my family to do that.
What have you learned from pain?
sometimes it gets better and goes away completely. other times.. it might get better but never goes away..
Do you believe in freedom?
kind of, i guess.
Would you ever take a job you hated just to get money?
i have done that before, and would do it again. anything to support my babies.
Lately, have you felt rushed or bored with things?
not really..
What was the last text or IM you sent?
it was a text to jacob about phe. she is growling at the kids and cocoa when they go anywhere close to her. whether she is eating or even laying on the couch. i don’t get it. no one has done anything to her... i make sure the kids are nice to her.. i always watch them with her... she just seems to be getting more and more aggressive. and i have no idea what to do about it.
How much TV do you watch in a week?
not too much lately. it’s been off for almost a week though.
When you help someone, do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?”
no. pretty much never.
Are you joyful right now?
no. i am not. i’m sad. and stressed. and i just want everything to magically be better.
Do you know the difference between living and simply existing?
yeah. i do.
If your life was a novel, what would the title be?
i have no idea. probably something about being a mom. or an introvert. maybe a hufflepuff. lol.
Could you picture any celebrity playing you in a movie?
no. i could not.
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
i’m not sure. probably like 30. lmao.
What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?
i wish healthcare was more affordable. and i wish we did more to care for the planet. do some things to fix the damage we’ve done.
If a human life span was 20 years, would you live differently?
probably.
Do you think you have a lot of control over your life?
not really. before i turned 18, my parents controlled it for the most part. and now that i’m 25 and married, jacob seems to control it more for the most part.
Are you more worried about doing things right or doing the right thing?
doing the right thing.
Would you rather have the cookie or the cream of an Oreo?
both together, dipped in milk. i don’t really like the cookie or the cream by itself.
What’s something you know you do differently than most people?
i honestly don’t know.
What is the simplest way to make you happy?
just giving me time with my family.
Right now, what’s holding you back?
i don’t know. finances. myself.
Would you rather lose all of your memories or never be able to have more?
this is hard. ashley (my sister) can’t recall a majority of her past memories, and also doesn’t really make new ones. every day is a clean slate kind of thing. and losing either seems like it would suck.
Is there someone you could just smile at and be content with?
yeah.
When was the last time you had deja vu?
i honestly don’t remember.
Who would you like to visit more than anyone?
leslie. i need to get down to her sometime soon.
What would you do differently if no one would judge you?
i don’t know.
When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breathing?
i don’t know.
Would you ever adopt a child?
we are pretty content having two kiddos right now. but i do want to be a foster parent some day. and who knows what the future holds.
Could you change to suit someone else’s needs?
i guess i have before.
If you could be in a Disney movie, what would it be?
hm. i’ve always like beauty and the beast.
If you could view the Earth from above, would you be disappointed?
probably.
Is there something you just cannot get out of your head?
there’s a lot i can’t get out of my head lately.
Do you get jealous of people with fancy things?
not really.
When was the last time you ate?
this morning. i had a bowl of honey bunches of oats.
Have you ever felt like you just weren’t good enough?
all the time.
Would you rather wear really girly or really masculine clothing?
eh. neither. somewhere in the middle. i guess if i had to choose, i would pick girly though.
Is there someone you find incredibly attractive?
my husband.
Do you ever get entertained by the simplest things?
sometimes.
When was the last time you just stared into space?
today.
Could you pick one outfit to wear for the rest of your life?
probably not.
What is the most amount of money you could possibly spend in a day?
i don’t know. it depends. if i’m shopping for jake and the kids, i could potentially spend A LOT of money. if it’s for myself, it’s more of a struggle.
Do you really give a fuck about what people say?
to a certain extent, sure.
Do you tend to be curious or share your own opinion?
be curious.
Ever remembered a nightmare?
unfortunately.
Is there a song from a genre you hate that you can actually stand?
probably. i can’t think of anything specific right now though.
What do you feel like doing right now?
going on a drive.
If you could make anything glow in the dark, what would it be?
i don’t know. the only thing i can think of is eliana’s pacifier, and some are glow in the dark.
Do you really like the food at fast food places?
honestly, not too much.
Don’t you hate those people that can just eat as much as they want?
i don’t hate them.
Have you bothered to think of the future lately?
i’ve been thinking about the future a lot lately.
Would you rather have stars in the sky or the moon?
stars are so pretty.
If you could choose your phone number, what would it be?
i don’t know. i’m fine with what they give me.
Would you rather be somewhere familiar or get lost?
familiar. i don’t enjoy being lost.
Are you afraid of what you do not know?
i guess so. some things at least.
Is there something you are always interested in?
a few things.
What are people always saying to you?
that i’m a good mom.
What did you last hear that made your jaw drop?
the last thing that completely shocked me was finding out that jacob’s aunt gail had been murdered.
Do you have a question for anyone right now?
not currently.
Do you like buffet restaurants?
never again will i go to a buffet probably. they’re pretty gross.
Is there something you always order when you go out to eat somewhere?
i guess at most places i have a specific thing i always order.
Do you mainly live by the moon or the sun?
i don’t know.
When was the last time you felt like you were starving?
yesterday.
Would you ever dye your hair all the colors of the rainbow?
nope.
Do you miss childhood at all?
i mean. kind of.
What has made you laugh lately?
my babies.
What drives you absolutely crazy?
when all the littles are screaming at the top of their lungs.
If a Miley Cyrus song was playing in a store, would you leave?
no. that’d be a stupid reason to leave.
Do you like listening to music on speakers?
yeah.
Ever feel paranoid?
yeah. that’s a pretty often emotion.
Have you ever actually discovered someone watching you?
no.
What would you do if you found an inappropriate picture of yourself online?
i’d freak out and be pissed off.
What do you think of Facebook?
i use it. it’s nice because it helps keep in touch with some people a little easier. but there is so much drama and bullshit on it.
Do you like extra butter on your popcorn?
not especially. i’m good with the normal amount.
Would you rather have Junior Mints or Reese’s?
reese’s all the way. i’m not a fan of minty things.
Do you still use CDs?
not really. every so often i do.
Have you ever taken a polaroid?
a long, long time ago.
Do you wish you could live in the past just to see what it was like?
eh. i’m alright where i am.
Ever felt like you just didn’t belong in this place?
yeah..
What was the last thing you learned?
i don’t really know.
Have you ever avoided going to the bathroom because you were busy?
yeah. more than once.
Do you have anything underneath your bed?
nope. our bed is stacked on top of another bed.
Would you want a walk-in closet?
i mean. sure. although we don’t have that much clothing. well, i guess jake does.
Do you like coffee at all?
i prefer iced coffee.
When was the last time you felt pressured?
a couple days ago. jake kind of pressures for sex a lot. because i’m always exhausted from taking care of our littles 24/7.
Would you rather have your hair straight or really curly?
curly seems to be a pain in the butt. when i was little, i had crazy curly hair. so i think i’m going to go with straight hair.
Do you use any products on your hair?
nope. i don’t care enough for all that.
What is the longest shower or bath you have ever taken?
like... thirty minutes or so.
Still play with any childhood toys?
not really.
Would you rather sleep with a sheet or a blanket?
blanket usually.
When was the last time you were in physical pain?
i don’t remember.
How many times have you broken a bone?
none.
Do you have a preference of chocolate?
milk chocolate.
Have you ever thought anything was evil?
i’ve thought some people were.
Could you make a statement about anything political?
i could but i’m not going to.
What is something useless that you love to do?
i don’t know. surveys i guess.
Do you have a favorite author?
i have a few.
Know anything about your family history?
yeah. i know quite a bit about it. but there is a lot more i could learn too.
Have you ever been scared of something foolish?
oh, for sure.
What do you think of bejeweled things?
for me, i generally don’t like them. but i don’t have any real opinion about them.
Do you own anything “designer?”
nope.
Do you ever stop and appreciate little things?
i think so.
If you had to draw your life, what would it mainly include?
my kids. jacob.
Is there something that just draws you in like a moth to a flame?
not really.
Is there anyone you’d like to hug right now?
jacob.
Could you ever picture someone writing a biography about you?
lmao. no. it’d be pretty boring.
If you had a few wishes, would you give one to someone who needed it?
of course.
Have a lucky clothing item?
i do not.
What makes you feel more carefree than anything else?
nothing.
And finally, who do you just adore right now, regardless of anything else?
my kids and husband.
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American Shithole #19 — 500 Days of Bummer
By Eric Wilson
I don’t want this summer to be a bummer. Last year was the Summer of Puppy where Stella stepped in to fill the void of a loss so terrible, I still can’t write about her — my sweet Layla. That summer though, followed 365 days less Trump. That is decidedly less Trump.
Those days are hell and gone.
Is anyone else feeling a little out of gas after 500 days of Trump? I sure am. This is all so spectacularly gross; and taxing. Turd sandwich after turd sandwich makes my tummy ache. Another day? Another turd sandwich. Check the midday news? Turd Sandwich. Did you choke down that turd sandwich too fast? Well never you mind, here’s the evening news with a shit milkshake to wash it down.
Mm, tastes like Giuliani.
But alas, we must carry on; forward we push, on to the pressing questions of the week!
Now that I have been proven horribly wrong in my prediction that Scott Pruitt would lose his job long ago, I figure it’s time to get back to my seer's roots. Back to a source that has never let me down. Back to the Oracle, baby. Let’s consult the Magic 8-Ball for (answers) to this week’s big questions. Here we go:
1. Did the dick dictator dictate? (It is decidedly so.)
2. Will Mueller’s investigation gather any high-hanging fruit before our collective will to live is extinguished? (Ask again later.)
3. Did this administration — via inaction and gross negligence — effectively murder thousands of Americans in Puerto Rico? (You may rely on it.)
4. Will there be another school shooting between now and five minutes from now? (Outlook not so good.)
5. Did Jefferson Sessions commandeer a former Walmart with blacked-out windows to house the hundreds of children he has separated from their mothers and fathers, and was a U.S. Senator from Oregon barred from entering that detention center for migrant children, with the officials on site going so far as to call the local police on the Senator? (Signs point to yes.)
What the fuck, Jeffery?
6. And finally, when adrift at sea — a sea of lying liars — is there an island I can float away to, somewhere I can play the fucking ukulele all day long, and spend my nights looking up at the stars? Preferably an island that isn’t on fire as it is mercilessly ravaged by rivers of molten lava? (My sources say no, loser!)
Hey, wait a minute. I’m pretty sure that last one’s not an official Magic 8-Ball answer…
(Whatever, loser!)
Whatever, 8-Ball. It’s a geyser of bullshit in Washington, America. I’ve watched enough CNN in 500 days to drown myself in it. I can say with confidence, if it weren’t for the deplorables, we would have flushed this guy already.
“Surely his base must tire?” I have asked a thousand times.
“Surely their reality must be tethered to some distant lamppost in their conspiracy-addled minds that can still illuminate the truth?” I’ve cried.
“Surely enough of these mono-browed, knuckle-dragging troglodytes will cease spelunking their own assholes for five fucking minutes; just long enough to catch wind of the geyser of fucking bullshit erupting from the White House?”
For far too many, it seems not. These modern day zombies may prove to be the end of us.
And with the lying from everyone involved within this administration being so effectively pervasive, so ubiquitous and insidiously destructive, I can’t even bring myself to watch Giuliani or Sanders spin the president’s words and actions this week. It’s too much. It’s just too damn much.
Uncle.
Oh, and can someone please find Bill Clinton’s handler and fire that worthless sack of shit for not keeping Bill the fuck off television? Jesus fucking Christ, can someone please keep the fucking Clintons off the goddamn television? Hey Bill, hey Hillary, shut the fuck up!
He is literally like the grandfather that comes to Thanksgiving and — during the huge family row — takes his fucking pants off. We have important family issues Pepaw; put your fucking pants back on and shut the fuck up!
Jesus fucking Christ. You’re on a book tour, because you wrote a book — a work of fiction I might add — with your buddy James Patterson, that no one wants to read while the country is ON FIRE, and you answer questions about Lewinski, sounding tone-deaf as shit about apologies, you stupid, insensate, doddering old lecher!
Could someone please fucking show the Clinton’s the EXIT sign.
Someone needs to give them a Hicksian reverse maître d’ — “Thanks for coming, street’s outside.”
Fucking hell, Bill. STFU.
(Sigh)
(Author's Note: President Clinton appeared on Late Night with Stephen Colbert after the writing of this column, with an admirable, even commendable performance. I love you Bill, but please shut the fuck up until this fucking monster is out of office.)
I am having one of those days, one of those “poor me” days. I was so frustrated and angry this morning — mostly due to chronic pain (for which I do my very best to keep a positive attitude, about 99 percent of the time) — and my temper flared, and I scared the dogs. So I have been feeling like shit about that all afternoon.
I woke up to my foot in puppy poop because someone had too many human dinner treats last night. It went downhill from there.
Here’s the thing about stepping in poop — it’s much worse with just a sock. The sock/poop combo really brings home the experience.
It’s just been one of those days.
It’s been one of those days where every outcome was somehow annoying — everyday tasks proved unnaturally difficult — and the walls felt like they were leaning in on me, trying to trip me, or throw me off balance, every time I’d round a corner. It’s been a day of obstacles and irritants. Every outside stimuli one would normally dismiss, was a buzzing bee, or a blaring siren.
Today was a buzz hassle. Today was a bummer.
As my friend Awyn put it in a private group this morning where I expressed dismay regarding my bummer predicament:
“This seems like a pretty common occurrence for the average American. Most of us have no money and tons of debt and we either do shitty jobs that kill us a little more every minute, or we starve and die more quickly. Government doesn't care which, so long as we are quiet about it.”
America's new slogan: Get Busy Dying. “We took the one from Shawshank and shortened it.”
All I know is, being able to see a doctor when you're sick shouldn’t be the pot of gold at the end of the American rainbow. I just want to be able to see the right doctor — like many, many Americans. That’s it. I can handle the rest.
Yet apparently we ask too much of our country’s billionaires — who have fought universal healthcare tooth and nail with hundreds of millions, perhaps billions of their filthy dollars over decades.
Healthier people are unfortunately happier people; and happy people don’t fear the bogeyman. For obscene wealth inequality to work, billionaires need lots of bogeymen — and of course, lots of terrified poor people.
Wasn’t it Christopher Hitchens who marveled that there are groups of Americans whom actually believe we aren’t awful enough to each other?
My medical adventure hasn’t yet reached a satisfactory or unsatisfactory conclusion — I am in Limbo — worried about insurance and coverage and pain and death and surgeries and recovery like so, so very many Americans. I won’t be pulling the trigger on American Shithole’s take on healthcare just yet; but I long to tell that story. I hope it ends well. Before it ends.
My experience so far is that every institution I have come in contact with involved in healthcare — from the pharmaceutical companies, to the insurance companies, to the hospital boards, as well as many of the doctors and the nurses — everyone involved is gaming the system.
None of them have your best interests, first.
Coming to this pitiful realization has siphoned my reservoir of hope more than Trump ever will. The disregard for the Hippocratic Oath in America — particularly regarding the opioid crisis — is at its heart, a betrayal by the scientific community. Greed apparently knows no boundaries. That’s what saddling healthcare with capitalism brings. Capitalism unleashes greed on our most desperate hour.
Our cruelty and indifference to our sick, our disabled, our dying, is appalling.
Anyway, back to the giant orange idiot, and how much he clearly does not give a fuck. I am starting to sense that Komàndant Bonespurs has pivoted from his “zero fucks given” default position at the outset of his presidency, to a somewhat more revved-up, 500+ days “negative fucks” attitude.
What’s the biggest story of the week — did daddy tell junior what to say about the Ruskies?
What was his response? He’s got Guiliani on television saying he can shoot the former head of the fucking FBI. Yep, put that one in the history books. He doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks or says at this point.
Are you numb yet?
Sure, legally it matters if he dictated the lies about the Trump Tower meeting that involved his son, but I’m not confident it matters in any sense involving the opinions of his base. With all the chum his legal team and the White House staff are heaving into the waters, the deplorables can feast for years without any need to belabor the facts — while the rest of us slowly drown in an ocean of deceit.
They are pirates on the high seas of American democracy, these filthy swashbucklers, riding the ugliest wave of populism since the 1930s. I look out on to the ocean that is America, and I dream of a blue tsunami — and yet all I see is Lady Liberty walking the plank.
What's on the horizon for America, you ask? Undiscovered country.
Will anyone bring these privateers to justice before it’s too late? Let’s ask the Magic 8-Ball one last time. (Don't count on it.)
B.S. Report
"Beginning June 15th at the Peace March in Chicago, the tour — dubbed March for Our Lives: Road to Change — will make 50 stops around the country over the course of 60 days. A separate tour led by March for Our Lives activists will make stops in all 27 of Florida’s congressional districts. Both tours will focus on registering young people to vote and educating the community about where their candidates stand on gun reform, and which of them have ties to the NRA."
— Rolling Stone
4LWjr.
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Back on my Bullshit
Answering every single question on an ask meme because I want to
Unusual Asks
Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?
Spotify Premium
is your room messy or clean?
If I’ve been manic lately then it’s clean. if not then messy
what color are your eyes?
Blue da ba dee da ba da
do you like your name? why?
NOPE my name is Grace and when I tell people that they assume I’m like some sort of religious nut
what is your relationship status?
I’ve been dating my boyfriend for a little over a year
describe your personality in 3 words or less
boring, bland, macabre
what color hair do you have?
Brown
what kind of car do you drive? color?
I drive a shitmobile. It’s a 2007 vw beetle and it is the color of slightly jaundiced Caucasian flesh, so it looks like a giant pimple
where do you shop?
Be more specific
how would you describe your style?
day to day style: whatever i found on the floor that looks clean because I once again gave myself -10 minutes to get ready. Usually pants and a shirt I bought in the men’s section
I had one day a couple weeks ago that i dressed how i actually wanna dress all the time and it was great. short skirt, thigh high socks with garters, sweater, trench coat. It was great.
favorite social media account
I’m addicted to instagram
what size bed do you have?
full
any siblings?
yep
if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?
Somewhere with good healthcare, like canada
favorite snapchat filter?
I don’t really use snapchat
favorite makeup brand(s)
I rarely wear makeup, but when I do, i guess my two favorite products are both Maybelline (total temptation mascara and instant age rewind concealer
how many times a week do you shower?
at least 7
favorite tv show?
I don’t really watch much tv, but the last thing I watched that I really liked was The Good Place
shoe size?
6.5
how tall are you?
5′3″
sandals or sneakers?
sneakers
do you go to the gym?
I pay for a membership but I don’t use it
describe your dream date
no
how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?
$20 cash
what color socks are you wearing?
grey with cat faces
how many pillows do you sleep with?
one, and it’s so flat that I don’t think it even counts as a pillow
do you have a job? what do you do?
I work at a call center where I caption calls for the hard of hearing
how many friends do you have?
like none
whats the worst thing you have ever done?
I have anxiety, everything i do is the worst thing I have ever done
whats your favorite candle scent?
fuck candles
3 favorite boy names
fuck your heteronormative bs
3 favorite girl names
fuck your heteronormative bs
favorite actor?
uhhhhh I don’t really pay attention to actors
favorite actress?
see above answer
who is your celebrity crush?
celebrity crushes are pointless
favorite movie?
Paranorman
do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?
I have terrible reading comprehension so I only read when I have to or there’s a book that I REALLY wanna read. I like Junji Ito graphic novels
money or brains?
for who? be more specific.
do you have a nickname? what is it?
my boyfriend calls me “weirdo” as a term of endearment
how many times have you been to the hospital?
fuck dude a lot. I’ve only been inpatient 3 times though
top 10 favorite songs (I’ll just do ones I’ve been listening to recently)
Run For Cover- The Killers
Blow Your Mind (Mwah) - Dua Lipa
New Rules - Dua Lipa
Anxiety- Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
Just Tonight - Jimmy Eat World
Bloody Nose - Bay Faction
Steady, As She Goes - The Raconteurs
Talk Too Much - COIN
Up All Night - Beck
tie: Weak or Sober Up by AJR
do you take any medications daily?
Yep
what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)
Dry AF
what is your biggest fear?
I have anxiety, everything is my biggest fear
(If I had to pick one it’s probably abandonment)
how many kids do you want?
ZERO
whats your go to hair style?
step 1: wash, step 2: towel, step 3: leave the house before its dry, step 4: ruffle it around while looking in my visor mirror in the car, step 5: hope for the best
what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)
It’s my parents’ house and it’s pretty big
who is your role model?
fuck dude i dunno
what was the last compliment you received?
I wore my sweatshirt that has the sushi cats all over it yesterday and probably 6 people told me they liked it
what was the last text you sent?
“Ooohhh damn”
how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?
i honestly have no idea
what is your dream car?
one that gets good gas mileage. I like the look of the Honda CR-Z
opinion on smoking?
cigarettes: FUK DAT weed: ok man u get a pass
do you go to college?
yes I do
what is your dream job?
one that has health insurance
would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?
suburbs
do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?
nope
do you have freckles?
yep
do you smile for pictures?
sometimes
how many pictures do you have on your phone?
my camera roll has 1,517
have you ever peed in the woods?
yep
do you still watch cartoons?
yep
do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?
McDonalds
Favorite dipping sauce?
Mcdonalds BBQ
what do you wear to bed?
underwear
have you ever won a spelling bee?
no
what are your hobbies?
I collect vintage cameras, I have a problem with online shopping, I do photography sometimes, I scroll through instagram, I curse the instagram algorithm gods because i have been getting way less likes than i used to, I sleep, I do homework
can you draw?
No. I wanted to be a graphic design major but a) it was gonna take too long and b) I can’t draw
do you play an instrument?
no
what was the last concert you saw?
fuck dude I don’t remember
tea or coffee?
I like both, but my coffee has to have lots of cream and sugar
Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?
Starbucks. I don’t think we even have a Dunkin Donuts in Idaho
do you want to get married?
maybe
what is your crush’s first and last initial?
KW
are you going to change your last name when you get married?
Maybe
what color looks best on you?
i have no idea
do you miss anyone right now?
yes
do you sleep with your door open or closed?
open
do you believe in ghosts?
sure
what is your biggest pet peeve?
not sure
last person you called`
mom
favorite ice cream flavor?
non dairy chocolate
regular oreos or golden oreos?
regular
chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?
rainbow
what shirt are you wearing?
its pink with cats on it and i got it at ross
what is your phone background?
lock screen: a drawing of no banana cat by chuckdrawsthings
background: iphone default
are you outgoing or shy?
depends on the situation
do you like it when people play with your hair?
NO
do you like your neighbors?
I don’t know my neighbors #RuralProblems
do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?
In the shower
have you ever been high?
yep
have you ever been drunk?
yep
last thing you ate?
cookie
favorite lyrics right now
dunno
summer or winter?
no
day or night?
both
dark, milk, or white chocolate?
dark
favorite month?
i have no idea
what is your zodiac sign
gemini
who was the last person you cried in front of?
probably my therapist
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I think I’m part of the problem.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sitting here, typing this from home. I have several friends down in NYC as well as in DC, some on the West coast as well, who are out there marching with others. I don’t want to be there.
Don’t get me wrong, I loathe DT. I didn’t vote for him, however, just because I voted for HRC, doesn’t mean I wanted her to be President. I don’t like her either. I voted for her because I believe he is all that is wrong with this world and he will drag us down to be the laughing stock of the world. We were once a proud Nation. One of the strongest in this world and now we’re nothing but a reality TV joke.
I don’t have that fire in my belly to run out there and be counted among the masses. I believe in all of us, our beautiful rainbow of people, to be treated equally. However, that doesn’t mean I’m a fucking doormat for those that I truly believe take advantage. I’m jaded. I live in an area where welfare fraud is RAMPANT.
I don’t believe that just because you live in a shit neighborhood makes you automatically want to act like an asshole. I grew up in a shit neighborhood. I think the difference was we all had good parents that raised us to be decent human beings. I’m a middle aged white woman. I was raised by a hard headed bleeding liberal of a woman who has a strong heart but believes that only ONE COLOR - BLUE-has the right way of life. I have a strong loving father, who worked his ass off my whole life. WHO ALMOST DIED serving his country in Vietnam, ONLY to come home and be treated like shit because he went to War because he believed it was his duty as an American to go. He STILL gets shit on by people who feel that War isn’t the answer.
No one likes War. It’s stupid and the people that pay for it are the soldiers, their families and the innocents that are being killed because of leaders like DT and the rest of the world.
The VA almost killed my Dad. Their funding is cut. I know there are tons of Vets out there that know what I mean. I’m on the phone weekly, fighting for my Dad to make sure he’s getting the health care he needs. The man nearly gave his life and did give most of his sanity protecting this country. How is he honored? By someone saying thank you and then closing the door because they don’t know how to help him. I have friends that fought in Iraq, Afghanistan and all over the world. Fuck, my cousin was in Somalia. You all know what he did, because they made a movie about it. My cousin is so beyond fucked up mentally because of the way our soldiers are treated.
I want to be safe in my neighborhood. I want a proper education for EVERYONE. Stop teaching to the fucking tests. TEACH History. Don’t keep telling people they can’t read or learn things because it’ll change what we know. HISTORY is where you go and you dig and you find out what happened in the past. However, take the bad and take the good. Understand the time period that people lived in. There are a few thing in our nation’s past that happened that were heinous, but don’t blame the people today for sins of their forebears. You need to know the wrong and the evil to find the good.
We are doomed. We are doomed because everyone wants to fight with each other. No one is listening to the other side because they want to scream at the top of their lungs that what they believe is right and no one else matters. This is on both sides. I have friends on both sides of all issues. I am for some things and against others. Honestly, there was a meme out months ago, that said “All I want to do is to be able to drive my SUV with my guns, smoking weed on the way to celebrate my gay friend’s wedding. That’s how I feel.
Everyone should be able to marry who they choose. Everyone deserves quality healthcare. Everyone deserves a quality education. Everyone deserves to live the life they choose. I don’t give a shit what color you are, which god you pray to and what you eat. If you’re a good person, I like you. If you’re an asshole, I’m not going to like you. But just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I want you dead or deported.
Sadly, not everyone believes things like me. Sadly, people want to harm and judge and do away with things and people that don’t think like them.
I think America needs to fix itself before we go off trying to save the world. Saving the world is what got us into this bullshit. We need to save ourselves.
I know no one will read this. I know that many people think I’m the “sheeple” that I’ve been called. I did not feel the calling to drag my ass out of bed to walk in the cold. I believe in our causes, but not enough to take action. I know that’s a terrible thing to think and do, but I don’t have that fire anymore. I don’t know why. Am I too comfortable? That can’t be it. I live in a shitty environment physically and mentally. I have a shit job, that thanks to DT and his administration will probably lose funding. I struggle every fucking day. I struggle to get out of bed. I struggle to interact with people. I struggle to pay my bills. I’m struggling to find a decent job.
I feel like I fight daily just to live my life. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get up and drag myself to one of the marches. That I can’t sit there with other women and scream for rights, when I can’t scream for my own rights and sanity daily.I’ve accepted that I’m part of the problem. I lock myself in my own head and in my room with this screen in front of me. I see my friends making history while I sit here whining in a blog post that no one will read. I’ve accepted that. I just want my Country back. I don’t want to hang my head and cry every time I hear or see that orange face on the TV. I want to know that my little nieces will grow up in a world that provides them with opportunities. I want my young adult nieces to understand that they are strong, beautiful young women that don’t have to act like a dumb ass to get people to love them. I want them to understand that they are more than what they look like on the outside. I want my nephews to grow up and not be judged because they were born male. Yes, I want sunshine and rainbows. I want my friends, my fellow Americans to remember that we can do amazing things if we work together and NOT AGAINST one another. I support you all that go out there and do what I am not brave enough to go and do. I support you, because I’m just a sheep that can’t get out of her own way.
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