Happy last day of the year, everyone. I pretty much write all of my blog posts on the fly, and this one shall be no different, so my “jumps in logic” may or may not make sense, and you know what? That’s o-fuckin’-kay. This is has been an intense year, to say the least. It’s been less than a year since I started this blog, and it’s changed me as a person in ways I never knew were possible. Having said that, I would like to take this opportunity to reflect on some important “awakenings” I have had. Some of these will undoubtedly offend some of my friends. But remember, you guys are the same friends who “applaud” my authenticity and blunt honesty, so hopefully the bridges will be merely singed and not razed.

Okay….The TOP FIVE things I have finally come to terms with, have been enlightened by, and have had to face, head-on in 2014.

1. Parents who allow their daughters to walk around in clothing akin to a $2 whore should have their parental rights taken away… and then be hit in the genitals…. preferably with a mallet. 

I CANNOT, for the life of me, figure out how a mother or father can legitimately think that letting their daughter walk around in shorts that could get her impregnated if a man merely sneezed too fucking hard is ok. Where the hell do you guys shop? There should be a section added to every store, and this section should be called…Craigslist. It would be a seamless (no pun intended) addition. Just imagine:

You walk into your nearest clothing or drug store, and you see the following signs: Women, Juniors, Baby, Maternity, Men, Athletic, Intimates, and Craigslist. Talk about a time-saver! 👍 If you’re going to allow your daughter to walk around looking like a prostitute, make it easy on yourselves. Just head straight to the Craigslist section of any store and BAM – everything a ratchet bitch would need is right at your fingertips, like:

• Booty Shorts (but you must buy at least one size smaller than what actually fits)

• Heels SPECIFICALLY designed for those chicks who find them perfectly fitting to wear to Legoland or the park… WTF is wrong with you?

• Racoon make-up for all the lovely ratchitas who think looking like RJ from Over the Hedge is the same as a “smokey eye”

• Heavy foundation so she can cover the scabs she’s developing from her rapidly growing meth addiction.

• Low-sided, see-thru tank tops so your side-boob is almost guaranteed to “accidentally” show… of course, these girls are usually tweens, so it’s more like “side mosquito bite”

• Dresses that ONLY come just past your vagina. If you don’t shave that area, then just tell people that the hem is fringed and/or crocheted. EW.

• If you’re too tall, and the dresses in question fit more like shirts… too bad, ratchet bitch. You’re a whore – Make it work.

• Pregnancy Tests in Bulk – trust me… your daughter will need 1…. or 50

• There shall be no wallets, since your daughter will undoubtably be paying for her shit in “other ways”

• Pamphlets for “safe houses” so your daughter can hopefully find a way to escape her pimp, because trust me – if you dress your daughter like a whore, she will act like one…. and then she’ll eventually become one

The list goes on…. but it’s perfect, because with any combination of the above products, your daughter will eventually END UP on Craigslist, and I can pretty much guarantee that the 55 year-old coke addict/pedophile who bangs your daughter and then casually throws $40 her way, found her there.

2. Some people are severely restricted when it comes to producing their own thoughts.

Ahhhh…. every morning I wake up, I grab my cup of coffee and I click on Facebook to scroll through pics, stalk randoms with whom I share mutual friends, comment on shit, and grab a few laughs. Well, unfortunately for me, in order to get to those pics, randoms and comments, I have to scroll through one hundred billion trillion gazillion status updates including, but certainly not limited to, one or more of the following:

• someone’s fucking feet at the beach and/or pool

• landscapes of any kind with some stupid fucking quote attached, like, “Loving life.”

• Photo after photo after photo after photo after photo after photo of some random, inescapable “inspirational quote“. STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!! For the love of whatever the fuck you believe in, STOP!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t need daily inspiration. Obviously you do. Good for you. I hold no judgment. But PLEASE stop taking up space on my Facebook page with photos of white font against random backgrounds of nature scenes, especially waterfalls. These aren’t Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy. If they were, I’d say post away, but I don’t need to be reminded on a daily basis that, “To the world you are someone, but to someone, you are the world.” Or, “Life is a journey, so drink your latte and let it all sink in.” Does that even make any fucking sense? No, of course it doesn’t, and I just made it up, but I see dumb shit like that posted literally every single day. I know those of you who know me and are guilty are going to read this and most likely get offended, and if you feel the need to un-friend me, I understand. In fact, as much I love you, I might even send you a ‘thank you’ text.

Here’s what it comes down to. I don’t NEED daily inspiration. I didn’t ASK for daily inspiration. If YOU need daily inspiration, then YOU, my dear, are CLINICALLY DEPRESSED, and I know plenty of doctors who can fix you right up. Your “inspirational quotes” are like verbal-fucking-yoga, and I hate yoga. If you’re gonna post something inspirational, at least make it something that YOU thought of. I don’t need to see a post someone else wrote – I don’t know them. And I don’t care about them. And if you want to share whatever ‘eureka’ moment quote you read somewhere, create a Facebook group dedicated solely to that shit and call it, “Inspirational Quotes, Ad Nauseum”. It’s easy to create a group on Facebook. I can show you how. Invite all your Facebook friends and let those who wish to join….join. Leave the rest of us alone!

Bottom line? Watch Kung Fu Panda and find your OWN goddamn “inner peace”.

3. 67 Photos of your kid in the same outfit, in 67 different poses and 1….. OR 67 faces

People, let’s just call a spade a spade. I don’t give a shit about your kids – I only care about mine. Don’t get me wrong. I love your kids. I love playing with your kids. I love our kids hanging out together, but what I DON’T love, is seeing every single angle of your kid’s tongue cuz he stuck it out and its “the most adorable thing ever.” Sorry – it’s not. Do us all a favor – download InstaCollage and put all the pics on one single photo. PLEASE.

4. Fishing for Attention on Social Media Using Passive/Aggression

People, it’s simple. If you want us to ask you, “what’s wrong,” then either POST a status update that simply reads, “Someone Please Ask Me What’s Wrong,” or just fucking tell us!!!!! No one likes reading a status update that says shit like, “Help me face this crisis head-on,” or “Worst Day Ever,” or “Why is this happening to me?”, etc. C’mon… you know what I’m talking about. Stop fishing! Just fucking say what’s on your mind; for example:

• Instead of “Help me face this crisis head-on,” you could say, “My fucking house flooded and when the bill comes my baby-daddy better help the fuck out.” See? In a matter of seconds we know exactly what’s going on, and now don’t have to read 16 comments that ALL say, “Oh no… what happened?”

• Instead of “Worst Day Ever,” you could say, “My car died on the way home from work and I couldn’t get ahold of my husband, and when I finally got there, I saw my husband bent over the kitchen counter being fucked in the ass…. by my male boss. Oh, and did I mention my boss was wearing my bright red Loubitons and my husband a unicorn headband that sprinkled glitter onto the island every time he thrusted forward?” I know, I know… It would take more effort writing that than simply “Worst Day Ever,” but you’d end up having to tell us anyway, due to the 128 “Oh no, what happened?!…s you’d see, and this way now we all know why, and we all agree with you. Done and done.

• Instead of “Why is this happening to me?“, you could write, “I just lost my job, and was notified that an arrest warrant has been issued for me because I got caught selling cocaine to the guys in the mailroom.” Boom! Problem solved. We now know why this is happening to you.

Easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy.

5. We can officially divide the country into 3 sections: 

• The West Coast
• The East Coast
• and what I like to call….. Michael’s

Listen, I have acquaintances and friends all over the world, but the ones who live in the part of the US known as “Michael’s”, have somehow managed to make the ugliest shit known to man seem cute……to each other. Everything has fringe, lace, bow, ruffles, quilting, or all of them in any number of combinations…. on everything. We’re talking lamps, babies, pillows, tables, chairs, towels, plates, forks, animals, the list goes on!!! I’ve also apparently learned that the “Michael’s” part of the US is the only place that hasn’t realized the “out-of-dateness” of monogramming canvas bags with THAT font.  You know to which font I am referring. That stupid one that only comes in all caps, and it’s so cursivey (<–yes,  I just made that word up) that you can’t even tell what the fucking letters are!! If you want your initials on your bag to be unreadable, congratulations. You have succeeded. Good luck describing that shit to the Lost & Found.

(MichAlien: MA )

MA: “Uh, yes it appears I left my purse at the restaurant.”

Maitre de: “Can you describe it for me, please?”

MA: “Why yes… it’s Pink and has my initials on it.”

Maitre de: “Perfect – what are your initials?”

MA: “My initials are WTF, but it’s in some script, so you’ll want to look for the bag that has a few swirls to the left, and then a couple to the right, there might be a butterfly in there somewhere, and possibly a reference to the illuminati.”

Maitre de: “You’re from Michael’s, aren’t you…..”

Summarization:

In retrospect, 2014 was an overall fantastic year. I made some pretty awesome friends, and I lost some, as well. But then again, calling my character into question is an automatic friendship deal-breaker for me, so to those of you who were guilty of this, and you know who you are, I now realize that you were never really that awesome to begin with. Good luck with everything. I wish you the second-best.

To those of you who have supported me and have been there for me since before I started this blog, and I was nothing more than an outspoken, obnoxious, but entertaining friend, I value each and every one of you and I NEVER forget who my friends are.

To those of you just finding out what I’m about, err….. good luck. 🙂

And a special thank you to all the lovely ladies at Target who, over the past several months, have politely put the business cards I gave them into their purses before reading the back and then handing them back to me, in disgust. And an even BIGGER thank you to the ladies who did read the back, but laughed. You guys are cool.

Let’s see what 2015 has to offer. And I really need to get off my ass and start this podcast. Calling myself out!!!!!

Happy New Year!!!!!