WELL THEN

It’s Thanksgiving. I don’t give a rat’s ass about thanksgiving.

Honestly, I think it’s all a load of crap. We’re pretty much celebrating our slaughter of a bazillion innocent Native Americans and bullshitting about what we’re thankful for one day of the freaking year when we should be thankful all the damn time. We should have Thanksgiving every fucking week. Plus, who would mind eating that well so often? NO ONE.

Anyway, I’m drunk (but only a little) and Nate’s still mad at me. Mad because I’m on a medication prescribed to me specifically for the purpose of keeping me off hard drugs. So myself and my son can have better lives. So he doesn’t have to worry about me fucking 24/7. So our son has at least one of his freakin’ parents around. So I don’t start sucking dick for money again (oh by the way, a post on that is being featured on TMU this Tuesday — stay tuned!)

Everyone who’s against Suboxone should just get off their damn high non-addicted horse and realize that it makes me (and others on it) a stronger person. STRONGER, DAMMIT.

Nate hasn’t called. He was supposed to call on Wednesday but he didn’t. He didn’t call today, either, and although we both don’t give a crap about Thanksgiving, I thought maybe he would call to speak to his son. But then again, if we’re raising him in a household that doesn’t give a crap about Thanksgiving, why would he call? He wouldn’t, I guess, so there’s no need to be mad at him for today. And yesterday was still his cool-off time, I get that. But tomorrow, oh boy if he doesn’t call tomorrow he’s gonna get it. Get what, I’m not sure, because he’s already in prison and all.

Anyway, I was going to try to turn this into a real post, you know one about Suboxone or Thanksgiving or prison or something, but it didn’t turn out that way because I’m (a little bit) drunk. And then I wasn’t going to post it at all, but I figured what the hell, if I can still spell this well when I’m (a little bit) drunk, people should be able to enjoy my madness. So, here you go. Welcome to my madness, bitches.

(I say bitches in a feminist, let’s-take-back-that-word kind of way.)

Jack won’t bring me another beer because he’s a poopy head.

(Not) Potty Training a Boy in 21 Easy, Soul-Sucking Steps

There are thousands upon millions of Potty Training Steps articles out there for you to consider when deciding to begin Potty Training your boy. However, none are quite as painful as this one. Enjoy.

1. Buy potty when boy is 18 months old, just to get yourself excited for no real reason.

2. Give potty to boy as Christmas present, because what kid doesn’t want his very own shitter to remind him change and growing up too fast is vastly approaching for Christmas?

3. Convince boy to sit on potty while still in Christmas PJs and do an adorable photoshoot.

4. Try to get boy acclimated to potty. Realize he’s still in a crib, so what’s the use? Put potty aside.

5. Randomly bring out potty over the next year. Sometimes boy sits on it, sometimes not.

6. Crack down when boy is two-and-a-half. Keep potty in view at all times. Buy underwear.

7. When boy still has no interest, let him run around naked all the time. Begin by having him pee outside.

8. Get boy so used to peeing outside that he still won’t go near the potty, but asks you to take him outside whenever he has to go. Take him.

9. Finally get him to use the potty by bribing him with candy and presents.

10. Go to the dollar store to stock up on candy and presents.

11. Keep boy naked all the time. Get him pretty used to using the potty for peeing purposes. No poop, yet.

12. Put boy in underwear. Take him to store. Have no accidents.

13. Get super proud of yourself and tell everyone how your boy is almost potty trained.

14. Have it all backfire when one day, out of the blue, boy stops using the potty and pees all over the couch.

15. Think it was a fluke accident and continue putting him in underwear until he pees himself 10 times and you throw your arms up in defeat.

16. Try to get boy to use the potty only to get punched in the face.

17. Give up and have daycare do it.

18. Have daycare inform you even they can’t get the kid to use the freakin’ potty.

19. Decide to write a how-to list so you can laugh at yourself years later when your kid finally gets this whole Potty Training thing at 16.

20. Make a mental note to tell any future love prospects of boy about this list.

21. Search computer and mother’s Facebook for any and all aforementioned photos, acquire exactly zero of those photos.

Kangaroo Meat Plagiarism

(I cannot, for the life of me, ever remember how to spell plagiarism. Which makes me feel crappy.)

I had someone I had never had contact with before now email me about writing a guest post for me. Her English seemed a bit strange, but I agreed because what the hell? She told me she’d be writing a piece about Kangaroo meat being an alternative to beef and pork, which I was all about because if that’s not an opinionated piece, I don’t know what it.

Well, it turned out to be an informative piece, completely plagiarised from several different sites. The kicker? She did change some words, but used the old college student thesaurus trick, in which she just traded some words for others. And yes, the thing ended up making almost no sense.

I emailed her back to give her a second chance to properly cite sources and whatnot, seeing as how some of the post seemed to be her own (although I haven’t dug that far into it), and I haven’t yet received a response. So I decided to let you all see the monstrosity I’ve been Googling all day.

*  *  *  *  *

Original:

Kangaroo meat is consistently very lean, with a relatively high proportion of polyunsaturated “structural” fat red meat which can be included with confidence in a cholesterol-lowering diet.

Hers:

Kangaroo meat is reliably extremely incline, with a generally high extent of polyunsaturated “structural” fat red meat which can be incorporated with trust in a cholesterol-bringing down eating methodology.

Original:

Studies have shown that low-fat diets rich in kangaroo meat are associated with a reduction in important risk factors for cardiovascular diseases” (O’Dea 1988).

Hers:

Studies have demonstrated that low-fat weight control plans rich in kangaroo meat are connected with a decrease in essential danger components for cardiovascular illnesses.

Original:

Typically, kangaroo meat contains less than 2% fat, about 40% of which is long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acid (PUFA) molecules which are believe to improve blood flow, reduce the blood’s tendency to clot, and thereby reduce the risk of heart attack and stroke.

Hers:

Ordinarily, kangaroo meat contains short of what 2% fat, around 40% of which is long-chain polyunsaturated unsaturated fat (PUFA) particles which are accepted to enhance blood stream, decrease the blood’s propensity to clump, and subsequently diminish the danger of heart assault and stroke.

Original:

She also found that kangaroo meat as part of a low fat diet can achieve a rapid fall in plasma cholesterol (Sinclair 1988, O’Dea 1988).

Hers:

She likewise found that kangaroo meat as a component of a low fat eating methodology can accomplish a quick fall in plasma cholesterol (Sinclair 1988, O’dea 1988).

Original:

Research of Clare Engelke made in University of Western Australia shows that kangaroo meat may be the highest known source of the healthy fat CLA (conjugated linoleic acid), which possess potential anti-carcinogenic and anti-diabetes properties, in addition to reducing obesity and atherosclerosis (Kangaroo meat – health secret revealed, Media Release – Ref 2004/67 – Apr 23 , 2004).

Hers:

Exploration of Clare Engelke made in University of Western Australia demonstrates that kangaroo meat may be the most noteworthy known wellspring of the solid fat CLA (conjugated linoleic corrosive), which have potential hostile to cancer-causing and against diabetes properties, notwithstanding diminishing heftiness and atherosclerosis (Kangaroo meat – wellbeing mystery uncovered, Media Release – Ref 2004/ 67 – Apr 23 , 2004).

Original:

“Kangaroos can have as much as five times more CLA in their fat than ruminants. The level of CLA in kangaroos depends on their diet, as it also does in ruminant animals”.

Hers:

“Kangaroos can have to the extent that five times more CLA in their fat than ruminants. The level of CLA in kangaroos relies on upon their eating regimen, as it likewise does in ruminant creatures“.

Original:

Further Reading:

Sinclair A J, 1997, ‘Diets rich in lean red meat do not raise blood cholesterol levels.’, Meat and Human Health., vol. 38, Wellington, pp. 36-40

Hers:

Further Perusing:

Sinclair A J, 1997, ‘Eating methodologies rich in lean red meat don’t raise blood cholesterol levels.’ Meat and Human Health. vol. 38, Wellington, pp. 36-40

*  *  *  *  *

I take back my previous statement. I don’t think any of this post is actually hers. The above is only one section all taken from this site. She also goes on to plagiarize Wikipedia (is that even possible?!), and after I found that out I gave up on Googling any other parts because there’s no way they’re her own.

She even stole a recipe from some poor, unsuspecting sack.

Original:

Try this kangaroo meat recipe at home!

Put oil on the steak and sprinkle with salt
Put the steak on a fry pan and cook on a medium heat for 4.5 minutes each side for medium rare.
Allow to rest for 10 minutes before eating.
Enjoy with a Coopers Ale or Boags.

Hers:

Attempt this kangaroo meat formula at home! Put oil on the steak and sprinkle with salt Put the steak on a sear container and cook on a medium high temperature for 4.5 minutes each one side for medium uncommon. Permit to rest for 10 prior minutes consuming. Appreciate with a Coopers Ale or Boags.

I wish I knew how to do an image search, because she also sent me two of those. Isn’t there someone I should be telling about this? I mean, I’m no medical student or even remotely worried about my health, but I’m pretty sure no one uses the terms notwithstanding diminishing heftiness or heart assault.

For goodness sake.

What’s Wrong with Kids Today

I live two blocks away from a bunch of fields and sports-areas. Football, cheerleading, track, softball, baseball, soccer, hockey. There’s a designated field or area for each sport. It’s nice and all, in that it’s a kid-friendly neighborhood, but it’s also highly annoying.

A few weeks ago Holden and I decided to walk down and watch a baseball game. Holden loves baseball so I thought it’d be good for him. I was wrong.

The kids playing couldn’t have been older than ten. But balls were flying over the fence like crazy — I was slightly afraid for my child’s life.

One of them accidentally slid right into another one. The sliding one look frazzled and slightly embarrassed as he slowly regained his balance and stood up; the slid-into one turned fucking red and stormed off.

His parents just happened to be standing right in front of me. The mom went off to see if he was okay, and when she returned she proudly announced that her baby boy said “he’s lucky I didn’t fucking hit him!” Then they continued to talk about how awesome their kid was and how horrible the other one was, and how they kind of wanted to hit him themselves. All because the other kid accidentally slid into theirs. Acci-fucking-dentally.

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Why Drinking Alone is Awesome

Drinking alone is taboo. Drinking at all is taboo for me. But last night I caved and bought some wine coolers (I was craving beer but those Pineapple Smirnoff are just so good) mainly because my anxiety has been out of control and I just wanted to relax. So yeah, I self-medicated. After one Smirnoff I passed out so obviously it worked.

sleeping

The thing is, Jack decided to have a few drinks with me. On my wine cooler run I also got him a bottle of rum. So, I guess, he had this idea in his head of how the night would go and my impromptu snoring was not part of his plan.

I don’t exactly know what was part of his plan, but I could sense the disappointment as I vaguely heard him ask if I was going to sleep last night, and again this morning when I realized he had posted on Facebook quite a few times about having a bad day, drinking alone, and wanting company. My drooling self was not cutting it.

All of this made me realize just how freeing drinking alone is. You may think it’s a sign of alcoholism, I say it’s a sign that you’re in control. For example:

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