I'm in a pissy mood.
I'm 37 years old. Wait... I'm 36.
I never get it right. You'll learn that about me quick. It's as if I have short term memory. Odd.
Did I tell you I was in a pissy mood?
I'm 37 years old. Wait...I'm 36.
I
JUST KIDDING...
So anyways I'm 36 possibly 37 and every single month -- I say to self.
SELF
WHY ARE YOU SO PISSED OFF.
You are A GRUMP. WHY IS THIS SO?
SELF-- what is YOUR DEAL?
SELF never has an answer.
SELF also must be Short Term Sally--- because perhaps it could be.....
Oh I dunnooooo..
hm.....
I WONDER...
could it BE?????
P. M. FAREAKING S????
the same crap I've gone through MONTHLY for what.... 20 plus years?
Nah...
I'm just pissy.
AND PMS
STANDS FOR
PISS MY SHIT (OFF )
Julie Duttine - Jaden's Mom Very Sick--- Pray!
Those of you who follow me know that Jaden was our special boy for a year plus. We prayed for his recovery from stage 4 cancer and it worked. He is well! However his sweet mother Julie, is not. Julie is my college friend and former freshman dorm floormate.
She lives here in the Pittsburgh area near to me and this sweet, funny girl has been through intense challenges that no family should. She has cancer herself, slow growing over many many years. A momma in her mid 30's.
Her cancer seemed to take on Jaden's- as any momma would pray for --- and it has spread. She is battling for her life with Chemo and such and has been admitted to the hospital this past evening for continued intense pain that is unmanageable. Would you find it in your heart to think of her today --- praying for peace and comfort for her so that she can forge forward battling. Prayer for this entire extended family who has ridden this intense roller coaster-- for too long. We are thinking of not only Julie, Jaden, Joey and Joe but of Julie's mother and father as well as their extended family .
xoxo
debby
She lives here in the Pittsburgh area near to me and this sweet, funny girl has been through intense challenges that no family should. She has cancer herself, slow growing over many many years. A momma in her mid 30's.
Her cancer seemed to take on Jaden's- as any momma would pray for --- and it has spread. She is battling for her life with Chemo and such and has been admitted to the hospital this past evening for continued intense pain that is unmanageable. Would you find it in your heart to think of her today --- praying for peace and comfort for her so that she can forge forward battling. Prayer for this entire extended family who has ridden this intense roller coaster-- for too long. We are thinking of not only Julie, Jaden, Joey and Joe but of Julie's mother and father as well as their extended family .
xoxo
debby
Karma is my vengeful twin.
I love karma.
She is a dirty evil whore.
No wait, she is more like---- my vengeful evil twin.
Because I'm the good twin and would never wish semi-nonhurtful terrible things on people who have
DONE DID ME WRONG.
Nope, not me.
Karma is a horrible bitch-- and I cannot be associated with her.
Except on the sidelines-- CHEERING MY POM POMS!!
GO KARMA GO!
GO KARMA GO!
GOOOOOO KARMA!
K
A
R
M
A
WHAT'S THAT SPELL?
SUCK IT!!
She is a dirty evil whore.
No wait, she is more like---- my vengeful evil twin.
Because I'm the good twin and would never wish semi-nonhurtful terrible things on people who have
DONE DID ME WRONG.
Nope, not me.
Karma is a horrible bitch-- and I cannot be associated with her.
Except on the sidelines-- CHEERING MY POM POMS!!
GO KARMA GO!
GO KARMA GO!
GOOOOOO KARMA!
K
A
R
M
A
WHAT'S THAT SPELL?
SUCK IT!!
Personal Flotation Devices: A Must Have This Season
My D.B.D does anything for me. Seriously. I'm such an evil witch sometime that it surprises me when he happily goes to the store for the 5th time that week after I text him a grocery list.
No , it is NOT possible to know what I'll need for Tuesday's dinner. Planning is for the sickos. The weak minded.
So when I ask him to pick up tampons and pads--- he's all good with it. Doesn't bat an eye. I don't get that part either though cuz the dude gets heart palpitations just thinking about trying to use an expired coupon. He doesn't like doing things that make him "have diarrhea tummy."
He gets the goods.
But he's a smart one I tell ya.
He's a THINKER.
He MUCKS it all up. To hell and back.
So he doesn't ever get trusted again with such an important task. AGAIN.
EVER.
This PARTICULAR TIME. DBD won the war.
This time DBD made it VERY clear-- who was the boss.
And it wasn't Tony Macelli.
He brought me home a package of pads that was the size of a hay bail.
I coulda set pumpkins on it casually for a FALL FOLIAGE LOOK.
That was my first indication that he was revolting.
My second indication.
The FARKING pads were BIGGER THAN MY FEET,
WAIT..
TWO OF MY FEET
when expanded to their full capacity.
IT WAS LIKE UNROLLING INSULATION.
I
shit
you
not.
I EVIDENCE THE SHIZNIT out of stuff w my IPHONE.
Don't TRY to mug me. I will take pictures and BUST you later. I'M THAT GOOD. * lie-- I'm terribly obvious*
Ready for this?
Get ready.
I'm serious.
TA Da!
My own personal flotation devices.
POOL PARTY ANYONE?
I'LL BRING the RAFTS!
I flew this past weekend to Florida and when the stewardess said
" in the unlikely event that this tin can turns into a ball of firey flames and turns into a cruise-- your seat cushion will become a flotation device"
I SAID..
I'm good maa'm. Then turned around and gave a little friendly-- I got more people. Just give a hoodle when we're goin DOWN and I'll toss one.
There is rustling noise when I walk.
It is not the fall leaves.
NEEDLESS TO SAY--- he is off of PERSONAL PAD PURCHASING DETAIL.
Fucker.
DONT' EVEN ASK-- If I asked him for tampons.
No , it is NOT possible to know what I'll need for Tuesday's dinner. Planning is for the sickos. The weak minded.
So when I ask him to pick up tampons and pads--- he's all good with it. Doesn't bat an eye. I don't get that part either though cuz the dude gets heart palpitations just thinking about trying to use an expired coupon. He doesn't like doing things that make him "have diarrhea tummy."
He gets the goods.
But he's a smart one I tell ya.
He's a THINKER.
He MUCKS it all up. To hell and back.
So he doesn't ever get trusted again with such an important task. AGAIN.
EVER.
This PARTICULAR TIME. DBD won the war.
This time DBD made it VERY clear-- who was the boss.
And it wasn't Tony Macelli.
He brought me home a package of pads that was the size of a hay bail.
I coulda set pumpkins on it casually for a FALL FOLIAGE LOOK.
That was my first indication that he was revolting.
My second indication.
The FARKING pads were BIGGER THAN MY FEET,
WAIT..
TWO OF MY FEET
when expanded to their full capacity.
IT WAS LIKE UNROLLING INSULATION.
I
shit
you
not.
I EVIDENCE THE SHIZNIT out of stuff w my IPHONE.
Don't TRY to mug me. I will take pictures and BUST you later. I'M THAT GOOD. * lie-- I'm terribly obvious*
Ready for this?
Get ready.
I'm serious.
TA Da!
My own personal flotation devices.
POOL PARTY ANYONE?
I'LL BRING the RAFTS!
I flew this past weekend to Florida and when the stewardess said
" in the unlikely event that this tin can turns into a ball of firey flames and turns into a cruise-- your seat cushion will become a flotation device"
I SAID..
I'm good maa'm. Then turned around and gave a little friendly-- I got more people. Just give a hoodle when we're goin DOWN and I'll toss one.
There is rustling noise when I walk.
It is not the fall leaves.
NEEDLESS TO SAY--- he is off of PERSONAL PAD PURCHASING DETAIL.
Fucker.
DONT' EVEN ASK-- If I asked him for tampons.
Cotton Candy Dreams and Fa-reaking Lollipops-- How Angela Landsberry Got her Groove Back- and me too.
I'm flying this week and visiting some friends in Ft. Lauderdale.
Do I sound super fun and exciting?
Like you want to be my friend?
* blank eyes*
Actually I'm flying BACK as I speak and I'm posting because so many people stopped me at our annual Macaroni Kid Meetup and told me that I should quite simply, be president.
I know.
It's crazy eyes bull shit.
*letting that settle in*
Okay -- so whatever. They said they thought I should write again.
Well.. SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!
( me too)
ORDER UP BARTENDER!
Everywhere I turned someone was stopping me to kindly fill me with lollipops and fucking cotton candy dreams --sweetly commenting about my writing. The lurkers out there are intense *NERVOUS LAUGH * and mucho appreciated.
Why don't I do it any longer?
Loads of reasons. Namely, my family needed my focus more. I was building my incredible Macaroni Kid empire with my two wonderful sidekicks and was finding all kinds of things in my life that I had been missing. Sadly, writing was one of those elements.
Writing has taken a back seat to many things in my life and has been pepper sprayed in essence. What used to be fun for me------ blogging--was no longer something I wanted to be a part of.
I maced it.
It maced me.
It burnt me from the inside out in so many ways.
So...
I lit it on fire like that one chic who lit all her husbands clothes and beamer on fire in that one movie.
Finding Angela Landsberry?
No? Not it.
Getting my groove on?
Angela's groove back?
What the fuck ever. The chick who lit it all up and gave a big eff u.
Yah.. that's kinda me. In my head though. Tough like nails. But not really.
But this past weekend I realized that I don't have to be a "blooooooogger" * air quotes* just because I spew my madness on a BLOG page. I'm no longer a blogger. That means a whole different realm of shit.
But writing is INDEED fun-- and I can choose to pick it up when I want and mail you something. Postcards to you. :)
So here you go. Check your mailbox soon.
I got some shit to say. :)
Do I sound super fun and exciting?
Like you want to be my friend?
* blank eyes*
Actually I'm flying BACK as I speak and I'm posting because so many people stopped me at our annual Macaroni Kid Meetup and told me that I should quite simply, be president.
I know.
It's crazy eyes bull shit.
*letting that settle in*
Okay -- so whatever. They said they thought I should write again.
Well.. SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!
( me too)
ORDER UP BARTENDER!
Everywhere I turned someone was stopping me to kindly fill me with lollipops and fucking cotton candy dreams --sweetly commenting about my writing. The lurkers out there are intense *NERVOUS LAUGH * and mucho appreciated.
Why don't I do it any longer?
Loads of reasons. Namely, my family needed my focus more. I was building my incredible Macaroni Kid empire with my two wonderful sidekicks and was finding all kinds of things in my life that I had been missing. Sadly, writing was one of those elements.
Writing has taken a back seat to many things in my life and has been pepper sprayed in essence. What used to be fun for me------ blogging--was no longer something I wanted to be a part of.
I maced it.
It maced me.
It burnt me from the inside out in so many ways.
So...
I lit it on fire like that one chic who lit all her husbands clothes and beamer on fire in that one movie.
Finding Angela Landsberry?
No? Not it.
Getting my groove on?
Angela's groove back?
What the fuck ever. The chick who lit it all up and gave a big eff u.
Yah.. that's kinda me. In my head though. Tough like nails. But not really.
But this past weekend I realized that I don't have to be a "blooooooogger" * air quotes* just because I spew my madness on a BLOG page. I'm no longer a blogger. That means a whole different realm of shit.
But writing is INDEED fun-- and I can choose to pick it up when I want and mail you something. Postcards to you. :)
So here you go. Check your mailbox soon.
I got some shit to say. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)