Saturday, December 20, 2014

My BOOK!! THE DRUMMER available on Amazon

Seriously doubt anyone ever comes here, ever, but whatevs. Here's a thing I've been up to: I wrote a book. I wrote it in about four months, ignored it for a year, took two more years to edit the fucking thing because editing is hard. Anyway. I'm alive and you should go buy my book because you know I'm superfantabulous, so my book is also!!

Thursday, September 19, 2013


Did you think I was dead?? I pretty much was.  That whole losing my Superfantabulousness really got to me.  I didn't think I had any feelings left, but losing that domain name ruined me.  (Did you see what the new owner has done with it?? Like what the fuck.  Speak English, douchebag.)

You've missed a lot of my life.  Poor you.

Last you checked, I was working at OrgaFoods.  It was a match made in heaven.  I made friends with all the little managers and got myself a shitload of free OrgaSwag.

Mostly I was after the produce guy.  Being a vegan means that I only rabbit food right?? Therefore I need lots of carrots.  Like, that's basically all we eat.

Anyway, even though he wasn't supposed to, he let me dig through the produce trash on the reg and I became an organic garbage food eater.

Also, I made a friend.  Don't die of shock. 

He was a fellow cashier.  He's fucking nuts.  Also gay, but mostly fucking nuts.  Like, if I think someone is nuts, they are seriously, seriously insane.  It was as love at first sight as it can get between a straight 37 year old married woman and a 26 year old gay man in an "it's complicated" sort of relationship.

We took our garbage eating to the next level and actually went out back and dug through the dumpster a time or two.  In fact, we befriended the dairy manager and he put all the expired cheeses in a nice little box for us to pick up once a week.  (I didn't take any cheese, duh, I was just along for the thrill of it).

Of course nothing can last.  It turned out the store manager was the kind of crazy that we couldn't abide.  She yelled at my BFF one day and he left for lunch and never came back.  I cried into my garbage salad.

Then she came after me.  Apparently, I'm not the slink away on a lunch break type.  I yelled and screamed and called her names and said everything everyone had been saying behind her back and stormed out.

I was sad.  I had just gotten benefits, I had made a friend.  I really missed my free garbage food.

Now, my lovelies.  Now that I have somewhat recovered from the horrible trauma of losing my Superfantabulous domain name, I need a new shinier one.  Think of one for me.  I'm still suffering from PTSD . . . And lazy.  (Mostly lazy.)

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Not So Superfantabulous

As you can see, the domain name for this blog is no longer quite as superfantabulous as it once was.  This is thanks to a nightmarish series of events that nearly left me in tears while talking to my 6th "Support Rep".

I literally said, "I'm going to cry."

I literally thought I might.  On the phone.  To a complete stranger.

Let me back up to explain how I ended up in this near-crying-on-the-phone-to-a-complete stranger situation.

I bought my domain name two years ago while I was in Korea after death threats were made against my family and I.  They were not made directly to me.  They were made to LousyKorea because I'm a scary bitch anyone who makes a death threat directly to me knows they're getting GANKED!!

JK.  I have no idea why they made them to her, but I've clearly been watching way to much Supernatural which is my new most favorite show EVER!!

Anyway.  I thought having the town from whence I come in my blog address might somehow lead them directly to the tiny town in Korea and my appartment and thus result in the gangking of my family and I.

I have a vivid imagination with a healthy dose of paranoia and disillusions of grandeur, like I'm worth going through all the detective work it would take to track me down and gank me?   (I am so worth it.)

So the domain name came up for renewal and in typical SuperFantabulous style, I ignored the notice.  And the next one.  And the one after that.

Finally, when it came down to the wire, I followed the link.  Clicked a few buttons and renewed.  Or so I thought.

Then came another notice: Your credit card is expired blah blah blah.

What else could I do but ignore it? And the next one, and the one after that.

Then I got still another notice!! See how important I am? All these notices??

This one said, "You took to long to fix your credit card, dumbass.  Your order has been cancelled."


I thought, "Well, I'll just follow a link, click a few buttons, and renew! No probs!" But no.   No, no, no, noooooooooooo.  What happened over the next few days was just one continual "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  The biggest longest "NO" ever in the history of 'Nos'

Oh how I have suffered.  Are the starving children in Africa crying for me?? I'm sure they are.

Turns out, when you buy your damn domain name through blogger, you're buying using google apps who bought it through godaddy and paying for it through googlewallet

Well, when you're a huge dumbass and don't take care of your shit in a timely manner, that nice, tight chain of command blows the fuck up and you're in the most complicated web of clusterfuck ever.

Suddenly, no one knows what anyone else is doing and yet, one entity isn't able to help you without information from all the other entities.

I started out by complaining to google wallet via an online incident report: "Waaaaaaaaaaaa!"

They were like, "Bitch, please. Go to google apps and help your own damn self."

So I tried.  Only I didn't have costumer numbers and emails at my domain name.  I was not that cool.  I complained again, this time via telephone.


"I'm sorry, we cannot help you because the domain is expired now.  I will send you an email telling you what to do."

The email said to go to godaddy and open my account and do proxy things and reset pin numbers and all kinds of other bullshit that I was physically and mentally not capable of.

I called godaddy, "Waaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The first guy was all like, "Bitch please.  I don't give a shit about your problems, I don't really want to help you.  I'll reset your password."


The second guy was much more into saving my life.  He said I could put my domain name on back order

I was like, "Yay!!" Finally, something simple to solve this unbelievable nightmare of frustration.

He went to superhuman lengths to get my domain name back to me only now it costs twice the regular price.

I was like, "I'm going to cry."

He was like, "That's the best I can do."

I was like, sure it's all my fault any of this happened.  If I'd just renewed in a timely manner, updated my credit card, been a responsible human being none of this would have happened.  Now I've wasted hours of my own time, hours of customer support people's time, I deserve to be charged twice as much.  It's a fitting punishment.  And I've been on the phone with this guy for half an hour and he went to so much trouble!!

So I said, "No thanks."

Whatevs.  This blog has 37 followers.  Like anyone gives a shit.  I don't give a shit.  (I TOTALLY GIVE A SHIT!!) I can live with my lame blogspot address (THIS WHOLE POST IS BASICALLY A SUICIDE NOTE!!)  I need to move on with my life (I PROBABLY WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS AND WILL DIE REGRETTING THE LOSS OF MY BLOG DOMAIN NAME!!)

The End.

Friday, February 15, 2013

46 hrs

This is basically like 127 hours, only it happened to me and therefore it's so much worse.

In the midst of escaping from FancyJeans, I unexpectedly got a job interview at OrganaFoods. 

At least I thought it was an interview.  The store manager was REALLY short staffed and practically begged me to start pretty much on the spot

I was hesitant.  The shifts were eight hours.  I don't know about you, but that seems like way too many hours to me.

She tried to entice me, "You get healthcare, paid days off, bonus birthday pay, a grocery store discount..."

I was like, "Whatever."

She was like, "..."

I was like, "Do I get breaks?"

"...Umm.....You get a ten after two hours, a 30 min after four and another ten after six."

I was like, "YEAHHHHH!!"

I told FancyJeans to take me off the schedule, effective immediately.

FancyJeans did not take me off the schedule, effective immediately.

At OrganaFoods I had to work 30 hours to get all the wondrous benefits.

At FancyJeans they wanted me to work 16 hours

All this resulted in the most harrowing two weeks of my life.

I worked 46 hours in one week and didn't get a day off in two.

Even the starving children in Africa felt sorry for me.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Breaking Bad

So I got a newish job.  Same company, just the one that isn't all about fat people in capris.  They're about fat people in fancy jeans and sometimes fancy capris.

Now given that I HATED working at Fucking Capris some of us thought I might need a change (forgetting for a moment that I hate pretty much everything and change only means exposing me to new things to hate)

We moved to a new part of CrazyHellTown this year for shiny, not dumb people schools.  We live less than a mile from a Fucking Capris.  I tried to work there.  In the middle of everything the store manager got fired.  They totally forgot about me.  Never actually got hired.  Kind of gave up.  Figured it was a sign that I'm not capable of making decisions for myself.

I turned to the closest approximation of an adult in my family:

"Teen." I said, "What should I do?"

"Maybe work at Fancy Jeans instead."

So that's what I did.

However, the Fancy Jeans that is nearest us is run by a nice guy who likes to surround himself with high-strung, crazy women.  EVERY SINGLE MANAGER there is a woman who fucking insane! It's like a job requirement or something.  It was like mean girls.  I realized too late.

They didn't like my messy hair.  They didn't like my "Non-Current" Fancy Jeans attire (because I wait till the overpriced crap goes on sale before I buy it).  

Really though.  Who cares about all that.  I'm not in high school anymore.  Nobody's going to bully me into buying full price FancyJeans clothes that I'll only wear to work and in my life, hair brushing will always remain optional.

But then shit got real:

Someone along the line decided that breaks should be at "the manager's discretion." As in, I should be able to work a four or five hour shift without a break. 

I assessed the situation:

A. I was getting lots of hours at this Fancy Jeans.

B. I was making lots of money.

C. It would be awkward for me to ask for a transfer back to Fucking Capris because I don't get a ten minute break during my four hour shift.

D. Nobody else seems to think any of this is any reason to complain.

E. Nobody wants any trouble.

F. Adults who cannot make decisions for themselves should not start trouble.

Given all of the above, what choice did I have but to complain constantly, demand breaks, tell everyone who worked there that they would be treated better at Fucking Capris and encourage them to leave, argue with managers about said breaks and eventually ask for a transfer back to Fucking Capris?

But in the chaos, I discoverd Sky Fereirra, so it was all worth it

Saturday, January 12, 2013

I have a life

And it totally sucks.  Whoever wants one of those is completely dilusional.  These past few years in Texas have been bullshit.  Mostly because I have a job and they actually require me to come in and work.  Frequently.  Also because Awesomecool has a job and I have no one to entertain me while I'm not working.  Sad.  We're grownups and it's lame.

Living in America is dumb and boring.  When you go to work they expect you to work, like, the whole time!! What the fuck kind of mentality is that?? Give me a break.  Literally.  Maybe like five during a five hour shift and work will be tolerable

I should also announce that I'm no longer working at Fucking Capris (I evolved to the 'fancier' version of the same damn company) which is good because I'm kind of over saying the word 'fucking' all the time.  Except in real life,  as in, actually speaking.  When words come out of my mouth, fuck still happens all the time.  The point is I rarely say it on FaceBook, Instagram or Twitter.  I'm such a grownup now.

Speaking of Twitter, did I tell you my twitter story? It's pretty boring except that I started one a few years ago and it maxed out at 50 followers.  That was fucking embarrassing.  So I deleted my twitter.  Then I started another one using MY REAL NAME!! If you know my name you can find me.  Anyway, this story ends with me having 1060 followers.  And me being amazing.  As always.

Also of note, my future ex-husband, BlackChild has started blogging again!! That is the entire reason why I'm even here.  I kind of forgot about this lame blog of only 37 followers until I stumbled upon a whole week and a half's worth of blackchild's new posts.  I'm as happy as a person who is not capable of hapiness can be.  Yay. 

Monday, December 3, 2012


I do not do well with pets.  I don't do well with plants.  I don't do well with my own children.

Something about having to meet the needs of someone or something other than myself just does not work for me at all.


Sometimes I feel a longing.  A longing for companionship. 
I cannot get what I need from people.


Because people generally don't respond well to people who hate them.  They kinda sense those sorts of things and annoyingly start to hate you back.  And unfortunately I have not thusfar been successful in becoming some kind of evil overlord with idiot minions who are required to pretend they love everything about me all the time (You know, like a Kardashian.  SNAP!)

Also I cannot get what I need from normal pets.  Like dogs.  I hate dogs.  I find everything about them annoying and/or disgusting.  I can't stand the way they stupidly bark at everything.  I can't stand that they want my food. I can't stand that their hair is on EVERY FUCKING THING!  I can't stand the bodily functions and/or fluids.

I'm allergic to cats.

I have a bird, but he hates me and I abandoned him like some kind of asshole.

However, even someone like me needs to be LOVED!  

Enter these little bastards:

I am trying with every fiber of my being to resist.  I know my real brain would hate having to feed, dress up in a bee costume, and clean up after the stupid thing once I got it, BUT OMG! THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!

Someone hit me in the head with a hammer.  I'm about to make a terrible, horrifying mistake.