Slate: Mummy Slummy and some usual Jungletart hatred. :)

Okay, I read this review about a book about incompetent moms in the NYT, in the stupid Slate (hate the Slate! My responses about a botched Hemingway piece were so underloved on their site. Bite me, Slate.), (I get NYT in my email for free. Apparently, I'm being liberalized and buying into media hype, for FREE). ANYhow, focus, about the story, pay 'tention: You know the type, walking around in pajamas, clueless about how to buy a stroller, ya de yade YA DE! What we're talking about is INCOMPETENT PEOPLE, people! And this reviewer, had some pretty harsh words about THAT! Can't have the world falling apart like that, AND writing about it too - right Drill Sargeant??!! NOO!

Nah, I don't care. I don't care that the reviewer was bitch-y (see that is not a noun, it is an adjective:) or that her minions posts concerning the described article were bitchier c_nts (okay, one of those might be a mean nasty noun. But I do that. I cus. And have a disclaimer. You have been warned). Anyhow, wretched x 100. Don't take MY word for it, I know that all that come here, do their research! Their homework! They want to SEEEE if for themselves. I understand.

What to Make of Slummy Mummy http://www.slate.com/id/2171428/fr/flyout

The reason I don't care about what THEY said is cuz, I took care of them in MY RESPONSE. See that's what I do on a Saturday, waste it away, typing and thinking, or is it thinking and typing? Well anyway, as Slacker #1, bipolar screwed up life speaking, I get to type kick ass responses that I am extremely proud of and you get forced to read it, or at least, I post them on my own blog to not only take credit for it, but to hold it here in glorious terpitude, as well (yes, its a word, I'm pretty sure I used it right, look it up).

Oh, in case you think this slacker has it TOO easy, I had to break up fights between my Pug and Siamese. You have no idea what it's like. The Pug is adorable and wants attention and be on Mommy's lap (I'm Mommy, eat your heart out) so she's standing there with big, big Brown Eyes. Kitty, Reese Kitty, Kitty Boy (Pretty Boy, hell we don't know what to call him) He just doesn't like her being in his room (which the office IS his room, so he's always got a point when he starts pulling this). He YOWLS at her, and if you know what a Siamese sounds like, its a wee bit LOUD. Truth: I wouldn't care about their problems, except he pulls this yowling stuff. Oh its hell. As a comPLETE side note: I don't have stretch marks from children. Aw, I'm just rubbing it in. I've got stretch marks from being fat from being alive. Bipolar and take drugs for it, you'll find yourself fat with stretch marks. Watch anybody care about that. THAT's why my slacker life is hell. And so counter culture. But maybe my 315 other posts explain about that.

Yes. Working for no money, typing on the computer all afternoon, do it for free (um, nobody does it for free. StripTease individuals AND prostitutes get paid, and so does everyone else - so what does that make me?) A brilliant bipolar on disability that quit her last job and resists the guilt to work some MO, and loves the computer and typing crap. Wow! I didn't know I could be described so well! If only it would fit on a resume.

So anyHoo, just go to the url to understand what got me mad enough to spend ALL Saturday afternoon on and never realize the time (that's how you know you're in heaven, no concept of time. That's for artistic types. I have no idea for the boring Everybody Elses. A h_rd-on 'cause the day is done? That's why they rule the world and make it hell for everyone else). THEN, OR you could just read what I have to say. Maybe you'll be interested in the original crap after doing and click on the url above and then somehow I helped this dumb b_tch. Oh well, I always get s_rew_d somehow.

Oh pah-lease, exactly. As a bipolar, 35 (read: No kids YET??!!), married
woman who thankfully has a blog to get out my ‘frighteningly’ similar issues of
slacker lifestyle, I’m thinking “Thank you!” for bringing this apparently
‘terrible book’ to my attention for some intense perusal for my own research, or
at least apparently, mild chuckling, for my own book.

After all,
if this even hint of ‘counter culture’ (read: reality for thousands) bites the
bottom of a bunch of dull, ‘perfect’ people as yourselves, I’m already drooling
thinking of the ‘paper’ (that means money) the publishing house will have to put
out for some well-written slacker lifestyle ‘drivel’ (with admitted bipolar and
brilliant tendencies) by someone who can tell you how it’s
done.

You idiots, there are TONS of almost non-functioning people
out there, yes especially, but not contained to, moms saddled with that ‘most
important of jobs’ which, in my view, has been culturally shoved upon them.
There are many who feel alone and utterly clueless, waiting for some real
information, especially anecdotal, and for a body of people to call their own,
attach to and feel better about themselves with, whether because they simply ARE
everyday ‘slobs’ and clueless, or have something more of a problem and can
finally get help if it’s needed. Thank God they are getting a
voice!

It’s strange that you nearly describe them as the slime of
the earth – have you all become so derogatory and critical that this is what it
takes to make YOU feel better? Methinks you protest the existence and the gall
to speak of the ‘annoyingly less than perfect’ a little too much, eh?

Look, lipstick/no lipstick,
how-dare-these-people-talk-to-me-at-the-playground Stepford-mommie meanies– get
off your high horse. I swear that you really aren’t perfect, better or whatever
your beef is, and need to finally be quiet and realize that what you really are
is: cruel & catty - a game that’s been over since high school and only gets
revived when you get a chance to ‘express your opinion’ on the web and in
reality – do you get that? It’s my sincere prayer that you would stop the
cruelty (which is the bullying of your fellow sisters, whether in your head or
sadly, aloud). You stop it, that would be some significant change in the world.
The first step is understanding that yes, it’s you.
The interesting
question for the reviewer of this book is ‘Are you disturbed because slackers
even exist and that alone is your ‘simple issue,’ or does it gall you that they
would say something and you really think they should be embarrassed, and by God,
it’s your job to embarrass them out of speech? Because I think this is just the
beginning, and rightfully so, of ‘slacker expression.’ If you hate it this much,
I hope they flood the market with it. The time is coming for
judgmental/perfectionist (funny how it really is a combo) so-called ‘normal
folks’ to take your ‘shut-up and eat it’ juice and like it. For your every push
and incessant yammer that insists ‘be like me or say nothing at all’ there ought
to be a slue of those nutty ‘counter culture’ writers to put you into your
place, and I plan to be one of them.

Please use 'GoodSearch' (Oh! And a Well-deserved excruciating Death to Abusers of all kinds Everywhere!)

Warning: Disturbing discussion, especially in last paragraph. Just warning you 'Sensitive Types,' God love ya!

I know I am not far reaching, but that has never stopped me before. I want to spread the word about a fantastic charity - calling all animal lovers - and a really potentially effective way to help it, without ever shelling moolah out of your pockets.

Charity: Save A Pet
Concept: Install the 'GoodSearch' search engine toolbar and use it on a regular basis when looking up things. It's powered by Yahoo and tell it your charity of choice is Save A Pet.

Physically located in the Brentwood, NY area and of course having a great presence on the web with many ways to help, all you have to do is look at www.saveapet.com. It only takes two stories of brutality to make me bawl, but then again, I am premenstrual. Go ahead and test your fortitude when you read the real life crap that people do to animals. You better hold and adore your furry friend(s) when you do, promising them they will NEVER have a life like that.

See, I know that religion and God and Jesus are all about people. And thankfully there are books that pointedly and exactfully point out that 'all flesh' meaning animals too, hello, are up for salvation. I'm pretty sure that all other flesh (animals) have it made, and it's people that are the ones needing to look out for their eternal souls (especially the lady who nearly starved the dog to death to proof a 'point' to ex-husband. I'm thinking if that bitch doesn't change her ways it's straight to Hell-o for her, know what I mean? And I wouldn't mind helping her get there a little quicker, cum sa?). Anyway, clearly in my eyes many, many people are VILE. It apparently takes a rocket scientest too for many people to see that even the meanest, most bitter dog did not get that way without a vile sack of shit (human) to turn him into such. Again, animal: major points, 'human': zero.

Oh, this is a perfect platform to say something about Michael Vick. I have refrained because I did not not want that kind of vileness upon my site. But, Google or GoodSearch (!) your way here, you'll find something useful (GoodSearch - use it people!), so that rocks exceedingly in my world! I would like to say about the sack of shit known as Mr. Vick (I think he should change his name to that like Prince changed his to blah, blah) that I was Very Disappointed in PETA on the day of his arraignment in Richmond (VA). I would have gladly been the person to take the rap for pouring a bucket of blood on the son of a bitch. I also have some creative ways for his well deserved sentence. My special sentence for animal and sexual predators/abusers are similar: After the sentence is announced, do not waste anybody's time or money on all the usual extracurricular crap. Place Evil Individual on tarp (located handily in courtroom). Cut off balls. Or just one if you like. Sexual predators can just bleed out. This son of a bitch gets electrocuted, strangled and slammed to the ground, just like he did his innocents. I'm talking to the balls.
Yeah, well I told you I just didn't want to go there, right? But now this stops the need for explanation for what I'd like to do to the next unbelievable bastard, savvy?

Have a pleasant day, and don't forget to use GoodSearch!!:)

Yeah, I know this is a good one and your dying to steal it. Which is a great way to put it (dying, duh head), because I'll find you, hunt you down, and treat you like the vile criminal that would make you. Good day!

No, that was NOT all.

Jungletart blog would like to make a correction to the post below. The woman in Arkansas had her 17th not 12th child. Thank you.

Um. And why is it if you type in 'I want to work for myself' in Google you will get 5 entries on working for yourself and then they are 'I want to kill myself.' I think when you look into the prospects of working for yourself, you want to kill yourself. You know, I'm all for reducing stigma for mental illness, but could we find a frickin' job for this mentally person at home? I've got a DEGREE, I can type, I can think, I have a computer. Really, people.

And that is it. Really. All the instructional value for only $0. Call now. Operators waiting.

Whew! What a hard labor.

Whenever someone asks me if I've had kids, I'm gonna say No, that lady in Arkansas's been having them for me. I've given her full custody to do as she wishes.

Thanks Lady. Now that she's had her 12th child and going for more, I call about 5 of hers for having populated the planet just fine for me. I'm glad you adore those late (or non) nights. Here's to you.

Oh the (Insensitive) Stigma!

Was looking on BP Guy’s site and he has this bookmark for a site about mental illness, stop the stigma.

Somehow, this got me thinking about when I told my Husband’s grandmother that I am bipolar. I think she first had to consider that this did not mean I was gay. Once this was determined her first words were ‘But you don’t seem crazy.’ I realized, or tried to, that in her vernacular that was meant to be sensitive.

I’m thinking I must not be as frickin’ sensitive as Husband is always saying, because it’s only NOW that I’m thinkin’ things like ‘Gee, if someone hit the old bat with an iron skillet her life force would PROBABLY not ebb away that fast.' You know, insensitive fuckin’ things like that.

Oh my God! You are so Irreverant, Tart!! aka Mountcastle Funeral Home is a wretched establishment that I wouldn't take an enemy to. That is all.

Normally, (hah!) I try not to cut on people/institutions LOL! Well, mentally I’m cutting apart institutions like the meanest of people cut on other people.

Here is a fantastic one! Telemundo is reprimanding a reporter because she was having an affair with the mayor of L.A. (California, a United State) and (here’s the key component) she announced on air his separation from his wife while this same reporter was carrying on said affair with the Mayor. So, if she just handed that story to some other reporter (Oh no! I Couldn’t report That!!) then would she be scot free?

Yes, I know we’re saying who the hell the cares? Whoever Jennifer Flowers worked for could have fired her and we’ll still know who the hell she is (one of Mr. Clinton’s many affairs, hello!) and I’ll never remember the name of the lady involved in this. But moreover, when did Telemundo or Mexican television ever become a moral indicator of anything? I can’t imagine a radio/TV station in the U.S. reprimanding ANYone for anything like this (we bitch about Imus being fired, because he actually did something morally reprehensible). This lady had a private thing going on with a piddly Mayor. And I’m sure it was just a blip in California. Raise your hand if you recall our L.A. Mayor getting a spanking.

It’s like Mexican television saying, “Look, here’s our first reprimanding, ever! Aren’t we so morally clean!” or something. What the? Isn’t that what those people have the Catholic Church for? Couldn’t they have sent the offending reporter for some Hail Mary’s and tape it for a segment about the price of sin on their show? Probably high ratings among the demographic. I’m just sayin.’


Next topic:

I get all kinds of crap in my Yahoo mail account. ‘Best of all,’ are the stuff written by someone whose going through depression coupled with a struggle with sobriety or something like that and gets to spam us all with her ‘issues.’

I’ve said before, to the detriment of people getting upset at me in the past because I actually tried to say things about it that I’ve never struggled with sobriety. It’s always been with me and never tried to slither away. So I’ve been advised to not talk about things I know nothing about. Fine. I know enough about the seedy sides of life to not need another problem. And I won’t cut on a lack or inability to find sobriety (where’d it go? I couldn’t resist) or expound. Either way, I’m safe.

Oh, but I will say I had the equivalent of 2 Tequila shots a few days ago and can report absolutely no repercussions. It was fun and exhilarating, but I know it can’t become a habit. See, sobriety still sitting next to me like a best friend.

BUT, I know loads about depression. I also know about that much nicer state of just thinking you feel fine! And I know about my various levels of being too high (Hunh! If there such a thing!!!!!) and would NEVER want to compare that to others, because apparently there’s ALL kinds of levels to that. Differing levels of suffering too, but to each our own piece of what we call our own, no?

So, anyhow this writer, I hope to God I don’t have to remember her name since I already deleted the stupid thing, was saying they were in what I would call a ‘stasis’ period, basically unhappy as all get out but no longer looking up gun stores or researching various ways to kills herself (let me tell you, it’s hard as hell to do it properly. Just think, people near death still need an ugly fuck like Dr. Kevorkian to reach the next level. There’s something to chew on). She just felt jealous of terminal patients who were {this is a quote} almost on a paid Sandals vacation to Death.{end sort a quote} (I would not want to ‘steal’ such a brilliant four word sentence). She scanned the obituary column to see who had gotten lucky lately.

Hunh. That got me to thinking, since I put the Obits in my local paper for nearly two years. A very depressing job, and ridiculously bizarre ‘choice of job’ for a manic-depressive to hold, and for so long. It was my job and I didn’t have time to think these morbid-repressive thoughts this bitch came up with. No, I was too busy getting my butt chewed out by people who have no concept of “daily paper” and that neither I nor the paper is here to get Daddy’s rank or the family address to be PERFECT, although I surely F’n tried to every single stinkin’ day, although told NOT TO EVEN BOTHER on day ONE. Just as an aside, try considering reality when placing these ads, I don’t care that we actually charged for it! No obit is bringing your kid, parent, best friend back. And most people are so stupid whether in spelling or their English skills (whether writing something or reading something) that THEY WILL NEVER NOTICE OR CARE. And riding the butt of the low level, lowly payed individual that you talk to on the phone will NOT make you feel that much better and will earn you my undying hatred. I think people need to hear that. Cause I never got to tell them, if I did they’d lose an electron or pop something important, somewhere, and I was forced to still care.

So, blah blah someone responds about people she heard of or knew of that killed themselves. I guess because that is this person’s contact with mental illness. And ‘Why is it some people kill themselves and other’s keep trouping on’ or something the hell like that.

As if dumb bitch (Beliefnet writer. I hate it. I wish I could unsubscribe but they seem to have me screwed and send me all kinds of shit regardless, every time I try) would have any clue or balls to answer a question like that.

But I would! First of all, this is an easy designation: the one’s who killed themselves were either weak (mentally or physically) and gave up. The rest of us have some thought or something at some point, perhaps support from family and or friends, or intelligence that outlasts most, sometimes regardless of reason, and continue to hang on. Or we’ve got a bipolar gene and are lucky if we make it, and continue past, 30.

As distasteful as that first explanation is I’ll put forth that even the most intelligent, brilliant, incredible, possibly even moral individuals could kill themselves because they just don’t see, or want to see, that it’s worth holding on. They accept the lie and don’t realize that they are in fact throwing away something precious. Their mother, family, friend, can all see quite clearly that it was THROWN AWAY and that it’s a god damn travesty but that does Mr./Ms. Dead Person no good, now does it?

And I’ll tell you this. If we were to analyze Dead Person’s life we probably would see that not only could they have been helped (an effort on our part) but in the end this person ultimately chose to commit a final SELFISH act. As all readers know, Tart hates Selfish even in the dead. So maybe I’m a little bitter if not most of all heart-open honest. And that’s MUCH more than you can say about most people. And I had to deal with Death every day I went into that stupid part-time job. For $8.00 an hour. Does that seem compensatory? Nope. And certainly not for the screaming and abuse I put up with from one Mountcastle Funeral Home. I wouldn’t take even my dead mother there. Hah-hah, that’s Obituary column humor. Dead humor. Beat it with a dead-horse, Tart. :)

The Orchid Killer I Sleep With

We've been fixing up a room at the homestead, for exercise, big music, TV watching, AND guest room! So we've Ikea'd it up with wall unit for holding all that receiver,cd (multichanger), speaker stuff (read:Husband heaven). Then, cute lil unit for next to bed that I said if we get that, I get to get a flower again (since it will have a place to sit on). So at IKEA they have flowers, orchids, and I just love them so much! Well, last one I got, Kitty got in under a week. First he started with the flowers, one each day. You'd think I'd wise up to the outcome. No, end with all blooms gone, flower/plant chunked and dead. It's to my credit that despite my great sadness at what Kitty had done, he's still alive, we pet him everyday and love the Mean Orchid Killer. He cain't help himself. It's a sickness. We're fully aware.

So door to Exercise/Music/Flower haven must be shut after people leave, because of the gorgeous Siamese with monster fangs and a history of deflowering my orchids.

And it's such a pretty orchid, too. Maybe I'll take a pic, in the hopes that it will still be here in another month, or to mourn it's loss when taken from us, either way. Maybe I'll put up a pic of Fang-face someday. Maybe.