humor from the bowels of darkness

I’ve been suffering some major writer’s block…I suppose that’s the correct term for it. I think about writing something but then I decide that it’s just the same thing, rehashed.

I miss my mom.

I hate asshat.

I feel like a turd sandwich.

I’m anxious again and sad.

Those are my themes, my issues, my major problems. And we all have those, don’t we?

Like, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

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Is funny, no? 

Being funny nowadays isn’t impossible for me in real life although it’s still hard work.

But how can I explain the pizza dance that I did the other night to crack my daughter up? I kept it going, adding more crazy moves (that my fibro body would allow) until she finally threatened to start taking a video of me.

I stopped, of course.

How do I tell you about how my boyfriend laughs just by the way I say something?

“It’s not what you said, it’s the way you say it!”

I’ve always relied on my sense of humor for survival, to make friends, to get through tough times, to relieve the pressure in a stuffy room, to make myself feel special. I think we all like it when someone tells us that we have a knack for something and from the earliest memories that I can recall, mine was being humorous.

My favorite thing in the entire world was making my mom laugh.

Although I have finally retrieved most of my humor from the bowels of darkness, applying it here on my blog is proving to be a challenge. It makes me question whether or not I’ve begun the slow, downward spiral of blog abandonment.

Honestly, what’s going on in the world right now isn’t fucking funny and it’s breaking me down, bit by bit, on a daily basis.

How can it not?

Plus, next month is May. It used to be that I only hated August.

It’ll be my first Mother’s Day without my mom and then a week later, May 20th will mark 1 year since she passed away.

I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I’ve heard her voice, seen her, touched her. This grief is unlike anything that I’ve ever experienced before. My mom was special, she was my best friend and damn it, my life will never be the same. Accepting that is the hardest part, I think.

I never thought that I’d find my path again but somehow, I have. It’s a much more lonely one without her and oftentimes confusing.

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that I bought a ticket for an online reading last Friday night from a popular medium named Matt Fraser. All week, I seriously expected to be chosen for a reading, I just knew that my mom would come through with a message for me.

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Thankfully, I don’t.

Well, she didn’t. In fact, there was zero chance of that happening since over 700 people were included on the Zoom panel. The 90 minutes went quickly and by the end, I was extremely disappointed and felt like an asshole for wasting the money.

No offense to Mr. Fraser but he’s doing another online reading this Friday and urging all of the people to buy another ticket. In the end, it’s all about making money, quarantine or not.

So instead, I pray. I talk to my mom (and dad) directly. I’ve found my faith again and now without asshat blocking my path, I can openly display my religious artwork and speak of Jesus in my own home without ridicule.

Did I ever tell you guys that he was a guitarist for a black death metal band?

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My mom watched Judge Judy every day.

Yeah, I sure picked a good one, didn’t I? He’d always claimed that it didn’t have anything to do with who he really was but like almost everything that came out of his fat mouth, it was a lie. Over the years, he got some Satanic tattoos and had an upside-down cross on one of his amps.

I shudder now when I think of all of the things that I allowed.

Well, this post has been all over the place but hey, it’s something.

Stay safe and stay well.

Also, Happy belated Easter.

I’ve No More F***s To Give!

I just came across this hilarious video and it made me laugh my ass off. I seriously haven’t cracked up this hard in ages!

Something that I really needed right now and maybe you do too.

If you don’t mind the “f” word, that is. (Fair warning.)

But if you know we well enough, then you know that it’s one of my most favorite words ever.


I’ve No More F***s To Give! by Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq. 2018

I’ve tried, tried, tried, and I’ve tried even more
I’ve cried, cried, cried, and I can’t recall what for
I’ve pressed, I’ve pushed, I’ve yelled, I’ve begged in hopes of some success
But the inevitable fact is that it never will impress
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fucks have runneth dry
I’ve tried to go fuck shopping but there’s no fucks left to buy
I’ve no more fucks to give though more fucks I’ve tried to get
I’m over my fuck budget and I’m now in fucking debt
I strived, strived, strived, to get everything done
I played by all the rules, but I very rarely won
I’ve smiled, I’ve charmed, I’ve wooed and laughed, alas to no avail
I’ve run round like a moron to unequivocally fail
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fuck fuse has just blown
I’ve been hunting for my fucks all day
But they’ve upped and fucked off home
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fuck rations are depleted
I’ve rallied my fuck army but it’s been fucking defeated
The effort has just not been worth the time or the expense
I’ve exhausted all my energy for minimal recompense
The complete lack of acknowledgement has now begun to gall
And I’ve come to realize that I don’t give a fuck at all
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fucks have flown away
My fucks are now so fucked off they refuse to fucking stay
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fucks have gone insane
They’ve come back round and passed me while they’re fucking off again
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fucks have all dissolved
I’ve planned many projects but my fucks won’t be involved
I’ve no more fucks to give, my fucks have all been spent
They’ve fucked off from the building and I don’t know where they went
I’ve no more fucks to give
I’ve no more fucks to give
I’ve no more fucks, I’ve no more fucks, I’ve no more fucks to give

Diet Ginger Ale, Coffee and Some Chocolate

I’ve seen with my own eyes how people are hoarding toilet paper, water, bleach, Lysol, hand sanitizer, food and even rubbing alcohol.

There are some completely rude and not so nice people out there, you guys.

Duh.

I watched some of them in complete awe with my boyfriend last Thursday at Dollar General for half an hour while we waited in the long checkout line. I just wanted to buy my pup’s some dog food, a few two-liters of diet ginger ale, coffee and some chocolate. (Must-haves in my world.)

Luckily, before I moved, I accidentally overbought toilet paper because I’d forgotten that I already had a full package in the upstairs hallway bathroom closet.

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Khajiit has wares, if you have coin. (My daughter and her sense of humor. SMH.)

So, at last count, we now have 19 rolls. (Double rolls, mind you!)

I have plenty of hand soap, antibacterial wipes and sanitizer right now because the previous owner’s son left behind some of those items at my new house, plus a full jug of bleach. I also have one that I purchased before the coronavirus became a thing to be concerned about.

I haven’t gone out to hoard anything and perhaps that’s stupid of me. I have groceries and I sincerely believe plenty enough to last us for at least a month or so.

Our new neighbors are elderly (also very nice) and although they have their grown daughter living with them, if they ran out of soap, toilet paper or whatever, I’d gladly share what we have.

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I worry about my daughter at work, she’s in contact with the general public, plus my boyfriend as well. All any of us can do is cover our mouths when we cough, sneeze and of course, wash our hands.

And pray. Personally, I’ve been doing tons of that. I know it’s not everyone’s thing, though, for me, it helps keep me calmer and less afraid.

My Mindful Self-Compassion class, starting this Tuesday, was at first going to be postponed although now it’s been officially moved online via an app called Zoom. I have no idea how easy it’ll be for me to navigate…but shit, I’m sure going to try.

Hopefully, once things start to get back to normal here in Ohio, the class will start to meet in person like originally planned. Not only was I excited to learn new stuff, but I was also looking forward to meeting new people.

I see my therapist (finally!) also on Tuesday and this is a good thing. I have a pretty serious and troubling personal problem right now that I need to discuss with a trained professional. It hasn’t been canceled as of yet so I still plan on going.

The way I look at things, yes, we do need to be extra cautious and do our part to stop the spread of this damn thing. I get that, I dig it.

But we also have to live our lives as well. Being an introvert and enjoying my solitude, isolating myself for the greater good isn’t that big of a deal to me.

My mental health is precious to me and this issue that I’m having in my personal life is rather upsetting. I don’t want to miss another appointment with her again.

I don’t mean to be evasive but it’s just not the right time to open the cage and let this particular bird free yet.

Stay safe, you guys.