Oh come the fuck on people. Really. As a society we have shut off our brains and do not have an original thought or idea anymore. All of the movie remakes, Discouraging a musician from singing original works on LIVE TV. Forcibly telling someone they will never make if they are not coping the greats. REALLY? So if all of the greats copied each other, would we ever hear a new song? NO. If Monet copied Micheal Angelo Would we have new art work? NO.
If you are not aware of the situation I am referring its Americas Got Talent. Last nights episode they told a singer to sing a "popular" song. Or the audience won't be entertained. Now 2 problems, the audience is not stupid, you don't need to "dumb" down a performance to fit the audience. They will like it or not, but give them the opportunity to hear it first. Second, they are constantly referring to acts as "new", "fresh" except when it comes to the singers, then they tell them to copy? this doesn't make sense, do you want new and fresh or do you want a copy cat? The judges have sent Magicians home because its something they have seen. Why can't the same thing be said for music? UGH. More on this subject when I don't need a shot of well anything to not break my TV.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Ch. 2 Evil Fetus becomes a Toddler
Well so as most stories progress, I became a toddler. However neither my sperm donor nor my egg donor really knew what to do with me. So my sperm donor thought it would be great to go into the military. So off he went and joined the Army. For a drug addict hippy this was pretty much a bad idea from the jump. My egg donor decided that after 2 years of raising me she had had enough. They decided to come up with a brilliant plan of sharing custody every three years to one and three years to another. However this did not take effect until I was about 5.
My first memories of my Alaska Military life were of my sperm donor telling me how wrong it was to sleep on your back. Bizarre Memory but truth none the less. I remember being woken up in a complete dream fog and being in Major trouble for daring to sleep on my back. Major trouble in this house hold typically meant a belt. As any human being could imagine this thought still boggles my mind to this day.
I remember our apartment clearly. Small Kitchen facing living room and open very open. Sliding glass doors with very dark curtains. As with most Alaskans in the area know the curtains are to prevent the light because it never went dark. For 6 months it was always light out.
My first black eye was in Alaska, I remember it fondly. I decided in all my brilliant childlike wisdom to go down a frozen slide face first. I hit my eye on a very frozen Ice ball, maybe a rock covered in Ice. Not sure.
I went home and was met with laughter from my sperm donor and his wife at the time. No steak on the face, no frozen peas to dull the pain. And as if sleeping on my back was not odd enough my sperm donor thought it would be a great idea to make "black eyed peas" for dinner. I was forced to eat them in all mockery fun that was my father. I truly wish I was talking about the band. To this day the sight of the slimy things makes my skin crawl.
Many memories are such like this one. I don't remember anything truly pleasant from this time. No hugs no laughter inside the house.
Its possible that in my minds eye I dwell on the negative and thus am unable to see any positive if there was any. But I find it hard not to dwell on the negative when I think of this time. One of my memories was of my very first earth quake. Apparently Common for normal people living in this area. Not even a big one. Didn't make anyone talk or even make big news. But it was big enough to wake me up and come into the living room. The house was a sleep. I tried to wake my sperm donor up as the living room was becoming an absolute mess. He told me to go to bed and that's what I did. When it was over It took me a while to fall asleep but I did eventually. I was awoken to screams of horror and a yell from my father to "get my ass in the living room" I walked in to much of what I went to bed with, broken pictures tipped over lamps, not horrible, it could have been worse.
As I was being screamed at for the mess I caused I tried to explain that the house was "shaking" though my vocab at this time was limited. They did not believe me of course. I was sent to the corner. Were I remained for what seemed hours. I was released from my prison for bathroom breaks and some food.
Several times with the intention of them trying to get the "truth" from me. Each time my side was the same. My savor was the blip on the news about the Earthquake. I will never forget that blip. "small earthquake wakes a small neighborhood more at 11". No damage major damage reported, no one was injured. end blip.
I was let out of my wall prison, no I am sorry we were wrong. Just let out and told to go to bed. that was the last I ever heard about the subject.
So you see I have a hard time seeing the positives of that time. however I know I would never change my past, you can't. I don't dwell on it, except here. And it did make me who I am. I was "hardened" at a very young age. I eventually softened as you will see in subsequent chapters. I think we all can learn from our past even the awful parts. I have more awful parts than good. I didn't follow my dreams and I made horrible mistakes. But its all apart of growing up really.
My first memories of my Alaska Military life were of my sperm donor telling me how wrong it was to sleep on your back. Bizarre Memory but truth none the less. I remember being woken up in a complete dream fog and being in Major trouble for daring to sleep on my back. Major trouble in this house hold typically meant a belt. As any human being could imagine this thought still boggles my mind to this day.
I remember our apartment clearly. Small Kitchen facing living room and open very open. Sliding glass doors with very dark curtains. As with most Alaskans in the area know the curtains are to prevent the light because it never went dark. For 6 months it was always light out.
My first black eye was in Alaska, I remember it fondly. I decided in all my brilliant childlike wisdom to go down a frozen slide face first. I hit my eye on a very frozen Ice ball, maybe a rock covered in Ice. Not sure.
I went home and was met with laughter from my sperm donor and his wife at the time. No steak on the face, no frozen peas to dull the pain. And as if sleeping on my back was not odd enough my sperm donor thought it would be a great idea to make "black eyed peas" for dinner. I was forced to eat them in all mockery fun that was my father. I truly wish I was talking about the band. To this day the sight of the slimy things makes my skin crawl.
Many memories are such like this one. I don't remember anything truly pleasant from this time. No hugs no laughter inside the house.
Its possible that in my minds eye I dwell on the negative and thus am unable to see any positive if there was any. But I find it hard not to dwell on the negative when I think of this time. One of my memories was of my very first earth quake. Apparently Common for normal people living in this area. Not even a big one. Didn't make anyone talk or even make big news. But it was big enough to wake me up and come into the living room. The house was a sleep. I tried to wake my sperm donor up as the living room was becoming an absolute mess. He told me to go to bed and that's what I did. When it was over It took me a while to fall asleep but I did eventually. I was awoken to screams of horror and a yell from my father to "get my ass in the living room" I walked in to much of what I went to bed with, broken pictures tipped over lamps, not horrible, it could have been worse.
As I was being screamed at for the mess I caused I tried to explain that the house was "shaking" though my vocab at this time was limited. They did not believe me of course. I was sent to the corner. Were I remained for what seemed hours. I was released from my prison for bathroom breaks and some food.
Several times with the intention of them trying to get the "truth" from me. Each time my side was the same. My savor was the blip on the news about the Earthquake. I will never forget that blip. "small earthquake wakes a small neighborhood more at 11". No damage major damage reported, no one was injured. end blip.
I was let out of my wall prison, no I am sorry we were wrong. Just let out and told to go to bed. that was the last I ever heard about the subject.
So you see I have a hard time seeing the positives of that time. however I know I would never change my past, you can't. I don't dwell on it, except here. And it did make me who I am. I was "hardened" at a very young age. I eventually softened as you will see in subsequent chapters. I think we all can learn from our past even the awful parts. I have more awful parts than good. I didn't follow my dreams and I made horrible mistakes. But its all apart of growing up really.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Ch. 1 Conception of the Evil Fetus
Whoa, so this may take a bit to tell, so I am going to say this is Desirae Chapter 1.
Spelling BAD, I will try and spell check....but I am not promising a thing!
I am not a drug addict or an Alcoholic. I am not a hooker, nor have I even stripped for a living. Never thought about suicide or anything else that may make a story an interesting one. However its fascinating in itself how I could have gone through so much and ended up not being on of those fore mentioned categories.
I was born. Yes born, not a test tube or cloned. I was conceived the good old fashioned way by a couple of teenagers at a party.
My egg donors version, she needed to get out of her house. She was under the rule of her parents, and as all teenagers will tell you...that they know more and why should they listen to parents. My grandfather had died about the same time my mother conceived me and wouldn't you know it My father was older by a couple of years. Can we say daddy issues?
My sperm donors version is well, she was willing and why not.....He did the "right" thing and married her....Great....One point for Egg Donor...Trap 1 a success......Sperm donor had his own issues though, primarily drugs alcohol oh and did I mention, Narcissistic Sociopath....but that's a different chapter.
My mother started to abuse drugs and Alcohol around the same time. She claims that in the 70's you were told by doctors to drink a glass of red wine a day to help with anxiety and antioxidants for the developing fetus, well my question to her was was the glass for a giant? Or did she just drink right from the Trailer park Box?
So as I have heard the stories from both sides, My mom, tells me that right after they got married things starting turning for the worse, No really? Ya Think?, she caught him cheating a number of times with what she calls very Ugly women.....big boned and big breasted and Young, always under 19. He at the time was 21 or 22. She told me she tried to get a divorce but the judge told her she was hormonal and couldn't get a divorce until the baby was born.
According to accounts the day she went into labor, she packed his bags took them to his girlfriends house and demanded the divorce...funny a woman in labor having the were-with-all to pack a bag....ummmm questionable. Anyways, She states when she got there she caught him in the act with the LARGE woman. After the act of pushing a baby out was done, she went to the judge and had him sign the order......Not sure which events are true. But as she puts it my 5 pound body ravaged her insides and she lay bed ridden for days, so how she went to the judge the next day has always remains a mystery.
My dads side is quite different as you can imagine....according to his side, my mom became bitchy, whinny and naggy. OF COURSE...all women according to men have the same affliction, couldn't possibly be the men? He claims he was not informed of my impending ravaging of my mothers body. He states he was only with other women after they went their separate ways....well not sure I believe either one of them. BUT what can I do. So here I am, Evil Fetus. Hear me roar.....
Oh sure this isn't any different than most Evil Fetus stories. We come in a ball of cells hell bent on destroying the parents who foolishly thought we would change everything for the better. And as you will see in further chapters this will not be the case. Stay tuned for the case Of Evil Fetus turns into a Toddler....
Spelling BAD, I will try and spell check....but I am not promising a thing!
I am not a drug addict or an Alcoholic. I am not a hooker, nor have I even stripped for a living. Never thought about suicide or anything else that may make a story an interesting one. However its fascinating in itself how I could have gone through so much and ended up not being on of those fore mentioned categories.
I was born. Yes born, not a test tube or cloned. I was conceived the good old fashioned way by a couple of teenagers at a party.
My egg donors version, she needed to get out of her house. She was under the rule of her parents, and as all teenagers will tell you...that they know more and why should they listen to parents. My grandfather had died about the same time my mother conceived me and wouldn't you know it My father was older by a couple of years. Can we say daddy issues?
My sperm donors version is well, she was willing and why not.....He did the "right" thing and married her....Great....One point for Egg Donor...Trap 1 a success......Sperm donor had his own issues though, primarily drugs alcohol oh and did I mention, Narcissistic Sociopath....but that's a different chapter.
My mother started to abuse drugs and Alcohol around the same time. She claims that in the 70's you were told by doctors to drink a glass of red wine a day to help with anxiety and antioxidants for the developing fetus, well my question to her was was the glass for a giant? Or did she just drink right from the Trailer park Box?
So as I have heard the stories from both sides, My mom, tells me that right after they got married things starting turning for the worse, No really? Ya Think?, she caught him cheating a number of times with what she calls very Ugly women.....big boned and big breasted and Young, always under 19. He at the time was 21 or 22. She told me she tried to get a divorce but the judge told her she was hormonal and couldn't get a divorce until the baby was born.
According to accounts the day she went into labor, she packed his bags took them to his girlfriends house and demanded the divorce...funny a woman in labor having the were-with-all to pack a bag....ummmm questionable. Anyways, She states when she got there she caught him in the act with the LARGE woman. After the act of pushing a baby out was done, she went to the judge and had him sign the order......Not sure which events are true. But as she puts it my 5 pound body ravaged her insides and she lay bed ridden for days, so how she went to the judge the next day has always remains a mystery.
My dads side is quite different as you can imagine....according to his side, my mom became bitchy, whinny and naggy. OF COURSE...all women according to men have the same affliction, couldn't possibly be the men? He claims he was not informed of my impending ravaging of my mothers body. He states he was only with other women after they went their separate ways....well not sure I believe either one of them. BUT what can I do. So here I am, Evil Fetus. Hear me roar.....
Oh sure this isn't any different than most Evil Fetus stories. We come in a ball of cells hell bent on destroying the parents who foolishly thought we would change everything for the better. And as you will see in further chapters this will not be the case. Stay tuned for the case Of Evil Fetus turns into a Toddler....
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
OutCast and still going strong.
So I find out a relitive died. Wanna know how, fucking facebook. Are you fucking kidding me. I am that much of a fucking black sheep that it didn't dawn on anybody to pick up a phone. Ya remember those, when they were used for TALKING. I know its an old concept actually pick it up, dial the 10 didgets and push TALK, or send. Ya know how you would type it...well this is talking with your FUCKING MOUTH. Not your thumbs.
If ever I wanted to be pissed its now. Do you know in the last ten years I have not been invited to a single family function? I have no idea why. I have never been to jail, never stolen anything, never talked ill of anyone in our family, except when my grandmas being a spaz and usually someone else brings it up. I always send Christmas Cards and if I remember I send a birthday card. The only person to remember my birthday is my Grandmother. Mom? Nope, Dad? Nope....facebook told them it was my birthday.
Three years ago I get pregnant with my second child, and my last, I sent Updates, as if anyone fucking cared, but I did. Copied my ultra sounds and sent them, with "ITS A BOY" crap. Nothing not even a congrats or wow. Nothing. He was born and the only person to come see me, my Aunt. Even my Grandma said you can't have the baby because its my birthday party. Oh, and your Aunt can't go until after that. Sorry, I don't care that you had to have a C-section and could really use the help.
Or maybe just a simple, ya know I miss you, how about you come over for Thanksgiving....NOPE. What am I supposed to do, Ask my entire family to come to my 2 bedroom apt, where they wouldn't even come to, because why? I am a person they share blood with, thats it. My growth done, now there responsibility is over done with no need to show love or affection. It fucking sucks. And it sucks for my kids. My dease is such that I won't be around always, and yet they have no family. More elaboration to come in many other chapters.... It just really sucks to know that you don't have a place.
If ever I wanted to be pissed its now. Do you know in the last ten years I have not been invited to a single family function? I have no idea why. I have never been to jail, never stolen anything, never talked ill of anyone in our family, except when my grandmas being a spaz and usually someone else brings it up. I always send Christmas Cards and if I remember I send a birthday card. The only person to remember my birthday is my Grandmother. Mom? Nope, Dad? Nope....facebook told them it was my birthday.
Three years ago I get pregnant with my second child, and my last, I sent Updates, as if anyone fucking cared, but I did. Copied my ultra sounds and sent them, with "ITS A BOY" crap. Nothing not even a congrats or wow. Nothing. He was born and the only person to come see me, my Aunt. Even my Grandma said you can't have the baby because its my birthday party. Oh, and your Aunt can't go until after that. Sorry, I don't care that you had to have a C-section and could really use the help.
Or maybe just a simple, ya know I miss you, how about you come over for Thanksgiving....NOPE. What am I supposed to do, Ask my entire family to come to my 2 bedroom apt, where they wouldn't even come to, because why? I am a person they share blood with, thats it. My growth done, now there responsibility is over done with no need to show love or affection. It fucking sucks. And it sucks for my kids. My dease is such that I won't be around always, and yet they have no family. More elaboration to come in many other chapters.... It just really sucks to know that you don't have a place.
I make No apologies
Sorry but I don't.
I am who I choose to be. My Blogs will be truthful, even though it some will be hard to believe, especially the chapters on my life.
All comments are welcome, I am a true believer of freedom of speech. IF you are not 18 or older, get the heck out. I use bad language. I may speak on something inappropriate for young audiences. Again, this is me and I make no apologies. Sorry... :p
Don't like my humor, don't read. Like my humor by all means pass it on. Good Luck And I promise soon I will get to the nitty gritty of why a 32 year old woman just now started to blog about her very story filled life.
All stories are mine. If you copy Credit me. Don't Steal. I am not a cold hearted bitch, but I will call you on it if I catch it.
I am who I choose to be. My Blogs will be truthful, even though it some will be hard to believe, especially the chapters on my life.
All comments are welcome, I am a true believer of freedom of speech. IF you are not 18 or older, get the heck out. I use bad language. I may speak on something inappropriate for young audiences. Again, this is me and I make no apologies. Sorry... :p
Don't like my humor, don't read. Like my humor by all means pass it on. Good Luck And I promise soon I will get to the nitty gritty of why a 32 year old woman just now started to blog about her very story filled life.
All stories are mine. If you copy Credit me. Don't Steal. I am not a cold hearted bitch, but I will call you on it if I catch it.
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