Monthly Archives: February 2014

Dear Universe

You’ve broken my heart, and my head. Smashed them.

I feel like you’re punishing me for something. You are, aren’t you? I’m not sure what I’ve done, or how to repent, but you’re killing me. I feel like you don’t even notice. Do you even care?

You keep dropping me to my face, and gleefully kicking me while I’m down.

Two weeks ago I found myself clutching the phone with my head and shoulder while pulling the lifeless body of the person my son considers to be his other parent from the bed to the floor, for resuscitation. I found myself in the ICU for days; the noises of life support filling my ears.

This week I found myself in a different hospital looking down at one of my closest friends as he showed me how the surgery went. They took his leg to save his life. He’s not a candidate for prosthesis, he’s wheelchair bound, and elderly. And I’m so helpless it’s killing me.

Also this week -I found myself in a room hearing things like “PTSD”, “Time”, “Brave”, and “you should really resume writing”.  Resume writing? I don’t know how to resume anything, let alone writing.

That’s just this month. I’m so broken Universe, can you see this? I’m destroyed in places I didn’t even know existed. I don’t even feel human anymore. I feel poisonous.

What have I done to you? How do I fix it?

Catriona

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I NEED A PROSTATE! *Edit

omg, OMG, O.M.G You will never guess what I stumbled upon, OMG!!!!!!

I was looking for a Pick Punch, and do you know what I found? DO YOU?! I.JUST.CANNOT.EXPLAIN.HOW.EXCITED.I.AM.

I FOUND REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS!

reproI NEED A PROSTATE! NNNEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD!

and a testicle, and an ovary, and a Mammary gland! I NEED TO HAVE THEM ALL!

I’m almost, almost as excited as when I discovered STDs! ALMOST.

HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THESES! WHAT THE HELL!? I NEED A TESTICLE! I need a testicle to go with alllll the STDs I will one day have!

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

GIVE ME A PROSTATE!

BAHAHAHAHAHAHH!

I’m off to buy a prostate.

Catriona

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Super Balls aren’t for me.

I’ve been watching Doctor Who for hours. Superbowl, bla!

I’ve avoided FB and Twitter all night –  for fear of being Super Balled. Doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it?

While avoiding taking a Ball to the eye, I’ve been tooling around on WordPress. You know what I’ve found? THIS:

crazymail orderkreizi bits

Those are the search engine terms from the last few days, for my blog. Bahahahah!

“Are Craiglist Whores Crazy?” hahahah! People actually search for that? REALLY? Gosh, I love people. So, amusing.

“Penis Spam Eat” – Wait, what?!

Man, I need to start blogging about puppies, and cotton candy, or something. LMAO Yeahhhhhhh, we know that’s not going to happen.

Gosh, I’m tired. Ugh.

Good Night my friends, I hope you haven’t gotten Super Balled, too hard.

Catriona

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Coulrophobia and Honey Holes (Caution: Clowns ahead)

Can you say the word “Coulrophobia”?

Cuzz I can’t. Nope.

I can read it, I can spell it, I even know what it means! Buttttt I cannot verbalize it with out sounding like I just woke up, still drunk from a hot-mess-of-a-week-long-binge.

If you are unfamiliar with the the word; it’s an extreme fear of Clowns. I can’t tell you the statistics on Coulrophobia (I can tell you that Auto correct doesn’t like the word at all. Maybe it suffers from Coulrophobia?… ), but I can tell you more often than not – people react negativity when faced with even the image of a clown. I should know, my childhood bedroom was completely covered, right down to the bedspread, in clowns. (That bedspread had ruffles, like, A LOT of ruffles, btw. I friggen hated ruffles,  but somehow is was totally ok because it was clown themed.) Reactions are fascinating, especially to clowns. More people went running in terror from my childhood bedroom then they do now. hahaha. . and that’s saying something.. Bahahahahah…

Is it just me, or are more people getting rid of more clown stuff, at a faster rate, than they ever used to? I looooove thrift shops, and I have to say I have seen more second hand clown items pop up in shops within the last year, then EVER before. I look for clown stuff…so, yeah, I’d know. Hhahahaha It’s too bad I don’t decorate with clown items as much as I used to. haha.

Side note* –  have you ever been writing at your desk, just mindlessly jamming out to a random song, when alllllll of a sudden you realize the lyrics of said song are a grown man purring about “licking a loli pop” annnnnnnnd you come to a FULL stop? No? Well, that just happen to me. haa. I hate when lyrics kill a perfectly good beat.

Clowns are all over these days.  The Northampton Clown has a book out (wow), and there’s some gun wielding clown now (I’m not surprised, are you?), and that’s not even the half of it. I confess.. I just can’t get enough. I recently stumbled upon darkclowns.blogspot.com, crazy interesting. All sorts of tid bits that will make you wanna pee your pants (if you suffer from Coulrophobia that is). Ha…..

Oh my stars! I have to interrupt this crazy Clown rambling to tell you that I have been on the phone with my boss for almost 20 mins, and within those 20 mins she has used the phrase “Honey Hole” AT LEASE 7 times, YES I was counting, and OH MY STARS IT HAS TAKEN ALL I HAVE NOT TO BURST INTO LAUGHTER. BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH! She just said it again! BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH! Does she not hear herself?! OMG someone please, PLEASE send this woman a link to Urban Dictionary, STAT! I am trying so, SO hard to keep a straight face and serious tone. BAHAHAHAHAHAH! She Just said it again. IS SHE MESSING WITH ME?! She has got to be messing with me. AHAHAHAHAHA! Holy CRAP BATMAN! She actually just uttered the sentence: “Well, we are all after the Honey Hole” OMG SERIOUSLY?! Is she drunk? She’s got to be drunk! FUCK, AM I DRUNK?! I cannot take it. She is as serious as she could be, just working that into the convo. I have a whole new respect for this chick. “It’s my job to help you find your Honey Hole.” OH, OH wow. No joke, that was just said to me. I have spent this whole convo with my hand clamped firmly over my mouth trying, desperately, not to laugh in her eye. Oh man, I’m so glad that’s over. ahaha wow. Just, wow.

I want to take this time to thank my bladder. Thank you bladder, for being stronger than I give you credit for. I surely would have peed myself, had you been as weak as I tell people you are. For realz. Peed. Myself. In. Laughter. So, thank you blatter for being there for me. I’ll try to treat you better going forward.

I am completely in awe of that convo, and am unable to continue to ramble about Clowns. HAHHA. I cannot even go back and proof read. You will have to just. Deal.

BAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!

Honey Hole!

Catriona

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