
I think it’s safe to say when you start thinking being murdered and dumped in a ditch wouldn’t really be so bad, there is something wrong. No?

I think it’s safe to say when you start thinking being murdered and dumped in a ditch wouldn’t really be so bad, there is something wrong. No?

Has anyone else seen the movie Insidious? Now tell me, does this little girl or does she not look like someone who belongs in the Further. She totally does right?
This is a photo of that crazy kid from Toddlers and Tiaras, Eden Wood.

Before I go to bed, I put on men’s deodorant. Is that weird? I like the smell, it’s…comforting somehow. Strange? Yeah prob. I’m still gonna do it regardless. So there.

My family is made up primarily of myself, my son, my mother and my brother. I call us a pod. My mom and I were talking about other members of the family, an uncle in particular and we were remarking on how sad it is that he has no one.
His kids are crap, his grandkids have better things to do than bother with their grandfather and his brother wishes he was the one that died instead of my dad. And he has no compunction saying so on a regular basis, to his brothers face no less. An ugly relationship that one.
It made me realize how lucky I was to be part of a pod, unlike my uncle who is nothing but a pea. A pea without a pod is a sad pea indeed.

You know what’s sad? That so many people in Hollywood hide their sexual orientation. That makes me sad, but what makes me mad is that they are pressured to do so by the whores in the leather chairs (holla to Stabilo). It’s all about perception. Which BTW I both get on one hand and despise and think is ridiculous on the other.
I mean face it, let’s take Ian Somerhalder for example. He is one sexy motherfucker and whether he is gay or straight really doesn’t matter to me one wit. I am still going to lust have him just the same, as I think millions of others would as well.
This brings me to the the whole bear scenario. I think those who feel they have to live in the closet are lucky if they can find someone they actually like to be their beard. Can you imagine how many people are in “relationships” with people they despise because their career “depends” on it? Ugh.
The perfect scenario for those Hollywood asshats is when you find two people, both gay and lesbian, prized for their sex factor on the big (or little screen), who make great friends who can, well, play it up so it seems like they are romantically involved when really they are just bosom buddies. But really, how often does that happen? Hmmm?

My handyman-man is one of those I am closest to in the cesspool in which I live. I know a lot about him and his adventurous trainwreck of a life but I learned something today that put him in a whole new light. And this is someone who is well aware the man is a theif (minus 10 points-only because he hasn’t stolen from me) and a total gossip (this is a plus 1000 points of course because I happen to love gossip).
Turns out that at one point his ex wife was pregnant. This was when they were still together. He had never wanted kids and as it turned out the baby was stillborn. You know what he said? He actually said, out loud, to other people, that he was glad. What the?!
I mean, you can’t help what you feel, and as messed up as that kind of reaction is, he feels what he feels but for the love of everything that’s both holy and not holy, don’t say it OUT LOUD. A person should never admit publicly that they are glad their baby was stillborn. That is the most fucked up thing EVER.
Dude, learn to keep your mouth shut sometimes. Holy shit.
No wonder she divorced him. I would have sewn him up in a sheet like a ravioli and beaten the crap out of him with a baseball bat if I was his wife and he said anything like that. I hope he kept it to himself at least from his poor wife. That poor woman. I can’t even imagine…ugh. So sad.

I am in the middle of watching the movie Blue Valentine with Ryan Gosling (swoon, receding hairline and all) and Michelle Williams, and I realized something about my own life.
I have felt the bad feelings they are going through, Cindy’s feeling suffocated and unable to love her partner, unable to summon the respect needed for the relationship to succeed and flourish. The difference is that my Dean never loved me as much as hers loved her.
I’ve never really been loved properly. Obsessively. Sickly. But never proper.

The saddest thing is to have no one there to hold you when you cry.
When even those around you don’t notice when your light goes out.