Moooooooo!

I blog because I'm unhappy
I blog because it's free
His eyes are on the sparrow
so he's probably not paying any attention to me.

Today's nonsense is brought to you by the letter F and the word "fuck-mook".

rock down to electric avenue

I'm going to talk about depression today. I know y'all are probably like "god damn talk about something else!" But it's my blog so I'm the boss, N'yah!

For me, my depression is like "Men In Black" expect I don't get to be a bad ass hero like Will Smith. Nope, I'm the robotic human suit with a little tiny alien dude in my head manning the controls. But my little alien isn't an awesome and kind alien prince. No my little alien is an asshole. Playing farmville on facebook, just brushed some lambs and BAM!!!! I am so fucking pissed off I can't stand myself! Stupid farmville, stupid facebook, stupid fucking cute little pixelated sheep! Screw all y'all. I'm out. 2 hours later watching "Firefly" reruns...thinking to myself "man Summer Glau is so graceful. I wish I was like her." now I'm bawling like an idiot and swearing that I'm going to starve myself till I'm thin again. 1 hour later. Trolling icanhascheezburger.com and running across cats that say "nom nom" while eating. I'm laughing so hard that I'm crying and can't catch my breath. The cute little kittens make me sooooo happy y'all! Then that little alien bastard is all "oh teh noes! No happy for jooo!" BAM! Here come the mother fucking water works again.

But but but...what about the medications y'all? Don't they fix it all and make you happy happy all the time? No it doesn't. It's like having an ugly ass couch in your house. You want that manky piece of shit out of your house but instead you just throw a blanket over it. Depression medication is like a blanket thrown over an ugly couch. It's still there you just don't see it right away and people looking in only see the blanket. Fucking blankets and couches and stupid aliens. Fuck all them.

Haters gonna hate......and I reserve the right to stab them in the eye

I will admit. Nearly all my adult life I was a skinny bitch. I was super model thin with a 21 inch waist. I was pretty hot. Well now at 32 I've been diagnosed as bipolar and take handfuls of medication every day to keep me from climbing the curtains. As a result of said medications, I have gained a lot of weight. Like 35 lbs a lot. Add to this the fact that I've been suffering through some pretty horrific menstrual issues, which have lead to me getting a hysterectomy next month, and what you have is a much heavier me.

This has led to some unpleasantness for me. A friend recently expressed concern that since I'm taking pain medication and have become a fat ass that there must be something wrong with me (read drug addict). Then just yesterday, I went to the Dr with the Hubby and the effing nurse asked me if I was pregnant!!! Jesus fucking christ on a pogo stick! Sometimes skinny bitches get fat okay?!!! Sometimes underlying medical issues will make a skinny bitch fat and sometimes said medical issues can cause the, now fat bitch, pain. So like I said, haters gonna hate and I reserve the right to do bodily damage upon them. I leave you with the struttin' red panda. Cause he don't care bout no haters.

Ufo conspiracy!!! .....or not....but maybe

True conversation with the hubby a few nights ago via text

Me: Me and the kids just saw a ufo!
Hubby: Hush plz don't tell anyone.
Me: Lmao!Seriously we saw 3 stars moving around all crazy!
Hubby: Ok. Ur not to tell any one. This is where it ends.
Me: Ummm. ok

Now at this point I'm convinced that I saw a ufo and the hubby is in on some huge government conspiracy that the Sheriff's Deputies are privy to. Cause you know they see weird shit all the time. So I'm glued to the front window watching the sky and prepared to defend me, the kids and the dog with lethal force just in case there were any probe happy aliens out there waiting to violate us all.

As it turns out the Hubby was not part of a conspiracy. (or so he says)That he just didn't want me advertising to the world that I'm a complete lunatic. And then of course google informed me that I was looking at the International Space Station, not an alien mothership. I am still skeptical.

The Armadillo bitches!

If you play Mafia Wars, you may know me as The Armadillo. Or if you email me you probably know me as Zenarmadillo. I am one in the same. You see Armadillo is my alter-ego. Let me tell you, The Armadillo is one bad mutha-shut-yo-mouth. Armadillo is zen as a motherf**ker! Full of wisdom and limitless serenity. That's where I like to retreat when the world fucks with me or when my bipolar makes me think the world is out to get me. The Armadillo is very versatile as well. It can be a straight up stone cold KILLA! The best part is that no one suspects it. Amirite? Who would expect a lowly Armadillo of world domination plans? No one that's who.

The Armadillo is completely unfazed by anything...I mean anything!! Snotty check out girls at walmart? Pimp slap them hos and keep right on struttin'. Crazy people calling 911 and screaming? Check yo'self. I got this shit under control. Zombie Apocalypse? No problem. The Armadillo has a fool proof zombie contingency plan that involves automatic weapons,4x4 vehicles, high ground,vicodin and tequila. I'm sure you see my point now. The Armadillo rocks balls. It's good to be me.....or The Armadillo.