So I see this woman walking her dog today. It’s a very McNeighborhood kind of suburban development, with the walking trails and the tennis courts and crap. (I don’t live there, I live a few blocks toward the East Side.)

Anyway. So she’s wearing this fucking sombrero. And I see her, and I think, dude, a fucking sombrero? Then, like the freak I am, I make a few stealth maneuvers in the minivan, and snap this with my phone.

I emailed  it to ping.fm, because that is the easiest way to get a picture from the phone to plurk at the moment. It went to twitter and got no response (expected), and to plurk, where it got one response (unexpected). But, that ping to plurk method does require people to click on a link, and they don’t want to, or are mobile, or whatever, and I get that. That’s ok.

But. I worked too hard for that, man. I made a seventeen point turn in the van and managed to keep the kids from yelling about the lady in the sombrero long enough to open the window and snap the picture. I want my attention, dammit. So I plurked it again, thinking that the auto-thumbnail/super awesome media sharing features would help. Also, I threatened them, which never hurts. It worked.

Then some douche comes along and says it is racist. What the fuck. Hey, it isn’t about the national origin of the hat, it is about the hat being worn on the trails along the joggers and assorted stepfords.

See? Equally as funny, if badly executed photo editing.

It’s about seeing something unexpected and being reminded that life isn’t boring, if you pay attention.  So suck on that, overly sensitive, politically correct assholes.

Tags: attentionwhore, sombrero, suburbs, plurk, twitter, bleh

I have issues.

I know, talk about stating the obvious. It’s what I do, I look around, see what I see and then blurt it out as though no one else can see it.

Amongst the many issues is this one: I can’t stand to be alone. Now add this one: I hate people. Man am I fucked.

It is this juxtaposition of issues that drove me to look for social interaction on the Internet in the first place. This goes back to the early 90’s. I discovered usenet. What a great idea, I thought. People from all over can ‘gather’ to discuss common interests. The first post I made (probably in some Pink Floyd.alt.alt.dumb kind of thread) was flamed by some stupid know-it-all, stoner loser. I guess my post didn’t measure up to his expectations.

The same pattern followed for Bulletin Boards, Chat Rooms, and just about everything on Internet. Even the porn was disappointing.

I always think the Internet will be the perfect answer to this the need people/hate people thing. You’d think that on the web, without the constraints of class, economy and geography, that you’d be able to find a group of people that ‘fit in’ with.

As a rule, I’ve failed miserable in that regard.

Every time I think that I’ve found something that will allow me to interact with other people, it turns out that those people are as narrow minded, boring and general stupid (or more so) than the people I have to deal with in the real world.

And any of you that want to tell me that I could make it work if I wanted to are simply missing the point. Of course I could behave like a complete moron and fit in with the rest of them, but that’s not what I’m looking for at all.

So I sit here and work on my Shitty Blog Sites and make believe that if I control the rules that it will give me what I want. But we all know better.

So despite my social networking, my email contacts, IM contacts, twitter friends and blog buddies when I am feeling alone and want some one to talk… there’s nobody there.

Damn I love the Internet.

Be Proud. Be Shitty!

I know I can’t be the only one out here with posts written that will never see the light of day.
Or posts that only get to live for a few minutes until they are disappeared.
This feels like one of those…or the other, maybe.

I value my friends - that includes my internet friends as well, of whom I have considerably more than the “real life” kind.
Many of you - MOST of you - I enjoy and I really like. A goodly number of you I love deeply and honestly, so much so that I would truly feel a void should you disappear from my life.
Seriously.

But lately I have been suffering from some bizarre (and vicious) anger and resentment.

And thus endeth the ‘making nice-nice’ portion of the post.

There is a tiny poison dart lodged in my heart, working its way in like a shard of glass, causing me to feel unhappy and aggravated and just plain ol’ MEAN.

Probably the internets are not the place for me to be when I feel this way - we all have our troubles, our angsty days (weeks, months), our complaints, our rants and bitingly pointed remarks.
Normally this isn’t a problem for me…I offer all those same things here and I’m always amazed at the level of support. I’m never arrogant enough to believe that I’m THE ONLY PERSON EVER IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD who has had a particular feeling or thought. I’m not emo enough to think “NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME! How could you POSSIBLY know what I’m going through???”
I KNOW you relate to me. I KNOW I so often relate to you. We understand, we sympathize and we empathize.

But my tiny poison dart has…well, poisoned me…in thought and word.
I’m so tired of the everlovin’ complaining and bitching and all the people who are SO WILLING AND EAGER to take offense at the tiniest (and often out-of-context!) remark…I’m tired of the whiners and badgerers and the people who try to make everyone else feel small or uneducated or ignorant simply because they think about things in a different way.
I’m sick of the “EVERYONE IS ENTITLED TO THEIR OWN OPINION…except you’re wrong. And stupid. And sort of ugly” passive-aggressive games.

See? Internets are not for me, not in this mood.
Don’t get me wrong - I’m aware that I’M bitching. I’m complaining. I’ve lost my sympathy and my empathy and my “give a shit”.
I “own” that.
And you know what else? I’m sick of THAT too. What the hell does that even mean…”I own it”??
If it’s part of your mind-set, your character, your flaws and issues…guess what? You ALREADY owned it. It belongs to you.
What you’re doing - and believe me, I think it’s quite admirable of you - is acknowledging the problem, recognizing it for what it is and how it affects you. You’re not “owning” it. It’s not like it’s something you can sell - and PS who the hell would want to buy that anyway? You know you’d throw it away if you could.
OWN THIS, bitch.
YEAH.

I acknowledge my hypocrisy. I recognize my resentment. I admit my inability to quell the bubbling ick that rises inside me every time some poor blogger stubs his or her toe and people fall all over themselves fawning about it. I confess that I roll my eyes and get unreasonably agitated when I read a blog post that sounds familiar …and I realize that the person re-works the same basic post at least once a month but never gets past the typing to actually DO something about all the problems they’ve “owned”.
I concede that I have not been at all likeable lately, especially on Twitter where all my random and nasty thoughts find a home - several times a day.

I profess that I hate reading posts and tweets about how you’ve got it so fucking bad because you can only afford ONE week of vacation in the south of France this year or you have to spend the weekend getting massaged and spa-ed to recover from your laborious week of…living. I get irritated when I read how upset you are because you broke that manicured nail rushing to get to your “tweet up” or night out with the girls/boys and your babysitter was FIFTEEN WHOLE MINUTES LATE and your kid had a fever but you felt you needed to go out anyway for some “me” time.
MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME.

All that stuff you complain about? Not a SINGLE THING WRONG WITH IT.
It’s me. I wish I had some explanation as to WHY it’s so bothersome for me just now.
Time to step away from the ‘net, THAT much I’ve got figured out.
I know it’s not fair to let MY issue be crawling all over YOUR issues like that.
NOT.FAIR. I get it. I…”own” it. heh.

Actually I think it’s not the bitching so much as it is what people bitch about, time and time again.
Second verse same as the first. And third. And twelve. And seven hundred and forty-fifth.
Yes, that’s seriously judgmental and none of my business, really.
I’m aware of that.

I get pissed when people do NOTHING BUT complain about their miserable lives…and again, they SHOULD complain if they need to (like ME, just now, O! THE IRONY!).
But sometimes I just don’t get people… I don’t get them at all. It seems they’re overwhelmed at everything, by everything, and can’t function unless they have sympathy and lots of people slavering over them all the time.
Then, it seems, they manage to function just fine & dandy.

That’s when I start thinking all The Evil stuff. Like the pain I live with daily but I don’t talk about because it is what it is and if I think about it all the time and TALK about it all the time, it hurts a lot more. Like my back that always aches like a rotten tooth and how I re-injure it frequently because my 13-year-old 75lb “infant” son has to be lifted in & out of the bathtub and the wheelchair and the car and he has to be carried and moved and so on and so forth.
Like how I feel like a complete moron for talking about the minutiae of my daily life which DOES get quite overwhelming…because when I post about it the first thing I think is “OH SHIT, now everyone is going to feel sorry for me and pity me and IT ISN’T ABOUT THAT AT ALL”.

Stop reading now. Really. I mean it. Go do something productive, like read a book or play some WoW or King.com or neopets.
SERIOUSLY.

Because I really don’t want advice on “things I can do to make it better”.
No offense.
It’s just that I’ve heard it, and you know what? I’d love to take all those wonderful suggestions. I’d LOVE to. But there isn’t time or money or…time. Or availability. Or the desire to do a few of those pampering things that girls so love to do.
Well, other girls. Except me.
To me, sometimes those things are just like work. I don’t WANT to lock myself in the bathroom for two hours every Saturday to give myself an at home beauty treatment. I couldn’t care one whit less about that.
I don’t like shopping. Even if I COULD afford it, which I can’t. I don’t have the inclination to sit in a chair for two hours getting a manicure & pedicure. Doesn’t interest me.

See, I’m perfectly okay with that. I’m really glad that doing that sort of thing makes you happy and relaxed. I’m really glad that you can indulge yourself with those things that lift you up.

It’s just not for me.
Now you’re thinking, “Well hell, if you just want to sit around and wallow and not TRY to do anything about it, screw you & you deserve whatever you get. Or don’t get. Whatever. FINE.”

Don’t lie; I saw the eyeroll. I TOLD you to stop reading, didn’t I?

Lookit, my life is hard. My son’s extreme and multiple handicaps make it difficult for me to get out. Or GO out….like on a date. Or with the girls. Or whatever
Also my low tolerance for people comes into play - so don’t think I’m blaming my kids.

I do not blame or resent my kids - or ANYONE else - for a single thing I “don’t get” to do. Or any of the tough things that I “have” to do every day.

I am Mother, and it’s my job. I don’t take it lightly or for granted.
In fact, I don’t think about it much at all - we do what’s got to be done and we do it with love in our hearts.

Sure, I’d like to be able to just hop in the car and go to the park.
Or call a convenient babysitter to come on over so I can take in a movie or dinner with a friend.
I can’t. So I don’t fret over it.

My son is too heavy to just toss in the car & go. As for babysitters who are qualified (or willing, even) to take care of him?
About zero, at least around here.
My mom takes care of them during the week while I’m at work & doesn’t like to watch them on weekends.

I’m okay with that, too. I don’t usually miss the not doing things.
Until I read some post about “how I had to miss a night of drunken revelry and a possible gang-bang -woo!- because my hair was flat and I just couldn’t make it”.

If you think you’re hearing some envy…well, I wouldn’t say you’re wrong. Sometimes I AM envious of certain people-albeit briefly.
Because there are some for whom things just always work out perfectly… and quite often (not always, but frequently) those people are the most giant assholes on the planet.
I’m not saying that assholes deserve to have bad things happen, I’m just saying that it often seems as though they’re the ones getting the GOOD stuff. Over and over again.

It’s not a pissing contest - I’m not trying to prove my balls are bigger than YOUR balls (although they are) and that my problems are more important or worse than yours (again, they are)…I’m just saying that I have PLENTY of shit to complain and bitch and moan and groan about, but I try to keep it to a minimum. Some people make a living off it. Some people just live to DO the whining. I choose not to focus on it all the fucking time. If I can suck it up and deal, then YOU should be able to do the same.

I’m not going to apologize for how I feel; after all, I “OWN” my feelings, right? They’re an inimical part of me but we have to share the living space and try to get along.

And maybe to you, this whole big long-ass thing that keeps going ON and ON and ON reads like a giant pity-party or a trip to Bitter-ville…
You might think that I’m unhappy with my life or suffer all-consuming regrets or that I am malcontent.
If that’s the case, you really DON’T get me.

Did I mention I lost my “give a shit”?

but thanks for asking. Did I at least get anally probed? Wouldn’t you like to know.

I have no excuse for neglecting this site. NO excuse except for the fact that I hate this club. I so fucking hate it.

And yet, I keep come back for more. I’m a glutten for punishment.

So let’s see what’s going on.

I owe you a winner of Shitty Blog of the Month for April.
You need to nominate someone for SBotM May.
And we need to make Shitty Blog Survivor happen.

Look for updates on all of those things soon.

Yes I did say Survivor… I know, I know… I’ve made these assertions before. But this time I really mean it.

I need the drama. Trust me… you have no idea what kind of shit I went through last year. Bu at least there was nudity. Which, believe me, did not surprise anyone more than me. But don’t worry, we’ve got a restraining order on Chad this year.

That was an inside joke. If you didn’t get it… then you must not be on the inside.

Wannabe on the inside? All you have to do is come join us in the Talk Shit Forums. (Well, and Suck Up a bit, but that goes with out saying. Or, at least it did until I just now said it.)
You what we need? A slogan. “Be Proud. Be Shitty!” is more of a catch phrase, don’t you think?

“ShittyBlogsClub: An online community for assholes who hate online communities”
“The Shitty Blogs Club: We are too lazy to promote ourselves!”
Or my personal favorite:
“Shitty Blogs Club dot Com: Please don’t delete our blog… again!”

What do you think?

Oh fuck you too… like you could have done better.

Be Proud. Be Shitty!

Hi.

Welcome to Shitty Blogs Club dot Com.

Please update your links.

I know that this template is the default.

I know that all of my post are “gone.”

And I know that some one got Blogsome to delete my blog. I’m sure there was a violation of the terms of agreement.

But I think we all know what really happened.

I’ll fix it up and restore some of the old posts later.

This is my best effort for my lunch break.

Oh. And if you thought it was that easy to get rid of us.

You could not be more wrong.

I have a sense of humor.

I can laugh at myself and I can laugh at irony.

A group of sites popping up on the internet with names like Shitty Network and Shitty Blogger. That’s ironic. *Edit* Go ahead and click, it won’t work. They’ve blocked links from this site. Who the fuck doesn’t want traffic? They stole our name. If it was a happy coincidence, don’t you think they would have said “Oh look at that, they are shitty too!”

So I poked fun. We left a few comments. Nothing rude, nothing derisive. Just a bit of fun. They deleted them.

Okay…

I left a few more, with humor.

“Was it something we said,” I asked?
“Shitty Blog Radio will never be beaten down,” I responded to an article called Internet radio is about to be beaten down

Deleted.

I went to leave another comment, but it’s not going to happen.

Action Denied: Blacklisted Item Found
http://shittyblogsclub.blogsome.com/

Action Denied: Blacklisted Item Found
http://shittyblogradio.com/

Do they have us confused with spammers? I don’t think so. Maybe they read the last post and didn’t find it funny. So I checked the Stats. No click-thru’s came from those pages to here.

I began to wonder… Maybe they didn’t click because they already knew who we are.

I looked at the group of authors of this “Shitty Network” and they seemed familiar. Could they be part of that damned Diva-Blog Explosion clique?

I think maybe they are. And if that is true, then they know exactly who we are. Trust me. We go way back.

All of a sudden this doesn’t seem like irony. Maybe they stole our thunder. I can picture them saying to themselves, “If those assholes can get traffic just by calling themselves shitty, why not us.

Coincidence or not, I’m pissed. Blacklist me bitches.

I left a new comment. I’m sure it will be deleted before you get a chance to look at it. So I took a picture.

*Picture Deleted Use your Imagination.*
I hate these people. You should too. Because they hate you.

Leave them a comment. Don’t use a real email address. And don’t leave a url. But make sure you use the words “Shitty” and Blogs” or “Bloggers” somewhere in the comment.

They’ll start blacklisting IP addresses, but there are a lot of us. That’s a lot of IP address to block.

But Jeckles, why? Why do you even care? Because we are shitty. And we have been for years. And now they have called themselves Shitty Bloggers? I don’t care if it was on purpose or an unhappy accident.

We are Shitty Bloggers and I want them to acknowledge it.

I don’t do comments.
But you can talk about it here.

Be Proud. Be Shitty!