Scary Mommy

Why the hell can't people just freakin' behave? 

Why the hell can't people with Ph.ds in education understand basic child developmental psychology? 

Seriously....

I'm really tired of hearing about single mothers paying out fines because some dork muffin teacher thought their kid cussed and had a police officer write a ticket. 

I'm tired of seeing children of color handcuffed and harassed because some administrator didn't like the way they were looking at them. 

I'm tired of bullying admins harassing teachers in front of the kids and wondering where kids learn to disrespect their teachers. 

Yep...I still research bullying in governmental jobs.  It's worse in public schools than our local tax audit departments. 

This is getting old. 

Yesterday, an eleven year old girl was carted off to a holding facility because she ran to her locker to get something.  She said it was a sweater but I'm wondering if it was something more important than that.  She was confronted by a male admin who refused to let her go to her locker.  When the girl said she didn't have time to deal with the admin, he called the cops. 

The officers handcuffed the little girl.  She was left with bruises.  Mind you, if a parent had done something like that, the parent would face charges of child abuse.


Now...when I was eleven.  I had girl issues.  If I were bleeding and feared it was going to leak, I wouldn't have time for an ass. principal's bull either.  I'd run to my locker and grab a pad.  It never caused a stir. 

I wouldn't feel comfortable discussing it with a man....not at that age.  Crap, I don't think anyone I dated before getting married was ever privy to that kind private information.  Young women like to keep things under wraps, if you know what I mean.

How do we know why the young lady was in a hurry to get to her locker? 

I'm guessing it was a private issue....

Hmmmmm.....

Since when do overpaid morons get to call the police and waste taxpayer money carting off a child for trying to retrieve her belongings at school? 

It wasn't five years ago, I was blogging about male security guards yanking girls out of the local high school bathroom during unannounced security sweeps.  I was pissed.  I was afraid of a young girl getting raped. 

I called the school a gulag.  The principal was gone the next year and the hall sweeps are now a thing of the past. 

It's time to stop the crap. 

Research shows that police officers at school undermine education and reduce moral (just Google it...justicepolicy.org).

I'm irritated. 

I don't want to be an education activist again...but maybe...if I have to stay in this damn state, it is what I'm meant to do.   Last time I was an activist, the idiots on the school board tried to bribe me.  When that didn't work, they threatened my daughter. 

Then they pissed off my ex-husband. 

It didn't go so well for them.  He's mean. 

I'm funny.  I found a way to freak with their test scores....and got the last laugh. 

Ha...ha...ha....

The public school admins will remember me if I get back into the activism game.   

Yep...

They used to snicker and call me The Scary Mommy. 

Don't make me come back. 

I had one school shut down.  I'm such a freakin' stinker.  They allowed a kid to break my daughter's front teeth.  Shutting the school down was the least I could do. 

My methods have matured now.  I still has the same flaming red hair and evil grin.  My eyes are greener and meaner.  I have less money but more political connections.

Scary Mommy has different tricks up her sleeve now. 

She'll take over the board and gut the funding. 

I'm serious....don't piss me off.   I still have the ability to sell sea water to a thirsty guy sailing a raft in the Pacific.  What can I sell the politicians? 

Do school officials want to press their luck?   If I'm mad, there are thousands more outraged citizens standing beside me. 

I'll see what I can do to get idiot boy assistant principal fired.  Sometimes, it is just an issue of putting the idea out in the collective.  I mean, how many people are looking for work right now?  How many people are more qualified for that job?  How many people have more patience and more education? 

I think he can be let go. 

I have noticed that he's had a lot of teachers putting comments on public forums during school hours.....wasting taxpayer money....hmmm.....that would be a great place to start. 

Stupid man....

Be good now. 

Love ya,

S.

Edit 3/7/12 - I decided to reach out to the child's mother.  The school officials are slandering her and the little girl.  Maybe it would be best to stand strong behind her and validate her feelings. 

I'm still irritated about all those stories I heard while knocking on doors during my campaign for office...I'm moving anyway.  I can always move over a couple of miles and run for the school board.

I know the people on the school board here, they're good and caring souls.  The one's on the other side of the city, well...they need some help. 

I'm tempted...

Love,

S. 

Exercising My B!tch Muscle

So....

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.

Bottom Feeding Scum

Another day....

Another false DMCA take-down request. 

Muso.com thinks my self-help recordings are owned by a heavy metal band. 

I could rock their world better than that happy metal band but I've got better things to do now than to play on an axe and my keyboard.

So, I just tell my politico friends who liked SOPA. 

Now...I've got YouTube going at me. 

Yep, apparently a company called GoDigital Media Group thinks it owns my voice and the sound of the birds chirping outside my home in the wee hours of the morning. 

They've put commercials on my free self-help videos. 

I wonder where all the money goes from the advertising.  Can I sue them to have it diverted to the charity of my choice?

I asked and am waiting for a reply.  If the reply is any fun, I'll post it below. 

This is insane. 

These little bottom feeding scum want dough for my work.  Imagine the irony.  They are b!tching that people are stealing other artists' work, so they get crap laws passed that allow them to steal the work of other artists by claiming that they own it. 

I love karma.  They won't stop harassing people.  It was only a matter of time before they irritated a red-headed libertarian activist with political connections. 

Stupid....morons....

I've stopped doing free recordings for people due to the harassment.  I haven't posted one in over a month. 

It's kinda sad. 

Hope these companies go out of business soon.  They are killing the Internet.

Perhaps it's time to file more counter claims. 

It is giving me quite the laugh though. 

Really....I didn't know the little birdies I feed every morning are signed with an agency. 

Wow!

What do you know?  I wonder if GoDigital got them to peck at the legal documents or stamp their little birdie feet in ink.  How does a corporation get a few birds to give them the rights to their little chirping sounds? 

What did they pay them? 

I give the birds my homemade bread made into crumbs with little sprouting seeds. 

That's why they sound so good for me. 


Love ya,

S.

Decisions Decisions

So....

Last weekend, the police department ignored a plea for help in a domestic violence case and two young children nearly died.

In a legal document I have, an attorney representing the city claimed that throwing a woman into a wall does not qualify as an act of domestic violence.  I'm debating posting that online in the hopes that it helps educate those that protect families from domestic violence.  

This was repeated again in a deposition with me last June. Anticipating that, I put together a little booklet to educate the lawyers about domestic violence.  When I tried educated them as to the nature of domestic violence, the city attorney's representative told me that it was inappropriate.  So...

I won't do it.  I'll let the public do it for me. 


I avoided publishing those depositions to protect the privacy of Mike's former supervisor. 

She isn't qualified for the job she has based upon the job description on the city website.  So, she had to get every person more qualified than her fired in order to secure a position paying $90,000+ per year with benefits. 

To get rid of Mike she did the following.

She spread rumors that he beat me.

She told her boss he threw me into a wall. 

Then, she ran around lying about his absences and tardies.

Then, according to another supervisor, she lied and said that he was sleeping on the job....when NO ONE ELSE SAW IT!  I was told she'd run into the finance director's office, claim Mike was sleeping, and people would run to his cubicle only to find him working. 

Yet...the city attorney lies about it.  The HR doesn't follow federal law.

Mike told them that he had sleep apnea, yet they did not fill out the required HR forms.

I understand the need to thin the herd.  I don't understand why they'd put the taxpayers at risk of paying out lawsuits based on abusing federal law.

Then, they gave him a crazy quota (unethical) and then only 60 days to meet it.  They illegally fined him $500 and fired him 58 days into the contract claiming that he abused me.

Stealing my $500 pisses me off the most.  The funds that were used to pay that illegal fine came from a loan.  I have to pay that back.  I want my money back. 

I asked why they thought they could steal my money.  In response, one of the damn city lawyers started to harass me on the telephone, claiming that I should know he has sleep apnea because I sleep with him every night.  Little did she know, that was far from the truth.  We've slept apart quite a bit since '00-'01.

When this former victim's advocate tried to point out that sleeping on the job, tardiness and not concentrating could very well point to HIM being a victim of domestic violence.

The freakin' assistant city attorney scoffed.

Then, another lawyer started to ridicule me in a hearing.  I'm so happy that they think fibromyalgia is a joke.  I'm not laughing.  I never let my swollen muscles get me down.  If I can't move, I can always scheme. 

I also learned that his boss told him to stalk me at school during the work day.  It is interesting what one sees when she actually reads the drivel spewed out by lawyers and lying supervisors in court hearings. 

If his boss thought I was abused, why in the heck would she do such a thing?

She's uneducated about domestic violence.  Many of the city attorneys are uneducated when it comes to violence against women.

It wasn't six months ago when I chastised one for prosecuting a women arrested for saying a word meaning vagina while reporting a rape because the cop was offended.  I'd tell the cop to grow some nards but maybe I'd get arrested, too. 

Women usually have more balls than men. 
Actually, I think the female cop that arrested her has unresolved victim issues.  She sure made the city look like a bunch of fools.  I told the HR guy to tell people about the EAP (free counseling for employees) but NO!  He doesn't think it's necessary. 

What a stupid, lazy.....uh.....uh.... chicken. 

I don't know what the heck these idiots are doing.  Do they?
What in the heck does the city attorney think he's doing? 

Don't they prosecute domestic violence?

They don't know what they are doing... so...

Perhaps...it's time to share what I have.


Anyway....in this city, domestic violence is a cash cow.  They can fine people for kicking in their doors.  They can collect funds and send people to expensive classes.

They don't protect those in severe danger  nor do they help those who work for us.   The city does not  do a darn thing to help their employees when they are victims of domestic violence.

If they suspect the employee abuses his spouse, they just harass and try to intimidate the holy hell out of the victim. 

Hmmmmm....they never studied Lundy Bancroft, did they?

Victims of domestic violence are resilient.  They are survivors.  They can take on the biggest tasks quite successfully because nothing will scare them as much as the crap they endure at home. 

They are just the kind of people to sue the holy hell out of a legal team, start a PAC to drive the council members who sent her nasty emails mad, and run for the office of the dork muffin who told the city council to ignore her. 

Don't ya think? 

Am I freakin' with you?  Or am I serious? 

I'm just being obnoxious.  It may make a rather fun work of fiction. 

Until then, I may have to publish all those scanned documents now just to get the conversation going.  I'll put together a Hub page and re-post my old blog. 

Or your HR guy can reread those emails I sent back in '08 and act on them.  If he deleted them, no worries....they'll be back online by the end of the week. 

Love ya,

S.

The New Bible

Last August, I saw something on Facebook that hurt me. 

A young man left me at seventeen.  He came back looking for me, but I knew he deserved better so I pretended not to notice him.  I chose to let him find someone better. 

Last August, though, when other women would try to get to know him, he invoked his exes. 

That hurt me. 

How in the heck is he going to find someone better if he's constantly bellyaching about us? 

My face must be the reason. 

The picture on his feed must be why he thought of me. 

I unfriended him.  I gave him an explanation.  I will always care deeply for him, so I must give him space. 

I don't know if he cares. 

My religion is odd.  I still refer to the old ways, to the ways of the man who raised me to believe that there are unseen ties between people.  We are tied to each other when we think of each other.  Thoughts tie us together.  Objects tie us together.  Dreams tie us together.   Love ties us together.

If I don't think of him,

if I don't own anything he gave me,  

if I can drink enough to keep him out of my dreams,

then maybe I can stop loving him and cut the tie. 

I unfriended him on Facebook. 

I threw away my cell phone. 

I drink the dreams away. 

I threw away everything I can find that he ever gave me. 

That ought to cut the ties. 

The hardest thing to throw away was the Bible he gave me when I was sixteen.

It went everywhere I did. 

I held it after my sex assault.  In fact, I spent weeks reading it, page after page trying to find hope that there was a God who had a better plan for me. 

It went with me on vacations. 

It was with me when my boyfriend at the time surprised me with a minister and a dress. 

It was with me when he beat me into unconsciousness. 

It was with me when I lay in the hospital trying to recover from the subdural hemotoma. 

When the doctor mixed my MRI up with that of a brain cancer patient, I held it as I heard that I had six months to live.

Six months later, when I went to another neurologist and learned that my name wasn't the one on the MRI, I reread that book in joy.

I took it with me to the battered woman's shelter. 

It was with me when I lived in my car. 

It was one of the few constants in my life. 

After twenty-five years, the cover had torn apart. 

I loved that book. 

But, alas, it reminded me of HIM.

So, I threw it out in a heart-wrenching moment of trying to do the right thing. 

I bought another one and put it in the spot the former book lay on the nightstand by my bed. 

After six months, I decided to tear the plastic off of the old book. 

I opened it for the first time last night. 

I prayed and asked for guidance. 

I swore up and down that the first verse I saw would be the one I would meditate upon. 

I opened it up to the Song of Soloman 5:6

I opened for my beloved.
But my beloved had turned away and was gone.
I sought him, but I could not find him:
I called him but he gave me no answer.

Damn....now, it reminds me of him all over again. 

I feel asleep with the book, meditating on love and loss.  I found myself pondering the phrase

"Do not stir up nor awaken love until it pleases..." 

and wondering about my prayers to find love.  Twice, I found what I thought was love but it always turned out to be little more than a painful lesson. 

Both times, I'd catch myself missing my old friend.

Both times, I felt ashamed for still loving my old friend.

This morning,   I woke up from dreaming of painting a portrait of my old friend.  Each stroke was a wish for his well-being.

Upon opening my eyes and finding it on my pillow, I dog-eared the page and set the book on my night stand.  Something fell off the table. 

I lean down to retrieve it. 

It was a piece of the old Bible.  A piece of the black corner had broken off.  I'll use it as a bookmark. 

Today is a challenging day for me.  My daughter's fiancee left her for another.  I'm torn on what to do.  I can stay in this house and offer her free daycare or I can move away, pay my portion of the rent and give her father my old room.  He lives in the basement apartment.  It would be good for a young mother to live there rent-free until she can get on her feet. 

I will probably spend the day praying for guidance.  

Love ya,

S. 

Three Wishes for a Rapist

I'm not sure if any of those little lamps, necklaces, rocks and other fun stuff from that are sent to me from all over the world are real.

I've been told I have a Djinn or two. 

So....

I wish...

I wish...

I wish Perrish Cox's cock would perish and fall off. 

I mean, what a name!!  How in the world did his mother predict that hoards of angry women would wish that man's cock would Perrish....Perrish Cox...yes, we want that!  Kill his ugly rooster! 

http://www.denverpost.com/breakingnews/ci_20088034

Oh, and if it possible, please send the biggest, scariest, foulest, most disease ridden incubus to visit him each and every night, the ladies of Denver would be much, much safer from his roofie laced cocktails.  Tear Cox a new @$$.  Break Cox's coccyx, so he can never play football again, let alone make another bad pass at a woman. 

If another football team is dumb enough to hire him, they deserve to lose all their games.  A team is only as strong as its weakest link.  Perrish Cox is a loser thus, prepare to lose.

And if you want to go after his defense lawyer and bankrupt his firm, consider that my third wish.   

Whenever a rapist gets off the hook, those of us who have endured the injustice of a man who can't take no for an answer get a little irritated.  We cry for justice. 

We are stronger than the rapists. 
Most men like their ladies live....obviously, Perrish Cox is a chicken-shit little boy who is only comfortable making women unconscious before abusing them.  Since Cox can buy a jury, we best pray he pays in other ways.


Thank you. 


Love,

Siegfred

The Lies We Tell

So....

I had a drunken epiphany at 2:00 in the morning. 

The teenager pulled a fast one. 

Oh...crap....she pulled a really fast one. 

She didn't have school today. 

Why? 

Well, it was parent teacher conference time. 

I never was notified. 

Her Dad knew nothing about it. 

She hid the forms. 

I confronted her.  She denied everything.  She has her father's skill for lying. 

She claimed that she didn't know what I'm talking about. 

I'm just paranoid. 

First, she said there were no conferences. 

Then, she said she lost the form. 

Losing my patience, I corrected her.  The way I see it, she must have a lot of F's that she's afraid of letting me know about. 

This is an ongoing issue.  I want the school to hold her back a year but her teachers refuse. 

She needs to learn to be honest.  She needs to learn to respect her teachers and her parents. 

She needs to learn that lying doesn't help anything. 

We started talking about lying.

I'm a liar.  I lie to myself all the time. 

I lie to everyone else all the time, too. 

My lies are

"I'm okay."

"I'll be fine tonight."

"I don't love you anymore."

"I don't love him anymore."

"I'm not interested in developing any relationship with a member of the opposite sex."

"Mike and I are happy living here for the sake of the children."

"Mike is easy to live with and I can do this another ten years."

"I like sleeping alone because I can wear a whole range of beauty products to bed without explaining myself."

"I like being a mesmerist, so I don't want to earn my state licensure."

"I like being a size twelve."

"Women don't want or need sex."

"If it were a perfect world, I'd be a vegan (uh....if I had what I wanted, I would ingest an animal by-product more often than I care to admit)."

"I truly believe that staying here is the right thing to do (while omitting my regret that kids won't see a happy relationship and that it kills me that the eldest is trapped in the same type of relationship with an obese and irresponsible man who is trying to get her to quit school....what did I teach her to put up with?  Damn....)."

"I like whips (while my dislike of hitting horses with them always allows the animal to control the ride and I am rarely on the actual trail)."

I lie to myself all the time. 

Some truths are never meant to be shared but do I have the right to complain about a child copying what she sees happening around her? 

Maybe I need to start being more honest with myself. 

I'm in pain. 

It is unbearable. 

I work out an hour a day in order to get rid of my angries.  If I miss my workout, I get mad at myself and go out of my way to avoiding eating.  The more elaborate meal I make for everyone else in the house, the angrier I am at myself and the less likely I will be to eat any of it. 

I want a job.  I want my business back. 

I miss intimacy.  I'm alone and afraid to get involved with another person for fear of hurting him. 

I hate politics so much.  I was raised by a Cherokee and told to honor nature.  When I go hiking, I do pick up various pieces of garbage and haul it out of the park.  I want to volunteer with the city next week cleaning up our open space but fear having my reputation as an a-hole government hating loony ruined by a reporter with a camera. 

My entire life is one big lie. 

That's the truth. 

Hmmmmmm......

Maybe I'll try harder to be honest when I'm one on one with the people I love and trust. 

Maybe...

My body language always gives me away. 

Some lies must be told to keep the peace. 

I don't know. 

I'll ponder it. 

Love ya,

S.


Edit:

Well....when I saw her father this evening, I told him that I didn't understand the compulsive lying thing as I'm the type of person to tell people to suck rocks and eat dirt. 

I rarely hold things back.   

He sat down with her and got to the root of the problem. 

Shame. 

People in his family lie when they are ashamed. 

She has no reason to be ashamed of her grades. 

Then I overheard him tell her that I'm an expert in the soft sciences, psychology, social science, anthropology, geology, religion, history, and politics. 

He's a math and science whiz, so her bases are covered. 

He complimented me. 

He actually complimented me. 

There are days when I simply wish things between us could heal....that he could finish up his inner journey and find his way back to me

but...it's time to return back to this pseudo-reality. 

This blog is half lies...half the truth. 

When I hear gossip about myself, I write about it as though it were true.  Maybe I'm hoping to create a fictional character out of it.   The problem, though, is that people don't appreciate getting made fun of and the gossips are giving me less and less material as time goes by. 

There are times when I find this 'character' coming out in my daily life.  There are times when I write this thing and find that it inspires a scheme of sorts to come into being.  It's weird getting into this character. 

I figure that Seigfred must be my alter ego of sorts, my shadow....the bitchy little witchy that wants to seduce filthy, nasty, powerful men and tear all their a**'s into little, tiny, stinky bits.   

And then tithe to the nearest church and beg for forgiveness.  

There is not need to attack idiots...they are usually pretty good at messing up their plans all on their own. 

If I had just one dollar for every person that said I was positive, thoughtful, and sickly sweet....the soup kitchen would be doing just fine....in real life, I am said to be sweet.

Sweet......

until you piss me off. 

Love ya.

S.