Friday, July 27, 2012

What are YOU lookin' at???

Have you ever caught someone constantly look at your shirt, or another part of your body while they are talking to you, even though nothing is there?

This happened to me ALL DAY. There was nothing on my shirt, it was on straight, it was full coverage - no boob action, no crumbs, no random animals or bugs clinging to my shirt, NOTHING.

So WHAT was everybody looking at? I even went to the bathroom to check, and asked not one, but TWO people if there was anything on me, and I got the same response every time. 

"Nope, nothing there."

Was the pattern on my shirt so mesmerizing that these people felt the need to glance down at least fifteen times during our conversation(s)? Was the baby in my belly doing that weird alien thing and pushing outwards on my skin when I wasn't looking, and I somehow didn't feel or notice it at all? 

And here's another thing: if someone has something on their shirt, or their underwear is hanging out, or their pants are on backwards, or a forest is sticking out from their teeth - TELL THEM! It's NOT rude to give someone a heads up about this stuff; it IS rude to STARE at the offending item on their person NONSTOP and NOT say anything thus CONDEMNING that person to walk around like a DOOFY asshole all day.


Sunday, July 22, 2012

I hate females.

If someone were to ask you, "who is your best friend?" what would you say? 

Now hold that name in your mind, and THINK. WHY is that person your best friend? What does the term, "best friend" even mean?

I've had very few people come close to the "best friend" title in my life. It is something that has always tortured me, especially when I go to a wedding shower or baby shower and hear the best friend speeches and the "oh my god soandso remember way back when"'s. It sucks. Everyone else seems to have had the normal friend progression except for me. 

The few people that got close enough for me to consider the BFF title, ended up fucking me over in some way, thus destroying my trust in female friends going forward. It was always about a guy, or another friend who was cooler. Always. Alwaysalways.

I thought as I grew older that this high school sentiment between females would change. It hasn't. How do I know? Because I got fucked over. Again. I don't know why I'm even hurt or surprised this time. It is to the point where I've had to distance myself from the other females in my life, because I don't fucking trust any of them. 

Females are a nasty gender. They will smile to your face and talk shit on you twenty seconds later to the person next to you. They will tell you how awesome you are and how close you are to them, and then ditch you for a guy or someone who is more entertaining. You will spend money on them, help them in every way possible, babysit for them, offer your goddamn body for surrogacy if they can't conceive themselves, and they will still fuck you over every.damn.time.

Do I seem sensitive and jealous? Because half of the time I really don't give a shit if my friends have other friends, fuck up and make mistakes, never call me because they have a family of their own - I get it, I do that shit too, it's COOL.

All I ask is that if they have a problem with something I'm doing, the way that I parent, something I've said -  TELL ME. Don't tell someone else and complain about it. Don't talk shit on me. Don't move on to someone else. FUCKING tell me. 

I fear for my daughter and her future relationships. I already see the cliques forming and the shit-talking starting at her age. My daughter is usually the brunt of it, unfortunately, because she can't understand why soandso is playing with someone else instead of everyone playing together. Or why soandso makes her sit in the corner while they play with the other kids, as part of a "game". 

I'm tired of it. I understand now why my parents don't have any friends. I understand why they prefer each other's company over anyone else's. It took me a long time, but I get it now.

Today, if someone were to ask me who my best friend is, without a doubt I would answer, "my husband". He is the one person who has stood by me no matter what. No matter how many times I've done and said stupid shit, no matter how many times we've disagreed, he has been there. He doesn't always say the right thing, but he's there. He's there and he loves me, and that's all that matters. 

All of this has made me realize that all that matters in my world is my daughter and my husband. My family. These are the people who I wake up everyday for, who I work my ass off for, who make me the happiest. On any given day, if you were to ask me to go out for lunch or to a bar - I can tell you I'd rather be at home with my husband and daughter, watching a movie or just being goofy on the couch.

Yeah. I know this is supposed to be a funny blog but I've been pretty down lately, and I can only rant to Marc so much. 

Monday, May 28, 2012

My Dad

My Dad is in pain. He doesn't really talk about it much, but the leukemia in his system that has been wearing him down for the past six years is taking a toll on his body, and his sanity.

He doesn't throw pity parties, and he doesn't tell people what he is going through because he doesn't want to hear the "I'm sorries" and "I can't imagine what you're going through" sentiments. Because they don't matter. They don't make the disease slow down, those words do nothing but make someone remember what they are going to have to face when their body stops fighting.

I think it is truly fucked up that people like my Dad, who have worked their asses off all their lives end up having something like this enter their system. There are so many shitty people out there who will live out their lives healthy, surrounded by money and everything they could ever want or need. It's fucking unfair. 

For the sake of this blog, I am going to temporarily put away my anger and remember why I began writing this at all.

My husband, daughter and I went out to Dairy Queen last night and ate ice cream at the picnic tables adjacent to the store. The breeze was slight and cooled the air just enough to make outside completely comfortable to just sit, relax and reminisce. It made me remember going out for motorcycle rides with my Dad, where he would say "you go with Pete, you get a treat!" and he would sneak me off to the very same Dairy Queen to have chocolate covered ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles. 

I remember going to Kung Fu with him three or four times a week, and every once in a while he'd treat me to Taco Bell (my end all be all at the time) before we got home. We'd always have to get rid of the evidence before we walked in the house, for my Mom would raise hell about spending money and an already made dinner.

I remember when I was sick with mono; my Dad took me out to French Creek to take a walk. He took a lot of pictures of me that day, and there is one photo that I still have (somewhere) of me, miserable with swollen glands, crouched next to a huge tree with a Slurpee next to some awesome scenery. I always loved that picture. Not because of the scenery, or because of the hilarity of my miserableness at that moment, but because my Dad took it. My Dad took that awesome picture.

My Dad is an amazing blues guitarist, photographer, artist, martial arts master. I have full confidence that regardless of how sick he feels, on any given day he could snap someone's neck no problem. He works at a shitty job, where people treat him like dogshit all day, despite the fact the he is one of the few remaining electricians that actually know what the fuck they are doing. He deserves a lot more respect than what he gets on a daily basis. 

There are days when I wish I could surprise him or do something special for him, but my Dad doesn't like surprises, or big to-do's. He's just not that kind of person. He doesn't want people to make a big deal out of him, or go out of their way to throw him a party.

Today I finally realized, that the thing my Dad loves the most is spending time with his kids and his grandkids. When I see him with my daughter, I can see every single worry and every single hurt disappear from his eyes. He is the same way with my brother's children, he loves teaching them Kung Fu, music, art, all of the things he is awesome at and wants to pass on to them.

Of every member in my family, the core of who I am is my father. When I feel that anger rise up in my heart that makes me want to destroy someone who hurt someone I love, I know that's my father's anger. When my daughter does something amazing that makes me smile, I know that's my father's pride. When I walk straight into a wall without looking, and shake it off like nothing happened despite the pain that might shoot through my body from the impact, I know that's my father's resilience. When I tell my daughter Goopy and Gypy stories every night that involve ridiculous shenanigans that make her giggle, I know that's my father's sense of humor.

My father is a man that I look up to above any other man on this planet. I respect him through and through, love him with every fiber of my being, and ache for him when I see the bullshit he has to go through on a daily basis. 

If leukemia were a man, I would beat him senseless with a baseball bat, wait until he wakes up, then slowly start chopping off his body parts. I would let him bleed to death and piss on him in the process. I would let him rot and laugh as birds pecked away at the body of a man who has caused so many good people to go through so much pain.

All I can do now is continue doing what I'm doing. Because I know that's what my Dad wants. He wants us to all be happy. I'm going to do that for him. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure my daughter, my husband and me are happy. I'm going to love my family through everything. I'm going to kick ass at my job, finish college and buy a house with my family. I'm going to be the person he made me to be. 

I love you Dad. I don't care if you are mad that I wrote/posted this because I'm a stubborn bitch and you are just going to have to deal with it. You can blame the bitch part of me on Mom. :)

Friday, May 18, 2012

Young Adults: Popularity, Teenagers, and why I'm never letting my daughter leave the house

I recently watched a movie called "Young Adults" with Charlize Theron. I would tell you to go see it, but I'm going to summarize it for you now simply because I know you're a lazy shit and won't go see it anyway.

Jist of the story: Popular pretty girl Mavis Gary grows up to be an ex-famous young adult fiction writer living in the "big city" of Minneapolis. Despite the fact that she is still gorgeous, she is an alcoholic loser who is divorced and goes out to bars to fuck dudes to remind herself how pretty she is. She finds an old mixed tape that her old beau made and decides to stalk him in the town she grew up in. She finds out he's married with a baby and goes for it anyway, ends up pissing off a lot of people she used to go to school with and looking crazy and pathetic, fucks a crippled dude, then goes home with the thought in her mind that she is still better than everyone else. The end.

This made me think about my short time at PAHS, and my time at PAMS. I fucking hated every second of it. It me think of all the "popular" kids at my school, and how ignorant they really were/are. Kids really don't give a shit about who you are or what you can do. If you have something about you they don't like, kids will torture you verbally and physically until you want to kill yourself or go nutso and kill everyone else. When I heard about Columbine, I was sad, but I understood. Yes, those kids that killed everyone were nutso, but did you ever think about what their experience was? You think "oh, they got made fun of for being different, that doesn't excuse them killing everybody!". But do you REALLY know what they went through before they made that decision?

Have you ever been tortured in school? If you say "no" then you lucked out and got a great school, or you were one of the popular assholes that made fun of everyone else and probably deserved to be shot. There were days when I was on the verge of killing myself because how bad I was tortured. My pants were pulled down every day, books were knocked out of my hand every day on purpose, I got made fun of in class and the TEACHERS played along with it and laughed at me, I couldn't go anywhere without someone saying something asinine to me, and I was having a rough time at home too. I am a better person now after going through that, but I would never, ever want that to happen to my daughter ever. To this day I am surprised I didn't end up freaking out and severely hurting one of my offenders. 

Walking around Reeves park in the midst of the fair the other day reminded me of that high school experience as well. I saw fourteen and fifteen year girls dressed like hookers, leaning on boys that looked stupid enough to have a long-term career at McDonald's - but THEY were the POPULAR ones! I don't understand it! Why does our society hold popularity in such high regard and cast all others aside? It doesn't matter if you are smarter than every kid in your class or if you have given all of your free time to charity, unless you are popular, YOU ARE SHIT. 

Even worse, I saw some of the "popular" people that I used to school with and they were ALL THE SAME. The SAME pieces of shit, never changed. And even though I know damn well they saw me, I walked right past them and flipped them off. I don't care if people can change, I still remember every goddamn word they said. Time doesn't erase that. 

I fear for my daughter. I fear that she'll be me in school. Or even worse, I fear that she'll end up popular and pretty and stupid. I don't want that. I don't want her to ever cut another person down because they aren't like her. I want her to learn to accept and tolerate others. I know no matter what I teach her, society will dictate otherwise. But I do know, that if she comes home crying because she was bullied in school, and the school or the kid's parents do nothing about it, I will give my daughter full permission to fuck up that kid physically. I don't give a shit if you think that's wrong. Bullies like that need to be a taught a lesson, and the only lesson that can be remembered at that age is violence. If my kid can't do it, I will do it for them. I will straight on knock a fucking fouteen year old out, no problem. If necessary, I will knock out their parents as well, for raising such a snotty piece of shit and not taking care of it sooner. I will probably end up in jail, but it will be worth every day behind bars.

I know this isn't the normal, funny, story-type blog you are used to, but there is some straight-up sizzling anger in my heart that I needed to get out. 

Dear Parents,

Don't encourage your kids to be assholes. Don't tell them that being different is wrong. If you see them being mean to other kids, take them down a notch and remind them that they make mistakes and have faults too. Don't let your fourteen year old girl out of the house in hooker clothes. Don't let your thirteen year old boy dress like a gangster or a fucking moron. Don't let them out of the house unless they get good grades. Don't let them talk back to you, and teach them respect. This is easier said than done, but what you teach your child not only has an effect on them, but everyone around them. Remember that. 


A person who is still slightly fucked up by her past

Sunday, May 6, 2012

For my brothers and sister (WARNING: This post may be sentimental!)

Today I watched my daughter playing with my cousins in the field at my parent's house. I was surrounded by friends and family, and I could feel every worry in my life sliding away as I watched bubbles float into the sunlight. The comfort in being surrounded by people who love you unconditionally is the best feeling in the world.

Today was about my brother Adam, who I love and would do anything for. He came home for a few days to visit before going back home, but as my husband, daughter and I dropped him off to say goodbye for who knows how long, my heart sank, and something my Mom said earlier in the day popped in my head,

"Today was almost perfect, except it was missing Petey and Jill."

I honestly don't remember the last time my entire family was in the same room together. Maybe at Christmas years ago, but even then it felt short-lived. We have all grown up, we have all gone our separate ways to do our separate things. But I can't help but feel like it's unfair. Maybe we don't always get along, or maybe we've got something going on in our lives that prevents us from seeing each other, or maybe the physical distance and money to travel is too great. But I fucking miss my family. I miss the people that I grew up with who made me who I am today.

I already miss Adam. As much as we probably drove each other bonkers living together in Hawaii, Adam is an awesome, funny and kind person. He is a great uncle to Irie, can cook a mean ass Ahi Taco, and knows how to get shit done. One of the greatest moments in my life was hanging out with him in the waves on a perfect day at Kalalau beach, after a grueling 11 mile hike. I cried a bit as we drove away today, wondering when I would see him next. 

I miss my brother Petey, who works nonstop just to provide for his family. He is a master lottery ticket picker, an amazing chef, hilarious, and has more street smarts than anybody else I know. He is a great Dad, and even though he isn't far, he has a busy life with his family. I have seen him three times now since coming home in November of last year, which is not nearly enough.

I miss my sister Jill. She is beautiful and talented at pretty much everything she does. She is great with kids, and can also kick your ass if need be. I remember all of the adventures we used to go on when we were younger. She lives in a place far away, in a different culture, a different life. The last time I saw her in person was almost two years ago.

It's just fucking unfair. I just wish we could all be in the same room again, even if for an hour. I miss it. Yeah, we all bitch about each other, yeah there are bad memories sometimes that haunt us. But fuck - isn't that part of being a family? I feel like we are all running away from each other, trying to find something to make us feel normal, make us feel new, make us feel happy, make us feel settled, find out who the fuck we are. But today was the most normal and happy that I've felt in a long time, and it was because of family and friends. 

Maybe we have all been running from the one thing that makes us whole - each other. We all have our quirks, shit we wish the other person wouldn't do, but in the end we are all the same blood. We all came from the same two awesome parents, who would do anything for us at the blink of an eye. 

Coming home from Hawaii made me realize how important my family is to me. Being around family and friends has made me understand that they are a part of who I am. As much as we have all grown up, that is still no excuse for abandonment, missed phone calls and lives that are too busy for what is really important. I am guilty of all three, as are most of us.

I miss you all. I pray that you all figure out what you need in your life to be happy. But I know right now that without all of you, I feel like a piece of my heart is missing. Skype isn't enough. Phone calls aren't enough. I need you all near me. I need to see your faces, hear your voices. I just need all of you.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012


Dear Idiots,

Why are you in such a rush to get married and have babies? Is everyone around you getting married and having babies, and you feel like you need to do so to fit in? Do you have a DEEP desire within you, to find that knight on a white horse and then have beautiful children and ride off in the sunset with all of your babies on your lap?

Newflash: It ain't ever gonna happen.

I was you once. I had boyfriends, killed myself over each one, envisioned my life as the perfect housewife with perfect children. I would agonize over every text, every suspicion, flip out on boyfriends for stupid shit, and you know what I missed out on?


So you're 16-21 and you think you're in love? You've been with your boyfriend for six months and now you want to get married? Stop right now moron. You don't know SHIT about what a marriage and kids really take. 

Marriage is FUCKING HARD. You have to constantly work at communication, constantly work to find solutions so you don't slip anthrax on your spouses pillow before they go to bed or strangle them in the shower (that's when they least expect it). You have to PAY BILLS, and WORK to earn money, SHARE responsibilities and LEARN to like each other's friends. Sound easy? Think you can do it? Wait six months to a year after you get married, and then come and tell me it's fucking easy. You are with that one person for the rest of your life. Why the fuck do you think the divorce rate is so high? It's because young assholes like you meet someone, fuck a lot, then think they are in love.

And don't EVER move in with someone you think you love until you've seen them have a bad day. I don't mean, "oh honey, you had a bad day at work let me give you a massage". I mean, "holy shit, what happened to my spouse, they are going to either going to kill someone or themselves, I gotta get outta here". Yeah. As much as it seems perfect now, I promise you there will be a moment that you wonder how the fuck you got to where you are.

And don't even fucking get me started on kids. These little fuckers will SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF YOU. You are NO LONGER YOU. You are YOU + 1. Babies are cute, but they can't talk yet. Wait till they turn four and start screaming in the middle of McDonald's because you gave them apple juice and they wanted chocolate milk. Wait till you are in a rush to get somewhere and they decide to shit/vomit/piss everywhere and whoop, there goes getting to the place that you need to get to on time! Wait till they ask loudly in front of people of a different race, "MOMMY, WHY ARE THOSE PEOPLE BROWN?". Yeah (that brown thing happened today by the way - THAT was fun).

I love my husband and I love my daughter more than life itself; I would kill for them, do anything for them at the drop of a hat, and despite my incessant ranting, I am happy with my life. And yeah, I got married/had a baby young. Yes, I did all the shit above and more. At no moment would I take my life back, but I do have moments where I wish I would have taken time to figure out who I was before I jumped into everything. This is why I feel compelled to tell all of you to slow down.

Why do you want to settle down so quick? Go travel! Go to school! Go out and party! Be ALONE for a while! Why do you need to have a boyfriend/girlfriend? If you can't stand being alone with yourself, then you've got a fucking problem.

Before you ever get in a relationship, you better know damn well who YOU are. I will tell you right now, knowing yourself doesn't come for a long time. I still don't know who the fuck I am. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. 

So stop with the fucking drama. Stop with the crying into your pillow and screaming at your boyfriend/girlfriend and accusations. If someone was video recording how you act in your relationship and showed it to you, what would you think? Because I tell you right now, most of ya'll are pathetic crazy fucktarts.

If it doesn't work, then let it go. Instead of jumping right in to another relationship, take a couple years off and read books, travel, make your own money, do things you find interesting, and if you are so goddamned lonely adopt a pet.

Enjoy your life. Stop worrying about what everyone else thinks of you, and worry about what you think of you. No significant other will ever make you like yourself more. No significant other will ever make you complete. THAT IS YOUR JOB. No matter who you are with in what capacity, loving yourself and feeling whole is your task in life

And when you are ready, find someone else who also loves and respects themselves, and then you will learn to love on a different level.



Friday, April 27, 2012

Bitches. A drunken rant (about bitches)

I decided to take a break from story requests, and embark on a new rant - because I am disturbed. Do you know why I'm disturbed? 

(You guys) "No Malory, tell us, please!"

I'm disturbed about other women. Because most of them are bitches. Really. It's fucking annoying and stupid. 

Dear Bitches,

Why do you insist on being assholes to other girls? Why? Maybe you are at a party, and you are all nice to someone and then talk complete shit on them to other bitches. Why? Does this make you feel better about yourself? 

Being a bitch does not make you cooler, prettier, or smarter then your victim. Chances are, you've been out of high school for several years now, so quit it with the clique bullshit. And why on earth do you have to hate on other women? Is it competition? For what? Why? A boy's attention? To be the center of attention in the group? Let me ask you another question, why the fuck does it matter?

Do you bitches seriously not have lives? What do you do when you get home, bitch about other women to your probably near-suicidal spouse? Fucking stop it! 

Here's a couple ideas: Next time you want to hate on another girl because you're either jealous, a terrible person, or fucking retarded, you can try one of these instead:

-Go outside and look at trees for fifteen minutes

-Actually listen to what other people have to say

-Sew your mouth shut

-Be genuinely nice to someone


-Do something nice for your spouse

-Do something nice for another girl who isn't also a bitch

-Pet a dog

-Learn to juggle

-Eat pizza

-Donate money to charity

-Help old people carry heavy shit

-Carry heavy children for tired mothers

-Learn Kung Fu

-Stop being a bitch

And the list goes on and on. 

Don't you see? There are so many other things you could be doing instead of being bitchy all day. I mean, do you like being a bitch? Is it fun for you?

By all means, if being a bitch makes you happy, go for it, but.... I have a feeling that isn't the case for most bitches.

Because it seems that most bitches are just fucking miserable yabbermouths. The shame is, most of these bitches are hot - but then they open their mouths and it's like "ewww that bitch is ugly". In reality, you aren't ugly - you are just mean, which makes you fucking ugly.

So stop. Be nice to other people, it will make you happy, and it will make you feel really good. And then maybe you'll realize that life is about more than being a bitch.