I came across this travel video blog that someone did and it brought up a couple questions I have in regards to ones individual story. If you were to make a short film/video compilation of your life (up to this point obviously), what are the significant moments in your life that you wished were photographed/filmed to document it properly (to your discretion and exact expression) and what would the soundtrack be? And then I thought it may not be possible for anyone who has lived past their teens to do their complete story. It may actually be a tad unrealistic of me to think one could take 42 years of their life (using myself as an example here lol) and sum it up in one little video clip. So how about a milestone chunk? Just a thought...

Still

Just know that whether the pain is of body, mind or soul, I will never allow it to make me lose sight of you through the darkness that often surrounds me.

Today is a day that

I wish I didn’t have to spend alone.

Sleeping to dream

A'women

You’d think of all days, a Trypolar rant would be a sure thing today, but it’s not. I’ve been in this foggy haze all day and even find myself responding to happy valentine’s well wishers with a lighthearted “You too!”

Huh?
Like HUH?
WHAT THE FUCK?

I promise, I’m not high! Well I’m not high to the extent that would cause this kind of nauseating behaviour, honest!
Calm down Diane. Just calm the fuck down!
I’m still okay, yep, I’m still fine.
I think I know where this clueless behaviour comes from. It's not that I'm suddenly accepting Vday or now think it’s a super awesome holiday. My principles are still there and as strong as ever. The reason I’m not all angst filled is that I don’t feel the need to preach ALL THAT IS PURE SUCKAGE. Those who recognize Vday don’t infuriate me like they once did. Sure I think they’re missing the goddamn point and if you have that special someone in your life, every day should be special blah blah blah. Regardless, I will always have an issue with today and I just hope that that doesn't need explaination.

So with my size 10’s drilled deep into the sand I'll stand here with my arms crossed in complete defiance, which is usually the only time I grace the beach anyway. Yes I have size 10 feet. If I was a man I’d be hung like a Shetland Pony so fuck off.

PHEW!!!!!! Ya know, for a moment there, I actually thought I was going soft! Phew, WHAT A FUCKING RELIEF! PHEW!

So in honour of this joyous, and most sacred of holy days, I thought it appropriate to share my most romantic and heartfelt song, sung by Louise Beuvink who has the voice of an absolute angel. Please enjoy and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO ONE AND ALL. IN THE NAME OF THE MUTHA, THE FUCKER, AND THE HOLY SHIT, A'WOMEN.

[NSFW] A song about a guy I liked in high school... - watch more funny videos

The Day I Lost Control

Marbles

I need to set loose some of the little somethings in my head or they'll bounce around in there causing havoc and mayhem and I just can't have that, ya know...
Here's one of those marbles that needs freedom:

Is it just special coincidence that every single man I've come to know over the years, the failure of their prior relationship was never their fault?

Hmmmmmmm...

The word 'Conundrum' suddenly popped into my head. Arrgghhhh!!!
This may be the first time I have ever used that word let alone typed it out.

Oh the above excludes any men that read this. Teeheehee
(I'm allowed to do stupid shit too ya know! This post is most likely one of them.)

Say No to Grandma Fighting

So I’m doing the usual “what’s going on in the world today” thing and low and behold I come across this story and like a baby that has short stubby arms that are just outta reach of the cookie jar, I am brought tears. Relax, unlike in the babies case, mine are happy tears :P Okay, so if you look closely at the bottom right of the video you can see her way down the street and she runs like a bat outta hell with her purse at the ready and full of whoop-ass and pixie dust to seriously bash some jewel thieving butt. Are you fucking kidding me??? Oh how I would love to meet this woman as it would definitely be one of the highlights of my life and I would genuinely be humbled by her presence while no typical celebrity could possibly rouse. These are the people I respect and adore so thank you Ann Timson, you are my hero. Hmmmm, I wonder, do you think it's possible she’d accept a bounty on my ex? I would just love to see him get smacked and slapped around by ‘The Lady in Red.’ ;) Nothing like a humongous dose of humiliation to the biggest bully I know, feeds ma soul. ;)


However, on the opposite side of the spectrum there is a cruel reminder of the exploitation of perfectly good Grandmas all over the world and I strongly feel that underground Grandma Fighting definitely needs to be outlawed. In places where Grandma Fighting is outlawed, its clandestine culture is believed to be directly related to other crimes and to community violence. Peripheral criminal activities that sometimes occur at a Grandma fight include illegal gambling, racketeering, drug trafficking, prostitution and gang violence. Grandma advocates also cite desensitization to violence and Grandma cruelty as an unwelcome corollary of Grandma fighting, particularly among child spectators. I am very proud to say that I am a passionate supporter of the humane treatment of Grandmas everywhere.

WARNING: Video below may be offensive to some viewers. 18+ only

"I say, I say boy, 2 half nothings makes a whole nothing!"

Polkaroo & Gary Gnu

"Oh Polkaroo! You certainly had a good trip!"

This definitely answers a lot of questions I've had about myself.




Yep, for sure it's 80's childrens television that has created the unstable pot head no good hippy I am today. Thanks for that!

31 Days from when?

Normally I don’t take notice of the shaggy haired mailman that brings the abundance of shitty junk mail that floods my mail box, but for some unexplained reason today I found myself reaching in that creaky box for what was inside. A sharp pain in my gut like a psychic slap to the face compelled me to check it which is something I haven’t done in months. There was never a need to since whatever worth acknowledging was sent to me electronically such as bills and statements. I actually found myself avoiding the mail box for fear of getting furious because some place I humored years ago would still send me their shitty surveys even though I’ve reamed out every representative within their customer service department. The envelope was thick and there was my address written in that basic printing that never advanced past a grade school level, a vaguely familiar printing that I immediately recognized. I knew, I just knew what this was and for a brief moment I was unsure of my feelings. Should I be upset? Finality. Just a short time ago I would have at least cried a little but surprisingly I was reacting to these divorce papers as I would have one of those annoying surveys or maybe even less. It’s been over for years yet I sit here not knowing how to react. Would it be so wrong if I didn’t feel anything at all? Immediately I went to an extreme since that’s always been my schtick over the years, testing a situation by throwing it into the most extreme emotion I can muster. I thought to myself “What if this was a notice that he’s dead? Would that bring any unresolved feelings to the surface? Would I grieve, would I cry?" The answer was raw and matter of fact. I would’nt feel a fucking thing! How could that be? Is that what moving on is? What the X does, is or has, no longer affects me in an emotional way? It’s a strange feeling really. This person whom I once would take a bullet for, whom I’d dragged myself through the mud for, put my body through hell and back to have his children for and which I still pay for to this day from residual sicknesses that inevitably surfaced, now he means less to me than ummm my mechanic! Well fuck, it’s hard to find a

mechanic that doesn’t tack on a little extra here and there so ease up on the judging ok! Sure I’m not the softest gal but I’m no emotional cripple, I appreciate my mechanic and tell him regularly. So here I am typing this shit out again hoping to alleviate this icky feeling that I wasn’t prepared for, the feeling of not feeling anything at all. Bizarre huh? I’m complaining and confused because I don’t really feel much at all. I genuinely don’t care and I’m wondering if I should be worried about this aloof reaction. What if this new place I’m in is too hard and cold, even for me? I know I’m definitely not the poster child for ‘super affection gal’ and hugging me can sometimes seem like a eunuch getting an intense lap grinding from Scarlett Johansson but I can assure you, in my head I’m hugging you back big time. :P

Ah fuck! It may have something to do with not being hugged as a child or that my dad who I loved very much, may he rest in peace, was the all powerful Supreme Dick of the land of Dickdom, but I try not to focus on that since it sounds incredibly weak and that doesn’t support the bad-ass, unshakable persona I like to uphold. ;) I suppose I am my father, but that’s as far as that goes because, well I’ve been through over a decade of serious therapy and frankly I’m just tired of beating this dead horse. Makes me feel I at least owe that horses loved ones something of an apology for mutilating their poor majestic Black Beauty. I too struggle with acceptance so please forgive my stubbornness. If it’s any consolation, my foot is fucking killing me and I'm pretty nauseated from the stench of rotten meat.

So..... yeah, ummm, well..... that’s that I guess. Tuck those papers into the overflowing ‘to be filed’ environmentally conscious canvas bag that’s behind my washroom door and be done with it. There's no cliche papers that need to be signed which is totally cool with me since the effort it took to open the envelope was more than I'd like to invest in this painful memory. No need to analyze this, it’s already taken up a better part of my morning and I really can’t squeeze anymore compelling or

philosophical shit from it and even if I could, I have more interesting useless information to ponder and share in my own spastic, childish way. Oh yeah, one more thing I found a little amusing. The divorce document says that in 31 days I can send them $19 bucks and receive a formal piece of paper that states what I’ve known for a very long time, that I am no longer his. Well thank you so much for the closure my faithful and supportive government but you can keep that lovely document, I have tendency to burn shit like that anyway so why break a Twenty. Besides, I’ve decided to treat myself to some Miso soup, Spicy Salmon Maki and a Soft Shell Crab Roll instead. Do you think this falls along the same lines as pawning my engagement ring and using the money to buy The Burning Crusade expansion and epic surround sound for my Macbook Pro?

Forgive me Gandalf for I have sinned and purchased the super sizes once again

Sometime during the Summer of 2010 in the wee hours of the morning:

I’ve just spent better part of the evening and most of the early morning perusing YouTube.com for stand up comedy stuff because I was and still am in desperate need of a good laugh. First it was Lewis Black then Russell Peters and then Comics Without Borders on Showtime. Some funny stuff, some meh not so much. Unfortunately most of it was sub par and although I lol’d a couple times, none of my laughter was stomach ache funny. I laughed more when I jumped into my car at 11pm to pick up a pack of smokes and I witnessed my older sisters friend on her short walk home after an eventful evening of heavy bong smokeage and drinky poos.

The pretty sun dress wearing, blond Pebbles hairdo sporting cougar was so severely trashed that the curb became a hazardous obstacle instead of the safety road border it usually provides. But I saw right through that mean sour glare she shot me and knew it was a brave face and that this woman who currently graced my driveway chose to battle her journey home, alone. Woman to woman, we said so much yet not a single word was uttered. I was truly humbled, I never really noticed her value until that very moment. As I drove by this strong and independent woman my humility took hold and I felt compelled to lower my head in silent appreciation of this ‘special, special’ gal. Warm, dry and safely tucked within the comfort of my car, my heart soared from an abundance of admiration. Suddenly I remembered Mrs. Andersons escape artist psycho Jack Russel that lived 2 houses down but I refrained from sharing that info with her as I'm sure it would have only offended her by suggesting she couldn't handle herself. And as I gazed into my rear view mirror and saw her drunken silhouette stumbling playfully with good ole Rusty Anderson, an almost inaudible whisper escaped my lips. "Go forth and conquer fellow Cougar. Make us all proud."

Okay, so back to the comedians. I realized a couple things in regards to comedians and what separates the fucking hilarious from the "Yeah I guess he is okay but he’s no fucking Carlin", not that that would ever happen pssssh. They got to be able to make fun of anyone and not feel that they need to justify it. No one is untouchable and a comedian should never 'half ass' anything. They need to own it 100%. If at any time the comedian feels they won’t be able to carry whatever comes out of their mouth, they’re most likely finished. I think they have to be ready for the consequences whatever they may be. After whatever they just said sinks into the crowd, they have to stand solid no matter what the outcome otherwise they’ll end up like Andrew Dice Clay balling his eyes out on national television and begging the world for forgiveness. (I looked for this video and can't seem to find it. Did this really happen or is it just my imagination? I could swear I remember ADC being interviewed and apologizing for his behaviour while crying but there are no clips of this.) Listen to me all high and mighty know it all, when in reality I don’t have a goddamn clue. Fuck it, it’s my blog so I can be the expert here if I want, you go be the expert on your own blog. This is my twisted reality, so get your own. I was going to use the “That said,” transitional expression here but I remembered I despise that phrase.

My god, it’s almost 4:30am and I’m not even tired! Fuck me sideways! What the hell is the matter with me? Suddenly I feel the need to slap myself. Hey have you ever literally slapped yourself or has always been strictly a figure of speech? That question wasn’t meant to be rhetorical. I really do want to know if any of you have actually slapped yourself and if so, aside from the sting on your hand and face, how did it feel, really? A detailed description will suffice. I love stories containing self inflicted abuse, it feeds my self destructive behaviour and I’m always looking for new material.

What I know for sure?

- That I watch the food network because most television pisses me off so I mute it and only occasionally look up to watch the pictures flashing by. I find that for the most part I can’t tell the difference between the actual show and it’s commercials. I feel if I’m going to be bullshitted, I prefer it be upfront and consistent instead of being force fed a false sense of truth while it slowly grinds at my soul in a clueless and naive manner.
- That the Food Channel makes me extremely hungry and as a result, I constantly crave Truffles which is quite odd since I’ve never eaten one let alone support the plural version of them. Regardless I don’t have a fucking clue what they taste like and could very likely be disappointed when the day comes that I actually do. I guess I will need to sit in my puddle of Truffle ignorance for the rest of my days and just avoid that potential let down.
- That the extent that I relate to Frodo Baggins, especially in the last of the three movies is extremely mentally unhealthy.
Frodo: “There are some things we just don’t get past. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep… that have taken hold. It's been four years to the day since Weathertop, Sam. It's never really healed."
I truly believe in my heart that the above scene of Frodo explaining his healing process or lack thereof was in fact directed to me personally and was some cosmic, magical message. How’s that for arrogance. If there was a LOTR church and religion I would frequent mass on a weekly if not daily basis. My faith would be unwavering and I’d preach the good word of Tolkien like a Jehovah Witness with a severe case of OCD.
- That I’m not marriage material let alone relationship material. Apparently I need to love myself if I am to be genuinely loved by another, so to sum it up, I’m fucked. Well not literally but that should go without saying. It’s been so long that I now get the signs & symptoms of a bladder infection simply by using Super Absorbency Tampons as opposed to the Regular size. Lets just be honest here, I’m pretty sure I buy the supers just because they’re the biggest in the Tampon family anyway. There is a slight possibility I’m going to regret that last bit of information I just shared with you but it’s too late now. I’m too lazy to hit the backspace that many times. (I was going to post a pic of a super size but opted not to.

Bedtime now. Oh I so look forward to having the usual calm and peaceful 3 hour sleep I’m so accustomed to. Sweet dreams oh vast and spacious WWW universe, till tomorrow.

The Learning Corner
This useless piece of knowledge is brought to you by Trypolar,
your friendly neighbourhood spaz &
Sponsored by Josh’s Hemporama - Where Chill’in is Cheap and Hippy’s are a'Plenty!

In my search for a cool photos of Truffles I came across many pictures, some of the fungus version and some of the chocolate version. So now I understand why high quality chocolate that’s rolled into little balls and dusted with cocoa is called Truffles. They look pretty similar huh!

Support New Fresh Musak Beeyatches

You think TBaby and her pimp posse are safe in da D? Naaaa uhhhhh she ain't! According to Kelly Dodsons brother Antoine, nobody's safe!!!

Fucks, Shits, Tits and Assholes

Okay, so this is long overdue and I hadn't had much time or motivation to edit the pile of shit below. To be honest, I still don't so if it sucks, sorry. I promise to try harder next time.
Maybe
Sorta
Kinda
Fuck! Who am I kidding, probably not

The below was supposed to be sort of a response to Mr. T and the post I made last week that I titled 'Shitty Pickles' in which I attempted to blog rape what I thought to be an epic online dating douchebag. Not sure if it makes sense but regardless please know that this is a direct result of mixing THC, NyQuil, Gravol, Tylenol 3 and the occasional Clorazepam.

I felt a little tinge of guilt when I talked to the BFF the other night. She read my blog post to Mr. T and seemed pretty charged as a result. Comments like “OMG, he better have good medical insurance to cover the intense therapy and high dosages of Paxil and Ativan” and “Hope he doesn’t have access to rope and rafters” flew from her mouth. On first impression one might get the sense that I’m a tad cruel but if given the chance and if the reader pushes on, I’m hoping he/she realizes that behind all the fucks, shits, tits and assholes, I actually do give a shit. You are right Mr. T, I was defending my BFF. I found myself going back to that charming email of yours which she forwarded to me, and getting all the more fucking pissed after each reading. Thing is, I was under extreme duress from lack of sleep and several bouts of emotional volatility since I was nearing the tail end of a merciless PMS cycle. Although my initial intent was to defend my awesome friends awesomeness and beat the bad dude down for shoving this exceptional woman into the proverbial pile of negative icky picky, rode hard and put away wet, hopeless gals, my own agenda kinda sorta ummm crept in. Not how you might think though, the brutal truth is that I just needed something to write about! I hadn’t come across anything that got my blood flowing and then she forwarded that email and WHAMMO BLAMO I found myself writing. So do y’all feel dirty and used now? No need to thank me all you closet masochists, this one is a freebie.
And now I’m sitting here staring at my Macbook, brutally aware of the difficulty I’m having describing my thoughts of the comments made here over the last couple days. I’ve always found it easy to fly off on my fucking tirades and although I’ve had my spells of ‘block’, I have never had difficulty expressing myself when the urge arose, until now. So Mr. T, consider this one of those rare occasions of almost miracle proportions and fucking milk this shit for everything it’s worth because ya kinda earned it ;). Among the occasional written blooper I am painfully aware of one obvious mistake I had made and that is, I underestimated you. Pretty bad fuck up considering I thrashed you for doing exactly that; making assumptions and not giving the TBOTD. I can honestly say that I in no way expected the response you put here and I was pleasantly surprised. This online thing is a real fucker ain’t it? I’ve sat here over the years and battled the ‘social network’ life and bared the constant conflict within me and the impact this technological social forum had on all of us. I fucking love the WWW, I really do! So many possibilities at my disposal just waiting for my fingers to hit the right keys, read the right articles, connect with the right guy, friends and facebook, online dating, news, ideas, creative outlets galore were all so easily attained. Almost instantly you could be transported to the street view of that ex boyfriends house and wondering who owned that silver Honda Accord in his driveway or Photoshop tweaking that one photo from the office Christmas party two years ago because that’s when I looked the thinnest. Thing is, then why am I so starved for REAL social interactions? Well, because this online stuff has gotten tired, that’s why. Laziness and choosing the easier path has made us all into self absorbed pussies who just don’t feel the need to invest or try and I fucking HATE THAT! I’m starving because I’m not fucking trying! I whine about not being swept off my feet but I know damn well why that’s not happening in the first place. The brutal truth, I won’t get that awesome life altering payout if I don’t put myself on the line. I suppose none of us really appreciate stuff if it comes too easy. The dating scene, people, the other half, are they really so different from me? They must want what I want! They must crave that emotional connection, they MUST! How fucking seriously egotistical for me to think I’m an exception. This goes beyond getting ones rocks off. We all can get our fuck on if we really wanted. Yeah, yeah guys, I know you’re shouting at the screen now saying “Maybe it's easy for chicks, but not guys.!” But if that urge rears it’s naughty little head and you need that release, a rub and tug or a drive downtown on those special streets can stir up someone to scratch that itch. “I don’t do that shit” you say? Okay, but at least you know it is an option and that provides some comfort right? Yikes, STOP FUCKING YELLING ALREADY SHEESH!!! I’m sensing a few ‘yeah buts’ bouncing around in your head? I dunno, pffffttt just a hunch. The fact remains, if we want to get our fuck on, we could make it happen. It might not be with Megan Fox and you’ll have to settle for a bootie call with the ex and her stalking you for the next 3 months afterwards before she finally got the hint, but it’s a fucking nonetheless. It’s that meaningful connection that’s much more difficult to come by and something I think we all crave.

And lately it seems more likely that I discover Sasquatch and we’d hang in his stud cave eating toasted bunny and communicating by grunts and hand signals. There I go whining again, it’s terribly unattractive isn’t it!
I’m really not pleased with myself at the moment knowing that just a little while ago my train of thought was that I was an exception and I was not a sheep, yet now I feel like constantly baaing and have a serious hankering for alfalfa (Is baaing a word? Pffft). If you could see the look on my face at this very moment, you’d see a squinty gal with unbrushed hair and a ‘I just ran over a raccoon’ vacant expression. At the risk of sounding AFTERSCHOOLSPECIALLY, I guess we all learned something here and that’s that we’re not so different after all. We just get tired of fighting the good fight and that sourness, jaded, bitter, whatever you want to call it negative cloud starts hovering over our heads and bringing with it a darkness that turns all the shit around us icky shades of grey, we all just need to look up and decide on a direction to make that leap of faith and try landing onto a brighter spot of happy happy and I’m okayness. I need to keep fucking jumping and not stay under this shitty cloud too long or I risk vitamin D deficiency and I just won’t bother looking up anymore. Fucking clouds! Fucking Radiohead soundtracked clouds! Start fucken leap’n people. Leap like your life depends on it. And if you get tired or need a minute to catch your breath, just let me know and I’ll do my best to send good karma bionics your way or just thrash you till you get pissed and fight back. Either way the result is the same, I would just enjoy the latter a heck of a lot more.
Holy fuckamoley, that was the most sappy piece of shit I have ever written I think I broke something in my brain or maybe I have a fever? I bet it’s a fever! Nothing the magic pipe can’t handle so don’t you worry your handsome big heads :P So when did I turn into this huge pile of sentimental gloopy mush? The tail end of PMS is fucking pathetic and I nauseate myself in spite of it. I’m so going to regret this later when I’m my good ole BitchMuthaFuckrStupidPeopleHate’nOpinionatedFortySomethingCynicalCougar self. I suddenly have the urge to kick puppies or something. Quick!!!! SOMEONE BRING ME A GODDAMN PUPPY!

Insert adorable puppy picture right here.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww eh? Shaddup ya sap! I’m kicking him right this second so THERE! Teeheehee, the thought of someone getting all bent that I enjoy kicking puppies in my spare time still makes me smile but the smile is much more solid now that I have confirmation of the existence of some seriously special cool peeps out there in WWW land that know otherwise and that they don’t think twice when giving me TBOTD.

Blessed Girlfriend

Another web series ... I'm noticing a pattern here I just don't understand how these talented people make money. Ads? Hmmmm

8 Dates

This web series is kinda cute.

GOAL ...

To never let the vulgarity level on my blog fall below 3500rpms.

.... IN A FUCKING HANDBASKET

I was scrolling through stuff I'd written years ago and found this kinda funny, cool, whatever. If I remember correctly, I was on a religion/god questioning period. I had noticed that both my mother and sister were preparing fish for a big Good Friday family meal and I suddenly realized this wasn't just some coincidence. I was kindly informed that they had been practising this religious rule for the past 35 years of my life as well as prior to that. WTF (Weird that when referring to religion, the word practising is the verb chosen. You'd think they would've perfected it by now.)

DiAne: When did we start this no meat on Good Friday thing?
Mom & Sis: WE'VE always done this. DiAne, we have never eaten meat on Good Friday.
DiAne: We? WE?!? WEEEE????? Have you any idea how many fucking Swiss Chalet dinners and Happy Meals I now must atone for? Kerrrryst! Why am I only finding this out now at the age of 35 that our family does this shit? Did that memo get lost in the mail or something? I've been paving my path to hell for all these years and nobody thought it important to mention this little tidbit of info. Sigh...

My own God
April 17, 2006 - Around 7:30AM, mildly stoned and not the least bit tired…………
I don’t have a problem with God. I never have.

I actually resent the fact that when referring to him in writing, the proper address {supposedly} is ‘Him’ and/or ‘God’. I can somewhat understand the ‘God’ part because it could be interpreted as a name, but I refuse to accept the capitalizing of the word ‘Him’. Give me a fucking break. And the only time Her is capitalized is when it appears at the beginning of a god-dammed sentence! No one refers to ‘him’ as ‘Her’, however I believe it would be justified if they did.

I laugh to myself when I am witness to ones who blame ‘god’. The fact is, I cannot stage a war with someone or something that I believe does not exist. I cannot have conflict with anything that I feel is unreal. My problem is with mankind itself. Mothers, fathers, friends, enemies, and all that I know to be fact, truth and real because I have lived the proof and seen it with my own eyes. Many of these people use ‘god’ as a scapegoat to avoid taking responsibility for their own inhumanities. An elaborate story created so long ago, it stands as permanent immunity. How fucking brilliant! Whichever god/faith believed, is proclaimed as the creator of mankind, yet I feel it is mankind who has created him. A creation fuelled by the need to be validated and as a bonus, exempt from the wrong they will soon commit or have previously committed. The supreme denial, the ultimate excuse.

Weakness,,,,,,,,,,, excused
Sins,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, excused
Inferiority,,,,,,,,,,,,,, excused
Killing,,,,,,,,,,, excused
Ignorance,,,,,,, excused
Fear ,,,,,,,,,,,,, EXCUSED!!!!!!!!!!

Replace the word ‘FORGIVEN’ with the word ‘EXCUSED’ and you will see my point in its purest form.
When all others question “why oh why would god let such tragedies happen?” I look to myself. Blame, pride, guilt or praise, I look to myself. When others look to “god” for all the answers, I turn to myself, and the few special souls that grace my life. I look to the people, the REAL people. People I can touch, connect with, feel and experience with my body and heart. That is my truth. That is MY FAITH!
Let’s Google the definition shall we?
HOLY SHIT WHAT HAVE I DONE?…………… I merely typed ‘definition faith’ in the search bar and now I’m up against a shit-load of recruiters and the saved! (Note to self: Install pop up blocker) I mean, shit… what do you care if I have faith or not? Seems to me your the one in need of validation buddy. Better go back to the good book and read it again, yikes!
Anyway

Merriam-Webster Main Entry: 1faith
Pronunciation: 'fAth
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural faiths /'fAths, sometimes 'fA[th]z/
Etymology: Middle English feith, from Anglo-French feid, fei, from Latin fides; akin to Latin fidere to trust -- more at BIDE
1 a : allegiance to duty or a person : LOYALTY
b (1) : fidelity to one's promises (2) : sincerity of intentions
2 a (1) : belief and trust in and loyalty to God (2) : belief in the traditional doctrines of a religion
b (1) : firm belief in something for which there is no proof
(2) : complete trust
3 : something that is believed especially with strong conviction; especially : a system of religious beliefs
synonym see BELIEF - on faith : without question

I hear words like trust, duty, promises kept, intentions, god, religion blah blah fkn blah and then………… the clincher ‘firm belief in something for which there is no proof’ WHAT THE FUCK? Oh My God, I think I pulled something, OUCH! Remind me to never do that again. Not that it would help any, I am my own worst instigator.
He apparently died for OUR sins. I suppose the future has already been written for me and I’m expected to commit a truck load of wrongs. Well golly, thanks. I better get started then! Responsibility for ‘sins’ is forgiven in the end, however take part in a ‘blessing’ and that same responsibility is taken for granted by the glorifying of the act itself. Saints and heroes are testament to that. Mankind’s desperate pursuit of good and the constant struggle they endure to attain it, this, is usually NOT ‘automatic’. The forgiveness of sins is expected, yet the responsibility of good is not. Should we not be expected to do ‘the right thing’? Shouldn’t that be a given? That is a part of ‘being’ and the essence of being a human being, no? If the forgiveness of sins is an automatic expectation, then committing good deeds SHOULD also be an automatic expectation. There’s no need for medals, badges of honour or rewards. Just fucking do it because it’s the right thing to do!
According to him, I will never be justified. Born a sinner (not that I had any choice in that matter) to eventually die a sinner?
Isn’t this an utterly futile human existence and a pointless road to drive on?
According to me, I will never understand true judgment by not practising it within myself.
Then that same road seems to have hope and faith.
I like to think as the years go by I justify my life even more with each passing day. With the passage of time I’m closer to good, closer to innocence. Living to eventually die, finally having achieved the good person I have always strived to be. Born a blank slate, nor good, nor bad but with an endless supply of potential. Life doesn’t attack or destroy innocence, it asks your intentions and delivers the raw truth. It's your choice if you want to corrupt your climb towards innocence.
Be your own god. Be your own judge. Be accountable to yourself, answer to yourself first. Everyone can be impartial if they uphold the solid truth. You will see that it is almost impossible to do the wrong thing if your core intentions are in the right place. Unfortunately this can only be achieved if denial is avoided completely which means shedding the denial that most religions provide. A ‘Human Being’ is one who is living their adult life practising self-truth. Thing is, mankind has already been programmed to point the finger. It seems outrageous for me to even attempt to envision a people that challenge their faith and begin to rewrite their position, but I have faith. (lol)
So, god has and will continue to provide people with the permanent excuse, which allows them to evade self-condemnation, and THAT is a ‘temptation’ most have not resisted. Ingrained in the psyche of humanity is the ‘CHOICE’ to run instead of seeking the real truth. Some say it’s subconscious but I feel the subconscious in this case that has been used as a convenient excuse to uphold that ‘CHOICE’.

All right then, so what’s at the core? Doesn’t anyone care what the bare truth of the matter is? Am I chasing a mind fuck? Will this questioning journey be worth it or worthless? Will I arrive at the end of this exploration only to discover that it was all just an elaborate distraction concocted within the depths of my own mind and that really, mankind was right all along? Should I believe in something I have no proof of?

Assuming one has read the above, I’m sure he/she would agree that I don’t currently practice any typical religious faith. I wasn’t raised to believe in any one particular faith that exists in the world today. Somehow I was overlooked. All my early experiences with any of that ‘nonsense’ is limited to the lord’s Prayer being recited during morning services in junior and senior kindergarten, and occasionally flipping past religious programs on the television during Christmas and Easter time. Most have said this is a tragedy because they think I have nothing to believe in and no foundation or guidance to support me through my life. Translation, I don’t have a scapegoat. They would like me to believe without outwardly saying it that they feel pity for me that I was forgotten and that my mind was supposed to be molded as THEY see fit. But I like to believe that in fact, it is ‘nothing’ more than a mere ‘blessing’.

So I suppose I'm 'Going to hell in a handbasket.'
The origins of this idiom are kind of fascinating huh.
*****Meaning*****
To be 'going to hell in a handbasket' is to be rapidly deteriorating - on course for disaster.
*****Origin*****
It isn't at all obvious why 'handbasket' was chosen as the preferred vehicle to convey people to hell. One theory on the origin of the phrase is that it derives from the use of handbaskets in the guillotining method of capital punishment. If Hollywood films are to be believed, the decapitated heads were caught in baskets - the casualty presumably going straight to hell, without passing Go.

Me thinks me fucked. Hey, umm just curious but when does this 'giving head' transaction take place anyway?

My Genius Is A Lazy, Stubborn, Bitch

Cough, Sneeze, Snore

I've been meaning to respond to this stuff but this flu is kicking my ass. I got a post a'com'n, I just haven't stayed awake long enough to finish it. This is my pathetic attempt to dig for sympathy but I forget that ones who come here are most likely as twisted as I am and clever enough not to fall for my shit. So ya might as well use this opportunity to swat at the hobbling doe, I know I would :P:P:P

"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
Hunter S. Thompson

Shitty Pickles

Alright, it’s 4:38 am and I’m a cranky ass beeyatch that is sweaty and achy from this nagging little virus and as a result REM is nowhere in my immediate future so I figured I’d embrace this time to pick a new bone. It’s been awhile huh? Yeah well I told you I suck at keeping a consistent blog! Whatev’s, lets get past this uncomfortable finger pointing because I got some new stuff for ya! I received an email yesterday evening containing the correspondence between my BFF and an online dating prospect and just felt this overwhelming need to share. I’m not sure whether she will mind or not but hey, she knows the drill. So if you’re pissed my trusty twisted polish firecracker of a friend, it fucking serves you right! It’s like handing a homeless person a Costco sized bottle of Aqua Velva and assuming he will use it to combat his obscene BO issues.

I realize I haven’t included the prior emails that led up to this titillating email from Mr. Tardster extraordinaire so you’re just gonna have to take my word for it that his response is a prime example of some dude lacking to give another human being ‘the benefit of the doubt’ and it’s obvious to me that his long list of accolades and super mega ego does not allow him the ability to sense light and flirty sarcasm. From the obvious snarling tone of his email, it’s clear he made a choice which was to interpret her words as arrogant and high maintenance. Is it really so naive to expect one to interpret online dialogue in a positive light? Or is it that I am just that incredibly naive, giving him way too much credit and that this is merely just an insecure cowardly man that resorts to word raping others for one measly fucking notch on the power struggle bed post? This reminds me of a word that I created a long time ago and I think can be applied here. (S.O your investment won’t be accredited, sorry ;)
Mr. T, you sir are in dire need of a thorough perspectomy!

Perspectomy
per·spect·o·my - (pr-spkt-m, l-)
n. pl. per·spect·o·mies
Surgical incision into the frontal lobe of the brain to sever one or more nerve tracts, a technique formerly used to treat certain mental disorders and favorably altering, adjusting ones point of view or outlook. A complex and labour intensive remodelling of ones perspective.

Hmm, reading his email again I feel confident that no prior dialogue is really needed but if the BFF acts on my humble early morning request, I will post the whole disastrous script asap. So without further ado, Mr. T the magnificent!

MR.T - I don't want to rush and judge you... That's not fair. You could be the best catch and you are just fed up with the dating world. Maybe you just didn't articulate what you are really about.

ESMERELDA BELLE - Well GAAAAAWWWLIE! Thank ya kind sir for all da help in artamaticulatin what eyez is allz aboot! Aww shucks Mr. T, I shure do apreshiate you not a’rushin to judge me or anyfin. Feelz gud you are given me the gud ole callege try.

MR.T - But if you are serious. Hahahahahahahaha Then that's funny.. You want a guy that's good looking, stylish and successful and you want him to Woo you. Hahahahahhahaha These guys don't wooo chicks. They go after the $$$$ and women come to them. And if you are so fine of a female and so desirable then men should be already doing this for you.. I know lot's of guys like this and they only do things for their woman after the woman has proven her worth.

ESMERELDA BELLE - You shure is a happy guy Mr. T with all that ha ha'ing n stuff. I'm so glad I gotz positive vibes that yer so kindly ashoot'in ma way. You iz really wize too and I promise that the wizdom yer wurds carry won ever be in vane, kross ma hart n hope 2 die. I s'pose Iz haf to git me one of dem apreashiation certifikets dat showz how much Im worth. Y'all no were I can git me one?

MR.T - So which one is it... Do you live in la la land and are looking for a guy to tell you a fable or are you a down to earth woman that's ready to meet someone special.
T

Insert big sigh... right... fucking... here.
LA LA LAND huh?
Your idea of reality seems really depressing Mr. T. No wonder you're so offensively passive aggressive and tearing a second asshole into some random chick on the internet. You're such a huge fucking grumpy pants from the Straub's that was so violently rammed up your ass, you'll never escape the scent of shitty pickles.

On the BFF's and my behalf, please accept our humble and sincere apologies and know that although poorly shown in the BFF's prior correspondence, we assure you that we are kind and generous humanitarians and are quite embarrassed to have offended someone battling such a debilitating handicap.
Also, judging by your cryptic ‘T’, I assume your given name is one that is incredibly unique to you and only you and that you wish to remain anonymous. However, I’ve compiled a few names that I came up with because I just love these quirky little puzzles and couldn’t resist deciphering your clever and oh so challenging code. Maybe you’re one of them cutting edge peeps and instead of using the name on your birth certificate, you use an adjective, noun or verb! A’int I fucking brilliant! I’m already well on my way to cracking your clever little code! WOOT ME!

(This ESMERELDA BELLE PWT character is really adorable don’t you think?)
So, ummm, I hope ya done mine, I wuz kinda cureous wat the 'T' stood fer so I came up wit a coupel. Writ me back on which one it iz will ya? Thanks! Yer a champ!

Turdbucket, Transparent, Twatt, Turd Burgler, Tit, Taco Paco, Testiclees, Teenytesties, Testiculanus, Testicularly Challenged, Teletubby, Turdmeister, Thizznfizz, Tuckenfit, TouretteTodd, TechnoTyler, TepidTampon, TeabagLess, TittyFuckLess

Or maybe I’m way off base and it’s just…

Tony - (Trans-Am, Mullet and Mamma’s number on speed dial although totally unnecessary since he only need venture up the stairs)

This should be a lesson to you Mr.T, however I highly doubt that was the result. See, there I go with the glass is half full scenario again! Ain't I just a ray of fucking sunshine!
So remember this Mr. Twatster, never, ever end a text raping that’s so incredibly open to individual interpretation, especially when it's one as epic fail as yours. That will most likely lead to creative assumptions that shift the scale to the others favour.

Cracked Pumpkinhead Express

I was perusing my IPhoto library and came across this photo which doesn't explain the email name but still relevant? Ugh, I'm hitting epic lame levels today. Stupid horoscope!

Libra
By Rick Levine
You may be suffering from a creative block today, as if someone pulled the plug on your imagination circuit and you cannot make it work. Unfortunately, you might not be able to latch on to a dream to lift yourself out of the malaise. Fortunately, someone special may come along and inspire you, catalyzing positive change. Your negativity could dissipate quickly if you are open enough to accept help when it's offered.

Damn you Rick Levine!!!!! You full of shit ahole.

ASStrology

What’s your view on Astrology? When you read your horoscope, to what extent does it affect your overall outlook and more specifically, how do you deal with knowing your future for that day? I have my daily horoscope set to my Google main page so when I log on, there it is front and center describing how my day is going to play out and what I should do with this impacting information. I have noticed that whenever a daily horoscope pops up that seems in my favour, it is received with an eerie “Omg, it’s so creepy how accurate these things are.” and may even forward it to the BFF. On the other hand, if it’s more on the not so positive side, I disregard it as silly astrology and that only flaky people follow that shit. When I forward that reading that promises a day full of cheesecake, secret admirers, a creative edge and big sums of money coming my way, the BFF responds with a kindly “Wow, yeah that’s pretty dead on.” but I know her well enough to know that she is just humouring me. I don’t question her out of character response because this reaction happens very rarely so I just revel in it as much as humanly possible. For the BFF to make an exception for something like this is quite frankly a little disturbing and I would think it an abuse worthy scenario which should be executed with absolutely NO MERCY whatsoever. It’s bizarre really and even kinda unsettling. Normally I wouldn’t let things like this slide, yet I find myself making the same exception for anything horoscope related. I suppose if I were to ostracize her for taking any of this remotely serious and calling her on believing in this shit, my happy and positive psychic future would cease to exist and that is definitely a risk I am not willing to take!

Libra - Sunday January 16, 2011
You have a number of good ideas today, but it may be difficult to focus on just one. You want to explore a wide variety of options to determine your future but don't want to be limited by any one choice. Fortunately, there's no reason for you to narrow your thinking at this time. Just enjoy playing with all the possibilities and leave the big questions for another day.

Smile n Nod

I’m getting the distinct impression that it’s very uncool to smile and nod at strangers in my area. I just got back from the gym at my community centre and a quick stop at Bob’s Convenience store and during that time I came across quite a few people and proceeded to do the 'smile and nod' thing to which they semi snarled with annoyance and quickly reverted attention back to their engrossing Blackberry’s. WTF? Is it the smile or the nod? Or is it a combination of both? I guess walking around J&F smiling and nodding at random people is on the same level as farting in the Bay Street TD Tower elevator that is packed to capacity and getting off on the second floor and leaving them to deal with your own special, just had Taco Bell for lunch pew. Is friendly acknowledgement of a fellow human being considered lame or even offensive? Don’t thugs smile? I guess they’ll smile when they find an unlocked, pimped out Honda Civic full of money and horny baby mamas. Horny baby mamas... kinda redundant huh. I must be losing my edge because I don’t remember ever walking around smiling at random people in my shitty, pay for gas before you pump it, urine scented neighbourhood.

It's Saturday Night So Let Loose and Get a Little Crazy! - Unboxing Videos is Concentrated FUN

I was having a discussion with someone regarding current trends on youtube and podcasting in general. He enlightened me to this new and fascinating trend gaining buzz status where people post video of themselves opening packages or as this one brilliant gentleman in the video below called it, ‘UNBOXING’. It seems that the general public are so starved for actual engaging activity that they have resorted to watching recorded video of some dude opening a package he received from an online purchase or an Ebay transaction. I have to admit, the anticipation is overwhelming and I find myself sitting at the edge of my seat waiting with baited breath to witness the miracle within. “Careful with that box cutter!” I blurt out, absolutely terrified he’s going to slice a finger. Rest assured, he does not. Phew eh! This intense short film can be a little much so just a warning to you, take a deep breath and try to keep your heart rate controlled for fear of shock induced paralysis. I wouldn’t be surprised that these types of videos will be accused of causing seizures just like those anime ones years ago.

I whip ma hair back n forth!

Alright, another blurb written from off the Trypolar Main Command Centre. Mission & location - Top Secret. What I can divulge is that it involves an ancient treadmill from which the terrain is of the most severe I have encountered. Here I trudge, and I ask myself “Self, is this worth it” in which the bitch replies “Shaddup and keep trudging fatso”. So I keep note of this important mission with shaking pen in hand and a crumpled piece of paper on the dashboard in hopes that one day when my predecessors struggle and waver as I have and desperately question to go on and endure the pain, they will heed my agonizing yet inspirational words and push through towards their own victory.

Wow, what a mess this piece of paper is, it’s pretty sad. Ghetto gym guy handed me a 4X6 form of some sort so I had to write around a pre form questionnaire of some mundane government waiver bullshit. Once I was finished my 45 minutes of excruciating torture I carefully inspected the scribbled mess. Let me tell you, I had a hard time decoding my own scribble. Way to go DiAne for staying within the Russian spy character. Is this what they call method acting?

That’s rhetorical MRACTORDUDE. Oh great, now I’m going to get a shitload of emails on POF correcting me of what method acting actually is. Save the wear & tear on your keyboards drama dudes. The condescending stuff you keep sending is starting to get on my fucking nerves. I’m a patient and humble woman but I’m just not in the mood to feed your starving egos anymore. Oh and stop trying to save me! I know smoking, pills and pot aren’t good for me. As said before, I’m fucking loopy not stupid. Some nobody that messages me saying “Smoking that stuff is so bad for you. You’re such a pretty girl that it’s a terrible shame you choose to go down this self destructive road. It's so unattractive”. You sir can BITE ME. Yes I’m a little miffed? Is that a word? Lemmie check.... Yep sure is lol.
miff |mɪf|
verb [ trans. ] (usu. be miffed) informal
annoy : she was slightly miffed at not being invited.

Well, maybe she wasn’t invited because she was always miffed? Just another thought amongst many. It’s close to muff huh. She was slightly miffed at not being invited due to her always being miffed which in turn caused a miffed muff.
Hey DiAne?
Yeah DiAne?
You’re fucked!
Same to you!
OH, I’m also having major problems getting a good playlist for when I workout so if you have any suggestions, fire em off. Everything up beat is incredibly icky and I tend to squint real bad because it physically hurts my ears and I end up with a splitting headache. I’m not the typical top 40 listener since it’s constantly rammed into my virginal ears on a regular basis whether at the gym, the mall etc. and that crap makes my ears bleed from it's repetitive soulless (for lack of a better word) music. What I don’t understand is why the masses don’t ask more of their music? Hey, I know art is subjective, everyone has different tastes but that shit below.. REALLY??? C’mon!!!! Am I one of those old fuckers that is bitching about the music these days or is my protest legitimate? Please tell me there is something I’m missing here, PLEASE I BEG YOU. I want to understand, please help this old fart understand why “I whip my hair back and forth” 3 gazillion times is .. well good music!
Hit play at your own risk.
And yes I'm bagging on a little kid, YES I AM. I would have thought her mom & dad would have steered her into a better direction, am I evil for thinking this?

Light on black or

Black text on white? I was told white text on black is hard on the eyes. Comments?

Okay, this should hold you over till I get my next weirdo freakish post ready.

Just search for Swedish Chef and watch em all. He's a wise and knowing guru, you could learn a great deal from such an exceptional being. Yodalike I'd say.
Enjoy.

BLAMO

This is not my creation but I thought I'd share it because it sounds like a pretty cool word to know. I asked him for the definition so that I could use it properly since he used it to describe my blamo stuff. Thanks for the compliment ;)

bla*mo
[bla-moh]

adjective:
a potent barrage and pungent blend, of cleverly strung together text, usually waking the receiver up from the deep comma or trance they have been accustomed to. : may even instigate the creation of new vocabulary for use in global language.

All Fockered Up!

So here’s the next profile update that a couple of you from POF were messaging me for. Don't you dare bitch that it's a fucking novel lol. I’m all fuelled up on Pams and Red Rose tea with a hint of cardamom so I’m good to go. Oh yeah, and you don’t have to remind me, I know I already failed that most important rule that I was preaching earlier about keeping a regular blog. God I’m such an assbag. I guess a goal of mine should be to aspire to be the best assbag I can possibly be and I think I’m off to a great start. You may not be expecting this approach since it isn’t exactly going to conjure the same mood of the prior two I belched out. Well, that’s me, a neurotic, mega trypolar me. I’m not going to candy coat it for you, it’s pretty fucking blechhhhhky yuck so if you want something more subdued, venture over to one of those barforamic reality TV shows and find out if they really can dance, or catch up on that fucktard Guida (What's her name again? Poopie, Snatchy, Snackie, ah fuck it who cares) that chick from that show in Jersey. I hear from all the water cooler chit chat that she plans to switch brands of hairspray to accurately maintain that Amy Winehouse knockoff doo, and well fuck me sideways, that’s just riveting stuff ain’t it! Pssssst, I have to confess, water coolers don’t exist in my world, tap water is just fine thanks.

So here comes the pain! Don’t worry, this pain ain’t for you, it’s all self inflicted babe. Ain't it nice we can call each other those cute pet names? The writing below might even be mildly amusing for you, kinda like witnessing someone slip and fall dead on their ass. Oh hey, maybe you noticed the excessive amount of words on this post and thought, “Fuck this I’d rather grab the sheers and do that manscaping I’ve been putting off.” Well then happy sheering to you and remember, the smaller the bush, the bigger the trunk looks. Here, I’ll even send you off with you’re own personal cheer that I wrote just for you.

Ra ra sis pumba!
Snip snip, don’t nick that dick
Ra ra you’re the man!
Mental note, fake and bake that tan
Ra ra this might sound crass!
But don’t forget to shave that ass
Yaaaaaay Weeeeeee

All right fine, nuff messing around. So here’s the story.
Someone caught my attention so I exchanged a few emails which progressed into instant messaging and then on to the phone. Meh, seems pretty typical so far huh, well it kinda is. We had 3 or 4 nights of life changing, charismatic phone chat that went on for approximately 5 fucking hours each time! Yeah I know crazy huh! On top of all that he’d send me cute morning messages that were so considerate and melted my ice cold poor excuse for a heart. Everything was right and super cool x’s 10, no really it was. This guy said all the right things and according to him, I was pretty fucking awesome. Wooo whooo, this feels amazing I thought. The banter and quirky talking was bringing that once forgotten teenage smile to my face again. Hmmm in hindsight I probably should have left it at that because having someone who you think really ‘GETS’ you and gives your ego a huge heave ho is extremely motivating and it would have most likely fuelled my comeback from the self induced straight-jacket and padded room I’d banished myself to, over 2 years ago. Unfortunate for me or him, depends how ya look at it, we just had to meet. I wouldn’t want to be one of those girls you guys constantly bitch about, the chronic online relationship ladies. I mean, shit we hit it off to such a degree NOTHING could go wrong, right? Wow, Me = Epic Clueless Dumbass. See this is where that idealistic, naive child that I’ve mentioned before comes into play, however this is one of those few times it should not be embraced. It’s just super dumb and I set myself up so bad that now I even laugh at the magnitude of my explosive brain fart.

So okay, I’m getting ready right and “Holy Keryst, none of my godamn clothes fit anymore! OMG what have I done!” I’m doomed. I’ve gone out to battle with no artillery and absolutely no fucking clue where I am. Although completely unintentional, I seemed to have overlooked that I happen to be one of those ‘only a face pic’ chicks’ that I’ve been ranting about for the past 5 or so days. FUCK, are you fucking kidding me! Whoa, whack me with a hypocrite stick. Whatever, I made the commitment to meet him and I’m a woman of my word. Best I can do is wear black, starve myself for 48 hours in a pathetic grasp for a miracle that would instantly put my body back to when it was 'da shit', and hope to high heaven he is so enamoured with my exceptional personality to hang for a month till I get myself back to my original 'fuck with the lights on' body that I once possessed. Spending way more time than the usual 5 minutes applying makeup while simultaneously trying to retrain myself to apply enough that it enhances, but not too much that I
1. look like I’m hiding freakish abnormalities
2. seem to be trying too hard and looking incredibly desperate.
3. overwhelm him with my paralysing beauty that he can’t even function (Yes genius, the 3rd one had a wee bit of sarcasm)

There’s also a good chance that I may have fucked up the makeup process altogether and what I thought looked good, actually parallelled a Marilyn Mansonesque style. I suppose I will never know for sure now, but what I do know is that I gave it the good ole try. I put the effort in didn’t I? Doesn’t that count for something? That previous statement is fucking stupid, who’s keeping count anyway? However, not realizing that in 2 years you sure can put on the weightage is kinda ummm bad and

pretty dumb on my part. But hey, my good ole trusted BFF assured me that I’m not a walking walrus even though I insisted that I was, only that this walrus had been slightly starved due to low quantities of plankton, smelts or whatever shit those blubbery mammals eat. The words troll and fugly came up as well in that conversation, however I’m not sure anymore of the context. The baked thing has a tendency to mess with ones short term memory which right now, I’m eternally grateful.

This was my first meeting/outing/encounter after 2+ years of being perched at my trusty MacBook Pro Shrine while chain smoking legal and not so legal substances and

just writing SHIT. Yes that’s what I called it, shit, and pages and pages of that shit are still being written on a daily basis, some for legitimate projects but mostly just to amuse myself and of course those two dudes that joined my blog feed. Thanks guys, I'm really flattered however the caring person inside me feels the need to suggest you seek regular therapy just in case my unstable, off the wall ramblings aren't damaging. Why the long hiatus? I felt that doing it would help to get my shit together which consisted of signing off men for awhile and quitting the chronic dating regime I’d fallen into. Surprising to me, that ‘getting my shit together’ never really panned out so the only benefit of that 2 years was a larger ass and a crap load of shitty writing about stuff that just doesn't really matter. Wow that made me laugh out loud, like really really hard. So why did I think I was ready to date now you ask? I dunno, I don’t remember the exact moment except that I was mildly drunk and baked and felt like visiting all my old friends at POF, because they just missed me so! All those familiar faces, it just felt like home and what better place to be than surrounded by all my friends on New Years Eve. I probably should have waited till I was just as ready on the outside as I am on the inside before jumping back into the severely polluted POF pond but my BFF assured me that if he liked me that much on the phone, a few extra pounds couldn't possibly make much of a difference. What a fucking crock of squirrel shit! Believe me, I have an 8” crock that is always full of squirrel shit just for these special occasions. This was almost as bad as when she told me that my first Brazilian wax wouldn't hurt all that much. I cursed her name so loud while Nadia the esthetician yanked at my unsuspecting, deeply rooted virginal pubes, that I swear I could sense her psychic brain give way and a super bionic mega

headache set in. If that was just my imagination, to cover my ass (pun intended) I willed my revenge with every psychic fibre of my being to also let her know "ARRRRGGGHHHH". Beeeyatch, yeah, you know who you are. Your probably the only one twisted enough to read this shit anyway. Relax, I still love ya and would take a bullet for you, but you are still a BEEEEEEYATCH. Seriously, you have to stop giving me so much credit that I fucking know what I'm DOING! It's time to accept that your friend here has square fucking marbles and a Barbie doll in the back seat of her car that has an extremely large bolt screwed through her head and creative H.R. Giger influenced permanent marker drawings all over her plastic perfection.

Back to the date, ugh.
I knew the moment I jumped into his car that he wasn't into me. Sure I’ve been out of the loop for a pretty long time but I’m confident that I’m not oblivious to this dudes thoughts which he conveyed through obvious body language which was probably something to the affect of “Fuck what’s the quickest way to get this chick outta my car without feeling like a total douchebag” vibe. Oh and don’t worry Mr. POF’r (that is kinda funny, Mr. Poffer, sounds like a bloke who’s light in the loafers) please know that I have absolutely no intention to sit here and bash you or nit pick about what I think isn't quite appealing about you. That’s not my bag, or in my bag of tricks. More importantly, I don’t have one of those cheap uncreative bags anyway. To be quite honest I actually kinda digged you and you seemed pretty cool. Despite some things that were not so great, they really didn’t affect the overall package and the positives outweighed the negatives. Trying desperately not to feel sorry for myself and genuinely taking him into consideration about his incredible disappointment that a humpback whale now sat in his passenger seat. I grinned like a baby that just farted and repeatedly fought the urge to fling myself out of the moving vehicle.

Movie theatre time! After 90 minutes of incessant fockerized lingo being inserted in every annoying dialogue scene throughout the entire movie, Little Fockers had ended. Quick bathroom break, brisk walk to the car and a pitiful attempt on the drive home to make me feel not so bad and mention “Yeah, we should do dinner sometime”. So now we're in the driveway and I leaned over, hugged him and thanked him for a nice night while resisting the urge to gut punch him for a dinner invite that was clearly a pity date and all empty words. Unfortunately, I'm fucking crazy, but not stupid.

So this morning I mustered up the ‘cojonies’ to instant message him. Those same cojonies weren't quite big enough to make the actual phone call to the ‘DUDE’. Anyway, after some brief lame weather chat "Wow, sure is a lot of fucken snow out there huh?” chit chat I typed the words that were the least painful that I could conjure. Something to the effect of “I caught that vibe last night and although disappointed, that’s cool. No point in sitting uncomfortable on Instant Messager.” Ignoring the Polkaroo in the living room that's bent over and hard pumping Ragedy Andy atop the toy box just ain't healthy and frankly just bad for my kharma. DUDE's response, “You’re an awesome girl, your just not what I’m looking for” TRANSLATION - You’re a fatso.

I'm not going to sit here and describe what a fatso is, only that I feel like one at the moment. Whether 10 lbs or 100 lbs overweight, it's up to the individual to decide. Ya know what guys, after reading this if you suddenly get the urge to ask me for a body shot, I’ll personally drive to your house regardless of distance and sit on you with my enormously humongous arse while repeatedly bitch slapping some sense into you although knowing full well that attempt is a complete waste of my time. Don’t get me wrong, I know physical attraction is very important but it’s your standards that seem a little skewed. A #5 rating seems to think he/she is worthy of an 8 but when I use the term rating, you instantly think looks. Ones exterior has never really been of much importance to me as long as you bathed regularly, didn’t have any major physical/mental deformities like a second head. I'd never get past that so make note dual head people, I'm just not your gal. Frankly, it fucking creeps me out. Am I shallow for not giving the two headed guy, or guys (eeek) a chance? If so then guilty as charged. Look out peeps, mega shallow gal coming through. Meh, I’m pretty sure I can live with that little tidbit of self disgust . What’s important to me is being mind fucked so intensely that I couldn’t even muster a thought the following day. A friend had just told me that I’m rare and most focus on the exterior which is just a nice way to say I'm fucking weird and on the brink of complete insanity. Well, as much as this ‘physical attraction, chemistry’ thing is kinda important to me too, the messages I received on my brief ‘PHOTO UP’ stint on that dating site were “Hey gorgeous, wassup. Happy New year hun” and to be honest, they were boring and I eventually ignored them. Although I did start out by responding to all of them thinking it only proper to be polite and said “Not much. Happy New Year to you too” I quickly realized that that only encouraged more mindless chit chat from effortless men and that the amount of emails I had received in such a short time, this correspondence would end up becoming a full time job if I were to answer them in my genuine 'DiAne' way which although kinda weird it would always be with the respect and common decency most lack nowadays. Mass mailing goes against the courting thing to begin with doesn't it? How does one get to know another if they don't care from the start. As a result I was fucking wiped, emotionally exhausted by trying to answer all these emails the way my convictions told me was the right way. As a result, there was only one choice and that was to bring it down and hit the reset button. I think now this tantrum is over and I'll shoot up those evil deceiving pics again and not because I want to deceive, it's because I'd rather be judged on my insane ramblings then my looks which will change again .. and ... again. If any interested guy actually read this SCHTUFF, in my opinion you've definitely earned a Sainthood, regardless.

I’m here spilling my guts with the raw truth, well my raw truth. Fucking chill ya testy shit, I don't plan on speaking for you so don't have a bloody coronary thinking that I think I know it all. Obviously if you've made it this far you really should know better. I know everything about nothing and that's on a good day. It’s hard enough for me to keep from getting on my own nerves.

Okay, IDEA TIME!!!!!!! AHEM
Introducing, PROJECT PROFILE OF THE DAY! Think in terms of THE WORD OF THE DAY
Have I scared you? Good! Maybe you'll go back to that profile of yours and give it a little extra effort for that special rock your world girl that's gonna come along real soon, PROMISE. Just another wonderRIFFICK idea that's paddling around in my head. I'll list a profile a day that I find ‘interesting’. Some may be funny and creative, some sad and slit your wrists worthy, others written by mature adults that write like kindergarten children. Whenever I come across a special profile, I plan on tearing that fucker to shreds and with your help if you feel the urge to join in on the constructive stoning, feel free and welcome. So glad you could join us and look forward to all your brilliant input. Exploitative and cruel you say? Umm well yeah, DUH. Fucking get over yourself. Seems this is the only shit that will light that long forgotten fire you and I still seek. Regardless, that’s the WWW for you. Sure it’s invasive, insensitive, assuming, judgmental, incredibly immoral and just plain evil at times however sometimes that can be kinda fun. Maybe this backwards learning experience will enlighten us all and that one day instead of offending the crap outta each other, we'll have regained that inner child that possesses the untainted hope for mankind we once had and finally shed the baggage that we think we don't have. Constructive criticism with the purpose to help you get that elusive special significant other by not sounding like such a dumb shit. What? I’m not making fun of the handicapped here for fuck sakes! They actually have an excuse but what’s even more puzzling is that some of them are actually much smarter than the average POF'r. I’m not kicking babies or coming to your house and shitting in the middle of your living room. This is the net and the content, although I’m aware some is copyrighted, I really doubt yours is. So, beware Mr/Mrs I'MTIREDOFTHEBARSCENE, we're coming for you! This is a group effort of two so far and we're recruiting all genders, classes and races (a little World of Warcraft reference there. Yes, I'm a recovering WoW addict, now back off). Send me those stories and profile links that pushed you so close to the edge you wanted to toss your laptop off the 16th floor.
So here it goes. Hit publish DiAne, FUCKING HIT PUBLISH YOU CHICKEN SHIT!
Click!

The above is a weeks work of writing so I'm out to walk the dog, hang out at the gym (fat arse remember) and I'll begin the search tomorrow, however if someone else has a submission shoot it my way and I'll get it up pronto ;) PROJECT PROFILE OF THE DAY is a collaboration. Maybe then this blog will actually BE CONSISTENT! Meh, remains to be seen.

DiAne OUT!

I'm feeling the need to watch this again. Torrent time!!!!

Today's profile - Menu special, unwanted advice

Today’s ramblings...

It’s QUIET, not quite.  I think you should quité your attempt at writing a legible profile.  Maybe express yourself in imagery, draw pretty and expressive pictures to get your point across?  I don’t know, just trying to be helpful is all.  That’s me, Miss Helpful ;)  Bottom line, you’re not quite getting it so best you just be quiet.

Just seeing what’s out there?  Don’t worry, Diane will tell you and she’s only been here 4 days!  You know what’s out there Mr. Imlooking4mysolemeat, lazy people that won’t put forth the simple effort of spell check.  Christ, computers come with that nifty little tool and those little red lines under the words your typing are fucking telling you something!  Don’t ignore your trusty computer sir, it’s a wonderful tool and it’s trying to help you not appear to be a complete moron.

People who have LONG LISTS of criteria of what they ‘WANT’ but WANT TO GIVE never seems to make that list.  Want to know why you’re single?  No?  Meh, I’m gonna tell ya anyway because what I WANT right now is to tell you why.  lol  You’re single because you choose to be.  That’s it.  It’s not the other persons fault, it’s not that women are too picky or that all men are assholes.  IT’S YOUR FAULT.  Oooh, hurts don’t it.  Took me awhile to accept that little bit of concentrated truth too, I know.  Yeah I include myself in the above theory, nobodys safe.

I get accused of being angry and bitter and I’m neither of those, well within reason lol.  Condescending maybe ;).  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I know better and that I am better than you.  Contrary to that, I have the same insecurities and fears most have, I just don’t bullshit myself in believing otherwise and I make a conscious effort every day to improve myself.  None of this “take me as I am” crap.  Nobody’s perfect but everyone should strive for perfection.  It shows you still care!  Any less and your a lazy ass couch potato that has given up making an effort and wants to be served a screw and a bj on a silver platter.  You want to find your soul mate?  Then show you actually possess a soul.  You want your heart to soar, unlock the cage door.  Unfortunately, I cannot do these things for you.  Well, I can but I’m not going to do that anymore.  Why you ask?  Because all the dudes I have done that with in the past are happily married now with the woman they met right after me (all but one, unless you got married in the last 4 years, Mr. S.O).  Now that’s a kick in my ass ain’t it.  I hold no ill will, everyone deserves to be happy. I just don’t want to be the director anymore.  I want to be the leading lady and I don't care if that's too much to ask (This is not entirely true. I do care but it just feels good saying I don't :P).
 
Chat?  ewww, Does anyone say that to another in real life?  “Hey, wanna chat?” ewww.  That has creepy yuck written all over it.

If you consider yourself unique, most likely you’re a sheep.  Hey!  That kind of rhymes.

Putting “Must not do drugs” as one of your must haves and then telling me in an email that you’ll make an exception for me is extreme douchebaggery, yeah, it means you’re a douche.

Speaking of pot, yes I said it, pot pot pot, how about marijuana?  Ganga, splif, joint, reefer.  I’m hoping your getting the direction this is going but I won’t hold my breath, I enjoy breathing.  420 friendly although once a clever little saying, and I commend the person who whipped it up at the time, now just seems chicken shit and when I see it written by my fellow mj smoking peeps, the ganga gods that be actually kick a puppy.  Yes!  It’s true!  Hundreds of puppies are suffering from internal bleeding and brain swelling because of YOU!  FOR SHAME my breathren, use the force for good not sheepdom and put forth the effort and creativity that the magic pipe so abundantly provides and come up with your own clever saying, or else just call it what it is.  If you lack that clever gene, being a pot head you must have a stoner friend somewhere that can give you a little guidance.  We are a helpful and generous people.

Be honest or at least learn to bullshit better!  Pretending to be something you're not just prolongs the inevitable.  When that inevitable comes which is usually after I’ve spent the night... I will most likely get kinda pissed.

Do chase!  Yeah, it works!  Although maybe I’m just not chase worthy?  NAWWWW It’s not me, it’s you.

I used to have a blog on Vox but they shut down and all my mindless yammering got buried in the great WWW graveyard never to yammer again.  Not that I updated it regularly which is one of the primary rules of keeping a blog.  Well, that’s what the self proclaimed blogging professionals list as the most important rule of a successful blog.  Who cares, this paragraph sucks donkey nuts and I have no idea wtf I'm talking about, NEXT!!!!!

I kind of wish POF had a more blogging approach to the dating/relationship online search.  Tell us about that date you went on last night.  Kind of like a POF/FACEBOOK thing.  Sure, that makes it kind of easy for the people with not so good intentions to mess with you, but that’s what privacy settings are for.  For example.. take the POF UI (User interface :P)  into consideration.  It’s fairly basic, the colours are simple, light blues, shades of grey.  Straight forward, like Facebook.  The only thing missing is that there aren't more pages and a more personalized blog type look.  I’d think it would be cool if I could read ‘his’ past profile write ups.  What if he doesn’t write all dat gud?  Insert media, photo’s, the youtube video of the music he's currently listening to.  I could flip through this online collage of what's currently going on with him/her, maybe read how he drank too much on New Years and crashed on his buddies couch only to wake up with gum in his hair and a makeover from his buddies creative children.  Real life stuff!  Not this mundane “What I’m looking for” crap.  If I see one more guy write, “I’m not into the bar scene” I think I’ll pop a vein, or cry uncontrollably while rocking back and forth in the far corner of my room.  I say, ENOUGH WITH THE BENDING OVER!  Tell me your pissed today but I can see that you weren’t yesterday so I know your a balanced guy because nobody is ON and blissful ALL THE TIME.  Of course if every post to your awesome singles blog is negative.. well, then you got issues and umm.. yeah.  Good luck with that.  Hey, I’ll forward my therapists info, because THAT’s what people should do.  Helping hand, common decency and overall respect right?  I’m idealistic you say?  I’d rather be in my dream world than in your real one.  I’d even bet, you’d rather be in mine too.  It is a pretty fucking cool place, really.  Going bald?  Getting a little larger in the hips?  Hairs now growing in places that once never did?  All okay in my world because we all know and are aware that this stuff exists and it’s expected because.....

that’s life.

The key here is to deal with it.  Strange concept huh, but stick with me here for a sec because my insane ramblings might be onto something, or not :P.  For instance, going bald.  Yep it happens but what you do about it makes the world of difference.  If you deny it and sport that magical comb over that ‘like totally fools me and all’, then you’re not in my world.  Shave your freaken head and own that shit because it’s sexy as hell. Match it with a goatee and instant bad ass sexy.  Larger in the hips?  Work out, plain and simple but don’t expect to have the hips of an 18 year old unless you’re a decked out tranny because it’s just not going to happen.  Only showing photos of your face is lame and he’s going to see your hips sooner or later anyway.  I’d rather he not meet up with me at all then get pissed from misrepresentation and sneak out during a bathroom break leaving me there sitting on my fat ass wallowing in Jalapeño Poppers and an over priced double shot Rye & Ginger.  The hair growing out your ears.. well duh, that’s an easy one and if I need to walk you through the proper use of tweezers, do all of us the favor and just kill yourself.

Sorry, INTERMISSION now.  I need to have a really good laugh at that last comment.  It just makes my stomach all giddy and excited knowing the amount of flack I’m going to get from that one.

Queue the dancing hot dogs and milkshakes  la la la

Okay, I’m back.  Fresh cup of tea in hand and possessing the passion and motivation of a 20 year old knowing that one day he’s going to get discovered and be the next Kurt Cobain.  Yeah, you’re right, I am terribly idealistic.  Sigh, but hey, I’d like to think that’s part of my charm.  Fucking clueless and thinking my wisdom surpasses all.  A major superiority complex cancelled out by an equal amount of self worth issues.  Wonderful combination don’t you think?

Go big or go home, isn’t that the saying?  If I’m going to sound full of shit, might as well do it in a big way.  Presentation and style, shazzam.

Okay, now for all the OMG’ers. I really really don’t condone or suggest killing yourself as being an option and I think it’s a really really stupid thing to do.  It’s called sarcasm, mmmk.  If you’re offended, well then ummmm go kill yourself?  HAHAHAHAHA, I nearly peed my pants....... again!  In all seriousness, (btw don’t get used to me using disclaimers because it rarely happens.  I’m just in a generous mood today) Killing yourself is bad and umm stupid and umm when ya get that nasty urge to jump or tie the noose or whatever your flavour, immediately run to your medicine cabinet (or someone else's if need be) and take a couple of pills, anything that’s name ends in the letters ‘PAM’.  That should steer you in the right direction but in the off chance it doesn’t quite cut it, repeatedly whacking yourself in the head with a large heavy skillet should do the trick.  Divert the pain and distract.  It's quite difficult to wallow when you're wishing your head would just STOP POUNDING.  Things are relative and most stuff can be fixed with a mild perspectomy.  In the end, GET OVER YOURSELF.  Nobody is exempt from tragedy.  Thinking you're so special and don't deserve to suffer at some point in your life is weak.  Shit happens.

I know, I know, I'm gonna change lives here with this abundance of wisdom.  No need to thank me, really.  Just knowing that you've plucked that ear hair is payment enough.

December 31, 2010 New Years Rant

New Years Eve pity buzz write up.

“In my own words” Ah well, whose words would they be anyway? Do people actually plagiarize this crap/stuff/important intense personal background writeups? (my one and only pitiful attempt at gratuitous political correctness) So where would one acquire a ‘good profile example’ and how does one make that distinction in the first place?
Wait, I’ll be right back... I’m going to peruse the female 40 somethings and see what they have to say......
ACKKKKKKKK!! If I wasn’t me I’d be speechless. Really, I’m ... I dunno ... sad. Is that the feeling? Sadness, defeat, pity, what is this feeling? No wonder we can't seem to find that special someone that rocks our world and sets a fire under our asses, we're all full of SH&T!
Sigh, I’ll be right back again, I need to hug my dog. Hugging my dog always seems to keep the vomit from creeping up and calm those scary monsters. Wow that previous sentence was pretty cheesy huh. Shaddup, this is my profile and I’ll write what I want ;) I’ve gotten no interest so far so there’s no worry I’d offend the 2 dudes that glanced my page in the last bazillion years. My friend says “Diane, you need to put a photo up!” Yes, that’s my name. Wooooo, the cats outta the bag. How many unstable, nutbar girls named Diane on the planet! I’m sure I’m safe... for now. Maybe not, whatever pfft.

I used to write stuff here for others, I suppose to entice and stand out from the rest? Now I’m finding that I’m writing this mostly just to amuse myself. And what's with the pictures I've seen on here for the past .. ohhhh... 6+ years. The same friggin photos! Seriously, you guy in the blue convertible, yeah you know who you are ;) wink wink... that photo is at least 6 years old! And I use the words ‘at least’ with great emphasis. Yes, I know, that means I've been coming back here for years. Yep, it's sad, I know and I’m completely at peace with that so bugger off (I’ve got a steady lol’ing going on now). Okay, so this is how it goes, I meet 'him' and date him for about a year or so and then some icky back and forth for a couple months and then, it's done in about 2. So basically I average every two years ... or so, give or take. Sometimes sooner if I screw up or sometimes he screws up. Either way, it's screwed. There I go amusing myself again. Holy sh*t this is fun, I should have done this a long time ago. Instead I wait till New Years Eve while mildly buzzing and incessantly typing about crap you couldn't care less about and feeling sorry for myself. Well, not entirely, it definitely is better than being out on the town with some a-hole and I have to cover my bill which is seriously inflated due to New Years, just so I don’t feel ALONE.

Ya know what? I've always had difficulty writing stuff here and now I find myself worried I'm gonna run outta space. Yes, yes, I know.. .OUTTA AIN'T A WORD. I used it to sound casual and easy going, why? Not a clue. I'm also finding it incredibly difficult not to swear here because truthfully I swear more than a sh*t faced sailor yet if you saw me in person with my mouth shut (which although hard to believe, does happen more often than you may think), you'd never guess I'd speak so ... umm trashy. No feathered bleached hair, blue eye shadow, pwt here. Ha, look at me typing as though you give a sh*t what I ramble about. I now fall into that category of being one of those self absorbed people that think others are interested in reading their blog and scanning the thousands of photo's from their hundredth trip to Cuba, Rest assured, I've been to most European countries as that newly divorced woman with intentions of taking over the world with that idealistic second chance, reborn woman sorta kitch. Oh and a brief bout in Florida for a Disneyworld experience when I was 11, but Cuba, never been.
I need another Caesar so I’ll be back in a bit to add to this ongoing sad “IN MY OWN WORDS” Solo New Years Eve rant.
Advice to y’all if you’re interested that is lol. Pour yourself your favourite drink, take a couple hauls off the magic pipe, watch some Hilarious House Of Frightenstein reruns and munch on some of those yummy new flavoured Goldfish crackers. Crunchy = Goodness. Substitutions are always good too ;)
D