So, this 100 thing,

1) I have four tattoos. Two of them are 'jailhouse' tatts. I may have them enhanced, but I'll never have them covered. They remind me of where I've been and keep me humble.

2) My daughter is my hero. She got pregnant at 13. She had my grandson at 14. She is 23, has a bachelor's in psychology and working at a great job. She raised her son. She got his bills paid/needs met. I can't believe I made her.

3) When I came home from the head-behind-the-seat fiasco, I was a mess. One of my two closest friends used to be my drug dealer. He's the only drug dealer I have ever known who had ethics. He bought food for people. He never sold to kids. He never sold to pregnant women. He takes care of his family. All of them. He and his wife got me off drugs. He's been there any time I have ever needed him. He was there when no one else cared. He never expected anything except honesty and integrity in return. He taught me not to judge a book by its cover. He will forever have my loyalty and love.
4) I don't like jelly with my peanut butter sandwiches.

5) I sort Skittles into pairs. Green with purple. Orange with yellow. Red stands alone. I give the extras away.

6) I am rarely without socks on my feet.

7) I've had my 15 minutes of fame, and let me tell you, it ain't all it's cracked up to be.

8) My favorite smell ever is a brand new box of Crayola crayons.

9) My second favorite smell is that of old books.

10) My favorite ice cream really is vanilla.

11) I love animals of all sorts, but I am partial to cats.

12) The first 'grown-up' book I ever read was Johnathan Livingston Seagull. I was 8, it made me cry.

13) I made hide-a-ways in my closets until I was 12. I'd go in there, turn on the lights, snuggle into a pile of pillows and read. Books took me out of my body. It was the one place where I could shut out the cacophony that was my young life.

14) I've only had one cavity my entire life.

15) I love making people laugh.

16) I'm a down ass bitch for those I love.

17) I have PTSD caused by long-term, repeated, severe stress.

18) I love to cook and bake. Seeing people have mouth orgasms makes me happy.

19) I watch far too much crime porn, aka ID Channel.

20) I haven't shopped in Walmart in over 8 years. I detest everything they are and everything they represent.

21) Life has turned me into a really resourceful person.

22) Gene Wilder, fuck Johnny Depp.

23) My brother walked in my bedroom, unannounced, when I was 18. I was getting it in the pooper. I've never lived it down.

24) My favorite band is The Afghan Whigs.

25) I love the 'Dusties' genre of music. Sixties and seventies R&B. Some of it pretty obscure.

26) I roll my own cigarettes. That skill has served me well in the strangest of places.

27) I love sitting on the porch in the sun, talking to people passing by.

28) I love to drive. Fast.

29) I prefer a manual transmission. I remember when my dad taught me to drive. He took me out on a steep incline and made me practice until I could use nothing except the clutch to keep the car from rolling backwards.

30) My love of the game show Jeopardy! comes from my dad. We used to watch it together almost every afternoon. I'm good, but he kicked my ass. He was one of the smartest men I have ever known.
31) I still talk to my kids' father's mother. She always has a bag or two of stuff for me. It's weird, she's crazy, but I love her frustrating ass.

32) If I had a Most Excellent Moment, it would have to be the time I was backstage at a George Clinton concert, he asked to buy my t-shirt, I told him no. He got lippy and I popped off to him. One of his band members, a guitarist of sorts, thought it was hysterical and proceeded to drag me out onto the stage and made me sit there for the entire set.

33) I'm a Leo, with an Aquarius Moon, a Libra Ascendant and a Mars in Scorpio, conjunct Neptune. Oh, I'm an astrologer, too.

34) I'm fascinated with real life monsters.

35) I don't eat Jell-O. I hate the way it feels in my mouth.

36) I've had some real bullshit go down in my life, but, honestly, I don't think I'd change a thing if I could. Everything I've experienced has made me me and I think I'm pretty fucking alright.

37) I'm a closet NASCAR fan. My uncle raced stock cars locally all through my childhood. My stepdad and uncle were on his pit crew. My mom drove his car for special, ladies races. He let me hang out with him in the garage while he tinkered with his cars. It also explains my love for old, muscle cars.

38) I'm a very tactile person. How something feels is more important than how it looks. It could be beautiful, but if it doesn't feel good, I don't want it.

39) I'll bait my own hook, but I prefer not to have to gut/clean any fish caught. Blech.

40) I think Chris 'Ludacris' Bridges is under-rated as an entertainer.

41) I've never seen a Star Wars movie from beginning to end.

42) My favorite Sci-fi series is Planet Of The Apes.

43) I'm the oldest of five siblings. Two 'half' brothers from my dad, and two from my mom. I'm the only girl.

44) My dad had a tattoo on his left forearm of a robin with a ribbon in its mouth. My name was written in that ribbon, in fancy Olde English lettering.

45) I think my mom was an untreated/undiagnosed bipolar person.

46) I have a no bullshit policy. I won't bullshit you, and you don't bullshit me. Even if we don't want to hear it.

47) My kids are half Black. One is a Muslim. The other is gay.

48) I worked as an EMT for two years, before I had my kids.

49) I completed a 5 year apprenticeship with the Pipefitter's union after my kids were born. There were 96 apprentices in my class. I was the only female. I graduated top 10% of my class.

50) I skipped 6th grade. I finished the year in 5th grade, and started the next year in 7th grade. I was all, "Fuck yeah, one less year!", and didn't ask any questions.

51) My favorite colors to look at are purples and yellows. My favorite color to wear is pink.
 
52) My ex forced me to run his escort service. I was damned good at it, too.

53) I think I'm telling you people far too much shit.

54) When I was 8 I had dreams of being a marine biologist/dolphin trainer. Ah, the innocence of 8.

55) I've never had a "dream wedding" scenario. I don't reckon I've ever had much real thought about marriage other than, "Meh."

56) I'm cool with my partner dipping off. I need to know about it. He needs to wear his raincoat in the shower and everyone needs to know I'm the #1 bitch. I don't expect anybody to bend to my will. Either you can live with it, or you can't. It's the only way I roll.
57) I love to point out pretty women to my guy friends. The looks on their faces always make me laugh.

58) My panties and bra never match.

59) I like mating socks after they're washed. It soothes me.

60) I'm a night owl. People say I keep vampire hours.

61) I like my coffee very light and very sweet and I only drink one cup.

62) This list has me wracking my brain.

63) My kids are only 13 months apart.

64) I was in labor for 69 1/2 hours with my son. Asshole doctors.

65) I prefer my burgers without cheese.

66) I do NOT eat bologna.

67) My dream car is a midnight blue, rag top '68 GTO.

68) My favorite cookie is an Oreo and my favorite candy bar is a Whatchamacallit.

69) When I die, I'd rather leave behind memories instead of keepsakes.

70) I'm finally at a point that I am content with my life and who I've turned out to be.

71) Meems is my best. girl. friend. ever.

72) I'm eating a hamburger right now.

73) I try not to let my mouth write checks my ass can't cash.

74) When I started my apprenticeship my stepdad gave me one piece of advice, "Don't shit where you eat." He was right.

75) I make the bed with proper 'hospital corners'.

76) I hate washing silverware and I've never lived in a place that had a dishwasher.

77) I love the sights and sounds of the ghetto. There's life here.

78) I admit, I get twitchy when the internet goes down.

79) I have a psychotic fucking hatred for vibrators.

80) I always give back the wrong change if given it at the register. I can't deal with the guilt if I don't. I once gave a cashier in the currency exchange a $200 mistake that she made. She nearly cried.

81) I don't understand why Californians build houses on the sides of mountains where there are signs at the bottom warning about mudslides. Mudslides? Seriously? What about the fucking house slides?

82) I once watched an ER doctor crack a guys chest, reach in and pull out his heart and manually stimulate it in an attempt to save his life.

83) I've ridden in a car with a severed human head, wrapped in a trash bag, behind my seat.

84) I've spent time in jail and it's my opinion that people don't know shit about the justice system.

85) Is this shit almost over?

86) Until my daughter bought me a necklace last year, my nose ring was the only piece of jewelry I ever wore.

87) I'm poor, but I'm content.

88) My only reality show indulgence is Mob Wives. Them bitches throw down.

89) I really didn't think I'd get this far with this list.

90) I rarely use my phone and smartphones intimidate me.

91) I only have 9 more to go, bitches! In yo face!

92) Is anyone bored yet?

93) I secretly hope a lot of people respond to this. I really want people to like me.

94) There are a handful of people in my life, that no matter what they or I do, I believe we can get through it and love each other forever.

95) People tend to look at my life and say, "Geez, what dumb luck." I look at my life and say, "Geez, I'm a really lucky motherfucker."

96) These last four are going to kill me.

97) I am just as blunt in r/l as I am online.

98) I'd rather sit in candlelight than bulb light.

99) I really love watching cartoons. I'm a bit of an aficionado.

100) I was hoping for something witty to say, but I got nothing. Thanks for wading through all that.

KONY 2012

Joseph Kony is the leader of the LRA, a rebel group in Uganda that kidnaps children and turns them into murderers and rape victims.

The ICC has issued a warrant for his arrest for crimes against humanity. It is estimated that his group, the LRA, has kidnapped over 30,000 children in more than two decades of terror--turning them into murderers and sex slaves.

He has to be stopped.

Invisible Children is behind this campaign. You can order your KONY 2012 kit here: Kony kit

We cannot let our government ease up.

"Stuff an apple in yer maw and take a pic!" she says.

So, it started out simple enough. A challenge.


"Stuff an apple in yer maw and take a pic!", she says.


Of course, I can't just simply stuff an apple in my maw. No, I've got to dress it up.

Then, someone spotted the uvula and someone else thought they said vulva.


Shit morphed.

Then, teh impy one suggested stuffing her mouth might be fun.

Now, it's some fucked up Human Centipede-esque insanity involving apples and gherkins and Sharpies.

Spent & used with pickle splooge dripping down her sunny, yellow skin, we say goodbye to applebaby.


I shouldn't be allowed to mingle with people. Ever.

F**k you. Jail is not "better than".

It really bugs the shit out of me when I see/hear people say things like "jails are better than ____".

No, they're not. Really. They're not.

Let's start with the food, shall we?

There's the breakfast that comes at 3:30am. Cold. Most times it's dry cereal, two slices of bread, a milk and a juice. Once in a while there's powdered eggs. We won't discuss what these do to one's digestive tract. Sometimes, there's waffles. Taken straight out of the freezer and tossed on a tray. Maybe there's butter and syrup. Maybe there isn't. If you've never eaten a raw waffle, let me tell you, it's an experience. For lunch you have the famous bologna "choke" sandwiches consisting of four slices of bread, two completely soggy, two slices of retch-inducing bologna, a packet of sugar-free kool-aid mix and some small snack. These are served 365 days a year. No exceptions. Ever. Dinner is much like breakfast and lunch, only worse.

Let's talk clothing now, ok?

You're issued two uniforms. The administration tries to do a uniform exchange once a week. This means you're issued one clean uniform a week. Mostly, anyway. You sleep in this uniform, you go to court in this uniform, you eat in this uniform. Your undergarments? Your problem. There are no washing machines in jail. Washing is done in the toilet. The toilet, you ask? Yes. The sinks cannot be stopped up to hold water. They're also very tiny, with faucets that have to be held to work. Buckets are not allowed. This leaves the toilet. Ice cold water, soap, and your unmentionables--rub-a-dub-dub two socks, a bra, and panties in the toilet bowl.

Now, for the sleeping arrangements.

You're issued one bed mat. It's approximately 3" of blue foam, wrapped in heavy plastic, mostly with a sinkhole dead in the middle. You're issued one set of sheets. Two flat sheets, one pillowcase (for which there is no pillow), and one wool blanket, replete with moth holes. This bedding is laid on a steel-grate framed bed. This is where your slumber occurs. In between the every-two-hours "Move something, shake something!" wake-up calls, that is.

Let's chat a little about seeing a doctor, mmk?

It could take up to three months to see a doctor. This is even for very obvious issues. Sure, there's an emergency room, but unless someone thinks you'll die in your sleep, no one wants to do the paperwork to send you.

Now, dear reader, let's get personal.

There's the women that look like men and make dildos from rubber gloves and kotex. Rape is entirely possible. Harassment is rampant. Protection is non-existent.

There's the showers in either freezing cold or scalding hot water. The 'state issued' soap that, literally, burns your skin as you wash. This is also to be used on your hair. Make sure you wear your shoes, though. Athlete's foot is just a shower away. Razors? Ha! Leg-hair and armpit hair are your friends. This is a good thing, though, because you'll need the extra fur to keep you warm when the heat barely works and the air-conditioning works too good. Can we talk about the state issued toothpaste that gets used as glue and eats paint off the walls? Did you know there's no toilet seats in jails? Yeah, you sit directly on either cold stainless steel or cold porcelain, and you had better not forget 'poop etiquette' or you might get your ass kicked by your cellmate who is located 3ft. from where you're shitting.

The financial rape that is 'commissary' should enrage everyone. Bottles of $.99 shampoo being sold for $3, 3/$1 bars of soap being sold for $1/ea., $.25 bags of chips going for $.75. All this profit, where is it going? You want shampoo? You want soap that doesn't burn? You want sanitary napkins that don't cause a rash? You want deodorant? You need new socks? A t-shirt? Non-toxic toothpaste? Those lovely, wallet-raping bastards called 'commissary' have everything you need at a 200% mark-up.

Then, there's the awesomeness that is regular strip searches. Oh yes, lift your tits, lift your stomach, bend over and spread your ass cheeks, then, squat and cough, simultaneously, arms outstretched at your sides. Every time you leave your housing unit for any reason, a strip search is going down. Sometimes, it goes down just because. Oh, did I mention the lesbians they have overseeing this process? Now, I'm all down for all sexualities, but having a lesbian strip searching women is really not much different than having a man strip search a female. The attraction to females is the same with either gender and just as disconcerting.

Sometimes, there's even mocking involved. Actually, there's a lot of mocking and bullying going on in these places. By staff as well as detainees. Pressuring for sexual favors by male staff is always around.

This is just the tip of the iceberg atop a plethora of issues.

This, folks, is what jail is like.

The kicker? These people are not yet convicted. So, no matter how much you yammer on about them just being criminals, remember, under the law they are innocent until proven guilty. Even if that means only 20% of the people being housed in a facility are actually found not guilty, that is 20% that were treated like human waste. Housed, fed, clothed, and treated deplorably. Jails are not 'better than' anything except, maybe, a cardboard box on lower Wacker Drive.

So, the next time you want to pop off with some stupid shit resembling "jails are cushy", run the following things through your head, alrighty?

• Imagine being repulsed by what constitutes as food, to the point of actually retching when attempting to eat, as many as 3x in a single day. Imagine your hunger.

• Imagine walking around smelling because it's been 11 days since you were issued a clean uniform. You must be appropriately dressed at all times. Imagine your embarrassment.

• Imagine being mocked for smelling terrible, and it's beyond your control. Imagine the frustration.

• Imagine being mocked and/or sexually harassed when strip searched. Imagine that level of humiliation.

• Imagine being cuffed and chained everywhere you go. Sometimes, out into public. Like an offsite hospital. Imagine the humiliation of having the general public stare at you, pull back their children, whisper in hushes and generally humiliate you-publicly. Imagine how you'd feel.

• Imagine having a tooth abscess and having to wait 6 weeks to get to a doctor for an antibiotic. Imagine the pain you'd suffer.

• Imagine being awakened every two hours while you sleep at night. Imagine the sheer exhaustion you might feel.

• Imagine having 59 other people in a single room with you. All fighting for one television. With censored channels. Imagine the noise level of those 59 people and you and the tv and the fights over card games and the on-the-sly sexual shit going on all around you. Imagine always having to be on guard.

• Imagine, through all of this, you know you're innocent.

Then, you need to sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up and pray/cross your fingers/snap like Bert from SOAP and hope it's never you.

Parenting, my way.

Everyone seems to be up in arms about this dad and him shooting up this computer.

OK, since I'm one of those folks who likes to make points hit home and I tend to gear punishments in that direction, here goes.

Had this been in my home, this computer would have been destroyed and not sold.

First, the computer would have been one of those items I deem 'on loan'. On loan because I want to retain control of it. If my kids didn't get it as a present, it was one of those things that were on loan from me.

Now, in this video he stated this had happened before. If my kids did something I deemed stupid on the internet? And they'd done this before? I'd have warned her already that if it happens again, the computer gets drowned.

See, if you're going to be disrespectful of the use of my things? I'm going to make you do a truly disrespectful thing--destroy my shit, willfully, with your own hands. In my face.

I'm going to have the bathtub, filled with water when she gets home. She'd have to go get the laptop and put it in the bathtub in front of me.

If you're going to be disrespectful (and IMO humiliating someone wrongfully in public is disrespectful), do it my face. Look at me while you hurt me. See what you're doing.

My son told me he hated me once. He was 8. I was so angry and so hurt. I wanted him to know how he'd made me feel.

I decided I was going to have him write, 100 times, "I hate you, mom." The exact words he'd said to me.

Not only was he made to write it, he was made to look at me in the eyes after writing every sentence and say it, out loud, while looking at me. IN THE EYES.

He needed to understand that words hurt. Hurting him with my words wasn't the answer, but hurting him with his was.

He got about 15 lines in and, under his breath, he whispered, "You punk."

I made him add it to the sentence.

About 45 lines in, he started to cry. He begged me not to make him tell me that he hated me anymore. I made him finish and we had a long talk afterwards. He understood then, that words can be worse than weapons.

I wanted my son to understand that no matter what he is feeling, that saying 'I hate you!" is not appropriate. If you don't 'hate' me, don't tell me that.

Tell me you're angry. I wanted him to understand that saying 'I hate you' is some serious fucking shit to say to someone.

Better he learn now than if his friend walks out in the middle of a fight, a fight where he said something he didn't mean, the friend gets hit by a car and dies and my kid regrets his fucking words. Before they ring in his ears forever.

Don't say it unless you're prepared to deal with the consequences. If I saved him some regret later on by instilling in him to THINK before he speaks, then, I did my job as a parent.

So, yes, I would have made her drown the computer. And I would have made her look at me while she did it.

Destroying other people's shit is disrespectful, and so is humiliating them in public because you're being a whining little twat. And... saying shit you don't mean has a way of biting you in the ass.

She would have learned the lesson I meant to convey.

And, she'd have spent a month in her room thinking about it.

I get this guys sentiment, however twisted some people think it is.

It's not easy being green.

This post isn't about pity. This post is about understanding.

Understanding what it's like to be me.

---

My mornings start off with coffee, a smoke and checking my handy little sitemeter accounts to see who's been visiting my stuff. One always needs a heads-up on who might be creeping on the sly.

---

My grocery shopping trips always go like this:

Cashier: "Do you have a preferred customer card?"
Me: "No, I don't."
Cashier: "Just fill out this form and you can get one."
Me: "No, thanks."
Cashier: "It's free!"
Me: "No, thanks."

See, cards like this add you to a mailing list. Mailing lists can be bought and sold. All I'd like is to have the discounts. No soup for you!

---

Riding in the car goes like this:

Me: "Please, drive safe."
Driver: "I will." as they make an illegal right turn
Me: "There's a cop behind us." my guts start to knot up
Driver: "Go ahead, let them stop us."
Me: in my head--"Oh, god, please, no. If they run my name, I'm going to jail. They'll make up a reason to take me in."

---

My trips to the craft store always go like this:

Cashier: "Are you on our mailing list?"
Me: "No, I'm not."
Cashier: "Just fill out this card and you can get special deals."
Me: "I'd love to, but really, I can't."

All I really want is some fucking coupons, but I can't get them.

---

I want a book from Amazon.

Me: "I really want this book."
Amazon: Please type in your account info.

I don't have any accounts. Accounts cause credit checks. Credit checks put activity on a credit report. With the right information, anyone can access your credit report.

---

Going out with people goes like this:

Me: "I didn't bring enough cash."
Them: "Just toss it on the debit or credit card."
Me: "I don't have either of those."
Them: "You WHAT?!?!?! What century are you living in? Every decent person has a bank account."  
enter the 'what the fuck is wrong with you' look

All I'd like is to never see that look again.

---

The apartment I'm living in is owned by a slumlord, so, I start looking for a better place.

Ad: "We do credit checks."
Me: Fuck, cross that one off the list.

I end up with slumlord after slumlord because slumlords don't do credit checks.

Rats and roaches are my roommates.

---

Once I have an apartment, there's the issue of getting utilities.

If I put them in my name they're going to run a credit check. If I miss a payment, it goes on my credit report. They may give my name to other services associated with them, which opens me up to being found. Now, I've got to ask someone if they will trust me enough to have the stuff put in their name.

See? Even lights and gas are not simple tasks.

---

 Then, there's mail. That subject is always fun.

Friend: "I want to send you this in the mail!"
Me: "Let me see if I can get XXX to let it come to their house, ok?"
Friend: "Why? I'm just sending you a birthday card."
Me: "I can't risk anyone finding my real address."
Friend: "I'd never tell him!"
Me: "I know you wouldn't, but I don't trust he won't find you, bop you in the head and take your address book."

---

Then, there's the credit score conversations.

Them: "My credit score is 630."
Me: "My credit report is blank. I have no credit."
Them: "You're 44 years old and have no credit? What kind of loser are you?"
Me: "A loser trying to stay alive."

---

I have to THINK about everything. Every move is an effort. I'm constantly on guard. Nothing is simple. Nothing.

No one really understands how much they have until they can't have it anymore.

I have to conscientiously think about things everyone else takes for granted.

And folks wonder why I stay exhausted.

Watch it, sucka.

I really hate fucking cunts who want to come along and tell me how much better they'd do things if they were in my position.

How they'd hire this attorney, or that private investigator.
How they'd just get an order of protection.
How they'd just get a gun.
How they'd just change their name.
How they'd just move.
How they'd just contact a domestic violence organization.
How they'd just tell someone in the media.
How they'd just demand witness protection.
How they'd just...

Like I didn't think of that already. Like I've not researched that already. Like I've not done that already. Like if I had the money I'd have not done that already. Like I've not done everything I could possibly do to keep myself safe. I'm not this guy:

So, fuck you, cunt. Stop acting like you know everything. Stop talking to me like I'm some lackadaisical asshole who never lifted a finger to preserve my own life.

And stop telling me how YOU'D do things if you were me. You're not. You've never had to live like this. You've never had to be hyper-aware of every little detail of your life, and because of that fact, you cannot fathom how to even begin living this way, or the mental toll it takes. You get the luxury of toddling through life like Tooter Turtle, tucking your head in at the bad stuff. If you had to live like this, you'd probably shoot yourself in the face.

Your lame advice comes off as condescending and patronizing. It pisses me off that you assume I'm a dumb, lazy twat that needs your limp-dicked, bad advice that would probably result in my being dead. Especially when the reality is, I've been outsmarting a fucking sociopath for more than a decade.

STFU already. You're not helping me, and you're not making yourself look all that great, either.