I don't even know...

This link was posted on the Reader's Rant page by my super awesome best friend.  She knows I don't get in to politics and all that jazz.  Just a little disclaimer before I begin...I don't give a shit what you believe in or who you vote for or any of that other junk.  I am just really glad she posted this link because the birth control issue has me interested.    

Let's start with the average co-pay for birth control being $14.  Must be nice to have insurance.  I was uninsured for over 3 years before today.  I was finally eligible to enroll in the medical insurance that my job offers.  While uninsured, my birth control was damn near $90.  Hopefully that will go down now that I have insurance.  Sandy Rios needs to holla at me and let me know what generic birth control is only $9!!! 

The next thing that caught my ear was...comparing abuse counseling with manicures and pedicures.  Really?!  Yeah.  She said that.  Do I need to even say anymore about it?  F*ck you, lady.  

Putting your daughter on birth control doesn't mean you are giving her permission to go out and slut it up.  Maybe she suffers from ovarian cysts.  Maybe she has painful periods.  I've been told by every doctor I have ever had that birth control regulates that awful shit.  

"You present science and facts just to present your viewpoint."  Uhm....well, I think we all learned that in elementary school while doing science projects.  That's what you do when you are trying to get your point across.  You present FACTS to back your shit up.  

And another thing....whoever has birth control laying around collecting dust, send that shit my way! 

~Kelly

fat scooter

As most of you know, Wal-Mart (as well as other stores) offers electric wheelchairs to those who need them during their shopping experience.  If you needed a wheelchair to shop in the store, wouldn’t you have ridden up to the store already on that bitch?! 

 * this sunamabitch right here! *

You can’t fool me, wally world!  I think we all know that those electric scooters are for the fat shoppers.  You’ve seen them… the ones who are too gigantic to even get halfway around that big ass store without assistance.  The ones when sitting on the scooter, it looks like they’re wearing a thong.  If you can get a biggun to be comfortable in a huge store full of food... well, I don’t think I really need to finish that sentence.

 

Acceptable reasons to hoverround:

If you are walking with crutches, ok. 

If you are super huge about to pop pregnant with triplets or more, ok. 

If you lost a leg during shark week, ok. 

If immediately beforehand, in the parking lot, your foot got run over, ok. 

UNacceptable reasons to ride:

If you are just plain fat, not ok.

If you are suffering from lazy ass syndrome, not ok.

If you just stubbed your toe or a got a papercut or some other lame excuse, not ok.

Being fat is the perfect reason TO walk around while you’re shopping.  That’s probably the most exercise you’ll get all month long.  Air conditioning, drinks & snacks galore!  There is even a section with pillows if you really get winded.  So get up and walk, fat ass!  If you are really THAT fat that you need to ride the scooter and that is the only way you can shop… Why don’t you spend some of your food money on a personal shopper who will go get you healthy food?  

Not to mention, those riding scooters are awful.  They take up a ton of room in the aisle, they go super slow, nobody is proficient at driving them, and reverse?!  Don’t even get me started on reverse!  That horrendous beeping noise!!!  OMG!  What’s even worse, maybe the worst part about the fat scooters?!!!!!!  When these people stand up at the checkout and that thing beeps and beeps and beeps and #@(^ !?$ beeps!  Are you deaf?  Why don’t these people (that are standing right next to these carts) ever know it’s actually them beeping?  Really?

I have personally walked around and shopped at a gigantic Wal-Mart during each of these occasions:  full term pregnant (twice), in labor (once), after a c-section (twice), on crutches (twice), with jacked up vision (thrice) and fat every time I go in.  I know it’s possible to walk.  Even when you can’t walk!  I refuse to ride in that stupid shit.

If you really don’t need to use this monstrosity, if you are just so lazy or fat that you prefer to be carried all over the place, think again before you sit your ass down.  Do it for your own good, if no one else’s!  Use your #@(^ !?$  feet and walk like humans were intended to do!

~Katie

* Why does this dude's pic come up every time I google image search electric wheelchair or scooter?  Go ahead, try it.  Creepy... *

a whole new level of fear

Grotesque. 

My brother and I decided to go check out some wildlife today.  That’s right.  Wildlife.  Big mistake, since we were almost eaten alive by spiders. Don’t get me wrong, wildlife is cool and all.  I just don’t want to be all up in it.  I don’t do bugs, I don’t do heat and sweat, and I definitely don’t do spiders.  This is why I do not camp.  Well, that and the lingering fear of a Jason Voorhees like character killing everyone.  

There’s this place in town called the Enchanted Forest Nature Sanctuary.  It has trails that you can walk through and see all kinds of animals and bugs and things of that nature.  Spiders EVERYWHERE.  Why two people that are deathly afraid of spiders would go to a place like this, I have no idea.    

Turns out, this place is taken over by Golden Silk Spiders (aka banana spiders). The handsome little guy pictured above was on the window of the shop before you even get to the trails.   BEFORE. THE. TRAILS.  

Once you start walking the trails, these jerks are everywhere.  Look to your right, there’s spiders.  To your left, spiders.  Look up above your head, spiders!!!  It looks like they are floating.  What if spiders actually floated?!  

Several times during this fabulous little nature walk, I was attacked by branches, leaves, sticks ‘n shit.  Every single time, I thought it was a spider and I thought that was it.  That’s how I was going to leave this world.  I was going to be attacked by a banana spider, have a stroke, and....well, you know.  Then I would freak out and run off only to be reminded not to run too fast so I didn’t run face first into a spider.  There is no need for that.  

Every once in a while, I would hear a noise behind us.  I was certain there was some abnormally huge spider coming to get us which lead me to think about something.  What if there were zombies in this nature sanctuary?  THAT in turn lead me to think about several other things.  You have to run from the zombies, right?  Duh.  Well, once you start that running shit, you run the risk of running FACE FIRST into a big ass spider.   Then, what if the zombies start biting the spiders?  Then you have huge zombie spiders chasing after you.  F*ck that.  

Here.  Check out the cute little tortoise we saw today.  Maybe it will help you forget about all that spider nastiness.  Just kidding.  It totally won't.  

Oh.  Just so you know, the whole time I typed this I felt like I had spiders crawling all over me.  I will dream about spiders tonight.  You’re welcome.  

~Kelly

get off the phone

Cell phone etiquette.  Shit.  Where to begin....?

I will start with a confession.  I am borderline obsessed with my phone.  I am constantly texting, kickin’ some ass on Words With Friends (or getting my ass kicked. shut up.), Facebooking...whatever.  I’m not ashamed.  The reason I use the word ‘borderline’ is because, unlike other cell phone addicts, I am aware that there IS a time and a place.  I absolutely re-f*cking-fuse to have a personal conversation on my cell phone while I am in a restaurant, store, nail salon...wherever.  I don’t want everybody else knowing my business.  If I did, I would take out an ad in the damn paper.  I don’t give a shit what you are doing this weekend.  I don’t want to hear, in detail, about the awful date you went on last night.  If you need to make a quick call to find out if so and so needs something from the store, fine.  If you want to call the babysitter to see how the kids are, cool.  Try to keep that phone call short and sweet.  And keep your voice the f*ck down.  Shit.  There’s nothing more annoying than hearing a loud ass person on the phone.  Ok, there are things more annoying than that but, that is up there on the list.  Also.  If you’re going through a check-out line, ordering food, or doing something that requires talking to someone face to face, please detach that phone from your ear.  Remember, there’s probably other people waiting in line behind you.  You going between the cashier and the conversation you are having about how much of a bitch your sister can be is just making everyone else wait and in turn, pissing them the hell off.  Remember, cashiers are people, too.  Get off your phone, let them do their job, and get your ass out of the line. 

Let’s discuss that bluetooth shit real quick.  You look like a douche.  It appears that you are talking to yourself.  I don’t get it.  On the other hand, I have noticed that only middle aged white men appear to be using bluetooth technology these days, sooo...I think that means that shit is no longer ‘cool’.  Whew.  

You know how you can catch on fire if you pump gas while you are on your cell phone?  I wish that happened every time someone used their cell phone at inappropriate times for stupid shit. 

~Kelly

satan's nectar

Energy drinks are quite possibly one of the WORST things to be invented ever.  I will never forget the day I drank my first (and last) Red Bull.  I started to feel all jittery and just wanted to do a bunch of shit and talk to everyone and not shut up ever!  That lasted for about 20 minutes.  After that, I crashed and felt miserable and wanted to shoot myself in the face.  Uhm...F*ck that.  That has to be the worst feeling in the world.  I really want to compare that feeling to the way a crackhead feels when they are all...cracky ‘n shit....but, I’ve never done crack sooo I wouldn’t know.  

Listen.  This is what I’m getting at.  No, I do not think energy drinks should have an age limit.  I think those sons of whores should be outlawed.  However, there are those people that are energy drink fanatics.  They can’t function without them.  Those idiots would probably force us into some repeat of the prohibition era.  Except instead of alcohol, it’s energy drinks.  Can you imagine?!  People would be sneaking into their favorite speakeasy to get their energy drink fix, buying bootleg Red Bull and Monster and shit.  F*cking crazies.  

Ok.  Let’s not go so far as to outlaw that shit.  I do not think children should be drinking that crackhead ass shit.  If an adult wants to be all jittery and feel like they want to shoot themselves in the face, then they can do that shit on their own.  


~Kelly

sleepy time

Well, I was supposed to write about sleep deprivation this morning before work but, I was busy napping due to the shitty sleep I got last night.  Oh, and by “napping”, I mean laying in the recliner, watching Tabatha’s Salon Takeover and dozing off here and there.   Anyone that knows me knows I suffer from random bouts of insomnia.  Insomnia is a son of a bitch and f*ck you if you have not experienced it.  Don’t you dare come at me with that ‘I stay up late all the time’ shit, either.  You probably end up sleeping all day long.  Newsflash!  Staying up until 3am and then sleeping until 1pm is NOT insomnia.  Talk to me when you attempt go to sleep at 11pm, don’t fall asleep until 5am or so and wake up at 8am like CLOCKWORK.  Oh yeah, and in between 5am and 8am, you wake up at least 6 or 7 times. 

My insomnia is so bad, I can’t even nap correctly.  Who the hell fails at napping?  I f*cking do.  I will doze off for about 10 minutes.  After that, I start snoring so loud, I wake myself up.  Yeah.  I snore.  Laugh it up, everyone.  It adds character.  What has helped me through these horrific insomniac phases is.....(drum roll please) Valerian Root!  Or, V-root as I like to call it.  That shit is magical.  Take it around 8 or 9 and I’m asleep by 11. 

And you dildos that claim to only need 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night.  Shut the hell up.  You probably have some closet speed addiction that helps you get through the day.  When I sleep for anything less than 7 hours, I feel like I cannot function.  I actually hallucinate.  Shit.  I hope those were hallucinations.  They probably were....right?  

~Kelly

Robots

I had this returning client in my chair today and I said the sometimes open ended question… “How are you?”

Her response to me (in a raspy, 85 year old smoker’s voice from Queens) was:

“Well, honey… you’re never gonna believe this.  I am in a lot of pain and moving really slow because I’m still recovering from a complete hysterectomy.  And what’s even more unfrigginbelievable is that a friggin robot did my surgery through my damn bellybutton.”  I will save you from the details she proceeded to tell me all about.  I will, in fact, be researching how to erase those said details from my memory (‘Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind’ style).

Are you kidding me?  Ok, its one thing that they are doing a shit ton of surgeries now through your (what used to be) tiny ass bellybutton, that’s great.  But you’re telling me that they are sticking a robot arm inside of your bellybutton and digging your organs out with it by use of a friggin joystick in the adjoining room??!!!! 

Do we all live in the matrix?

~Katie