Its where I keep the lightening

Yesterday, while talking to a dear friend, I was explaining what I do at work when she interrupted to say “I cannot figure out what you are made of”. Without even thinking about what she meant I blurted: “Sarcasm. I’m made of sarcasm. And caffeine. Oh and some dark clouds. It’s where I keep the lightening. And maybe a few plants. Yeah, plants.”

She laughed and said she thought maybe I was a Willow tree because I bend, but don’t ever break.

I think she gives me too much credit. She always does.

Today, speaking to my oldest friend he said to me: “You only survived me being a tornado because you were a bigger one.” I laughed so hard. Harder than I probably should have. But he was right. He only survived me because when tornadoes collide there really is no damage to the tornadoes themselves. They just rotate around one another until they eventually break free and go on their separate ways.

It’s funny how the Universe chooses to bring things to your attention.

Willow Trees & Tornadoes. That is all.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

Kid vs Metal Cactus

So. Mother’s day.

Imagine my confusion when I wake up to my Better Half describing a PUNCTURE WOUND surrounded by scratches in my kid’s arm. Better Half goes on to tell me that the night before the kid was at a friend’s and slipped. The arm is patched up, but looks deep. Goes on to tell me it was caused by a fall against metal cactus at the pool. Yeah, you read that correctly. I made better Half Half tell me twice because I thought for sure I’d smoked crack by mistake and was hearing word soup. Nope. Metal cactus by the pool.

All I could think of was allllllll the tetanus. All. Of. It.

I had so many questions.

I’m sorry, what? A real cactus would fuck up your day, but a metal one? That sounds like a great addition to a slippery area!! Fuck yeah, let’s put that bitch by the pool!! What? I. Ugh. How is that even pool themed?! What the actual hell. Who the actual fuck did that??

Needless to say I spent Mother’s day in Urgent care.  Stitches and a tetanus shot WOOOOO!

Kid 0 // Metal Cactus 1

Only my kid.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

WRONG TURN!

Ummmmmmmmmmmmm

I. Um. Well.

That moment you go read the blog of someone who liked your post, only to find that they, um. They must not be familiar with your blog. Like, this person must have just been randomly clicking to drum up their views because I can assure you from their page…..uh, they um. Would not like me. LMAO.

I clicked on their page and immediately was like “OOOOhhhhh I have taken a wrong turn. WRONG TURN!” lololol and then I thought “What the hell are YOU doing on my page?” Hahahah.

But, for the record all are safe here.

Well. I mean. If you are a pedo or a racist you aren’t, but everyone else for the most part. LOLOL.

So just as a reminder: #BLM #LoveIsLove #DontBeAnAssHole

Catriona

XOXOXO

Oh the smell…….

I’ve had my windows open for days.

Today, I woke up to the smell of someone using their wood stove. The air was crisp and for a moment, before I opened my eyes, I thought I was home. It was wonderful until the dog chased the cat into the room, onto the bed, and over my head in a flurry of tails and claws. .

 

October is almost over, sigh. It’s my favorite month.

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OH and before I forget! DO NOT EAT THE MONOPOLY GUMMIE CANDY.

Just don’t do it.

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Yeah, that’s all I got. I’ve sort of forgotten what I came here to write about. …

Catriona

You guys are WEIRD. (Warning: content was made in a facility that uses clowns)

You all will like a post about me molesting a (plastic) owl’s butt for the pleasure of my lips (gloss), but if I even mention CLOWNS –  only a few of you like it. Hahahhaha I know you guys saw it. I’m a stalker like that. HAHHAHHAHAHA. No seriously. But, it’s OK. I understand. lmao.

If you have used your eye holes, you will see I’ve attached a warning to my title. This is not only because it amuses me – but because a follower of mine expressed a true phobia of clowns. I ❤ my followers. (You may also want to stay away from my twitter for a few more days if you don’t do clowns well…..)

The Northampton clown has promised something big for the end of the week people! I can’t wait!

Ok Ok oOOOooooooK..so enough about clowns.

Oh damn, I hear work calling my name. . . .

Catriona

 

 

 

 

Undercover beotch

That’s right. I’m under cover. . As in; in bed with the covers over my head. Don’t ask me why! Its none yo! Hah. Freaks.

Ask Catriona

So, I keep disappearing. (It will happen from time to time. I have tons of projects I pull the strings for…)

And when I disappear, I get mail. A lot of mail.

Some hate mail, some love mail, but mail none the less (for the record, I really, really LOVE the hate mail). I get questions and comments,  and just plan raw ridiculousness that makes me squish with excitement.

I’ve decided! I’ve decided that I’m going to start posting the messages, and tweets and weird stuff that I get from all the various media outlets that I lend myself to, here. Well not all, that’s crazy talk. Some. The some that I like, or the some that I think should be out in the land of entertainment, the land of real. Unless you give me direct permission to use your first name, user name, or sex handle (whatever you are into, weirdo) I will post them anonymously.

I get so many questions. SO.MANY.QUESTIONS. I love questions, I do. But, it would be so much easier for my lazy ass if they were, for the most part, in the same place. So, I will be answering questions on posts like this one. They will be filed under “Ask Catriona” and you will be free to read all the stuff people say to me when they think no one is looking. LMAO You are all free to ask any question you feel the need to ask, here, as well. I reserve the right to tell you to go to hell and delete your post (very rarely will I do this, but I draw the line at child abuse and old people beating questions, or statements). I almost always answer every question. Just sometimes never in any type of speedy manner.

Oh, also. For the most part – you will get more than one answer to choose from. I believe in freedom, and you have the freedom to believe what you want to be believe. And I have the freedom to keep you guessing, mofo.

Let’s start with the last round of questions and comments I have received. No names will be used, as no one had a chance to give permission.

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Q: Catriona, what do you smell like?

ANSWER(s):

A. I smell like I imagine a fresh vagina would, while dancing in the rain.

B. I smell like a tonic made from fruit flies.

C. Walnuts.

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Q: Is Catriona your real name?

ANSWER(s):

Yes, one of my many. Bologna being my first.

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Q: Can I have your phone number?

ANSWER(s):

A. No, but the reason isn’t you, it’s me. I’m the biggest stalker EVER. Sometimes (read: MOST times) I cannot help myself and I get a little out of hand. The collection of protection orders against me is starting to pile up, and my lawyer says that I need to stop, like, now.  He also wont let me publish a compilation of the protection orders all the lovers of the world have lovingly bestowed upon me. He’s an asshole.

B. Fuck that shit, yo.

C. I would, but you need to talk to my pimp first.

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Q: Can I have you E-mail address?

ANSWER(s):

A. Of course you can! Duh, it’s Ilovethecrack@braahahahaha.com

B. NO, weirdo!

C. I might be reachable at Catrionaiscrazy@gmail.com.

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That’s not even the tip of the weirdoburg. I love the weirdoburg.

Alright, that is all for now.

Catriona

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Kiss my teapot

I got me a new teapot, yo. Why do you care? CUZZ YOU SHOULD. That is all.

Don’t have much here, people. I know, I know. I’m boring these days. I can’t help it. I’m getting old. hahah.

OH. There is something I was wanting to share with all of you:

This.

Google. What a funny thing.

I’m not even sure what I was researching…….It was a while ago….hmmmm what was it?! I can’t think of it right now. But I can tell you that it wasn’t one of  THOSE. I love that it tries to predict what you want – using the most frequent requests it receives. “I don’t know what size condom to buy” is one of the most often “I don’t know what,” requests?!!!?!! REALLY? hahahahahha!! That’s hysterical.

Gosh, I guess that’s all I got.

Oh, I have some photos to dump on you even tho it’s not Dump Sunday.

Here you go. Hang on to your panties!

And my personal favorite:

Alright, Catriona out.