One begins a blog to write one liners used in daily life to record them for a friend writing a screen play.
Then one gets in a little unintentional imbroglio with some chick working for the city who has an inappropriate relationship with her spouse. She called him her work spouse (which could explain the attacks against me....wish she'd have taken him home. I'd have even wrapped him up for her...sigh...)
My....ahem....competition at the city gets weird and levies an illegal $500 fine based on gossip that he beat me. Now, when I tell this to my politician friends about this, they assume that the fine came from a court that found evidence of domestic violence. NOPE! This is not the case. The fine came from the Tax Audit Supervisor and went into the fund for her office as per the Human Resource Director for the city. Beyond that...I know not where my dough went.
I dig to try to get my money back.
Lawyers get involved. City cars start sitting outside of the house. City lawyers start calling. Cops start barging in all hours of the day and night claiming 911 calls were made.
Ms. Hypnotist Hissyfit gets b!tchy and starts documenting everything online.
Then my political rants go public and they ask me to run for office (probably to shut me up). The circumstances surrounding that are really weird. A libertarian, getting help from a republican, wanted me to run to help the republicans but the republicans don't know a damn thing about it. The libertarians didn't want me to do that but didn't clue me in until after I was on the ballot. My ex started to sabotage me by lying about his income, running the credit, hiding the money, and getting my name on the welfare rolls during the campaign. I know we are not receiving welfare but I still think they have kept my name on the rolls. That just pisses the hell out of me.
I spent many hours with poor, disabled women of color at the welfare office while trying to sort that mess out. I saw the abuses in the system. The things welfare workers say to those in need are shocking; I'd even characterize them as emotionally abusive. It would be fun to document these things online and wish the ACLU could do a class action on behalf of the poor.
I'm a little ticked. People are not poor because of personal deficits. They are poor because of discrimination.
Welfare is the government's apology for justifying gender and racial discrimination.
I certainly don't know who to trust anymore. I'm staying away from the lot of them until I can sort out the truth of what happened. The only people who actually tried to help me were the democrats running against me in the race. One tried to help me sort out the mess with the city and the other tried to help me find a job.
Maybe I'll send them some cash when things settle down. I'm sure they'll run for office again.
When I ran for office, I realized that politicians are the freakin' dumbest people on the damn planet. The only way to win is to play dumb and say nonsensical things.
Bored, I started to incorporate all the gossip I hears about myself into my blog. My sister calls me a witch, so I play that one up to the hilt on a blog.
Then in real life, those rants start to leak out, too.
Case in point.
My daughter has a baby daddy, who apparently thought that I would take in his newborn child. He thought that I would drop everything and stay in a dead marriage to care for his child.
I refused.
He left.
I've found myself taking care of an infant more often than I'd like. It is a definite career killer.
I've also been sick more times than I care to count in the past eight months due to that little tyke. She gets a cough, I get a cough. She gets a fever and I get one and on and on it goes.
If I wanted a baby, I know how to get one of my own.
Not to say she's not fun. Yesterday, I plugged in my old Casio Synthesizer and let her have at it. She laid down a pretty mean beat while I worked out next to her.
I think she's going to like playing the bass, too.
Oh, and she learned a song yesterday. Yep, it's a song by the Beach Boys. She sings Baa Baa Baa Baa Baa Braa aaa.....while getting her groove on.
I have to admit, that's pretty darn cute.
Still, if I wanted a baby, I'd get to choose to sleep with someone laid back, calm and introverted like I am....so that the offspring doesn't need constant communication.
Introverted babies need attention, they just don't need to be the sole focus on your attention.
That's okay. This little extrovert likes to explore food. We spent entire days in the kitchen. She likes to touch the food, sniff the food, and throw the food. She won't it eat though. She's like me in that she likes to see the pretty colors and smell the smells but not necessarily eat everything.
*Snarky comment about idiot sperm donor removed*
Sigh....
I guess the point of my morning rant is that this blog has become my way of exercising my a-hole muscle. People get on my nerves and I have found myself capable of making the most rude remarks.
I got chastised on Facebook yesterday for threatening to curse idiot boy. He's freaking out because he thinks he got another twenty year old pregnant and I just....well....just....
mentioned that it is possible to....
uh....
curse him so that he can't...
swell and play so much.
His mother is a bruja (mexican witch). I think this is why he thinks I'm a witch.
He threw a tantrum on Christmas day. The next day I get a call over here asking me what I did to him.
I don't have to do a damn thing. He's dumb. He's only hurting himself.
Why would I waste a black candle on a dork muffin like that?
The stupid things people say...
Why does he think I'm a witch? Besides the gossip from my sister there is another reason.
I study herbology and study various religious traditions as hobbies. When he mentioned a soup his mother makes for the holidays and gave me the recipe, I refused to make it because it was a love spell.
It was.
I mean, really.....
who puts damaina in soup?
I'm not serving that up in a house full of teenage young ladies.
I don't want to spend the rest of my life wiping up baby boogers.
I need to send that intention out to the universe.
No babies without sex. If I'm going to be cursed like that, I want to be warm at night.
Got it?
Okay....done...
I'm thinking of a new way to take this crappy piece of writing.
Cleaning the basement, I found an old educational game I bought for one of the kids. It was a fishing game. It came with a little magnetic pole and hundreds of fish that had nouns and verbs written on them.
The object of the game was to fish out a noun and a verb in order to learn more vocabulary words. The child was to write a story around the words.
I'm thinking of trying that just to have something less annoying to write about. Maybe, instead of flexing my b!tching muscle, I need to work out my creative one.
Maybe I'll fish out a couple of words and at it to the end of my post. We'll see...
Love ya,
S.
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