Quitcher bitchin’

Everyday it’s the same thing as I scroll through Facebook (I can’t quit you, Facebook!) Someone is upset about something. Someone is offended and enraged and indignant and literate enough to write an entire article about it. I am being attacked, my deeply-held beliefs are under attack, I am being shamed. Shame, shame, shame – it’s everywhere! Fat shaming, skinny shaming, short shaming, slut shaming, smart shaming, poor shaming, woman shaming, mime shaming, puppy shaming, whale shaming I am so fucking sick of these terms aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!

Let’s all agree on this one central idea, this keystone of the human condition: it’s no mystery that there are a lot of d-bags out there. I encounter several just on a five minute trip to Starbucks. Very much like a moo-moo on Old McDonald’s farm, they’re here, they’re there, they’re everywhere. And because it’s our right afforded to us by the Constitution of this great nation (which everyone seems really, really well-versed in these days) we have the unique freedom to say whatever the hell it is that pops into our d-bag brains. Isn’t that magical? I can spout off all day long about economics, thermodynamics, thigh gaps, carbohydrates, the military, the common core, Creationism, evolution, whatever it is that I may know little or nothing about. I can do that and create a hashtag for it and link to an article on Upworthy and attach a picture of a sad, abused animal. That’s some 21st century shit right there.

And what are you going to do about it? I bet your blood pressure is going to go up a little bit when someone says that you have no idea what religious liberty ACTUALLY MEANS or that the Earth has only been around for a few thousand years or that Bill Clinton was the best president we’ve had in decades. What are you going to do about it? You’re going to waah waah waah all over a piece of paper and pitch it to Thought Catalog. Or how about, HOW ABOUT we stop allowing ourselves to become offended? How about we control the only thing we can in these situations, which is how we react to the billions upon billions of opinions everywhere in the world? Right?!

Anybody want a peanut?

Anybody want a peanut?

I’m working on it, I truly am. And I hope others will, too. Think of the shitload of free time you’ll have when you’re suddenly not compelled to write all those angry articles or rude comments or hateful letters to faceless corporations. All that time you spent furrowing your brow and foaming at the mouth could’ve been spent drinking moderate amounts of whiskey and catching up on The Walking Dead before Season 5 premieres. Sounds like more fun to me, especially since those new people they met at Terminus are totally cannibals. Plus that’s really going to free up my Facebook feed for more videos of cats trying to jump onto things and failing.

Nice to meet you

Hello and welcome to my world. Boy is it sticky and uncomfortable in here. I thought I’d take this opportunity to introduce myself and tell you a little bit about what this blog is about. And what it is not about.

Me. I’m an aspiring writer. Which means I’m great at taking naps. I don’t write in public nearly enough, which I guess would make me not so serious about becoming a writer. But once my daughter is crate trained, I’ll be heading up to Starbucks much more frequently, shitty laptop in tow.

More about me. I’m scared of a lot of things. Spiders, in-laws, failure, undercooked chicken, Those Funny Little People. My life is a long list of woulda-coulda-shouldas. I also like to eat noodles – noodles of every kind. Just give me noodles! And I’ll eat them. That’s me in a nutshell.

What this blog is not. It’s not a food blog or a mommy blog. It’s not about fitness or sports. It’s not about stamp collecting, gardening, religion, politics or entertainment. I will not be scaling the Matterhorn or spelunking into the Cave of Wonders and then telling you all about it and how awesome I am.

I reckon this blog can be defined only as a potpourri of crap. A crappouri, if you will. If there’s anything that I’ve learned from reality television, it is that mouthbreathers like me with no discernible talent and nothing to offer belong in the limelight. Basking in it and twirling their skirts and sharing their insignificant feelings and opinions. No you do not have to work hard to be successful and celebrated. And that’s why I spend a considerable amount of my income on lottery tickets and Spanx.

Thanks for reading! Tell a friend! If you have no friends, then go make one and tell them about this blog. They will think you are quirky and mysterious and sexy and invite you to their next swingers’ party. You’re welcome.