As some of you may have noticed, I have had difficulty posting lately. What you do not know is that I am still writing … snippets … here and there … mostly for myself. Without going into all the hurtful details, let’s just say that someone who I once looked up to as a blogger and aspiring writer has been acting maliciously … possibly unknowingly, but I have come to believe that she knows exactly what she is doing and does not give a flying fuck whose feelings get hurt because she is right in her own little narrow-minded world. Due to things she has openly said to me and to others, I have often second guessed myself as a writer, and I have considered taking down this blog several times over the last six to nine months. This same person has unknowingly alienated herself from most of my social networking and blogging friends because of her inappropriate and insensitive comments. This begs the question: Where do I go from here? Do I allow her to control my destiny?
The short answer is HELL NO! I WON’T GO! It pleases me. Through this blog I have learned so much about myself and how others view me. I cannot tell you how many relationships I have built and/or repaired via blogging. Blogging has totally enhanced the way I communicate with others in the real world. The blogging community, overall, has strengthened my trust in the inherent good nature of people. Blogging has enabled me to collaborate better with others … even when we agree to disagree. Blogging has enhanced the creator and innovator within me. It has permitted me to gain greater alignment with writers who inspire me to aspire before I expire. In brief, blogging has allowed me to engage and be to be engaged by other writers.
I started seven different blog posts today, but none of them seemed to fit what I wanted to say. Hell, I’m not exactly sure what the fuck I wanted to say today either. I spent an extensive portion of the day online looking for inspiration. When all hope was gone that I would post two days in a row, a light bulb moment occurred. My alter-ego whispered to me that I should review what I learned from others on The Internet today while I was lurking.
And, so it came to pass, Twtter, Plurk, and Facebook provided me with blog fodder.
My uncle is looking for a poop changer via FB.
Certain things happen only on Bravo if you live @citizenjaney’s house.
In general, I don’t think people are bad, but I do think they make bad choices.
One can never have enough toilet paper or flip flops.
I love the word knackered like it’s my job.
I am so over the Keanu meme.
“We must ensure a disaster like this doesn’t happen again.” ~ Barack Obama
I have ennui. No worries. I am not going to jump off a bridge or quit blogging. However, I could easily jab a sharp, shiny object through a certain “special” someone’s eye.
I Read Banned Books is was down for your protection. This will happen from time to time to optimize the negativity, medicate the Psycho Hose Beast, and various other hoodoo voodoo. This lapse in thought-provoking posts should only take a short while (the rest of the school year or less), unless something is very wrong I am confined. If you have any trouble or concerns regarding this post, feel free to leave a comment below or send an email to cajunvegan @ gmail.com. If I am feeling less homicidal, I may answer you with my usual superior intellect and sarcastic attitude.
If you follow me on Twitter or Plurk, you probably read that I thought I saw a dead body on the side of the road on my way to work this morning. (Well, I do work in the hood, remember?) Thankfully, when I stopped the car and went to investigate (Yes, I needed to know for sure that it wasn’t a dead student.), I discovered that it was a couple of very full trash bags covered with a tarp. Believe it or not, I was quite disappointed, as I have always envisioned myself stumbling upon a rotting corpse much like the Stand by Me boys did. Little did I know was that I would soon face a different form of a lifeless body within the hour.
I may have forgotten to mention that Sybil made Flea Fly a nervous wreck, and she canceled the planned affair. They were just going to elope for a few weeks. However, this past Friday I was informed that the shotgun wedding is back on again … for this Saturday.
Thankfully, Sybil and Sanford agreed to pay for Boog and I to go as part of the wedding gift. We are the attendants. I have three days to find the perfect little black dress and get degooniegoogoofied. The big task of the week will be to run interference between little sister and mom because that is what big sisters do. Expect more of these bullet-styles updates and/or overheards on this blog, Twitter, and Plurk. My freak show without a tent family is here for your entertainment.
Sybil to Flea Fly: Why can’t I wear a nice pantsuit?
Flea Fly to Sanford: Get a new black suit. We’ll bury you in it when you die.
Flea Fly to Sybil: You’re just lucky I’m not waiting until after I have the baby to get married because I want to drink at my wedding.
Did I mention how happy I am that I eloped nine years ago?
Well, smack my ass, and call me Sally. I never thought I would say this let alone blog about it, but my asshole is on fire … literally. Late yesterday afternoon, I had nachos loaded with jalapenos at the movies. I woke up in the middle of the night with fire water shooting out of my ass. It has continued most of the day today despite drinking glasses of fluids and eating despite gut cramps to try to facilitate the digestion process. In the past, I have eaten jalapenos straight out of the jar/can and had no adverse effects. Hello, I’m Cajun. I grew up with Tabasco on everything. This is obviously food poisoning.
I updated my statuses on Plurk and Twitter to indicate that I had “liquid fire ass” and asked people how long it takes to digest bad jalapenos. While people who claim to be my friends made fun of me with by embedding songs like “Ring of Fire” and “I’m Burning for You” and recommending Pepto and Tucks, I had a private conversation with the one and only Ashton (a.k.a. LonoDaigle), a couyan ami of mine from Louisiana. He stated publicly that “for dignity’s sake…i’m gonna private plurk ya….”
This is what transpired after LonoDaigle asked me: “you there??”
I am headed to bayou country for a long weekend. To prepare myself for the insanity that is my mother, Sybil, I have concocted a Thursday 13 of things Sybil might Twitter if she even knew what it was, and I have added what my response would be to rehearse the inevitable.
Where are my cigarettes? (@Sybil – The trashcan.)
You should see @cajunvegan’s hair. I don’t know why she wears it that shade of red. (@Sybil – Because I can can can can.)
When the hell did @cajunvegan get a tattoo? (@Sybil – October 2008 — BTW I hid it from you in December.)
They are picking on me again. (@Sybil – We are laughing with you not at you.)
My grandson is stubborn just like his mother. (@Sybil – And his G’Ma)
Bite me. (@Sybil – My bark is worse than my bite.)
@cajunvegan – how many glasses of wine have you had? (@Sybil – Obviously, not enough)
@cajunvegan – Where did you get those earrings? (@Sybil – Out of your jewelry box)
@cajunvegan – Stop text messaging me. (@Sybil – You are breaking up, what? )
I’m free, white, and over 21. (@Sybil – Where’s your sheet?)
@cajunvegan – You cannot sleep in tomorrow. We have things to do. (@Sybil – Yes, I am sure that I need more wine.)
Molly is like the daughter I never had. (@Sybil – She’s a bitch all right.)
@cajunvegan – Your Maw Maw is driving me crazy. (@Sybil – It clearly runs in the family.)
Wish me save travels, free flowing red wine, and a pain-free Sybil weekend.