Turtles that Steal, and How I Sometimes Tire of living in the World of Hypocrites.

Warning: Husband thinks I am sick and therefore that is why I've become such a raging...well, you don't even need me to type it DO You? The very fact that he has finally noticed something amiss with my personality should give you Dearest Reader, clue that something really IS wrong, as I have been casually mentioning. It boggles this writer's mind.

Other Things boggling This Writer's keen and oh-so-on-it mind: I'm trying to understand one of my many stat counters, and find some listing of the all time most gone to sites. I don't expect Adventures of a JungleTart to be there, however I must admit that I find it utterly unbelievable that a website dedicated to TURTLES is raking in tens of thousands of people flocking to it. It really is enough to put the stake in my heart and twist it until the aortal vein severs. It's got some fancy, ridiculous name but when you click it, it's turtles people. I wrack my brain for the 7 people who show up on this site, and it turns you just need to post pics of the slowest, most boring critter on planet Earth. Burn, on me!


Oh, for all of you sad, so sad inside for Tart because she should run and get Essure as soon as the Labor Day weekend is over, just you stop your special tears of remissment. I have discovered 'Mommas website for completely inane women' and may I say, "Thank you Jesus that I will never have to update other (supposed) women on my pregnant condition, nor never have to figure out what TTC or whatever it is, is about." (Taken To Cursing? I'll stop there.) May I repeat, "Thank you, Jesus." Now I know why I will not be 'blessed with bundles of everlasting problems' or why I won't be leading tomorrow's youth in whatever crappy tomorrow we've already doomed them to, or my heart will never feel the joy of screaming/slapping a squalling kid in either Walmart or the one time my husband is not too tired to take me out to eat ('cause my husband would deal w/ kid, oh yes he would, and would be tired from it too. But, may I remind you WE WON'T BE!)


No, cruel life has relegated me to years of playing Guitar Hero, because I love it, doing Karaoke in the middle of the day - because I can! Sleeping to the wee hours of 3p.m. and later- because nobody cares! Not having a job and refusing to get one until I'm damn good and ready - because I'm not paying for Pampers and college education for some ingrate - NO! I'll work to help pay for credit cards that we're racked up for ME! And those little things in life, like getting to eat out ALL THE TIME, trips to Walmart buying crap we don't REALLY need, and always of course, having high speed internet for my blogging hobby and watching TV once in a while.

Most of all, getting to hold on to what sanity God has still left for me, never having to answer, 'Why?' from anyone else. I do enjoy children. From afar, when my neighbor's kid is finally let outside (I guess the air quality index/number of ions in the atmosphere is okay enough for mom to let her outside for 1.3 minutes) and she waves at me, or little babies that haven't learned to 'work' their parents yet (under 3 months) while passing by in a restaurant (I still think these parents have a lot of gall to subject the rest of us to a potentially squalling baby). I don't have to care. I know that you all are bugging Eli Lilly and all the other R&D places to cure my sh_t, so that I might reproduce and be so happy like you. No, too wrapped up in the 'important work' of making more little you's? Well, until That Day where you care about My Issues, bite me.


And may I say that the lot of you women who use this thing called motherhood to gather together and 'share the joys' of it all - NO! You are gathering together to commiserate all right, gathering to share the misery. Those websites aren't to parcel out the important (and may I say same info over and over?) information (read a book for info, crap up my internet with your bonding) and make sure you get your serving of WIC each day. No, they are to bond you all together.


May I further say, that many of you have been doing stinky, nasty things subserviated yourselves for other people for so long (even Oprah says this is precisely what you do!) that you buy the lie that this is the only way to be, if not merely because you are so dang tired but at least everybody around you is Miserable. But, see the struggling beacon of light, the woman going for life sans (that means w/out) Misery (What! No sleep deprivation! I know you'd hit me with a sauce pan if you hadn't become so weak from it yourself!) and you delicate ladies get vicious. (See what the supposed average housewife had to say about 'Slummy Mummy.' ROWR, girls!)


I hope you are fuming. I hope you are upset. I hope you are leading all of your hard-working dutifully reproducing fembots to this very site and begging my provider to shut me down.


I can't help it. I'm not rubbing it in. I'm SCRUBBING IT IN! All you people do is throw it in my face, you wanna bring it, evil Bitches? Let's bring it.


I'm sure you Christian types can clearly see that all the wonderful things in life that I take practically for granted - and I know many of you are seething with unChristian jealousy just the same, can see that I deserve my 'perverted' (can we say realistic) lifestyle. After all, if I can't, in all responsibleness, join the f'n club and shoot out the offspring like a proper b_tch, then I guess I can and should have all the amenities. Because I'm not in a club. Oh no, as the Great Christ Himself said, if my treasures were of this world, then [the people] would be fighting for me. If there was another, just one, like me they must have a touch of retardation to not have found me yet. HELLO, I'M HERE! Yes, that boat has been missed and I fight the tide of the rest of ya's, alone.