I think Mel Gibson wants to insult me

I'm Catholic; born, baptized and first communion and reconciliation. I used to love going to church when I was younger. Religion is a funny thing as a child; the higher power which ever it may be, seems so large and unwavering. It isn't until we are older that we begin to question the hypocrisy that is organized religion.

But since the age of twelve I haven't regularly attended church, but I have my own faith that doesn't require me to sit in a stuffy church with brown stained glass windows. I believe that everyone should come to their own conclusions about religion.


My parents were married in the same small church that i attended for years. I thought that i would get married in that church, had dreamed of it for years, in fact. But then, years ago Cantante got married there. And they treated her so poorly. She was wasn't allowed to have mass because sher lived with her fiance, the maid of honor was yelled at minutes before walking down the aisle for having exposed shoulders.

the road to hell

Basically, all my ideas of being married in the church were dashed. I was not about to deal with the
sanctimony involved. Mr., not being Catholic was fine with the idea. I would have had to strong arm him into it anyways.

I also like to joke about religion in a borderline blasphamous way. One of my all time favorite movies is Dogma. Not only because it has such a great cast but because it deals with religion is a way that proves how miscontrued religion can be. PLus it has Jay and Silent Bob in it. My favorite part?

Cardinal Glick: Mass attendance is at an all-time low in this country. But if we can let 'em know the Catholic church has a little panache, we can win 'em back – even get some new ones...Fill them pews, people! That's the key. Grab the little ones as well. Hook 'em while they're young.



Rufus: Kind of like the tobacco industry?


Cardinal Glick: Christ, if only we had their numbers.

George Carlin is a genius.

So that makes me a Cafeteria Catholic, (see definition three) . Which is fine by me.

Way to creep everyone out there….

I am obsessed with true crimes. Especially ones that involve serial killers. I love serial killers—not in a killer groupies, marriage in a prison chapel way. (He hasn't returned my letter.) No I'm simply fascinated about the psychosis behind a killers mind. What drives them to kill and how a person can look so normal and be burying young boys under his house ala John Wayne Gacy. In the Pacific Northwest we have a lot of serial killers; Robert Lee Yates, Gary Ridgeway. Kenneth Bianchi was convicted of the murder of two girl in Bellingham. My sister, Toby Tyler actually lived in Ted Bundy's house in the U-district of Seattle. I devour books about true crimes. I have read almost every book Ann Rule has ever written and obsessively watch shows like American Justice and City Confidential. A few years ago Mr.'s parents got me Time Life's collection of True crime stories. I religiously watch CSI, (Except Miami—I want to go Gracie Lou Freebush on his ass.)

Mr. always jokes with his friends that if he goes missing they should question me first and I'm all Hello! One, the spouse is always the first to be interrogated and two, I would totally get away with it.

Okay, so I've officially hit an all time creepiness factor here. I think it's time for me to shut up.

I wish I had more gay friends

It seems to me that there is a world out there of gay men that I haven't quite infiltrated. The idea of being a fag hag has a glamorous vibe to it. I don’t know why, I think I just want it because I’m on the outside looking in. Let’s face it, try as I might I will never be a gay man. But I love anything that has to do with gay men. And I love, Love, love Margaret Cho….She is responsible for the line I use more often than any other to reference about a break up.




“I love you…but I’m not in Love with you….and you pee blood so later!”

I hope the aliens never come to get me.

Last night I was sitting in my disco tub with the Mr., drinking wine and looking up at the stars. Very romantic, I know. Now, a few days ago Mr. swears that he saw an UFO. Of course me being a fuck-tard, had to start asking him about Aliens. As in Extraterrestrials...as in martians…as in little green men as in…okay, I have no more names for them. I am undecided as to my thoughts on whether or not there are in fact aliens. On one hand it seems like the universe is very expansive and there would be some sort of higher being out there. On the other hand, I’m human, selfish, narcissistic and a bit of a douche bundle. Ergo; I am the highest being any where. Plus I’m American which means that there is no one more fantastic than me…Just ask me.

Although my theories on Aliens are not entirely formed. I have a huge fear of them. If in fact they are real, I have no doubt that they would kidnap me and torture me with things like the Macarena and anal beads bought at your local Castles…(Hey, they’d be investigating our lives, could you blame them?...Not that either one is my life…Fuck…)

Jousting set not included

The Mr. tried to explain why I should be afraid of the visitors from space because the chances of them being sadistic are low. Because friendly aliens are every where.



So, I am terrified by aliens. Ghosts not so much. The basic theories behind ghosts are that they at some point were human, like me. So on some level I’m sure I could related to them, although of course there would be that one asshole ghost who is like that guy at your Halloween party who dresses up as a cowboy, grabs his balls frequently and tries to explain the perks of fucking “a dandy donkey.”

She is really funny too!

But for the most part the ghosts would be fairly nice. With the obvious exception of the psychopathic ghosts. About 0.1 % of the Earths population is psychopaths. We're talking worse than your run of the mill Sebastian Valmount; no were talking Jame Gumb, starving women to wear their skins.

I reason that if the earthly realm has that many, that the ghost world would too. So I will take my chances, that I may some day run into a sociopathic ghost hell bent on killing me. Because that seems better than ET.

Get the fuck away from me!

Some witty title about country music

Is it just me or does the cute member of Rascall Flatts have mad gay face? I don't think he could be gay, because I'm pretty sure he married a super model or a stripper or something like that*. I don't remember…

Jo Don Rooney, I wish I could say I made that name up.

There was a point that I loved country music. My friends and I used to cruise around listening to Kenny Chesney at top volume. I dreamed of Tim McGraw and had a major girl crush on Faith Hill. I even went to see Rascall Flatts at the Tacoma Dome in 2005. Their song "I'm moving on" was a huge motivator in deciding to move down to Arizona with my husband. I enjoy partaking in the simpler things. Every summer we go out on the lake, drink Coors Light and burn to a crispy fuchsia.

This picture was taken after two bottles of gas station champagne and a smushed ham sandwich.

But around the time of the Dixie Chicks Top of the World controversy, I stopped liking it. I blame Toby Keith. He totally turned country music off to me. Now when I listen to country all I can think of is that man making comments about the Dixie Chicks (Who transcend country music) accusing them of being unpatriotic and even traitors for speaking their minds? I had thought that music could bring people together but apparently in some circles, country music is a good ol' boys game. It makes me sad.


[*just found out his wife was a playmate…and they named their son Jagger]

Funny Video

So I love Jimmy Fallon. "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart-Ichabod Crane called he wants his hair style back..." But mostly because he started a campaign to have the cast of Saved by the Bell reunite. I used to love that show and had the biggest crush on Zach Morris. Plus Jimmy played beer pong with Rose from Golden Girls.

The original Gangster

 

So, just imagine my delight when I saw that Rob made an appearance on the short "Robert is Bothered" It's always nice when a star is able to poke fun at themselves. Also I think in this video, Jimmy makes a better Rob than Rob does. I love you sweetie but you need to play it cool if you want any chance with me. All I'm saying!

Samoas are yummy

So, it's my birthday. I've found that once you reach a certain age; i.e. anything above 21, birthdays aren't too exciting. You still have to work; you don't get to buy an excessive amount of scratch tickets and cans of Copenhagen for your father. You don't get to wear a velvet dress anymore. (Side note—I totally had one too. And I was a hottie in it, but I digress.) You don't get a piñata or tickets to visit your neglectful mother in Florida. You don't get attacked by a hot guy with a bad toupee. You can't try to seduce your cold skinned boyfriend who is protecting his "virtue" whatever the fuck that is…You don't get dream catchers from muscled boys who speak basic Spanish. Oh wait. That wouldn't happen to me at all...

Do I need to knock a bitch out to wear velvet again?

Instead, I have to work, which is fine I suppose. I have gotten some pretty sweeet presents including a wilted daffodil and dollar store lotion. Ah, the perks of teaching two year olds...At least I get to gorge myself on Girl Scout cookies.

See even Rob likes them. He wants me to have a happy birthday...

So to be as narcissistic as I am. Happy Birthday to Me!

Chapter Eight Teaser

Just a little teaser for my story Runaway. I posted chapter seven on Twilighted and fanfiction.

Thoughts? Rants? Does the ice cream make sense now?

huh?

The next chapter is going to shed some light on why Bella's so messed up.

Fanfiction

Happy Birthday to my parents.

A few odd years ago, my parents were born. On the same day, in the same year. Mere hours apart and an entire state away. On their 29th birthday my Mom went into labor with me; giving me a birthday the day after theirs. My parent were always the cool parents, the fun parents. All my friends wanted my aprents for their own. Jealous, bitches.

My Father likes to be called "Your Awesomeness" and my mother is the spitting image of Rachel Greene from Friends. Yeah, she's that good looking. It is impossible not to love my parents.

 They totally rock and I wish I could give them a tribute that they truly deserve but instead I want to show the best picture of them ever taken. The photographic proof that my parents can party down.

Yes, this is my parents. No you cannot borrow them.

Happy Birthday Your Awesomeness and Beans.

I love you!

Northwest Profile-angry at Twilight

As a girl who has resided in the Pacific Northwest for 24 of my 25 years. I am a Western Washingtonian through and through. I can pronounce Sequim and Puyallup. I have never used an umbrella and can identify at least five different names for rain. Full list here Now, up here we have these hilarious commercials from Pemco. Northwest Profiles. They feature things inside jokes such as "Sandals with socks guy" (My Dad) and "Ski's in Rain Guy" all people I know quite well. Now because as a people we are quite pretentious. I give you my list of why Twilight pisses me off. I admit I am rambling and a huge whiner. But this is my blog and I'm going to do what I damn well please.


1. There is no bridge like the one in the opening credits near Forks. The bridge featured is the Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River, between Washington and Oregon. The story behind this bridge is fasinating.

2. In the movie, Charlie makes a comment about Kitsap County sheriff. Now, as a local of the fine county I was glad for the publicity, having the last mention be in Walking Tall. (Which is not a favorable movie.) Now geographically there is a large county between Clallam and Kitsap. Jefferson County. I am very fond of this place, as it housed many a party where we all drank beer from a keg attached to a four wheeler. Ah, the good old days.

3. Forks is hyped to look very exciting. It is in fact a very nice small town which until Twilight came out was touted as the "Logging capital of the World." In the NW, loggers are our version of Cowboys. He don't have hicks, we have loggers. So in fact it more like this-



 And lastly. And I stress this is the most important point. YOU CANNOT DRIVE TO CANADA! No, you have to take a ferry from Port Angeles to Victoria. If you wanted to drive or run to Canada you would have to cross over three counties until you are in Seattle. Don't believe me? Take a look at a map.