Good Bye 2014, Hello 2015

Let me start this end of year post with this...

2014 was a shit ton better than 2013.  It still had some shitty moments but I got back to myself again.  I reconnected with Kitty!  <- Duh, I'm Kitty!!!

So with that said...here is 2014 interpreted with song, video, and rants....it's not a whole lot.  First the year sucked and now it doesn't.


The year started with the world's worst job ending...thank you sweet baby Jesus for that shit...at the time it seemed shitty but now close to a year later I cannot say how amazing it was to get the fuck outta that shit hole.

 

Then my birthday came around and it was night I cannot burn out of my eyes...oh the stories...

 
 
 Then there was stalker who showed up at my house...

 

And now the year has come to an end and I am a happy bitchacho! Who woulda thought a year later I'd be so happy!

 

 I will end this post with this song below and a bit of advice...and maybe another song...

 

If you're living a life that is miserably unhappy...fix that shit. Aint no job, no man, no woman...nothin' worth that shit...fuck that shit. Change is scary as fuck but ya know what..it's also awesome! So get go out and get your happy...money cannot buy that shit. I sign off with my fave song of this year!

 *~*Smoochie*~*

Kitty

 

Kitty's Sarcasm 5000 Contest

It's Friday, it's a dance-y day!  I'm sure you all have seen the posts about our upcoming contest, right?

Just in case you do not have the details for The Kitty's Sarcasm 5000 fans contest...here it is below.

CONTEST!
Lately, I've noticed a huge increase in homemade dance videos going viral.  It made me think.  I mean it really made me want to dance.  Then I thought about all of the KS fans, and I all of a sudden felt an obligation to make sure that they are dancing too!  It's important we all get a lil dance-y every once in a while.  For me...it's daily thing.  What ever floats your boat, right?

This contest challenges all of the Kitty's Sarcasm Facebook. Twitter, and Blog fans to submit a video of themselves dancing. There are no rules other than:

• You need to share the video with Kitty and be okay with it being posted.
• You must have your private tid bits covered (no naked or commando vids).
• If the video doesn't give the full picture without description, please send in that info with the video.

Once we reach 5000 fans, Kitty will post a video entry/submission cut off date.  At this point you're all getting a head start on the contest!  So get to it!  Get dance-y and get recording!

Kitty has promised to submit her own video once the first 5 vids are submitted.  Maybe it was 3? Shit!  Who ever is in charge of the rules, will make what ever needs to happen...happen!

So start your camera phones up, your video recorders, your what evers...get your videos into Kitty's Sarcasm!!

MY OWN DAMN MANUAL - CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Three in the weekly chapter installments of, My Own Damn Manual is to address the part of life where things just don’t seem alright.  There have been times in my life where I have let worry and fear consume me.  I read or heard somewhere that fear is an irrational feeling.  That being scared or fearful of the future is an act of insanity.  It mentioned something like, “How can you be scared or fearful when you have no idea if the outcome is going to be bad?”.  The pessimist in me says, I sure as fuck can be scared about the unknown.  It’s the unknown that’s the most scary, duh!  Am I right?

Something that I have learned over time (thirty plus some years) is that it’s okay to be fearful or scared.  It’s okay to feel irrational from time to time.  It’s what you do with it. 

This chapter is short.  It’s not funny.  It’s real.  Like the smallest portion of meat and potatoes you’ve ever had that filled you up for an entire week.  You catch what I sayin’ here, right?

Fear is okay.  The point of it all is to not let it debilitate you and hold you back.  Would you let a significant other hold you back?  I don’t think so!  So fuck fear.  You can allow it to dinner, like that crappy relative or friend that comes over on the holidays, eats you out of house and home and then complains the entire time.  You put up with it and then you swiftly drive their broke ass home when the holiday is over and get on with your life.

There you have it.  Suck it up, feel it, move past it, and go for it!  Whatever, 'IT' may be for you!

The Cost of 25% Off

In my house we're Batman lovers. The Kitten is obsessed with all things Batman. So when she asked me at the store last night to buy her a Batman costume (the second time she's been there and seen it this past week or so), I told her sure but that we were on a budget this month and she would have to give up something else she wanted this weekend. So....long story short I convinced her to wait to get it. It's mid-September for crying out loud. Costume and Halloween is budgeted for October! I know it's only two weeks away but I am working on teaching her something here. Something I wish I had better teaching with now lmao.

My point of this all is this hot mess:

(I've had insomnia for a little over two days now. I'm am currently a walking freak show surviving on pure adrenaline and a few minutes short of six hours of sleep total in this time. That's a lil tid-bit to envision while reading the remainder of this post!)

I was in bed last night and around midnight started thinking about the Batman costume that we saw at the drug store twice now. After a committee meeting with voices in my noggin, I realized (rationalized - same same) that it was crazy that I didn't just buy that costume. It was only $14.99 & 25% off (I won’t go into the scam of an advertised percentage off of a Halloween costume in mid- September...but whatever - I call b.s.!), with or without the price off, it was a steal for a costume and it's all she needed. She had the rest of what she would need at home already. I mean I really was kickin' my own ass over this. Because when have I ever gotten away with spending under $15 for a costume for her?!?!?

This morning I ran my errands and went to the drug store to drop of an rx and buy that damn Batman costume. While waiting in line at the pharmacy counter I planned out how I would surprise her with it by just hanging it in her closet to see the next time she opened it.

Here's where it all went horribly wrong. The pharmacist had questions for me and then tried to talk me into a flu shot...I was all kinds of distracted with his questions.  When I was done with the pharmacy my phone rang.  Needless to say I went on auto pilot and left the store with the Batman costume completely vanishing from existence in my mind.  I realized this after I had been home for an hour or so already and planned to go back to the drug store before I picked up The Kitten from school today.  It was only like 2 hours until that needed to happen so it would be okay!  J

Thirty minutes before it was time to get The Kitten from school I headed to the store to purchase the costume.  Big fucking shocker, they sold out in the hour and a half while I was at home.  I went to the first person in uniform I could find and asked when they would be getting more costumes.  He looked a lot like, Shaggy from Scoobie Doo and had a similar persona about him.  He stared blankly at me and told me he couldn’t listen to words that fast.  I was apparently talking to fast for him.  I immediately walked away from him and his stare to save his life.  I had recognized earlier in the day that I had no fuse what so ever and that if someone tripped on their own shoelace I might kick their ass because, “Fuck you, and your shoelace!”.  I found out they wont be getting any more costumes in for the season and blah blah blah.  I asked about whether other locations might have it and if they have a policy where they could put one on hold somewhere for me close.  Some cashier who looked like Mike Tyson and Peewee Herman’s love child rolled her eyes at me and then said, “Well, I guess you could call around and see”.  (I want to pause here and ask you a question.  What would you have going through your mind after this princess told you that, YOU could call and check?).  Horrible customer service, the cashier should have at least offered to give me the phone numbers or call for me. 

So I drove to the mom’s and pop’s parking lot at The Kitten’s school and arrived a little early and started ‘googling’ that shit on my own and waited for her to get out.  Fuck them for not helping me when I clearly dropped the ball on the costume today.  It’s because of them that this shit is fucked…yah..that’s it!!  I was able to locate one out of 6 total stores close by (close by meaning with in 20 miles) was all.  They put it on hold and I felt vindicated and excited to get this fucking costume.  At this point in the game, the costume is now a do or die mission that I have taken upon myself to take as serious as pigmy warfare. 

I plug that address into my gps because even thought it’s like 7 miles away, I wasn’t born with an internal compass.  The Kitten and I drive away from school and I head in the general area of drug store.  (What could go wrong now, right?!?) My navigation/gps in my phone decided to take a total shit and not work.  We got lost for 25 minutes.  When I say lost, I mean…not like “oh shit I shoulda left a bread crumb trail” lost, but lost like…driving in circles looking.  I was using voice text to try and correct the issues while sitting at a stop light.  Imagine that shit and how it went.  It would recognize what I was saying perfectly and then tell me it was thinking.  This went on for like 15-20 minutes.

I eventually found that frickin store on the other side of town.  Turns out today was another day that proved my lacking of an internal compass.  It also turns out this costume we were getting at 25% off was in the ghetto.  A real shifty part of town I normally want no part in, but I was committed to the cause and in too deep to turn back.

Are you thinking this is the longest fuckin’ story ever?  Well, to get to the final point.  We got the costume, we are home now, and the first thing The Kitten says to me is, “Mama, I think this is too small…”

I am going to fill my kitchen sink up with my entire liquor cabinet and dunk my entire head in now.

Kitty Over & Out

MY OWN DAMN MANUAL - CHAPTER TWO

Today’s chapter tackles relationships.  Are you ready for something that might freak you out?  For something that might enlighten you further on the inner workings of positive relationships?

If you so, you’re reading the wrong Damn Manual!

I’ve been married a handful of times.  I’ve had my share of dates, relationships, etc.  There is no manual for relationships.  

You hear stories about those grandparents who’ve been together for 100 years and raised 16 kids in a “Leave it to Beaver”  fashion-y kinda world.  The kids grew up all functional and shit.  They married their high school and college sweethearts, had 2-5 kids a piece and get together for every holiday and birthday.  They’re a real family where they love one another and no one is an alcoholic, no one is suffering from mental illness, and no has any issues with their children.

Um…yah.  I call bullshit.  A real fuckin’ bullshit story that is!  There is no time in history where such family exists.  With that said, if this is a farce, how in the fuck do we learn how to have functional relationships? 

We learn from our fuckin’ dysfunctional lives.  The dysfunction sometimes is manageable and doesn’t scar us too much.  Most of us however…most of us have scars a mile deep.

In my case, for some reason I cannot seem to commit long term to anyone other than my kid and my parents.  The rest of the world can just fuck right off.  I’ve never been great at friendships, dating, marriage, etc.  I’ve never been great at sugar coating shit.  I’ve found that when I have sugar coated myself, those are the times in my life where I have had more “relationships”.  You know, friends, dating, marriage, etc. 

Those times where I have had that, sugar kinda life, it wasn’t real.  It wasn’t deep.  I realized this in a big way recently and decided to let that shit go.  To be okay with my life no matter the amount of people or types of relations I have in my life.

I threw all that shit in the fuckin’ dumpster for good.  I have turned the sugar on and off throughout my life and it’s just a waste of who I am.  Write that shit in your, Own Damn Manual. 

There it is folks!  Don’t sugar coat or dilute yourself through life, even on and off for moments of time.  Be yourself.  If the world can’t handle that shit, then that’s part of the world you do not need to expend energy on.

Form Letter to the Haters cc: #Merica

Dear Fuck Face(s) of #Merica,

Please understand that this is form email being sent to you in response to your email inquiry this morning regarding Kitty’s posts (see below for the post).  Kitty is out dancing today.  She’s quite dance-y and really has no time for formalities or ignorance today.   

While Kitty's Sarcasm is set up for entertainment, from time to time there are posts that are not in a humor nature or in a form of a joke.  This morning’s post about September 11^th was not a joke, it was not in humor.  It was in a true honoring fashion and was about Kitty wanting to remind everyone to dance and to not let a horrific thing hold them back from happiness.  Remembering is important; it’s a given.  Moving on and not letting a cruel world stop you from celebrating this amazing country we live in - is just as important if you ask Kitty. 

With that said, today several emails came in complaining about the post.  Emails of threats to Kitty for being” ‘UnAmerican’ for making light of something that happened 10 years ago” (news flash, you cannot math what so ever!), calling Kitty a Communist, saying if they saw her in public they would hit her with their minivan, calling Kitty and Kitty’s Sarcasm the devil, and so on.  Your email falls into one or more of these email categories. 

It’s 2014 and life is okay for Kitty.  She wants you to know that while she practices her freedom of dance, it’s perfectly fine for you to express your rights to freedom of speech, however she would like you to know that you should expect to find the Karma Police at your door one day and the visit wont be dance-y.  This isn't Footloose.  We live in a country where we can dance and send asshole emails. However, if you think threatening Kitty with a mini-van is going to make an impact on the world or Kitty, you're mistaken.  Maybe one day she'll tell you about the time a real prick of fuck face tried to run her over in a much large size cargo van.  He didn't succeed and she didn't even rip her pantyhose. 

This email is getting off track here.  The point of this email is to let you know that we received your message and would like to invite you to go dance in traffic.

Kindly Go Fuck Yourself & Then Dance It Off,

Kitty’s Sarcasm Admin Team

POSTED 09/11/2014 at 4:30 AM on WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/KITTYSSARCASM:

“Today is September 11th. There will be lots of remembrance posts, people talking about the profound moment they saw on the news what happened to THE USA on this date and how it changed them forever. 

Instead of all of that, I am posting right now to acknowledging the victims and saying at the same time, let's just dance it out. Let's celebrate the good of today. The actual day we are in. Enjoy it and not let what happened stop us from dancing today. Keep dancing. 

For the haters who will say, you cannot dance what happened away...

I'm not about all of that b.s., I'm just sayin' I'm gonna dance instead of sitting in sadness. I'm gonna show acknowledgment through happiness and dancing. If you do not get the deeper point, go ahead and go sit and be miserable on your own. As for me, I'm dancing because I live in a place where I can!

*~Kitty~*”

MY OWN DAMN MANUAL - CHAPTER ONE

HAVE YOU EVER REALLY SAT AND WONDERED TO YOURSELF, “WHAT IN THE FUCK…I MEAN REALLY…WHAT IN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING”?

I DO THIS ON A SOME WHAT CONSISTENT BASIS.  IS THERE A MANUAL TO THIS SHIT?  A REAL PLACE TO GET THE 411 ON HOW TO GET THINGS RIGHT? 

I KNOW, I KNOW…BE GOOD, DO GOOD, ETC ETC…BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST?  

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'VE DONE THAT…AND CONTINUE TO DO THAT AND YOU’RE STILL SITTING WONDERING TO YOURSELF, “WHAT IN THE FUCK…”?

HERE IS MY ATTEMPT TO BE A BEACON OF HOPE OR SOME SHIT FOR MY READERS. 

YOUR KIDS DRIVING YOU UP THE FRICKIN’ WALL?  

YOU’RE SINGLE AND DATING IS WORSE THAN YOUR ANNUAL MAMMOGRAM? 

YOU’RE DOWN AND OUT AND NO WHERE NEAR BEVERLY HILLS? 

I AM ON A MISSION TO ANSWER ALL THESE THAT MAKE US ASK,”WHAT IN THE FUCK…”. 

I KEEP SAYING, “THERE IS NO MANUAL”.  WELL, FUCK THAT!  I’M GONNA START WRITING ONE.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE TO START – EXCEPT FROM RIGHT HERE.

CHAPTER ONE:

YOU HAVE TO WRITE YOUR OWN FUCKING MANUAL.  YOU CAN EITHER HATE IT OR LOVE IT.  YOU CAN FIGHT IT OR HAVE FUN WITH IT.  FOR NOW, HERE IS THE BEGINNING OF MY OWN DAMN MANUAL.

THE RULES AND CONSTRAINTS PUT ON YOU (OR SINCE THIS IS MY MANUAL I SHOULD START USING, ‘me’!!) ARE USUALLY THERE BECAUSE WE PUT THEM ON OURSELVES.  TIME TO STOP HOLDING MYSELF BACK…YOU SHOULD THINK ABOUT DOING THE SAME.

THERE IS MORE TO COME ON ALL OF THIS…JUST THOUGHT I SHOULD START WITH THE FIRST PART ASAP!  

I'm doing it wrong?

DEAR KITTY'S SARCASM,

YOU'VE GOTTEN THE HATE MAIL, YOU'VE GOTTEN THE FANS, YOU'VE GOTTEN THE KUDOS, YOU'VE GOTTEN THE REST.  BUT TELL ME, DEAR.  HAVE YOU GOTTEN RIGHT WITH WHO YOU'VE BECOME.  FROM HERE IT LOOKS RATHER BLEAK FOR YOU.  TAKE A LOOK IN THE MIRROR, HONNEY.  YOU'RE HEADED TO A DARK PLACE WHERE YOUR BITCHES AND MANOLPES CAN'T SAVE YOU OR HELP YOU.  YOU'RE PROBABLY TAKING THEM WITH YOU ANYHOW.  THINK ABOUT MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN YOUR OWN LIFE AND THEN IN OTHERS LIFES.  YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG AS THE MEMES SAY.  

TERRI

Dear Terry,

There is a whole lot of CAPS LOCK to address in your email.  I hope you do not mind that I save this for next week's Advice Wednesday post.  I think it will really help me, help you...get your point across.  If there is a valid point in there somewhere.  I need to maybe read this email from you 10 more times to fully digest it. Problem with doing so is that I think my eyes are already bleeding.  Wait!  Wait one minutes here!  Is the whole idea of your CAPS LOCK email to tell me on top of what you wrote that you're yelling it?  Oh, if that is the case your email just became 100 times more enjoyable to read aloud.  I will ask my Manalopes and Bitchachos (that's actually how you spell it) to read this out loud to them selves when they read this but make sure they really yell it!  They will enjoy the hell out of it, I just have a feeling about that!!!

As for the content of your email...I just don't give a flying fuck about it....except the yelling out loud part while reading it and the random photos that I will add to this blog post that come to mind from it.

Thanks for loud LAUGH!

KITTY (I am yelling this!!)

P.S. The dark place you talk about...it's lovely here!  Oh and by the way....your email is about as relevant to the world as planking is currently.  

You Got Dumped & It's Your Own Damn Fault

In a little word play confusion this weekend, The Kitten confused the title of the Movie, How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days with, How To Lose Ten Guys In One Day.  It made me think.  

I mean really think.  I pondered the shit out of that newly given movie title for at least 30 seconds.  It then came to me, like a vision of splendor and bad bar lighting.  

Why not blog about this?  


I mean the art of losing ten guys in one day seems way more legit of an idea to explore than losing just one with a whole ten days to do it!  

Are you with me?  

In my search for all of the greatest ideas and stories of how everyone of my Bitchachos was dumped for something that was blatantly their own damn fault....here we go!  I will be asking my Bitchachos over the next ten days to help me with this blog coming soon!  Send in your stories to me!  I will leave your anonymous or use your name, it's all up to you!  I want to come up with a top ten list!!  So get on this!  

And since I just thought more about this...I want to include the Manalopes!  You do the same!  Give me your best, you got dumped and it's your own damn fault story.

Here we go!  I will even share mine.  And trust me, I have at least 4 of my stories to share!! 

Let the story telling begin!!  We have ten days!!

Some More Advice From Kitty 05 14 2014

Dear Kitty’s Sarcasm,

I am a single woman living close to Indianapolis.  I am truthfully a size 16 and 5’6” tall.  I am always told I have a pretty face (which is nice, but you know what that means, right?).  I was in a relationship for 4 years that ended 2 years ago.  After 2 years of being single, I have experienced online dating, being set up by friends, meeting people in bars, at events, you name it.   The same thing comes from all of these men I have been on a date or 2 with.  “I want to be friends, I just do not see anything else.” Or “I am looking for someone more athletic.” Or “Are you interested in losing weight?  I can help you.  We could be work out buddies.”

I am not extremely obese, but I am considered obese.  I have had some medical issues in the past that caused a weight gain.  I have lost two dress sizes in the past year.  I am not interested in becoming a gym rat, and honestly do not enjoy working out.  I enjoy hiking and outdoor activities to exercise. 

I guess my question to you is, where are the men out there who love a woman for who she is and accept her “ flaws”?  I dress what I think is cute and trendy, keep myself together, and have my shit together with a real group of friends and a great career as a teen substance abuse councilor and advocate.  I just am not sure where to meet someone anymore.

This isn’t your expertise I know, but I thought after reading your blog and posts here you might have some real help or at least something to make me laugh with.

Kelly

Dear Kelly,

First of all, I think I am an expert in some of what you're talking about.  I am not a skinny-mini.  I am single.  I am also a, "pretty face" at times.  Where I am no frickin' help at all, is where to find this man.  I am glad you haven't settled for someone who wants to change you.

Good job on losing the two dress sizes, but obviously it goes to show that regardless of what you lose, you have to be happy.  I wonder if you're truly happy with yourself and have a positive self image?  When you feel good about yourself, people are drawn to that.  

My advice for you is this, make sure you're happy with you and every part of you.  Once you're there and happy, do not sit around and dwell or wait on a man to come your way.  It will happen.  Or honestly, it wont.  But either way, you'll be happy with you.

I suppose this isn't any help at all.  It's not sarcastic or funny, I apologize for being so serious.  I truly believe this topic is no joke.  I suggest googling Tess Munster.  There are so many beautiful plus size or as I would like it to be called, AWESOME SIZE, roll models out there.  Or have you heard of, The Militant Baker?Another blog or page to check out is, Curves and a Camera. she posts a lot of body positive things and has a super fun sense of humor.  She is actually a friend of mine and a fellow, Bitchacho.  I am willing to bet if you reach out to either of those ladies you will get some great answers as well.  These ladies may or may not be your speed or have things in common with you.  I just mention them because they are three of the most secure and positive people I have come across on line as far as body imaging and love yourself comes.

Best of Luck and Wishes of You Loving You!

Kitty

*~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~*

Dear Kitty,

I read your blog yesterday about the oatmeal.  Get real, bitch.  No one wants to hear about your day.  Stop kidding yourself.  The world would be a better place if "Mom Bloggers" would stop trying to be famous and start doing somthing.

Tian

Dear Tian,

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog.  Your first sentence contradicts your third sentence.  By saying you read the blog and then saying no one wants to hear about it, you are talking out of both sides of your pie hole.  You had to have read my quick run down above the link to the blog to have been curious enough to click on the link.  It did tell you it was about my day.  If no one means, 249 people visited that post in the past 24 hours, then I have to say... I sure love all the "NO ONES".  As for your Mommy Blogger statement, I am not a "Mom Blogger".  I am Kitty of Kitty's Sarcasm, who happens to be a mom with a blog as well.  I also have a twitter feed and another fan page called, Kitty's Kitchen Shenanigans.  I am to the point now in this response to wanting to throw myself from my unicorn and crawl to my kitchen for some vodka martinis.  I mean seriously.  Get over yourself.  I am not famous, I do not plan to be and I am doing a whole lot of shit.  I posted a pic below for you to see what I am doing now.  

Go Fart So You Feel Better,

Kitty

*~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~*

Dear Kitty,

Your the most funniest person on the intrnet.  I live in SW Washington.  I am close to you I think.  Maybe we could make plans to meet.  I will buy you all the vokda gimlets you like.  I will even pay for a hotel.

Delvin

Dear Delvin,

Sounds like you have had too many vodka gimlets already.  You might want to go back to school, it's probably been a few decades for you but you should really think about graduating the 6th grade at least, get some manners and for your own protection I have blocked you.  I am not a prostitute.  I am a Bitchacho who will go psycho on your ass if you talk to another woman like this again.

Kitty

Oatmeal

This morning we had the typical wake up after snooze was hit three times, the cat came in yelling at me to open the curtains so she could properly stalk the ducks, geese, blue jays, and squirrels.  I rolled out of bed once I couldn't take it anymore, did the zombie walk to the living room to open the curtains, realized I couldn't breathe well, wondered how in the fuck could I be getting a cold on a week of 80 degree weather in Seattle (We just do not get a lot of these  warm and glorious days throughout the year! 

It isn’t fair.  



I contemplated stomping my feet and screaming, 
maybe throwing myself back in bed and sleeping more…and then I realized, “It’s probably just allergies and I am probably just being an asshole.  Good thing it’s just me and the cat that is awake.”)!!  



I went about my morning routine, peed, fed the cat, washed my face and made breakfast for The Kitten.  This morning, my routine changed a little as I woke up feeling like a lil piggy needing to eat everything in my kitchen but nothing sounded good.  I made myself some breakfast as well.  I usually wait until after I am up, showered and dressed for the day to eat for myself (I have to get myself ready for the day and presentable because The Kitten might lose her shit on me if I look embarrassing dropping her off for the day).  

I sat down to eat with The Kitten and all of a sudden, my first bite fell all over my shirt (I did get dressed while food was cooking, that was a brilliant idea!!).  If it had been a piece of scrambled egg, it would have been no big deal.  But it wasn't, it was ooey-gooey oatmeal….

My point of this whole ramble you may wonder?

I am PMS’ing, cramping, hangry, wearing  oatmeal  on my shirt, and I cant fuckin’ breathe!  

So…have a fuckin’ great day, Pumpkin!! 

I am going to work on not being an asshole today.  That’s all I can take on today.  It’s gonna be rough, but for fuck’s sake…I am in no mood to be toyed with by flying oatmeal and snot in my head!!

Kitty's Tantrum of Pandemonium

With the new advertising set up on Facebook, it is making it almost impossible for my current group of 3700 or so fans to see my posts on a regular basis.  It's a crying shame.  Not in the fact that I am crying in sadness, but more tears of a complete temper tantrum of sorts.  This PAGE on Facebook of mine and the blog here that you're reading mean a lot to me.  Call me crazy, call me silly, hell...call me drunk - but these two things helped your dear ole Kitty get through a ton of life changes.  From moving, getting divorced, raising a preteen that is too smart for her own good, changing jobs, and then changing again.  I was in a horrible place, a great place, a real shitty place, and here I am on the road to a great place again...  I am sure you can see why the temper tantrum state I am in is not only required but it is with just cause.

In my state of tantrum pandemonium I have come up with a few ways for Facebook's Zuckerborg to change things up and still make a ton of money.

1.)  Require the pages to allow certain adds in their page's wall posts.  Seems like a pain for all, but in the end...fuck it.  Some will buy some wont, and pages can keep their posts in their fan's timelines.

2.) A nice jello wrestling event in each major city.  Facebook can sell tickets and rake in the the loot.

3.) This one is a, 'DUH' & a 'NO FREAKING BRAINER' - Hello!! Start your own VODKA line!  It's a multi-million if not billion dollar idea!  You'll get what you wanted in advertising from the page owners...I would probably pay for several pages.  You're welcome for the idea!

4.) Just stop being such greedy assholes.  I will be taking my posting to my BLOG or own website if this keeps up.  Between all my pages I am sure I am a very small drop in the bucket, but with 14,000 followers total or so.

Rant over.

That's all.

KITTY NOT QUITE OVER IT & OUT!

BAM

Holy Fuck Balls.  You know what?  I mean do you actually know what, what is?  Have you met what?



Anyways, a full circle moment hit me today.  I mean start to finish, holy fuck balls moment.  That moment when you realize that the triumphs, the mistakes, the questions, the answers...



They all got wrapped up in a bow with sparkles and expensive paper and….BAM!  Thank you sweet baby Jesus!



It’s all how it’s supposed to be.

My point?  What am I saying?




Everything happens for a reason.  Every moment.  Every choice.  As long as you follow your heart, gut, brain, and live as good person truly…shit happens for you in ways that blow your mind…might not be in your time…but shit happens for you.



It’s my time. Full circle. Guess what... #BAM



That's all.

If Only I Could Sing....

Being Kitty is a tough job.  There are many facets to it.  Is it facet or faucet?  I am talking about the kind with water rushing out....so keep up!  Each one has something different.  One is professional as fuck, one is motherly and wise like, one is friendly and ticking like a time bomb, one says drink me like in the movie with Alice what's her name, and so on....

Are you with me?  Got the mental note?

Lately, I have been focused on the motherly and wise facet.  It's been great!
I mean really great.  I have put all my energy into it.

Suzy F. Homemaker, minus the clean house and shit.

Even cookin' in a crock pot!

I quit smoking, I started eating healthier, I have been super involved.

All the things normal people do who don't work 24/7.  It's been great!

The Kitten has been happy.  I have been well again.  It's been pretty great for moral and shit.

The Kitten even (with a lil help from her almost Broadway, mum....okay...it wasn't almost...it was Battleground, Washington and I had one line...okay...there weren't lines...I stood there and acted as if I was a tree...okay, not a tree!  Alright! Alright!  I was a fuckin' rock!  I was the best fuckin' rock seen in the PNW!!) auditioned for a play this month and we are awaiting to hear back on the results.  It's been nice having time for my princess!

The cat even has been getting spoiled rotten!  It's becoming a real problem with her meowing at me all the time.  I am pretty sure today she threatened to slit my throat if I didn't feed her right that very second.  I feel a bit under siege here.

With all the cooking, loving, teaching and time I have been giving it leads me to the part in the story where I tell you about last night.

It's been getting down into the teens for temperature here lately at night.  As my Manalopes and Bitchachos know from the beginning, it's just The Kitten, myself, and now a cat named, Elvira.  Three lady minxes runnin' this city here in Washington.  We rule, whether in our minds or in life.  The Kitten loves WWE, we watch it weekly and partake in most events we can.  It's her thing and now it's become our thing, we have become obsessed.  It's something we share.  It's all I have to fuckin' talk about these days.  I talk about that, The Kitten, and the damn cat.

 Anywhooo...back to my story...

Last night it was so cold out.  We live in an old place with lots of windows to over look a lake (it's lovely) but with not enough insulation.  It's also a daylight basement set up, so when we sleep we are in the dirt!! Got that picture yet?

The Kitten asked if she could sleep in my room last night.  So it ends up being The Kitten, the cat, and myself in my bed.  I luckily have a queen size bed, but you add a skinny, leggy pre-teen and fat cat who triples in size when she sprawls out and it leaves about a fifth of the bed for me. 
No big deal, I get to bed and fall asleep. 
 That's when it happened!

All of a sudden, I am screaming!  Yelling is more like it. "What the Fuck!"!!  I was so stunned and out of it!  I had no idea what had just happened.  I focused my eyes (without my glasses) in the dark the best I could and THERE IT WAS... The Kitten was sitting up with her eyes closed.  Her elbow was out like she was doing the chicken dance or something...it was strange!!  She had elbow dropped me at 2:47am in my sleep.  I finally woke her and told her to get to her own side of the bed.  By 5am I had a raging face ache that woke me up and by 10am this nice lil blue eye thing!  

Why do they call it a, BLACK EYE?  I wonder?

Now that not only the cat is threatening me, The Kitten is jumpin' from the top rope while I sleep and messing my face up!  What has gone wrong?  Too much Betty Crocker shit on my part?

From here on out it's war!  Bringin' out my 

Kitty Ninja jammies at night and taking 

back my house!  

I am the Kitty!  Hear me roar!  

I cannot help but wonder if this is all because I need to clean my house!

I need some little vermin to come in and clean my house!  Is it not happening because I cannot sing????

The Beast Called Karma

I am on a mission.  I suppose this is warning shot - fired up into the rainbows and sky.... BANG BANG!

Lately, now that I have had some extra time to pay attention to my surroundings and the people in my life - - - I am finding that I sure have missed out on some amazing things this past year and most likely some not so amazing things.  I also am seeing that a few people have turned into assholes.  Or quite possibly, maybe they were assholes all this past year and I just was too busy to notice???  
My eyes have definitely been opened to the impostors of the past months.  It’s comforting to know that even with craziness of the past months, I am still me!

Still a Bitchacho! 

Still passionate as fuck! 

Still capable of really everything & anything. 

It’s refreshing.  

It’s amusing. 

It’s FanFreakinTastical. 

In response to the assholes and impostors of the past months and in a nice lil nudge to those that I have thought to be assholes all along….here is a nice lil drawing for you.  It’s simple so you can understand it and yet complex enough that you will walk away unsure of why you are thanking me.

(shout out to Jeanette for this lovely pic)

If you're an asshole, you're an asshole.  Hopefully you come by it honestly.  If you're an impostor, you're a liar.  I haven't known many if any liars who are or were honest about being a liar.  I suppose this is where the area gets grey and mucky.  I prefer rainbows and unicorns...I suppose sometimes you have to dance with the devil to find the greater good isn't a good analogy here but I do know this.  I danced with the devil.  I had no idea at the time but now that I do...things have changed.   I have walked away slightly scathed, yet okay.  I have been enlightened.   

As for the devil and his disciples....you didn't get to know the half of me.  For that reason...your house will fall like tiny dominoes.  Ever so slowly to start (you may not even notice at first) and then rapidly picking up pace at the end.... BAM!  They all fall down.

Back to the mission...

All this realization leads me to the front lines of it all.  I am coming straight outta the hell I was put in to bring it all down.  BAM!  Slow like Honey. Fast like the Tortuous.  



Wait, what the hell is all this?  What does it really mean?  Fuck!  Pour some vodka and we'll talk story a bit.  I am happy to fill you in.  Like a spider web...it spreads.