The ComentsAnd Rules for My Blog

Dear Readers,
I”m afraid I’ll have to put some rules on my blog. These will ensure that I, the writer, am not put in some sort of danger and for the safety of those readers who want to read this blog but don’t know how to respond to it sometime.
1. Please keep comments short, sweet, nice, supportive, and to the point. Someone wrote a nasty comment saying I have to keep my distance from her daughter IN A PARENTAL demeanor mind you, and that demeanor is not allowed on my blog.
2. Please feel free to ask questions.
\3. Do not trash me or hate me. IF you feel like doing that or threatening my life and livelihood, do not comment at all.
4. Let’s have stimulating arguments. Like, for instance, should someone who is a “veg” be allowed to die without a living will? That’s a hot topic. Or what about abortion? We can talk about that too, as long as we’re all nice and polite about it, but the argument has to stimulate thought.
5. No parental directives on my blog. Again, this is aimed at people who think I am their daughter. Excuse me, but even if you are my mom or dad, do not write parental directives like, “You’re not going here or there”, “No this” or “No that.” We don’t write stuff like that on my blog. Even as a joke, none of that will be accepted as a comment on my blog.
6. If you’re following me with your email, please feel free to write a wordPress of your own. Let’s talk and have a nice argument or two, but the rest of my rules are common sense. Don’t post if you know it’s gonna hurt me. Follow these rules and you’ll be fine. Oh, and one more thing, any exes, like ex-boyfriends who want to put bad stuff on my blog, do not even read this darn thing. It’s not for you to read. Sorry, J.O. You’re not welcome to read my blog. If you continue stalking me and reading my blog, I’m afraid I’ll have something or two to say. Ok, I’ll say in another post why I don’t like this guy. Maybe I should say it now.

I filed a police report on my ex, and they said if he harasses me, which he could have done and I’m looking at my email constantly to see if any weird stuff comes up, I’m going to report that. Honestly, I need more support than this. I don’t need parental comments on my blog. What I need is a friend. This goes to show that H., another girl who’s isolated and probably never will see me at all, needs a friend. H.’s mom commented on the blog and said something pretty stupid mind you. What I need, C., (the commenter on my blog), is for you to realize that H. needs a friend. She needs good friends, friends who won’t betray her and call her names and stuff, like J.O. It’s pretty sad when I have to be dumped on in this blog and he isn’t. Why is HE being praised for bullying people? Why is HE still lurking about, looking for more “fresh meat”, as my bf Blake would put it? I don’t want stalkers and stuff on my friend circle. I need good friends and a boyfriend, who will eventually become my husband and friend for life. Blake is my partner, and we are not getting involved in this gossip about me. You can say any darn thing you want about me, but it won’t work. Try me. Call me the N word. Dare I say it? No. Call me the F word? Dare I say it? Failure. But I must say that there is no way you or anyone else on this blog post is going to pull this on me again. Blake is a sweet guy, and he and I think it would be best for H. to live in a home out west, a group home with support, twenty-four-hour home care with nurses and people who actually care about her. Medications would be dispensed. She’d have friends to talk to, musical time, therapy, stuff like that. I”m not suggesting a home for old folks. IF there is such a home, I’d find it anywhere but rural Georgia. Massachusetts has a good set of those. I have a Spina Bifida friend who lives there. Well, a friend who has spina bifida, J.G. She lives in a group home but it’s a good home. She has friends, nurses, people to attend her. IF H. lived with me, then I’d make sure she had long-term care, a watchful caregiver who could provide a personal assistance thing for her. I’d make sure she doesn’t wander off, whatever the case, I wouldn’t let anything happen. I’d have to make sure that since J.O. is in sight of her state, I’d say, “She’s moving to Colorado, so go away.” He knows I’ve got the law on MY side. I’d give H. rides to her appointments, attend her at all times if possible, I’m not kidding. We’d hire her a caregiver, Blake and me. I’d see to it that bars and rails go all over the bathroom, etc. Are you kidding? I’d do it all. I’d also save a lot of big Benjamins on group homes if I could. I don’t like group homes, except J.’s. J.G.’s home is good. They do have regs and rules and such, but they allowed her to marry a disabled man or something. B.W., that’s his name. He’s sweet, doesn’t mess around. J.G. and I have a lot of talks on Skype and such, and she is awesome. Her man, who I got to meet, is amazing. They had a honeymoon and she can leave and come back to her home at all if not any time she wants. Jenny Hatch, unfortunately, was isolated from friends and church because of the guardians and her group home. Jenny said, “No.” Isn’t that a powerful word? Well, Jenny said no to group homes, guardianship, and supervision. Face it, I cook too many things on my own. I’ve done a meal for sixty or more people. Is that enough to prove that yes, I can? Well, it should be.
I am done. Rant over.

Analysis of a Wicked Comment

Dear Readers,
It is nice to get comments, but there is a comment I had to trash. A comment from one C.W., I won’t name her. This woman claims that my behavior is unacceptable and I must keep a distance from her daughter. Well, C.W., I’m sorry, I can’t tell you how mortified I was to find that comment. I have a problem with the way you worded it, and J.W., your daughter, is not someone that I can mess with, I realize that, but she needs friends and support. My parents have prevented me from seeing various people, and the Bully post was supposed to say surprise surprise, northern Georgia is a bully haven. Why? Because of People such as J.D.O. Sorry, I can’t say it anymore. I”m not doing anything bad just by talking to Jennifer. I live in Colorado, so you will not, cannot, and should not think that jail time is good for me. It’s not. Women’s prison is wrongly distorted. There’s a lot worse issues to think about, such as someone killing someone else. Oh, and Joseph Coney needs jail, and why? Because he started the LRA. What is the LRA? The Lord’s Resistance Army, an African resistance group that specializes in enslaving girls for sex, making boys fight like men, and so on. I am not Joseph Coney, or Joseph Duncan, a sex offender who blogged about sex offenses. So Mrs. C.W., please refrain from commenting on my blog unless you are saying something nice. Isn’t it wonderful that I, and only I get to moderate the comments? Yep. That’s right. I have the power now, and I moderated the comment so that no one can read it. It is not something I want anyone to read. Let me analyze this comment so that the world can see that this is totally ridiculous.
As I was writing a piece on bullying, the comment went like this: “This is Jennifer’s parents you’re dealing with. Keep your distance from Jennifer. Your behavior is unacceptable.” What? What have I done! I know I wrote a name in there, but for the sake of the comment’s brevity, I did it. I”m not writing hate mail, and J.W. does not need to be given any more attention in my blog. So, C., do not read my blog. This comment, according to my analysis, is trash. It’s not going on the blog bulletin. I”m not putting such comments up. If you want to email me personally and let me tell you how much parents with disabled children sometimes make me sick, and it’s not something to kill over, then fine. Let me tell you what my parents have tried to do:
1. They tried to bully me into staying at home.
2. They said I’d be in jail if I were “Baker Acted”, which means to be put in psych ward for two days or so.
3. They prevented me from seeing other people. They did not allow me to have a boyfriend even in high school. So why J.O. and J.W. get to date I don’t know why. But Blake Tucker and I are really close. He’s a much better man than any man I’ve ever met, and if I had gone back down to Florida where my family lives, they’d just lock me up and not let me go back in time to get rent and stuff done. What will I do!
Here’s my final conclusion. Any comments from people saying that my behavior is unacceptable will be trashed!
AS for the rest of you people who are reading my blog, I am sorry you didn’t get to see it, but I had to write about it because this will help the rest of the WordPress community understand my position on such comments.

Hamas executes 18 ‘spies’ – 7 of them in busy public square

Hammas is sick. Let’s corral them in a room and give them heavy medication, castrate them so they can’t rape, and tell them that what they’ve done is wrong. But more importantly, we can’t let them chop off heads and arms and such on the street! In front of innocent children! This post says it all.

What Happened This Week … And It’s Not acceptable

Dear Diary,
This week’s been tough on all of us. Including the removal of Jason Bratcher from Skype. He doesn’t want to talk to us, and it’s because someone, somebody stupid fooled him into thinking that I boss Blake about. I don’t order him to do this or do that, but it would be nice if Blake would
1. Please be more assertive and be manly in his assertions, that is, he needs to leave Mommy alone in the house and not … for one, not do anything for her.,
2. Keep the remote out of the freezer. YEs, Cathy put the remote in the freakin’ freezer! In the freezer, you ask? Yes, I’m not kidding.
3. Leave Arizona despite what Cathy says about me. I’m not posseessive, and for God’s sake there’s something wrong with Blake not being with me. My therapist says it’s not a viable relationship if Blake has to stay with Mommy and Daddy and not come to me at all. It’s not valid if … whatever. I wnt to end the crisis because obviously, I’ve been getting sick repeatedly, and I think it’s a psychosematic symptom or two that needs to be kept in check. It’s honestly making me sick to think that Cathy could be sowing unacceptable seeds in the soil where Blake trods daily. It’s ridiculous that Blake, above other things, is not being a man. I want a man, not a boy. I want a man who will fulfill my needs to be a woman and be treated equally. Blake does do all but come to me. All the needs are met, but only temporary needs are met. Maybe I should say something, we should say that my therapist says I need someone who can fulfill my needs. Blake can’t do that if he’s being bound up with Cathy all the time, and she asks him to do stuff. This is ok if she’s aging, elderly. But not now. Even if there is a tragedy, this isn’t acceptable. Also, Blake and I had to confront the gossip head on, and we’re staying together because the gossipping that people are doing, telling Jason that I boss Blake about, is wrong. Blake is happy in a relationship with me, but if Cathy doesn’t follow through with this trip she plans to take Blake on, she will get a talk with me on Skype. That means, no one is allowed in the skype call. I’ll turn on my camera so that Cathy can see me. I’ll tell her everything. About the psychotic symptoms and throwing up constantly, the diarrhea in the toilet that happened just this morning, etc. I don’t need to be sick anymore. This relationship is happy, but not being allowed to see Blake is frustrating and a health risk. I could perhaps develop cancers and stuff because of the poisons I have to take to deal with mental health issues. Let’s just say that I want to end the crisis by saying, “Blake belongs to me. I want rights over Blake as a wife, a companion, and a partner.” Even Muslim wives have rights, for God’s sake. ISIS doesn’t think so. They’re a load of garbage, of course. I’d like to see them all die in shock … haha … doesn’t the entire U.S. want to see Isis all in their throws of death, shocked bec ause they can’t feel their bodies? I’d like to see that. SErves them right for making young girls marry them. Guys like them are good for nothing but eating, fighting, and sex. Girls are better than guys in that respect. We women are more complex. I think ISIS really needs to be overthrown by the Unitd States, and this whole Islamic State is going to face a huge backlog in “I want my sex organs back.” Ha ha. They won’t get back the ability to do it. These guys should be corralled in a building, given chemical castration since they raped girls, given heavy meds so they are all knocked out. Then, we’ll brainwash the bastards into thinking that Muslims are bad. Easy, but not as easy as one thinks.
Ok, I’ve gotten myself into a pool of words, but guys like these are gona make it harder for me to think women have rights. And women should have rights. Cathy doesn’t see that I as a mental patient should have the rights to her son. But face it, I want rights to marry Blake, and I will do that. Blake will come back. If he doesn’t come back by the time I turn thirty-five, Cathy will have to pay me for the entire wedding. That’s right, even my dress and Blake’s suit and tie and all that. Well, we won’t wear suits and tuxes because I don’t want a formal event so to speak. I think we should lay it back some because of expenses. Bethany would be a great maid of honor, only if she doesn’t try to convince Blake to live with strange men who will ultimately tell Blake to “be a man” and “rape a drunken woman.” Blake doesn’t have to do those manly things, but he needs blind men around him who can provide some support. But not sighted roommates who can’t do stuff and won’t do anything but sit around, sweat, and have sex with girls who are at bars. Men don’t always cooki, and relying on Blake as a servant will ultimately get him back with me. I’ll take care of Blake, and besides, he has to take care of me in sickness and in health, etc. etc. Ok, and in the face of ISIS, we will be married so that no one can tell me who to be with. This is why I left Islam in the first place. I’m former of the Islamic religion, so there. Anyway, while Blake is currently at the psychiatrist appointment, which has nothing to do with him, I’m going to read books. Yes, read. I’m going to read the books I already have. Anyway, I’ll post further as the psych test is done. I started it, and it needs to be finished soon. When it is, it seems like I will function badly, and won’t cook this or clean that. But5 I’m too smart for this damn guardianship. So pra that the test goes the way God wills it.

My Robi Williams Memories

Dear Diary,
Rest in peace, Robin Williams. It was weird hearing about him dying and all. But I remember him as the voice of the Genie in Aladdin. That story was taken from the Tounsand and One Nights, the Arabian fairy tales told by Sheherazade, the princess who was to be executed. But entertaining a king with fairy tales seemed to have done her good.
But back to Williams’ death. Suicide is highest among artists, creative people, actors, musicians, etc. Robin Williams also played Mr. Kegan in Dead Poet Society, which I got to watch in seventh grade. I so want to put on Williams’ gravestone: “Oh Captain My Captain.” Mrs. Miller stood on her desk, and someone gave her a keychain that said so. Oh captain my captain. My class loved it. We watched Dead Poets’ Society with awesome wonder. It was wonderful. But there’s something I did not know about Mr. Williams. He did stand up comedy. He was an actor and comedian? Well, he played someone in Robots too. I’ll never forget, however, his role in Aladdin. It was awesome. It was too awesome, and Disney must’ve been good for that role. He had a lot of jokes. HE died in his sixties. We lost a lot of good people this year. I remember Katarine Hepburn’s death too. Lots of good people died. Now, this whole thing of Robin Williams dying gets me asking, “What will happen if Justin Bieber experienced the same thing?” Or should I ask, “What will happen if Miley Cyrus experienced the same death?” Would people have as muchy reverence as they do for Mr. Williams? I don’t know why. I think Canada would throw a party to celebrate the end of Justin Bieber, of course. That guy doesn’t know how to sing. One less lonely boy to worry about in my opinion. “One less lonely girl … one less lonely girl.” … Ewwwwww. Justin can’t sing, and his music was awful. I might play Bieber on a Teenage Pop themed Denver Delights show, but still, I don’t like Bieber. I wish they’d banned Chris Brown on all radio stations. What he did to Rihanna was plain abuse. I survived the same abuse, but jason did not think for once what impact that abuse had for me for years to come. Blake saved my life, and … ok, I’m a bit off topic. But people like Chris Brown and Justin Bieber should be banned from radio, period.
As for Robin Williams’ suicide success, we need to do more for suicide prevention. What if a famous actor called a suicide prevention hotline? What will we do? Should we allow doctors to take advantage of such people? Michael Jackson was taken advantage of by Conrad Murray. Why was Conrad Murray not held responsible for Michael’s death? What if I was the next victim of a Dr. Conrad Murray? What if I became famous, then died as a result of a bad dose of blood or medicine? We need to do more for the lost, the lonely, the sick, the ones who could possibly become suicidal?
Anyway, that’s all I gotta say.

Ok, My Needs Revealed

HEre I am, sitting here, bad taste in my mouth AGAIN! WHat in the world has happened to me! I am stressing out to the point of being sick, so here’s what I think is causing it. A stomach virus keeps popping into my stomach and causing me to barf into the toilet or have to do so. I tried taking pepto bismol, but to no avail. I had to throw my guts out, and it was awful. Blake had to leave to watch a football game, and he never came back that night. I thought he would, but still, football is a favorite sport of his. Honestly, I’m proud that I’m doing fantasy football with Blake in his NFL managed league. What’s weird is I just found out my cousin Robert is doing a fantasy football league and I hope it’s on NFL dot com. Robert is awesome. He’s a Broncos fan. Well, yeah, so am I. They beat the Seahawks, a well deserved beating they got after they beat us in the Super Bowl, so let’s beat them again, … and again … and again! The Broncos were not playing like ponies, colts. They played like … well, broncos. The funny thing is that there’s a team in Indiana called the Colts, which is synonymous with a baby horse. A male to be exact is termed a colt. and a female babe is a fillie. I use such terms as technical.
Well, honestly, I am so stressed about not ever seeing Blake again. I wish Miss Cathy would listen, not just barrel into herself and feel bad for herself for losing the other boy. I’m sorry that the other man in her life left, and I’m sorry his girlfriend committed such a horrific act. It doesn’t make sense that someone would do that. Chad should’ve been a gifted young man with more potential, but then again, musicians are the ones with the highest rate of substance abuse, early death, mental illness, bipolar and so on. Musicians and artists are the ones to be labeled “crazy” to be frank. Here are the things I’d like from Blake and his dear mother:
1. I want physical contact with Blake, regardless of how one feels about me. I’m not one to harm Blake in any way. I’ve never committed a crime, but when you, Cathy, make it impossible for me and Blake to have physical contact, it makes me feel like our relatoinship is worthless and unattainable. I need to see Blake so bad, and I’ve been prevented from having physical and direct contact with other guys before due to people’s misconceptions about blindness and disability. Jason Lawrence, a guy in my high school, is a classic example. I was only a teenager, and I was offended by Jason’s nonchalant way of dealing with me, and worst of all, one of his friends was not a good person in the situation. I won’t name him, except by his initials: C.N. C.N. did not like me for some strange reason, and called me a “bitch.” My time in high school could’ve been worse had Mr. Lawrence not shown me a way to overdo things: smack C.N. in the head with a mallet while he was hiding under one of the timpani covers. That served him right, but Jason still did not want to associate with me. The same went for O.H. I’m not naming him here because I don’t know who’s reading the blog. It was prevention from having a relationship with a guy that ultimately landed me in “psych ward.” Sorry, I hate to reveal this stuff, but it serves the purpose of telling Cathy that preventing me from seeing Blake is ultimately going to stress the hell out of me.
2. I aspire to marry and have a life with Blake away from Cathy and out of her nest. Yes, Cathy, I know Blake needs you, and I know you need him, but you can’t sleep with him. You guys are too old and developed to co-sleep. It’s weird to do that. Adult sons don’t sleep with their moms, and that’s just way Freudian for me to think about. So watch that please, and realize that I want what’s best for all of us.
3. What would happen if I didn’t get what I wanted? I would have to find an alternate solution, find another guy. I’ve tried to do this on dating personals sites, and that was before Grace Community Church, but I don’t want a guy who doesn’t understand about blindness or doesn’t have a predisposition for a positive view of blindness and compounded with the mental stuff, it really makes me upset when I can’t see someone. Perhaps this kind of stress is making me sick, and it can’t be the food at all. I hate throwing up, having fevers, other symptomatic things that run the gamut betwee something light and minor like a stomach flu to something more serious like … um, a bacterial infection that keeps coming back. I had one of those in 2007. A throat infection that landed me a cough was detected by a doctor in my old hometown. It’s important to know that the doc got it, and then he prescribed antibiotics. If I can’t have Blake, Lord knows what infections might plague me as a result of me not being able to have a fulfilled and happy life with someone I desire, with someone that can voice a positive view of blindness, someone who won’t abuse my kids and ultimately make me miss them more. What if my husband was antihomosexual so much so that he’d kill his trans son? What if he actually did kill my gay son? I’d h ave to file for divorce, not fall for the brainwashing, and take the bad boy to court. Blake is not a homophobe in any sort of way, though it is not biblical to be in a gay relationship. Blake would not take life because life isn’t natural to him or anything, therefore he’s a candidate, probably the only one. Please look over this and think on it.
P.S. My stomach feels weird, so I better hop in bed again.

Letter to My Would Be Mom In Law

Dear Miss Cathy,
Hi. It’s Beth. Yes, it’s Beth, who else would be writing you this letter? I want to tell you that Blake and I are doing just fine, but there are a few things I’m worried about. I have heard you say things like that I am possessive if Blake, which isn’t true, and that I’m a sick and dangerous person, which I’m not either. I have some myths and facts about mental health issues to share, and I need to share these things on account of what I heard Blake say you said about me. I”m trying to lay out the facts. So here goes:
1. Someone with mental illness is just as likely to commit a crime as anyone else, but the ones you see in the headlines like James Holmes are sick and dangerous guys who get off their meds. He’s now on trial for multiple murder counts in Aurora.
2. Mentally ill people who are properly diagnosed and treated have less of a chance of going to jail or being hospitalized for anything. That’s surprising. One dollar spent on mental health treatment, behavioral health stuff like counseling and such, is $7 less a taxpayer is paying to put the guy in prison.
3. Not all mentally ill people are sex offenders. I’m not, at least.
4. Mental illness is more common than diabetes and heart disease. More than two thirds of America’s citizenry are mentally ill or on something. Just ask your friends, “What are you doing today?” At some point, they may bring up some OTC medication they’re on, a prescription they’re on, etc. Hey, my dad takes a heartburn med too, and I heard that a lot of other people do. We Americans are pretty sad. That’s a fact. A lot of us are depressed, and half the problem is fitness, but sometimes the chemical imbalance in the brain is not helped a lot by trauma.
What I’m really asking is that I be included in the family. I want a more inclusive family unit where everyone can talk to everyone else, no matter what the problem is, without being judged for being obsessive or ill in any way. My family would never let anyone talk to me because of obsessions they deemed inappropriate and the worst thing is that they thought I was in obsession when I was in love. They were clearly not comfortable with my desires, not comfortable with a normal daughter. They wanted the cute, sweet, cuddly little pet dog instead of a daughter. My parents did not want me dating or having a relationship with anyone, and yet they claim they want me to have a man who treats me right. What is the definition of “treat me right?” Give me stuff, according to Dad. “Where’s the ring?” people ask as they peruse my Facebook, wondering where Blake’s engagement ring for me is? I have to embarrassingly say, in one way or another, “We can’t afford the rings.” what is that? Blake can’t afford the ring because he doesn’t see his check. HE never sees it, and that’s another need. I want a man who can buy me an engagement ring, but I don’t want to push Blake to do it now. Blake should have needs too. He should be able to save up some money in a bank, not have to use it for any “necessities”, and be able to purchase a pearl engagement ring for me. No diamonds allowed, and that’s because the diamond is overrated and is some frenemy of mine’s birthstone. Don’t ask me further, please.
I really want a family who won’t do injustice to my talents, won’t make me look savant, won’t expect me to perform for them like a show dog. I’m not one of my friend’s dogs, and she has lots of them all about. The dogs run about the yard, act like … dogs, no less. You have dogs, right? So you play with them, right? I’d play with mine if I had any. Blake thinks he’s a dog. Ha ha. I don’t know about that, but Blake is just as playful as any dog, but he’s not a dog. A question that comes between us is, “What are you barking about?” I always say, “Nothing, what are you barking about?” Blake is the sweetest thing in the world, but I’m not his property. The way my dad defines dating relationships is that the man buys a girl food, flowers, and a ring. Well, again, I say this, let Blake save money and buy the ring. I won’t expect any more from him except for the ring, but I want some form of physical contact. If we don’t have physical contact, where’s the “relationship?” Mental illness should not dictate what happens between me and Blake.
My needs don’t exactly require a ring. I don’t think the wedding will happen in a church, but I want you to support the marriage because Blake is a grown man and can make his own decisions. I know that scares you, but it scared my parents enough for them to take rights away from me. I’m not gonna tolerate such bull from them. I don’t tolerate any bullcrap from anyone at this point. Blake is sweet enough not to do that either.
Lastly, I want you to define the dating relationship. Yes, Blake and I are dating, in this way. Marriage is love. Christ is love. God is love, and all who live in love live in God. You might think me nuts to write this, but Christ is love. Blake loves Christ, and that’s why we’re together. I prayed on this letter, and there it is. I prayed on writing this letter to you, and hope that you are going to be ok.
I realize you’re a busy woman, and it helps with some of the mental stuff you yourself are going through. I realize Chad was murdered, and I wish I could have stopped it. If I could, I’d wring Heather by the neck and hang her on the laundry line for good. Either that or me and Chad should’ve thrown the girl out the window. I could call her worse, but alas, I don’t wanna write something like this in a blog. Heather murdered your son because she was not properly diagnosed and treated. Boy, wish we humans had a diagnostic tool inside our heads that allowed us to diagnose mental problems before they got started. Alas, however, Heather did not. Yes, she seemed nice, but I’m sorry to say that if she’d been to counseling, and … uh, substance abuse issues, and rehab, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I am lucky that I have professional help, but right now, I have no period which is unusual for a 28-year-old woman to have. Maybe it could’ve been psychological from my ex being stupid and saying mean stuff about me and “period blood.” Mr. “O. oughta be ground into hot dog meat for that one, and if he doesn’t stop starting bullcrap and stirring acid soup, don’t worry. He’ll be investigated by a police department and found guilty of a crime he did indeed commit. Cathy, I empathize with you. So let me ask: Why don’t you empathize with me? You yourself have PTSD and depression, and you have hard sleepless nights wondering what could I have done! I realize all this, and it’s all gonna be ok. Look, if you want to look at me for a second, do so. I’m not sick and dangerous. I’m not possessive. I don’t define relationships with material shit. Like rings, bracelets, dresses, or even the wedding of the century. It’s all a matter of time before Blake and I have to pack our stuff and get married somewhere, whether in Arizona or Colorado, and it won’t be soon, but it must be sooner rather than later when I’m forty, unable to carry, and so on. Cathy, you’re lucky you have a son. You’re so lucky you have Joe. And Joe is lucky he has you. AT least the two of you sleep in the same bed. Do you know how many times I wished Blake were in my bed? Lots of times. I slept with the wrong men, and now, I’m regretting it. My ex calls me evil and says I associate with guys who have STD’s. Jason Owens said my ex, Deq, had STD’s. That’s not true at all. Deq is perfectly fine, except for blindness. Deq is fine. And he and Blake and I are still talking whether by Skype or other means. Miss Cathy, I want you to see that I am a kind person, and that I am NOT sick or dangerous. I need to see Blake. I’ve missed him enough. Just think this over, ok? Don’t worry, everything will be ok.

Scotland – A Video, A call to Arms! This is our time, we must take it

I”m fiercely proud to be a Scotts-Irish girl, but let’s face it. What the Scotts went through with the English was absolutely horrendous. Rape, torture, murder, etc. Prima What? Excuse me, Ed the Long Shanks, you’re dead, long dead. So what else has the English done with the Scotts? Let’s see if we can get the Scotts their independence. 🙂

Let Me Set the Record Straight

Dear Diary,
Let me set the record straight: Blake and I ARE NOT BREAKING UP! We’re going to be married, and I was never the one to force jason to marry. If I did, let it be a sign that men are dumber than women. The age old battle about men versus women is obvious: women rule. I don’t care what you guys think, but ladies are smarter. We have more complex bodies, therefore we are smarter. We have wombs and stuff, and what do you guys have? Yeah, as Blake would say, a d*** and balls. Otherwise, a dick and balls. I am so happy I’m a girl. I know the problems of this world always revolve around girls. Yeah, we’re sold like the cows in the field, for cows nonetheless. Blake would never do this. But men’s brains aren’t as complex as ours, but that doesn’t mean they’re stupid. Men think we’re dumb, that our place is in bed or in the kitchen, but hey, that’s wrong. Blakc women are awesome. So there you go. Also, the petition is gone. Gone gone gone. And Jason took Carol away from me. This is obviously stupid. I”m not associating with someone who bears false witness against me. Blake and I are just gonna settle down to some fantasy football. Yes, my fantasy football is awesome.

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