The Bastard Child.

Lately I've felt like I don't belong. I'm kind of a bastard. I'm not tight with Mormon Jesus, I don't really grasp the ooey gooey family togetherness bullshit. I haven't done anything super neat with my life, like procreate in masses. I'm just me. I'm dysfunctional I suppose, but I guess I find some sick comfort in that. It's all I know. The things I grew up with as "normal" are sort of derailing me in "real life."

There are some scenarios I can't avoid. Weddings in the family, Deaths bringing family together, Family Barbeque's for Birthdays, Etc. Being a girl who comes from a very limited supply of family I dread every said event. I don't do well in these things. I try like hell to avoid these gatherings. I'm the girl awkwardly sputtering off words and perspiring because I'm afraid the word "Bitch" or "Ass hat" or "douche bag" might slip out of my mouth.
If one of these events forces me into a church, I'm constantly on guard listening for the lightning bolt that is going to strike me down in a fiery blaze of glory. I'm pushed to make a decision to either be struck down by the hand of god or continue being the bastard child of the family. I usually opt for the latter, because at least my safety isn't immediately compromised.

I'm goin' through a funk right now. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I'm most comfortable holed up in a bar on a Sunday afternoon in my tattered jeans, shootin' pool and enjoying mass amounts of beer. I guess a mother mighta helped out in my childhood development, eh?

Maybe it's time to consider relocating. Moving would be tiresome, But so is the constant feeling of being one big fat dissappointment.

Now it's off to the gym for fight night and then home to a lovely bottle of wine for dinner.

A good woman who likes to sniff ass.

Meet, Layla.

She also answers to "ManBearPig."

Her favorite color is purple. She doesn't like long walks on the beach or any form of exercise for that matter. Her interests include but are not limited to: Being a selfish bitch to her boyfriend, Dax. Grunting excessively, Eating, Sleeping and always being the center of attention. (And if she isn't, prepare to hear it through a series of grunts)

So far my maternal instincts have only taken me as far as being a proud pet owner....and by proud I mean I like to take embarrassing and hysterical photos of them and then post them on the Internet as I mock them and giggle. I'm sure karma will give me my turn.

I apologise for the poor quality of the photo. It was taken from my shitty-balls Blackjack phone, inside my shitty-balls SUV that runs purely by the grace of Mormon Jesus.

Out of retirement.

Not too long ago I deleted all of my Internet sites. Blogspot, Facebook, Myspace...ect. O.k. I didn't delete Myspace due to a completely ridiculous game application on there that has me by the balls.


Anywho, I threw my Internet fit for a number of reasons. None of which I'll go into. However as the days go by I notice awesome "Blog worthy" items that I find myself telling my friends who still have Blogs, to blog about.

Then my selfish, independent and opinionated ways took over my brain and made me realize that I want to do it myself. (Would it shock you to know that I am an only child?)

Without further adieu, enjoy the Blog of the day.




THIS IS WHAT MY THURSDAY LOOKS LIKE;














I'm being threatened by some sort of a gamboo. Swollen glands, Runny nose, Sore throat, Body aches, Fatigue and overall lameness. (Think I could get away with emotional instability as a symptom too?)
I've been popping so many pills that my co-workers probably think I'm some crazy cracked out, Vitamin C fiend. My daily ritual this week has been 3 vitamin C pills, 6-9 Echinacea pills, 7-24 Halls defense vitamin C lozenges and then, of course, my daily multi vitamin and glucosamine chondroitin. All washed down with 75 ounces of water, 2-4 cups of coffee, and 1 hot mug of lemon and honey all in a 8 hour period. I've forwarded all my calls to the ladies room.
It's not getting any better but it isn't getting any worse. I have a really hard time going to the doctor for things that aren't life or death. (By my own definition, of course)

I really need to kick this. This sub-par health issue is keeping me from my morning jogs and nightly aerobics class. The only thing this gamboo hasn't taken away is my appetite and desire to drink a lot. The combination of this week has left me feeling like one chubby, snot nosed, whiny, achy, discouraged, little bitch who is all sorts of depressed.

If you feel like leaving any suggestions, By all means. And if you feel like bringing me soup, I'm the thing balled up on the couch drinking a lot of whiskey.

Cheers.