Should Have Never Started Feeding the Goddamn Elves

Another post title that has nothing to do with anything, but is in actuality a line from a favorite movie of mine. If you know that line, you're fucking awesome. Well done.


**Please, take a minute to appreciate the changes that I painstakingly made to my header via the uber-techy program known as Paint. I know, I killed it!

So yeah.... this is THE post. Ya know, the post-apocalyptica one after I dropped the D bomb the other day. If you're reading this, then you're aware that my recent absence has been directly linked to my going through a divorce. Well, can't keep a good dog down (Is that how that saying goes? IDK) And you can't keep a soon to be divorcee from blogging. Take THAT Family court!

Believe it or not, I do have SOME moral standards, so all things divorce related will be omitted. I know, that sucks because let me tell you... I have some doozies. But it is what it is. Also, all of this has taught me one very important message... Should have NEVER told any of my friends or family that I was blogging. I have so much shit to talk! I mean really. I'm considering putting out an anonymous book. Like in that anti-racism movie 'The Help' and just let all the bitches of this town stew on it and speculate who is whom. I'll get back to you on that.

I also wish to take a moment to thank Jesus for spell check. I just tried unsuccessfully to type out anonymous four fucking times and it still was all underlined in red because I can't fucking spell!

Back on topic... yes, I'm in the process of getting divorced. Yes, it sucks. Know what sucks more? MOVING! Ya... that just happened. I totally just skimmed over all the "My marriage failed" woes are me ... in lue of some serious bitching.

So, I got this new apartment. It's pretty bad ass. Well, in the sense that I dont have to mow the fucking grass and my girl Jamie (See Midget Dance Off) lives a few doors down. The down side? It's in a new town, meaning that my kids are switching schools. Okay, not new... more my neck of the woods. The town I had lived in, I married into. No thanks on seeing THAT every damn day the rest of my life. The kids are pretty geeked, but nervous as you could imagine. The other downside is that it's only a three bedroom. This problem is easily rectifiable by finishing the basement, therefore turning it into one major badass mancave/bedroom for the oldest spawn. The problem with that is that I, apparently have some dumb as fuck superwoman complex. This causes me to think that I can do all kinds of shit that I actually cannot. Like oh.. say, seal and paint a fucking basement. Epic. Fail.

Also on my list of shit I thought I could do but can't

- hanging curtains without putting many, many holes in the fucking wall.

- hanging mirrors with 'mirror tape' and expecting them to NOT fall the fuck down, in the middle of the fucking night, during my first fucking night in said apartment.

- lift and/or carry ANYTHING

- put together a goddamn thing without blood oozing from at least one orifice

Like I said, it is what it is. I'm currently all moved in, and getting to know my new place intimately. Know who else is getting to know it intimately? My ten year old kid. Who, by the way I walked in on during 'special time' today. In MY room. Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!

I cannot go any further with that, as the vomiting is just really bad for my laptop. Really.

So ya, in other news... ever want to know who your TRUE friends are? Move! A u-haul full of shit will weed them out quick as fuck! I thought I had it all planned out. My (ex)husband and his father loaded up an entire fucking house full of shit into the u-haul. All I had to do was come up with the man power to unload/assemble it. Oh, and drive the fucking thing. (I paid the extra $27 for the insurance because that shit's HUGE) All that sounds simple right? WRONG!

Let me explain.. first, I had many, many friends of the muscle variety offer to be a nice guy and help me move. While I appreciated that, I said no because divorce or no, having guys moving my couch would have just been an asshole thing to do in front of the ex. *I told you I had some morals* So I instead relied on mostly family, girl friends and their boys, and a few close guys. It was all fine and well until the u-haul was literally full of shit and everyone fucking bailed! Well, mostly everyone. I sent Jamie a message something akin to...

 "Oh my fucking god, Im going to slit my fucking wrists. Everybody fucking canceled on me"

To which she replied something like... "Fuck that. We'll do it our damn selves... just let me put on a bra"

Jamie, if you're reading this, I owe you my next born child. Or, I'll take yours. Whichever you feel is the fair way to play this. And, thanks for blowing your boyfriend, so he'd help. Seriously, please tell Mitch I said thanks, and I hope it was good for him!

I'll fast forward, and with a little extra tiger strength on my side, for which I'll be forever grateful, it all got done.

This is getting lengthy, and I'm getting tired. I'm going to part two, or three this one. Please tune in next week. (I actually have no fucking idea when I'll post the next part... it might be tomorrow for all I know)

**Still to come...

-My kids are assholes

-Install the fucking cable already

-The nice neighbor who doesnt shut the fuck up

-My kids are still assholes, where is the fucking cable man?