"Put the fucking lotion in the basket!"

Or also known as, 'A Love Letter To My White Trash Neighbors'.

Dear White Trash Neighbors,

I'm sorry, do you prefer the term Appalachian American?

Anywho, it's your neighbor. Yes, the crazy single girl who does her laundry at 11:00 on Friday nights. You know, the one you always run into because you're smoking in the laundry room in a non-smoking building? Yeah, my kid's lungs really appreciate that, you pricks.

I'm pretty sure that between the scent of the ammonia from your eternally unclean cat litter boxes, the pot I can tell you've been smoking (and really, if someone who has never smoked a j can tell, it's strong) and your apparent lack of personal hygiene that you're probably both mental ward escapees. Congratulations on chewing through your bonds, I hear they're a bitch.

I wanted to write you this letter to tell you how much I appreciated your rendition of Bag Full Of Cats Being Beaten With A Sharp Stick in high C. It really was wonderful. I'm almost speechless at it's beauty. Who wouldn't want to hear a tinkling chorus of, 'FUCK YOU's and 'GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!'s? It's not like nails against a chalkboard, I swear. It's like the giggling of magical mermaids under a rainbow waterfall.

But in all seriousness, at 11:00 at night? Really? I was sitting in my living room, the farthest place in my apartment away from yours, and I could still hear every word you said. I have a five year old. You social rejects, please mainline some Drano. Immediately. Honestly, if I could I would toss your asses in pits in the ground and tell you to put the lotion on your skin or else you'd get the hose again.

Please run back to the mental hospital from whence you escaped. Go enjoy the wonderful drugs they give you. I'm pretty sure you'll get something that will make you go catatonic and forget about how daddy beat you and took away your Christmas money from grandma so he could buy another line of nose candy and forget all about that time the condom broke and all he got was this whiny little bitch of a kid.

Oh, and while you're at it, please surrender your cats to the local shelter. Those poor animals didn't do anything bad enough to deserve living in an environment of that quality. No one should ever abuse pussy like that. And maybe make sure the men in white coats give you a shower. With bleach. And Comet. And a stainless steel scouring pad. And a dose of Penicillin. Maybe two for good measure.

Sincerely,

The really annoyed and pissed off girl with the big rack that you're constantly oogling whenever you see me. Seriously, it makes me want to shower in water hot enough to sterilize medical equipment.

Just one more thing I have in common with Debra Morgan.

If you don't know who Debra Morgan is, well, I just feel sorry for you not having experienced the wonder that is Dexter. I heart him like whoa, and I would so marry him and make Harrison a good mama.

Anywho.

So Sunday night was my date with drywall guy, and this date actually went rather well! I met him at a local brewery/pizzeria owned by a couple I know (sending business to the locals, ftw!) around 7. Yes, I texted my mom to let her know when I got there. Apparently by 9 she was beginning to get worried. Good thing beer has a direct line to my bladder, because I texted her when I was peeing and she relaxed a little.

We had a good date, it was low key, and there was beer and pizza... Which, hi? Awesome.

I told him I thought he sounded surprised when I called him last week, and he said that he was. He told me he was driving and thought it was a client calling, and had to pull off to the side of the road because he was so shocked. Yeah, I was totally 'awww'ing on the inside. :) So sweet.

I'm pretty sure he's around 40, which is what I have in common with Debra Morgan. He's kind of like my Special Agent Lundy. Except I haven't slept with him. The night ended in a hug, which was nice. He hasn't called yet, but I'm not too stressed out. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow I'll call him. There was some confusion, he may be waiting for me to call. I'd feel a little bad if that's the case!

I've been talking to a few guys from OkCupid, and they're all pretty cool so far. One in particular is hilarious, one is sweet, and the other is also a little older but witty and smart. So I've got a little rainbow of flavor going on.

God it's good to be keeping busy! Except this motherfucking cold that's creeping up on me. I wanna kick it in the taco so hard it's great grandchildren will be born walleyed.

Alright, I know it's a short post but I'm heading to bed now to try and whip this cold's ass. Tomorrow calls for vitamin C with a strong chance of hot tea.

I am so freaking cool.

Okay, as I'm padding back and forth down the hallway to check on the washer in the communal laundry room, I realize something.

My neighbors have to think I'm the coolest girl ever.

Seriously, who else is anally checking on their laundry at 11 pm on a Friday night? This girl, that's who.

Was today really April Fools Day? It felt more like Friday the fucking 13th. Today was Sam's last day, and due to a 'situation' of sorts, he ended up leaving very early today. Which, hi? Sucked.

Combine losing a good work friend with riding the cotton pony, and you have a very emotional, uterus-inclined, crazy fucking patchwork blanket of hormones blanketing my psyche. Jesus. Honestly, I cried today. Like, a lot. Like, couldn't talk about him leaving without crying. The worst part is I have NO idea why I'm so emotional about the whole damn thing. Sad I could understand. This emotional level has a big pink vagina all over it.

He and I went through a lot together at work and there were a few very stressful times it was just him and I working together in the lab. I guess I felt bonded or some other sentimental bullshit. Or it could be that he's the only person in that building I could really be myself with... With everyone else I have to watch everything I say and do, and even when I said something over the top he never seemed to care.

He made work fun. I'm going to miss that.

Now I get to take over his managerial duties. Let the fucking fun begin. The next few months are going to be really, really interesting. Guess I've gotta put on the big girl panties (don't worry, I'll wear a pantyliner so I don't get uterus all over them) and just deal.

Also, I hate when I want to eat and I'm not hungry. For a few reasons, actually. For one, nothing ever seems to sound good. Like, even if I were at a restaurant I have no clue what I'd order (besides a big fucking drink). And B, it's all unhealthy or some bullshit.

And on another note, I tried edamame the other day and holy hell is that delicious. Who knew legumes could be tasty?

Right now I'm stressed and upset, and I want to eat. Except I'm not hungry. Our boss bought us Dairy Queen (I got an Oreo blizzard, if any of you really care), so the pint of Ben and Jerry's in my freezer is totally unappetizing to me. Chocolate doesn't sound good. Tried having a few pieces of Laffy Taffy, and that's not working for me. Two strawberries and I gave up on those.

Christ, no wonder I'm not hungry, I've eaten a lot today. (Cause I also got an order of teriyaki boneless wings for lunch)(shut up, I was craving fried food and after the day I'd been having I deserved it)

In the words of Fairy Godmother from Shrek 2, "Someone bring me something deep fried and smothered in chocolate."

Ha, I said that to a coworker and she gave me a questioning look. I informed her I was riding the cotton pony and she just blurts out, "too much information!" hehe. Then she told me the state fair isn't for a couple more months, so I'd have to wait. Grr.

I'm going to attempt Chocolate Bacon Cupcakes on Sunday as a gift for Sam for helping me move last month. I hope they turn out well and that he likes them. I'll have to catch you all up on the food porn you've been missing, too! At least now I have some blog post ideas for when my stupid formerly bleach blonde brain is too fried to think of anything coherent beyond, "It's 5:00 somewhere, right?"

Why I punched myself yesterday...

Yesterday was a stabby sort of day... And the way today has started, it's probably going to be the same.

Yesterday I get to work and my boss bitches me out for some stupid thing I really have no control over... We verify that both husband and wife should be at the appointment. I tell them this. My manager tells them this. The associate arrives and the wife isn't home. This, of course, is my fault.

And then I think I called every douche bag in the area I was calling yesterday.

I got the "I'm going to tell you I'm not interested before you even get a chance to say anything" douche. The one who, after I say, "This is Ashley with XYZ Company, how are you doing today?" snaps at me... "I'M NOT INTERESTED IN WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING." *click*

Seriously, how difficult is it to listen to what a person has to say and tell them - POLITELY - that you appreciate their time, but you're just not interested. It's a much kinder way to tell people that. People who work in call centers usually don't get paid shit, and they have to deal with a crap ton of rude ass motherfuckers. Is it really that difficult to just be polite and tell them you're just not interested?

I also got the, "This just isn't worth my time" douche. I'm so terribly sorry, I didn't get the memo that you are GOD. Really? You don't even know where I'm from or what I'm calling about. I could be calling you to tell you that my mega-conglomerate company just took over the piddly shit insurance company you go through, and that your insurance is about to be cancelled. Not that this is what actually happens, but still. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I HAVE TO TELL YOU. How do you know it's not worth your time?

The "I have more important things to do" douche. Closely related to the "This just isn't worth my time" douche. I actually had someone tell me yesterday that they have more important things to do and they really didn't care to hear what I had to say. Unless you're on your way to catch a plane to de-worm orphans in Somalia, perform a life-saving surgery, or doing a colon cleansing... Well, I'm sure you can catch my drift.

The "I'm going to let you get to the very end of your spiel before I tell you I'm not interested" douche. You should know halfway through my spiel if you are or are not interested. Then, see above rule and say, "I appreciate your time, but I'm just not interested. Thank you."

The "I'm going to ask 5,000 questions about each and every gift you offer me and THEN tell you I'm not interested" douche. I seriously had one lady ask me about 10 different questions regarding what types of toilet paper our grocery coupon booklet offers. No joke. I get that you have a sensitive septic system, but really? You really need 50 cents to $1 off of your oh-so-precious toilet paper? BIG DEAL. PAY THE EXTRA 50 CENTS.

Also, I'm dealing with something right now that is making me even stabbier than usual... So I'm thinking it's in my best personal interest to just leave the public word-vomit portal before I spew something really bad... Because it could unleash a shit storm that I just do NOT have the energy to deal with.

Anyone out there willing to lend me their blog to spew forth an anonymous post of vitriol?

I'm aliiiiive... I'm aliiiiiiiiiiiiiive!!!!!

So, after $140 on a router and a new stick of RAM, my computer is finally internet capable!

The good news is that I'm going to have a shit-ton of time to blog, kittens.

The bad news is that it's because I sprained my ankle.

Yep, yours truly - who is the most graceful person on earth (/sarcasm) - slipped on the ice and fucked her ankle up royally. I sprained my left ankle, and it went out from me to the left, perpendicular to my leg, as my body weight came crunching down on the right side of my ankle. I felt and heard that little bastard crunch.

More good news? There are no breaks. I still have to see an orthopedic specialist tomorrow, because the ankle bone on the fibula side is separated a bit from where it should be.

I did dun gud. Wanna see my gorgeous, unshaven, swollen ankle? Too bad, you're going to anyway. :)

Isn't it beautiful?

Anywho, I am now the mother of a 4 year old. Erflet turned four earlier last month, and I'm still in disbelief. We had a great time, took him up to the mall, had Pretzelmaker for dinner, played with trains at Barnes and Noble, and got him a double chocolate Godiva cupcake for a treat. :)

Ugh, this damn splint feels like it's cutting into the outside of my foot. At least Erf is being a good nurse... He insisted last night that I be a good patient, no being stubborn about trying to do things by myself. Letting myself be pampered and having every whim attended to is more difficult than I thought it would be... I just don't want to overdo it and then have him tired out when I really need him. I seriously couldn't ask for a better husband.

Poor Erflet was freaked out, though. My mom screamed up the stairs to my dad, "Come quick, Ashley fell!" Erflet was in tears by the time my dad and Erf got me inside. He wouldn't come near me for about a half an hour, and asked me, "Mama, are you going to be alive tomorrow?" I felt so bad for him. My sister, Katie, came to put Erflet to bed while Erf took me to the ER, and she said he had a really tough time falling asleep. He didn't want to go to daycare this morning, either.

But seeing me on crutches is apparently a sight and a half. I've never sprained or broken anything before now, so crutches are a totally foreign concept to me.

I've got some updates and downloads to do, so I'll blog again later or perhaps tomorrow! Yay! :)

Holy motherfuck. I'm watching Katt Williams.

Dude is like a little black Chris Kattan. He's spastic and 4 feet tall.

Not to mention WHO-LARIOUS.

By the way, I'm super excited that my parents know Chris Mancini. Well, they don't KNOW him know him, but they've heard of him. But he once commented on my blog.

How did this come about? Because I told my parents that I was friends with Dane Cook on Facebook. Along with 12,000 other fucking people.

And then my dad told me I needed to do something to make myself stand out.

Because apparently, the dream that I had where he and I had some mad awesome chemistry and he asked me on a date? He doesn't remember being in that dream. Bastard. He never called after that either.

So to prove my Awesomeness (TM), I told him about Chris Mancini commenting on my blog. And to my delight, they've seen him on TV before!

I just moved up a spot in life. *smile*

Speaking of Movin' On Up...

(To the east si-i-de...) (Ok, enough with the Jeffersons references)

I have a job!!! I start my training next Wednesday. I don't feel like describing it, but it should be good money. And as a backup, I've also got an interview for two other positions before I start training on Wednesday.

The bad news is that Erf is done at the fast food restaurant of Douchebaggery. He was supposed to have through Black Friday,

(Nov. 26 for those of you morons who don't know what the fuck Black Friday is)(You suck if you didn't know that Black Friday is the day after Thanskgiving, btw)

but they told him that business isn't good enough for them to keep it so they made him run 6 fucking boxes of shit from one store up to the other and THEN fucking told him that they didn't need him anymore.

Bastards.

I just watched Katt Williams pretend to throw a bowling ball... Hrm.

This motherfucker just came on asking for a "What?"

Got one for ya, right here. Whaaat?

Also, I think I'd like to have sex with Danica Patrick.

Sooo... Blogs are going to be diminishing for a while...

I got fired yesterday.

It was my fault, I will totally own up to that.

My boss pulled me into the office five minutes before closing, and told me that he was terminating me - effective immediately.

Because all I have is mobile internet on my phone - regardless of my qwerty keyboard - I'm not going to be updating unless I get access to a computer. Which won't happen often...

Which is going to suck. But I couldn't let my kittens go without me without an explanation of sorts before I disappear into the land of the internet-less. I may resort to stone wheels and foot-powered vehicular transportation to match my internet-less existence. I'll still be on Twitter, since that is easily accessed from my phone and via text message alerts.

I love you and I'll be back as soon as I can be. ;)

Kissing the ass of the dick that fucks you.

I've had way too many posts all full of vitriol lately. Erf's work has done many things to piss me off though, in all fairness...

And up until this point, I've been fairly tolerant. I've just told Erf to stick it out, because getting him to quit seems to be the only logical explanation for all the bs they're spewing out lately. I figure that in most cases it's best to leave an employer with a good impression and no reason to give you a negative reference.

This, my kittens, is NOT one of those cases.

I've only quit without a two-week notice in one case. Ever. That was because my manager kept badgering me about my weight, and it was totally harassment. I never reported her, which I regret, but karma came and bit her ass... She was fired for drinking on the job.

Erf's district has said some shitty things to him up until this point. Which, you know, he's the district. Whatever. But what happened this morning was just over the line.

Erf got to work this morning to find the place a total mess. He's maintenance. It's his job to clean, yes, but not to clean up the shit that the crew members should be doing.

Can I just go on the record telling you all that when he was a manager if he had let his crew leave the place like that he would have gotten his ass CHEWED at the VERY least?

When he called the district to complain about the condition the place was left in (ice cream and toppings all over the counters and floor, the grill a total mess) he was told that it's his job to do their bitch work. Which means that, most likely, they won't be reprimanded for not doing THEIR jobs.

(I think I've caught a case of caps.)(Capital letters, not caps like popping a cap in someone's ass)(though I'd love to pop caps in a few choice asses right now)

It's one thing to say shitty things when you're the manager, but to allow others to shit on him like this? It's unacceptable. And it's bad business ethic.

Sadly, though, Erf needs this job until something else comes along. Anything that will pay him more than this job, really.

Except that newspaper route in the ghetto part of Duluth. Cause you could totally be killed running that route. And besides, it doesn't pay more than this job.

But when he gets a new job, I totally and completely support not giving them any notice whatsoever. I mean, fuck, he's due to be done as of Black Friday anyhow. What the fuck do they care?

Now, all I need to do is figure out a way to sneak sugar into the district's gas tank without getting caught...*

* No, I wouldn't really do that. But I'd really, really like to. I'd settle for keying his truck...

In which I turn to you, my readers, because I'm a please-everyone whore.

Yes, I will eschew my own happiness to make everyone else happy. I have done it for quite some time and will probably continue to try and make everyone happy regardless of how many times I find myself curled in the fetal position in my shower with mascara streaks running down the drain.

I frequently do everything I can, due to some of my family members' high-maintenance personalities, to make family happy. I grew up in a fairly happy home, but nothing changed the fact that my birth mother left me when I was born - and left me feeling as if I had done something wrong.

So, from early childhood, I've felt the need for approval. To know that I'm liked. This lent itself well to my high-school years as I am a pretty likeable person who can mold her personality at a whim. It's also helped me in various jobs that most people would've found unbearable. I'm that customer service person. Yep. I'm like the real life fucking Flo from the Progressive commercials.

Except you'll never catch me in a Bumpit with bright red lipstick.

Sometimes, though, I have enough and I open my mouth. I can stand up for myself, but the people who piss me off usually have a hard time hearing the truth about themselves. And so they stop talking to me for periods of time. So you may understand why I usually keep my wide ass trap shut up tighter than Fort Knox.

And because underneath the swagger I'm still a giant pussy, I'd like to ask you for your opinions on something that developed over the weekend. I can never be sure if I've overreacted to something, so here goes...

As most of you who follow my blog know, my husband Erf recently got demoted, causing us to need to apply for assistance until he can find another full-time job. It's not something I'm proud of because I thought that this portion of our lives was behind us; but I accept that it is, for now, a necessity. And I plan on getting off of it as soon as I possibly can, because I'm not one of those deadbeat parents who lets the state pay for everything without doing their best to support themselves -

And that is not directed to those who need aid to survive; it's directed to the crackwhores who squirt out babies for welfare money -

I'm a proud person. But I'm not too proud to take help when it's needed. I pay my taxes, and you're damn straight that I've got every right to use the state aid I help pay for to help me when I need it.

However, a family friend of mine commented on my facebook status yesterday, and I - being the giant pussy I am - am wondering if there's something different you might have said/done or if you think I may have overreacted.

The only things I'm changing are the names.

My Facebook status:

Excited for steak and baked potatoes. For now, watching Erf whup some orc ass (ironically, he named his char Urukai) in Champions of Norrath. The Everquest PS2 game is pretty decent. Nice and long - which, for Erf, is good!

My family friend, who is all about the dramz, posted a comment on that status. This is our following exchange (the red is him, blue is me):

How can you afford steak and potatos when you just posted that you were applying for assistance?

You know, Dramz, that's more than a little insulting and degrading. Way to make me feel like shit about something that's out of my control.

And fyi, I bought a cheap cut at $2 per steak and marinaded it and a 5 lb bag of potatoes is like $3 - if it's any of your business. Not like I fucking bought filet mignon...

Ashley? You posted it for everyone to see and I commented. No need to get all nasty on me. You said it. NOT ME! I can barely afford a pack of hot dogs let alone a cheap ass steak. More power to you if you can get the government to pay for you to eat steak and pay for health care and day care. Our system is FUC**D!

I said that I applied for assistance - whose business is it how I purchase food? I usually eat nothing but chicken and ground turkey because it's cheaper than beef. I buy almost everything generic now.

And Erf and I are both working, so we do have some income. The government didn't pay for our steak because it hasn't given us anything yet. It's no one else's business how we spend our money but ours, but it came out of our pocket. It's not like I applied for assistance because I'm some crackwhore trying to fuck the system. I didn't enjoy doing it, and I hope to get off it as soon as I can. But Erf got demoted and got his hours docked severely - so we NEED the help. I'm doing what needs to be done to help my family. Who are you to judge me? Because you're making me sound like some worthless welfare mom who's letting the government pay for everything. I'm not. I work full time and I pay taxes, so the money I'm paying my state should help me when I need it. I make NO apologies for that.

So, what do you think? Overreaction? Or was I right to react as I did?

Also, please know that I don't routinely go around spouting off things like this - or at least, I pretend that I don't. :)

The good news is that I'm planning on reviewing my JimmyJane Massage Oil candle tomorrow! They're fabulous, and if you can get one, buy one!

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming already in progress...

Short post today

I'm not going to post a long blog today like I usually do. I'm feeling stabby, and my eyes hurt.

Why do my eyes hurt? Because I think I may need glasses. I don't wear them now, but I can feel the strain when I'm looking at the computer screen. I'm struggling to differentiate the words sometimes, especially when people don't use freaking paragraph breaks.

The bad news is that with Erf's recent demotion and our lack of Comfortable Income, I can't go up to the walk-in eye clinic and then take my prescription next door to Eye Mart and get new glasses in an hour. Cause I don't need stupid shit like Transitions or anti-glare lenses. Either way, It's $55 for the exam and $80+ for the frames alone... It cost us about $300 total when we got Erf's this spring, but he got Transitions.

And no, we don't have insurance. I'm hoping to get back on the Wisconsin BadgerCare bandwagon, but I'm waiting for Erf's first check without any salary days on it. And the bad news is that there's only one eye exam place that takes Badgercare around here, and Badgercare clients are last priority and have a special list that's usually a 3-month wait. And then another couple week wait for the glasses.

Anyone willing to pay $300 for new glasses so I don't go fucking crazy at work?

And work is making me stabby today. Mullet-ed attorney did some free checking into a matter for a client's friend, and she totally bitched at me because things weren't going exactly how SHE wanted them to go. Sorry, but it's not his responsibility to file this paperwork you're waiting for, so yes, you'll have to go to court until the opposing attorney files it. No need to call Mullet-ed attorney a 'horseshit attorney who apparently didn't fucking do anything for you'.

You didn't pay him. As an attorney friend of mine said very eloquently, "Pro bono work is great in theory. In theory."

I'm thinking of taking a Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday off so that I can have a few recoup days. I haven't had any days off since after the wedding in April... Even though we have half-day Fridays. What am I bitching for? I don't know. I'd just like some alone time, I guess.

My eyes are hurting... Off to listen to some music and be thankful that I don't have any computer work to do...