It Started With Coffee Creamer...

Holy. Fucking Shit. I am so thoroughly pissed that I cannot think straight. I literally cannot comprehend what is happening at my work, and the immature fucker that I work with. I am beyong baffled at how adults can have such behavior as this person does. And the best part? I don't even know who it is.

So it all started with my coffee creamer. At my work, we have coffee grounds catered in by a coffee company. HP provides the sugar and creamer, and unfortunately, the creamer is the nasty powder shit. So, I brought my own creamer to work so that I could enjoy some coffee at work. I started noticing that I was going through it extremely fast. What the fuck? I did not go through 1/4 of my coffee creamer in one day. So, I started writing my name on it. And still, the fucker continued to use it. Now, I started putting a Ziploc bag over the top, and that fixed the issue. Awesome. No more food thief! Or so I thought...

As Christmas time rolled around, everyone came back to work after the holidays with tons of candy and food that they had received, me included. I happened to get some fucking delicious chocolate covered orange sticks, pretty much the best candy ever. So, I slowly munched on them at my cubicle, and eventually could eat no more. There was half of a box left when I set them down. One week later, I opened them to grab one, and guess what I found? THERE WERE ONLY 5 FUCKING ORANGE STICKS LEFT! That mother fucker took them OFF OF MY DESK!! Are you fucking joking? At this point, I'm starting to get pissed. Things were getting out of control. So I put a note on my desk that said, 'Stop eating my food! I'm a poor white girl!' The thievery stopped for 2 months.

And then today, I saw that they had struck again. A few weeks ago, I went to the grocery store and bought some things to eat lunch at work. One of the items was salad dressing. I carefully wrote my name on it, knowing that it would have to be stored in the break room fridge. I haven't touched it since. Today, I opened the fridge, and that's when I saw it. That fucker had taken the fucking wrapper off a MY new salad dressing, and used a fucking third of the bottle! Which is CLEARLY marked with my fucking name!! Are you fucking kidding me? Oh my god. I almost lost it.

Exactly how I feel right now. Fuck.

Now. This is what I don't fucking understand. I make less than anyone else in my office. They can afford to buy their own fucking salad dressing! And also, who the fuck takes someone elses food without fucking asking, or even telling them that they're going to use some?! Seriously, that is so fucking rude and inconsiderate, and I cannot even comprehend the thought process they have while taking my fucking food. And the best part? I am the ONLY ONE in the ENTIRE FUCKING OFFICE that has been a victim of this! THEY ARE TARGETING ME! And whoever this fucking bitch is, I will find you, and I will shank you.

Having Sex

Well everyone, it has taken me a while to write this one, and even longer to post it, for fear of being judged or called a slut. But you know what? I'm not a fucking slut, and actually the farthest thing from a slut, so if you wanna say that, you can shut your trashy little mouth and move along. Heaven forbid I have pre-marital sex... Judgemental bitches. Ok. Here you go.

Sex. Everybody does it at some point in their life. Well, unless you die a virgin, and then you have my greatest sympathy. But you also should have taken the initiative and just done it. Grow some balls and get laid! Just kidding. Don't be a slut about it. But really. You no longer have my sympathy. Ok moving on.

When you are younger, or a virgin, or about to get married, you wonder, "what's it gonna be like?" And you get this image in your head of a romantic scene, with candles and roses and sexy lingerie. You think of that scene in The Notebook where his pants come right off, and afterwards she says, "that's what I've been missing??" in this happily shocked voice. Let me tell you. Your first time is going to be NOTHING like this. So you can just knock that fantasy right out of your pretty little head, and prepare yourself for the most awkward moment of your entire life.

First off, you're going to feel awkward as fuck. This person has never seen you naked. They've never seen that weird little scar or birthmark, maybe you have stretch marks, and maybe your thighs jiggle or you aren't at your 'perfect weight.' You're gonna be self conscious.

Clothes do not come off nearly as easy as they go on. You will fumble around with the fabric. You can't find their zipper, and all of a sudden a bra hook is some form of alien science that hasn't yet been discovered by human hands. "How the fuck does this work??" will go through your head multiple times. Someone will probably end up leaving their socks on.

Girls. "Where is that noise coming from? Is that my VAGINA??" I can guarantee that this thought is going to run through your head at some point during your sexual activity. If not your first time, then your second or third. It is going to happen. Do NOT be alarmed by this! It's normal, and it happens to the best of us. He's probably just going to think it's funny and laugh. Don't be alarmed by that either.

And afterwards? You aren't going to fall straight asleep. You're going to think about how nasty you are, and run to the bathroom in pursuit of a nice shower. "What is this liquid all over me? WHO'S liquid is all over me??" You're going to think about how awkward it was, and how it didn't go nearly as you expected, and then you'll hate yourself a little bit for getting your expectations so fucking high.

Don't worry. These awkward moments go away and eventually, you will no longer care if someone left their socks on. You'll realize that your partner thinks you're sexy, despite that scar from when you were nine, and that everything you hear/see/feel is completely normal. But until then, I wish you the best of luck.

Religion Is Not A Valid Reason

Oh, readers. You need to know that I am so thoroughly peeved right now. So fucking peeved! Why, you ask? Because some people are so fucking stupid! That's why. So, I saw this picture, and it needs to be discussed.

Now, this may not really seem like a big deal to most people, but there is something so incredibly wrong with this. Marriage is between you and your husband, and yes it is between God, if you are religious. But a marriage is not to fucking glorify God! Ok? And this picture brought back a memory of something else that has bothered me for a while.

The other day, me and my friends went to an old person home to do some community service and just visit with the people that lived there. They get lonely! We saw the ad to visit on KSL and thought, hey, why not? It could be fun! Holy fuck, almost everyone there asked if we were LDS. And when we said no? They were suprised that 'normal' kids came to do service. Um, religion is NOT the only reason people do service for others! And it is NOT the reason you should get married, either!

So many people go and do stuff simply for the purpose of religion, or getting into heaven. Now, I am not a religious person. But I can tell you right now that if heaven and God are real, then doing stuff simply for the purpose of going to heaven is not going to cut it! What the fuck happened to being a good person, just to be a good person? What happened to thou shalt not judge, and thou shall not lie? Because going out for service when you don't want to just for the good of it, is living a motherfucking lie! Ok? You can fight this and yell at me and say I don't know what I'm talking about, but it's true. I was once told "good luck when you meet Jesus" because I made the statement that I don't judge people for being gay. Honey, if I'm going to hell, I hope they put me on the opposite side of you, because I do not want to sit next to your bitchy judgemental self for all eternity.

If you want to be a good person, then live an honest life. Be a good person to be a fucking good person! Do service to make others feel good, and get married because you love someone, not because you want to get into heaven.

Adios, Bitchachos!

This past year has royally fucked me over. And I just need to say hallelujah! In one week and two days, the lease that almost killed me will be over! And I am so fucking excited I can't stand it! Can I get an amen, brothers and sisters?!

So, I know a question that I have been asked a lot is, "If you couldn't afford the lease, then why did you sign it?" Well, first off, I'm not fucking stupid. I wouldn't have signed it.. If I had really had a choice in the matter. I moved into my apartment with my ex, who decided to leave and royally fucked me over when he did, leaving me with a costly apartment. I knew that I was fucked. And I still had almost the entire year of the lease left to stick out by myself. Fuck. And if I wanted to break my lease? It would've cost me three thousand fucking dollars. I'm poor white girl and I cannot afford that shit. So, I had to stay.

Now, I would like to tell you all of the things I hated about this apartment, and the management. First off, they fine and fee you for fucking everything. Literally. I had to pay for the parking stall that went with my apartment, even if I didn't want to park there. $25. Fuck. Oh, I have a dog? $300 deposit and an extra $35 a month. $175 if you pay your rent late. Fuck my life. This is what I've had to deal with for an entire fucking year. Oh, and that pet deposit? It was supposed to be refunded to me, but unfortunately, they're using it all the clean the mother fucking carpets. It does not cost that much to clean the mother fucking carpets! Fuck you guys. If I had problems with my neighbors, it was my fault for moving there. Which, for the most part my neighbors were nice, aside from the fact that I could hear them having sex. They were so fucking loud! I mean, I don't care how good it is, stop your screaming, bitch. You have neighbors.

However, aside from all the fees and late night sounds of sex sessions, I made it the entire year. There were times when it got tough. I almost sold Tito a few times to get the money I needed for rent, and thank god for all the times my parents came to my rescue with boxes of food and tampons. Thank you guys, for everything you did to keep me afloat.

I am so happy to be done with this fucking lease, and I am so excited to be in a better place in my life financially. Thanks to everyone who has helped me through! You guys are fucking awesome. And goodbye, Riverbend. You will not be missed.

Calm Your Shit

Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen! I have such an awesome story for you (as requested be written about by my facebook friends and blog readers that witnessed this). First off, I would like to say 'fuck you' to the bitches who get offended by stupid shit. Seriously. For those of you that know me personally, you know that I am a nice person. I am nice to people and I don't cause drama (for the most part.. Everyone has their moments) and I really get along with pretty much anyone. You also know that I have some strong beliefs and points of view, and I am not scared to share those with everyone! Now, I decided to post something on Facebook this week that I felt was not offensive at all. I was simply stating that I am at a point in my life that I am happy with, even though I am not doing what most people my age are. This is what it was:

As you can see, a lot of people agreed with me. Because it's fucking true! Now, I have a lot of friends that are married and having children that are my age. That's ok! I'm happy for them and the lives that they are living. I just don't feel like I'm ready for that quite yet! Everyone else can do whatever the fuck they want. I don't fucking care! But apparently, this status seemed to offend some people. One person in particular. This was her response:

Uh, what? Ok. First off, I really don't think my status sounded judgemental. First off, not once did I say anything to the affect that I thought everyone else was stupid or dumb for getting married so young. I simply stated that I'm one of few not married, and that I'm ok and happy about that! Bitches need to calm their shit.

Now, it wouldn't be so bad if it was anyone else. I like Clair. We got along great in high school, I went to her wedding, which was beautiful, and she is generally a nice person. But she is contantly posting negative things on Facebook about her life and her daughter. And then she takes personal offense to my status. Honey, I understand if you are unhappy with your life, but don't fucking take it out on me! She should know that I'm happy for her! I've told her multiple times. But, whatever.

So, I make the comment that I'm not judging her, and I had quite a few friends comment about how they knew I was in no way judging anyone. That's not my thing. Live and let live. Right? So she doesn't respond, and I'm thinking, holy shit. This girl is fucking pissed! So I decide to send her a message and say hey, I'm sorry that I offended you because that's not what I intended. Guess what? She deleted me! Ha! Oh god. Really? I understand that I offended you, and I'm sorry, but this is fucking ridiculous. Why are you taking such offense to this? It was not a big deal! You need to calm your shit, and understand that the status wasn't fucking about you! But whatever. If you want to live a life where you're unhappy and take offense to everything, that's fine with me. But don't fucking take it out on me. Calm your shit, and grow the fuck up.

However, I would like to apologize to anyone else that was offended. I am in no way apologizing for what I said, but I am apologizing to those of you who took it the wrong way. As I said before, that was not the purpose! However, if you know me well enough that we're Facebook friends, then you should know that I didn't mean to offend anyone. So, fuck you.

The end.

Rainbow Poop

Oh readers. I love you so much. You guys are awesome. Just so you know. Ok. My dog is fucking retarded. Now, first off let me tell you that I feed him regularly. He has fat rolls on his shoulder blades. And yet he acts like I starve him and never feed him. He has a problem.

Last night, Andrew and I went to dinner, and had an amazing night. We came home, and for the second time this week, Tito had eaten crayons. Crayons! What the fuck? Why in the fuck would you eat crayons? They are waxy and covered in paper, and of all the things you could eat, you chose crayons. Ok. Prepare yourself for the waxy rainbow poops that you're gonna have to squeeze out your ass, you little fucker.

Now, it's not like I had these crayons laying out on my floor for him to just play with as he pleased. I don't even know where he found them, considering I had to throw my last box of crayons away, because he fucking ate all of them. He just finds crayons and eats them, leaving me with paper remnants and half eaten Crayola's to clean up.

Now, as if this wasn't bad enough, I walked out of my room this morning to find him chewing the handle of my hammer. What the fuck?? First off, how did he even lift that to get it into the living room?? That thing is heavier than he is! Secondly, why the fuck would he choose to chew on that, instead of one of the billion toys that were scattered all over the living room? You know that shit does not taste good!

So, I have concluded that my dog does, in fact, have downs syndrome. The end.

A Different Fairytale

Ok, readers. I know that the majority of my blogs are written for humor, and to make you laugh. But I also feel like I want you guys to know me, and who I am. I want to share with you not only the good times, but also the bad. So, today I am going to tell you about the greatest struggle I've had in life.

Every girl has their fairytale fantasy. They find their handsome prince, get married and have a family and live happily ever after. The end. When I was fifteen, part of this dream for me was shattered. I was told that I couldn't have kids. I am now 20 years old, and this has been confirmed by 3 other doctors.

Now, when I was fifteen, this was extremely heartbreaking for me. However, I didn't really realize how it would affect my entire life, and how the pain of knowing I would never be a mother would grow as I got older. It is something that has been a constant ache for me, and something that I will never truly accept.

Everyone always tells me that I can adopt, and yes. I am aware of that. And I am sure that one day, when I'm ready, I will. And I will love that child more than anyone has loved a child before. But I will miss out on the pregnancy. I won't get to make an announcement on whether I'm having a boy or a girl. I'll never wake up in the middle of the night, look at my husband and say, "It's time!" There will be no rushing to the hospital, no calling the family and telling them that my child had been born. That is not in the cards for me.

I can never explain to you the devastation that this has brought to me. Maybe one day, I will be blessed with a miracle. Maybe I won't. Who knows. But this has played a large part in the person that I have become. It has taught me that there is nothing more important than family. It's taught me to take things as they come and make the best of them, and to find the silver lining on every cloud. It has been the hardest thing I've ever dealt with, but I am so happy that I have learned so much for it. I am happy with myself and my life, whether I am getting the traditional 'fairytale' or not. I will still have my fairytale, it just may not be the same as everyone else's. And that is okay.

My Tattoo Experience

I swear I get more badass every day. Can I just tell you that? I've come such a long way in my life, but the thing that astounds me the most is what a badass I've become. Just kidding. But really. We got a badass over here. So, let me tell you the story of my first tattoo.

As most of you know, I was supposed to get this tattoo on Wednesday, but they were too busy. So we re-scheduled for Friday at six. Friday rolls around, and they call and re-schedule for nine o'clock. At this point, I'm getting irritated. Like, I made a fucking appointment for a reason, bitches. But oh, well. Let's just go at nine.

So Andrew and I walk in there, and I fill out the paperwork. No biggy. We're playing tetris-which I totally kicked Andrew's ass at, by the way-and we're just waiting. And fucking waiting. I'm not too nervous at this point. I'm thinking, 'This is no big deal. It's just a little needle.'

Tattoo guy comes out. "They're prepping my station. It'll be about ten minutes."

Oh god. I swear to you that I got so nervous so fast that my stomach fell out of my butt. Oh god, this is really happening. I'm really doing it. I start shaking. Bad. And I had no control over my body. At all. My muscles tense up, and I can't stop shaking, and I have to pee, and of course at that moment in time my body decides it needs to fart. Attempting to control all of this at one time was fucking hard. Luckily, I did. Thank god.



'I Love You' in my
dads handwriting.



So the guy yells from the back to come over. Oh jesus, I'm going to die. I am walking to my death bed right now, so please pull the covers down so that it'll be ready for me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god.

I was so nervous. I don't remember what happened next. But all of a sudden he pokes me with the needle. Oh... That really wasn't that bad. Why am I freaking out? I can do thi-OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT HURTS SO FUCKING BAD. FUCK ME NOW.

That was my though process. And then it was done. It took, at most, five minutes. And I was done. Holy shit! I got my first tattoo. And I didn't die. Nor did I cry. Holy shit! How did that happen? I thought for sure I would cry.

But now it's done. And I couldn't be happier with it.



Tattoos Are Cool

Once again, it's been too fucking long between blogs. I'm so sorry if I've let you down.. Not. If you're upset, you can get the fuck over it. Ha! Just kidding. But really... Anyways. Last night Andrew and I went to go and get my first tattoo... Unfortunately, they were too busy and we had to reschedule for Friday. But it's okay! I don't mind. It's still going to happen. What I want to talk about is people that bitch about other people's fucking tattoos.

You know exactly the people I'm talking about.

"Your body is a temple, blah blah blah."

"You know that lasts forever, right?"

"Don't do it, it's trashy. And I'm a stuck up bitch."

I would just like to say to these people, fuck you. First off, it's my fucking body and I will do with it what I want. When I decided I wanted a tattoo, I wasn't thinking about what other people would think of it, or hoping everyone else would like it. It's something that I want to do for myself, so you can back the fuck off and keep your opinions to yourself. You don't like tattoos? Don't fucking get one! Simple as that. But don't tell me that I can't either. Bitch.

Secondly, don't judge me. Getting or having a tattoo does not make me trashy, ghetto, or irresponsible. I am the same person, with or without tattoos. I don't judge you because you DON'T have them! So what makes you think you should judge me? And if you were to meet someone and become best friends, and 3 months later find out they had a tattoo, would you judge them? Ya, didn't think so. So don't fucking judge me.

Thirdly, tattoos are fucking cool! And it takes balls to get one. So I'm cooler than you and I have more balls than you. Suck it, bitch.

Today I Am Grumpy

I swear to God, today I am the definition of grumpy. If I could just walk around the office all day, punching people in the genitals, I would. Why? Because I fucking feel like it. And I don't have a fucking idea as to why. And you know what? It's ok. I don't have any reason for the way that I feel, but I don't fucking care and I never am this grumpy, so I think I have the right to just punch someone in their junk every once in a while. You know?

When I know someone is in a bad mood, I don't go near them. That's fucking stupid! You're just asking for them to bite your fucking head off right before chopping you into pieces. Really. You especially don't go near a grumpy person with stupid questions, inquiries, comments, or anything similar to anything I just mentioned. Or anything stupid. Or just fucking anything, for that matter. Honestly. You would think people would realize this. Nope. They don't. Fuck. Just leave me alone, everyone.

Now, when I get this grumpy, I try to avoid people. I know I'm being a bitch. I don't want you to fall victim to that. I don't. That's mean. So I don't talk to anyone, I don't approach them, and I mind my own fucking business. Usually people leave me alone. Except when I'm in the mood to kill everyone I see. And then they flock to me like fucking birds. Really? Do you do that on purpose? Do you wait until you can see that I'm grumpy, and choose that moment to talk to me? Is that it? Are you attracted to my bitch face? Well, fuck you.

The mood I am in right now, is the reason they have a T.V. show called 'Snapped.' You know, when women snap and kill their husbands. They get in this mood, and then their husband says, "What? You PMSing?" And she fucking snaps. And you know what? I don't blame her. It's totally justifiable if she feels anything like I do right now. Although I prefer not to kill. I'd rather go for the genital punch, myself. But that's just a personal preference.

Now, if you're done reading, go fuck yourself. Because I hate you.

Not really. I'm just grumpy.

Go Home, You're Drunk

I like to drink. Maybe I have a drinking problem, maybe I don't. No. I don't. I've never gone to work drunk so I think I'm good. Maybe.. Maybe I'm just in denial? Fuck. Anyways, the bottom line is I like to drink, especially in a social setting. Preferrably at parties. I have seen so many other people drunk, and how they act. I think it's time to blog about it.

She is white girl wasted, and
needs to go the fuck home.

First off, you have the White Girl Wasted bitches. They're screaming everything they say and taking their clothes off and crying and yelling and pretty much just being a fucking mess. Calm the fuck down. Put on your clothes. No one wants to see that (unless you're attractive as fuck, and even then, it's pretty fucking sketchy). Also, if you're in public, calm the fuck down! Or your ass is going to jail for public intox. Although I won't lie, I would laugh my ass off if I saw someone get arrested for that..

The cryers. Oh, god. You know who I'm talking about. They have two beers, and all of a sudden they have make-up running down their faces and they're sobbing about a break-up that happened two fucking years ago. And you try to help them? They freak the fuck out and hide in a closet, to cry alone. Seriously. Get out of my house you cry baby. No one wants to listen to that shit! So, if you need to cry to someone, call the ex of yours and cry to them. It's their fault you're crying in the fucking first place!

The dick. The minute this person gets slightly intoxicated, they start insulting everyone. "You're ugly as fuck." "You're fat." Blah, blah, blah... Whatever. You're a dick, and you should leave. Ok.

There are the people that are drunk as fuck, and can't stand up straight, but think they're okay to drive home. Nope. You're wrong. Give me your fucking keys. Here's a pillow. Drunk ass.

Now, the best kind of drunk people are the funny ones. They are almost white girl wasted, but still have control of themselves. They can function with their clothes on, and say fucking funny shit. This is the kind of person you want to drink with. They're funny, and like to play games and just be cool. And dance. Who doesn't fucking dance when they're drunk? If you cannot handle yourself like this when you get drunk, then you should not be drinking in public. End of story.