Maniacal Musings

— A flexing anus in my face. Nails trying to claw my eyes out. The dogs. They are the only alarm clock I need.

— No matter how many times I look up the word “necessary” I cannot retain its correct spelling. Spellcheck just fixed it, again. My brain is holding some sort of grudge against it. It seems to be my word Bermuda triangle. I always get lost in the middle, scramble around, get disoriented, and never find my way out.

— I don’t like the hour 4pm to 5pm. Yeah, I don’t know. I need therapy to figure that one out.

— You never know when an anonymous threatening letter will need to be put together. Which is apparently why I have one year’s worth of Entertainment Weekly magazines.  Or maybe one day my daughter will need to do a book report on the Hunger Games pandemonium.

— In high school some guy called me a “mud duck” and I knew it was an insult, but I had no fucking clue what it meant. Recently, I found the term on Urban Dictionary.

Mud Duck: An ugly girl of any race or background, she is just ugly. Used in a sentence: That fat hoe is a straight mud duck.


Good to know, and I must say that is not very nice. So…

Dear Jerk Fuck, You were no Greek God yourself. And fuck you Urban Dictionary. Just cause.

— I am a 33-year-old, white, married, mother of one, living on the Oregon coast, and all day today April 4, 2012, I’ve had a song stuck in my head. The song: I’m In Love With A Stripper By: T-Pain

Fucking idiot! My lips enjoy nothing better, than forming those words. I love the way it sounds, I love the way it feels. It warms me like a fresh spring day.

— Someone, anyone, please hear my plea. For the greater good of the world, please stop making Nicholas Sparks books into movies. He can write a million books, but his stories must stop violating the big screen. Putting absurdly good-looking people in those movies doesn’t make them worth your time, or you know, like, good.

P.S. Here is the plot of them all: Love feels good. Love hurts. Love is bittersweet. Love is a bitch, then someone must die. However, if you feel like you might be an emotional cripple, then go ahead, watch these sappy piles of poo, and test your tear-o-meter.

All sarcastic quips aside, individually some of these movies have qualities that may qualify them as, “okay.” But as a collective they’re too much. Just too much of…something.

Titties! (I’ve decided I’m going to sign off that way from now on. No, I’m not. I’ve actually decided to be a filthy liar. Okay, maybe not. Alright, titties is just a fun word, and brings me the same joy as, fucking idiot.)


2 thoughts on “Maniacal Musings

    • Oh yes, but they get the slang definitions pretty much right. And explaining that wouldn’t work well in the post. Satire, laughing at myself and amusement is always the main goal, not so much cold, hard, facts. But, thank you.

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