Month: November 2012

Breakin’.

So I’m back like a Lindsay Lohan arrest!! Let me start by saying I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving break however it was decided to be spent–with family, with friends, at work, at the strip club–I hope it was grand. While I didn’t get my share of tits and tater tots, I did get to spend time with my family and friends and to top it off, I got to enjoy a SIX DAY VACATION.
Happy dance
While on my break, I really took to heart to reflect on where I am and just what exactly in life am I thankful for:

HEALTH
There are so many times I’ve had a bad day or moment of annoyance where I had to stop myself and remember things could be much, much worse. Never take this for granted.

FAMILY

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These people are crazier than cat shit, but I love them for it. The good, the bad, and the ugly–they have always there no matter what and I will forever be grateful for them. Each and every one–I feel like everyone has a “good” and “bad” side to their family, and mine is no different. I love both sides–the good ones taught me strength and what to do–the bad ones make me stronger and teach me what not to be.

COMMON SENSE
You’d be surprised how many people lack this lovely gift.

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MORTAL KOMBAT
There’s nothing like a long day of fuckery and coming home to kick some ass. This game has kept me from ending up on World Star and is cheaper than a therapist.

That’s just a few of the things I am thankful for–I could go on and on but I’m going to keep it short and sweet. What are some of the things you’re grateful for??

When Going For Eye Candy Goes Wrong


Okay I’ll admit, I am one of those stupid people that will go to something just because my one favorite actor/actress is somehow involved in it. I hate pretty much anything Twilight, but if Mark Walhberg hit his head and suddenly decided to sign on for a Sparkles spinoff I would be front row and center cheering him on every glittery step of the way. If Charlize Theron popped up on the television today and told me to support Pampers for the sake of humanity, I probably would go out to my nearest store tomorrow and purchase a 12-pack of diapers—I don’t even know any kids that need diapers, but if Charlize says it’s okay dammit it has to be.

So last week I got to check out the premiere of Red Dawn, which hits theaters tomorrow and is actually a remake of the 1984 original with Patrick Swayze and a pre-hot mess Charlie Sheen which follows the story of two brothers who band together with a group of friends to take down an army of Soviet forces whom have invaded their town.

I liked the original film, so coming into the remake I had high hopes —it’s 2012 so the effects automatically will be cooler, the guns will be bigger and last but not least—this version features Chris Hemsworth and my latest Hollywood obsession, Josh Peck.

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Toxic Is As A Toxic Does.

At some or several points, you will come across people that will bring nothing but headaches and pure hot ass fuckery into your life. This person could be anyone—a friend, a coworker, a boyfriend/girlfriend, spouse—they can and will come from all angles.

I’m not going to spend too much time but I wanted to do a quick post on the subject of toxic relationships. Earlier this year I’d made the decision to finally end my own toxic relationship that had developed over the past few years with a family member and it was probably one of, if not the best decision I could have ever made. The relationship had become nothing but a living soap opera–full of pain, bad news, and drama that had me living in constant stress and anger, so much to the point I had been hospitalized twice for panic attacks and was turning into a toxic person myself.

Oh, just me kicking it in the ER.

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The True Inner Demon

Seven months. Seven productive, positive life changing months of being clean before I caved back in. No I’m not talking about drugs; I’m talking about something much, much worse.

The blue Devil in the flesh. Everyone can take a break from it here and there, but you can never truly stay gone forever. I have determined that it is simply just not humanly possible. It’s like my Aunt Jerry’s house–you go because it’s familiar, you stay for all the crazy people and when it’s time to leave you wonder why you keep torturing yourself and going over to that goddamn house anyways.

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Welcome to the Quarter-life Crisis

Quarter Life Crisis: (N) The period in your life occuring between 20 and 30 years of age, when you realize that a quarter of your life is over and you start developing a more realistic outlook in life.

If you had asked me when I was 5 what I wanted to be when I grew up, without hesitation I would have answered a doctor, a writer and an ice skater. I’d have my practice Monday-Wednesday, skate practice Thursday, write Friday/Saturday and my skating performance Sunday evening. You couldn’t tell me that shit wasn’t going to work out.

Fast forward to my mid-twenties and I’ve grown to learn that the only interest of Dr. anything I had was Dr. Pepper and the last time I tried to ice skate it went along the lines of something like this:

Bottom line is that we spend so much of all little young lives fantasizing and building up this dream of triple threatening it across America that we soon wake up and find ourselves in *gasp* the real world–where nothing makes sense and everything is up for discussion. Welcome to the Quarter-Life Crisis.

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Halloween is over & I’m officially a loser

In the childhood years, Halloween was about who had the coolest costume and could get the most candy. I was all about being scary stuff as a kid–from an old witch to a dead taxi cab driver (thanks a bunch mom). Somewhere over the years of that and being able to legally order a Cape Cod, things changed. It was less about the candy, and more about the costume–but with less material.

The first year of being able to officially go out and celebrate, not only did I fall into a crowd I will just now call the “Mean Girls”, but I also fell into the trend of dressing like a hooch magooch. It was decided to all wear two piece costumes and while the theme was referees I chose to be slightly “different” and not be completely assed out by wearing a sailor costume. Nonetheless, I still was half naked and should have been certified as a ninja considering the lengths I took to sneak out of the house dressed in my attire.

Even though I was with my “friends”, the overall going out experience was awful. The lines were incredibly long, the fee was expensive to get in, and the worst of it was that almost every guy in the building looked at me like red tag meat special.

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