I know, I had the same reaction. For the longest time I bit my fingers at the thought of writing. I thought to myself, why the fuck does anyone give a shit what I have to say? Then it dawned on me. Here I am, following about three different blogs... why the fuck do I give a shit what they have to say? For one, the blogs I follow are written by some pretty amazing writers. And they keep me entertained.
As I go through my days and I share some of these stories I get a lot of "What the fuck?" and "Are you serious?" To which I constantly respond, "I can't make this shit up!" I figure if I can entertain those around me, chances are, the people out in imaginary friend land (ie facebook) will find something I have to say entertaining. In the meantime, writing it out pretty much just keeps me from going postal & hitting the local news headlines.
The stories are years of frustration, confusion, anger, and learning how to be stupid happy right in the midst of all the insanity. It's watching my own sweet innocence crumble and be replaced by wall after wall of distrust. Learning that being a loving mother and a cold evil bitch don't always coincide. Most importantly, it's vulgar, straight to the point, and honest. Read it if you want, don't if you don't.
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