If there’s one thing that gets my blood hotter than hell, it’s people thinking they’re entitled to whatever, just because of, well, whatever fucking reason. Got a fancy job? Are you fucking wealthy? Or are you just a huge douchebag that thinks if you intimidate someone, you’ll get your way?
If any of these things apply to you, it must mean that the world owes you any and everything your little heart desires. And woe unto the one who tries to tell you otherwise, cause you’ll let them have it.
Well here’s a big fuck you, buddy. I don’t owe you shit and I’m certainly not going to kiss your ass for any reason.
I work in the hotel industry and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen or been part of a conversation with a guest who thinks just because they’ve spent so much money at our establishment, that it entitles them to whatever the fuck they want. Extended after hours time in the pool? Free breakfast? Or just insincere ass-kissing all around.
It seems like privilege and self entitlement are at incredible heights lately and it drives me absolutely insane. Like, I don’t give a shit who you are… President, celebrity or the schmuck from out of town who has the highest tier he can possibly have as a rewards member from frequenting our hotel chain. Get the fuck off your high horse. PLEASE.
Please, do the world a favor and humble yourself for us little folks. Especially those of us who wait on you hand and foot in the service world. Most of us are genuine and enjoy working in hospitality or other service industries. But it’s assholes like you that want to try my motherfucking patience.
If you treat me with anything other than respect or kindness, then please expect me to correct your way of thinking by telling you otherwise because I’m not going to tolerate you screaming at me or threatening to take your business elsewhere because I won’t capitulate to your absolutely ridiculous demands or attitude.
I just can’t stand it.
I’m incredibly lucky to work at the hotel that I do and that our management has our back 120% in any given situation. But my heart goes out to those who don’t and I’ve got your back. If I’m out anywhere and I see someone giving you a hard time, I’ll speak up for you and tell them to fuck off.
It’s the least I can do since I, too, work in the service industry. But also because, well, I’m a fucking human being with a heart and morals. I’ve got your back, bb’s.
Have I mentioned I’m flighty and neurotic? My attention span isn’t solely to blame, though. Depression, writer’s block, etc. I tried to think of shit to write about, I really did. But as the days turned into weeks, I’m pretty much yelling at myself, like… Bitch! 👏 Write! 👏 Something!
The anxiety to write up something, anything was getting stronger the longer I waited. It’s a terrible feeling…
Well… nothing much has been going on to write about, except now… Hub’s dad isn’t doing too well healthwise and has practically begged us to move in with him.
For those who are unaware, Matt and I share a house with his mother and have been chomping at the bit to liberate ourselves and establish our freedom once more. It’s been financially impossible the last few years, though, so we’ve been miserable. Very little privacy. Her dog, while cute, barks incessantly. The neighbor is a jackass who doesn’t deserve the dog HE has and he’s annoying af. Just… numerous reasons for us to gtfo.
His dad had asked us before to move in with him but at the time, it just wasn’t feasible. Since I don’t drive, Matt takes me back and forth to work and while I’m at work, he drives for Uber for a few hours. The drive to my work and his dad’s place way out in the country, is an hour there and an hour back.
We’ll deal with the drive time, though, because we really want to take care of his dad. The biggest issue is the fact that because he’s way out in the country, there’s zero reception for our cell phones and the internet company we’re currently with, doesn’t service the area out there. So our options, while we have a few, are basically going to be satellite. Whatever, no big deal. The pros easily outweigh the cons. Besides, Matt can probably get paid through the VA to be his dad’s official caretaker, so there’s that.
It’s also way out in the country. The property sits way back off the road, is surrounded on all sides by the most beautiful trees and has two small lakes for fishing and just, you know, observing peacefully with a cup of coffee… or you know, booze. The pics below were taken earlier this year and the algae is nowhere to be seen now. We went out to visit him a few days ago, which is when he asked us to move in with him again.
We’ll see if it actually happens, though. The deciding factor is on whether or not the property owners will be okay with us moving in as well. If they say no, we’ll have to figure something out so that his dad can move in with us elsewhere. Either way, moving will be happening… it’s just a matter of when and where.
Anyway… Sorry again for taking so long to give y’all something to read. I promise to do better.
A couple nights ago, I just happened to look up at the cameras while at work. I noticed a fat yellow orbweaver had built a web over one of the cameras outside and have been wanting to get a picture of it to show the hubs. Finally got the shot, but it was incredibly blurry as you see below.
Me: *shows him the pic* It’s blurry but there she is!
Him: It’s blurry cause she’s nude.
Tiny disclaimer about the 1LW pic I’m using: No offense to the winner is intended but I’d like to support my husband Martians Attack and use his picture. He worked so hard on it and I hated to see it go to the trash.
I haven’t had squat to write about in the last couple days. So… instead, I’ll give you some small highlights to tide you tf over, lol.
~ Hubs bought me some grapes and proceeded to feed them to me like a Nymph would Bacchus. He didn’t really, I was just shoveling them into my face and then happened to notice a teeny, tiny wormy caterpillar in the bowl. I was promptly ill, began googling the shit out of said worm in grapes. Didn’t really find anything but haven’t noticed anything strange, like, caterpillars growing in my stomach. Hubs went back the next day and got a refund for those $6 grapes. Also, never buying grapes from Kroger again. They were the best looking bunch he found and they were fucking $6! But. They. Were. SOUR. AF.
~ I value my nights off of work like I value food and air. Matter of fact, it’s probably the most important thing to me aside from my husband, whom I fucking love and cherish. So after a terrible day of being sick while trying to sleep and getting up and down all day because of it, we finally sat down at like 1:30am to follow through on our plan to enjoy each other’s company and watch Star Trek Beyond. Welp, that idea was shot through because I had to hold the guy’s hand who covers my nights off, all. fucking. night. From 1:40AM to about 9AM, I was on the phone with him at various times and trying to reach our managers in between those calls. I was not happy. Not happy at all. Needless to say, I put my phone on silent tonight.
~ Linda G. Hill is hosting a contest for a new badge to represent her writing prompt, One-Liner Wednesday and hubs whipped one up. It’s pretty fancy. Please go vote for him! His is the “yellow badge” that you can see HERE and vote for HERE. This badge will be used for the rest of the year and will likely help draw traffic to his blog. Voting ends today at noon GMT. HALP HIM!
Those are the only highlights that I can really think of for the moment. So… scram!
I have always had some pretty crazy dreams. Very detailed, too. I usually remember everything about my dreams and the one I just woke up from is no different.
Our scene begins in a normal mall. Shops are open, people are everywhere and I’m walking along just browsing, kind of aimlessly walking with the crowd of shoppers and out of nowhere someone just about runs me over without apologizing.
Now, I don’t take that kind of abuse from anyone and this stranger is no different. I called out to them in an upset kind of tone. The gentleman turns around and…
It’s John fucking Cusack.
Normally, I’d be shitting my pants because, c’mon… It’s John Cusack! Who doesn’t love this man? I do! Or… I thought I did.
John turned around and whipped out a gun and opened fire on me! In a crowded mall!
I thought John was cool! I mean, I loved him very, very much in Hot Tub Time Machine. Hubby and I watch it often enough that we can quote the entire movie from beginning to end. But this time… Adam really does suck Cox n’ Dix.
So there I am, avoiding this lead hailfire, running bodies and splintering wood from the impact of said lead. I’m running my fat little ass off, which, in dreams, is always much easier than reality, lol.
I don’t know what crawled up John’s ass and died but fucking excuse me for not wanting to be run over like I’m the autobahn. Celebrity or no, you don’t get to do that John.
Except, apparently he does, because my confronting him about it has now turned into a deadly chase where he’s like the Terminator and I’m poor Sarah Connor, except… there’s no Kyle Reese to save my lily white behind. It’s up to me and I don’t feel like dying today!
So I haul ass to the underbelly of the mall where workers are trying to do their job and it looks like a scene from Titanic where Rose and Jack are running through the boiler room. I’m sure the workers didn’t think that shit was cute, either. GTFO!
Anyways, there I am, dodging and weaving around heavy machinery and the workers trying to do their jobs while John is steadily trying to kill my ass. Crazy, right?
Blood is being sprayed everywhere, people are screaming. It’s not pretty.
We finally work our way back up to the topside of the mall where I finally make it to the police station. (It’s a dream, shaddup.) The Chief of Police assures me that they’ll handle this and tell all of us scared civilians to keep down while they do their job in apprehending Undesirable #1.
It’s not to be. They haven’t given John Cusack enough credit. He’s fucking crafty. He knows exactly how all of this will end.
Over the loud speaker we all suddenly hear him saying to surrender the girl or everyone will die when he leaks this toxic nerve gas.
This shit is rapidly turning into a scene from Batman (1989) where Joker murders everyone in the art museum and rearranges their faces, well, artfully.
Everyone looks at me and starts putting on their gas masks. Lo and fucking behold, there’s no mask for me and some poor unfortunately souls whose eyes start bugging out of their heads like the scene from Total Recall where the window is blown out and the air from Mars causes a truly agonizing death.
Of course, right before I actually kick the bucket, I wake up and all is well with the world except that the humidity from outside has permeated the coolness of our central air to make for a very balmy sleepy time and I really ought to not eat pizza before going to bed.
Also, there’s a moral you can learn from this!
Don’t confront someone over something small. It could be deadly! Learn from my example, folks.
Him: Ah, this turned out fucking great, if I do say so myself.
Him: Almost ready to post.
Me: Woo, woo! I’m trying to catch up on my reading list now. You’ll be number 2381290387.
Him: Can you bump me one up or so?
Me: Uh… *inserts gif*
Me: Lol, of course I’ll bump you up.
Him: WOOHOO! *inserts pic*
Sorry y’all, guess my duty as a wife trumps my duty to CDO in reading these posts in order, lol. If y’all are interested in what he posted, it IS fucking funny and you should totally read it. JUST DO IT!
Of course it isn’t April 1st, you fool! I’m just saying that my blog is a month old. I started it on April 1st, last month and I can’t really believe that it’s going strong.
“So? It’s only a month!”
Scoff all you like but this is monumental for me.
I’ve started and deleted so many blogs that I’m sure hubby didn’t take me seriously when I started this one up last month. HA! He and I are both astounded by the rate in which I’m gaining followers and the rate in which I’m churning out posts.
Astounded, I tell you!
As of May 12th, 2017… I have 46 followers, 4 views away from 400 and this will be post number 30. I told hubby that I felt like this attempt could be taken seriously when I reached 50 posts and only then would I buy my domain name for it, so it’ll be 20 more posts before that happens.
My whole purpose in posting this was not only to celebrate this weird success, but I wanted to tell everyone that I’m hosting a small giveaway when I reach 100 followers! What better way to reward you and show my appreciation for reading my drivel than by extorting you luring you in with promises of a gift?!
To participate, all you have to do is click that follow button if you’re a WordPress user or follow via submitting your email.
Once I’ve gotten close to 100 followers, I’ll update with information on what the prize is going to be. Don’t worry, while not lavish or expensive, it’ll be something people will enjoy using.
Thanks so much to those who have followed already… hubby and I get so freaking excited when we see we’ve each gotten someone new to subscribe to our nonsense.
Speaking of hubs… I may have heard he might be doing a small giveaway, too, if he also reaches a certain number of followers. Go follow him here at Martians Attack to not only keep an eye on that rumored giveaway, but follow him anyway because he’s funny af.
So! Yay for me and yay for you! It’ll be a win/win. Let the wild rumpus begin!
“Relax,” said the night man,
“We are programmed to receive. You can check-out any time you like, But you can never leave!“
This is honestly one of my favorite songs. My momma used to listen to it when I was a kid, so naturally, I grew into her amazing taste in music for myself. I listen to it frequently. In fact, I’m listening to it right now as I type this.
On our road trip the other day, Hubs and I heard it on three separate occasions. Twice in the car on two different stations and once while we stopped in McDonald’s to use the restroom. Pretty sure he’s sick of hearing this song, which is why I’m playing it while he’s at his doctor’s appointment.
Furthermore, I work as a night auditor at a hotel and I never pass up the chance to show the older guests how cool their “night man” is by quoting the best Eagle’s song to date. They usually laugh and go on their merry way.
The hubs and I went on a little road trip for our anniversary last week, May 1st, and the day was just absolutely beautiful for it.
Since money was extra tight, we came up with a few places of interest to go see while we were out. It was so good to get out and enjoy the sunshine which is a novel experience for me since I’m such a night owl. I was sure that any exposure to the sun would instantly cause my skin to go up in flames, but alas, I was just fine.
For those that are curious, we live in Cincinnati, which is known as part of the Tri-State area of Ohio, Kentucky and Indiana.
First we decided to take the Anderson Ferry in Delhi over to Constance, Kentucky. It had been storming for weeks on end and we were sure the ride would be nausea-inducing because of the choppy water but we were pleasantly surprised at how smooth it was.
Hubby has a fear of deep, open water but had no issues with riding the ferry. I remember being a kid and going with my mom and a family friend and taking it while out hitting up the vegetable stands. In fact, I remember eating half of a raw tomato and throwing the rest of it overboard and watching it bob up and down on the waves from the ferry. Ah, good times.
After we disembarked from USS Deborah A., we wound our way through Hebron and Burlington until we hit the road that runs right alongside the Ohio River to Rabbit Hash. We just couldn’t stop exclaiming about how beautiful and lush everything was and that the people who lived in the area were supremely lucky to do so. Of course, we also said that when we hit the lotto, that’s where we’ll migrate to. Some day…
What should have been a half hour drive turned into about 45 minutes because Matt sneezed and missed the sign that said to turn and enter Rabbit Hash proper. I told him to just keep going and we could circle back and come from the opposite side.
I’m glad I did because otherwise, we wouldn’t have seen this creepy old Southern Baptist church sitting high on its creepy little hill. Seriously… why do Baptist churches always have to look so, well, creepy? I love it, but still.
So after another fifteen minutes of driving, we finally reached Rabbit Hash, a rustic hamlet known for its almost 200 year old General Store and doggy mayors. I knew Matt would fall in love with the place just as I did when I’d gone through it many years before. The original Rabbit Hash General Store had been built in 1831 and had survived a great many floods between then and February 2016 until an unfortunate electrical fire burned it down.
Thanks to the tender love and dedication of the community, though, it was rebuilt to the exact same style it had originally been in only a short year later. You can read more about it all, here. I was right though, he completely fell in love and we both had a hard time leaving it.
Very cool historic info about the place.
Pretty sure this used to be their gallows. JK, maybe…
The store is an eclectic mix of country and new age items for sale. It seriously felt like home to us. It smelled so good, too. Like old wood and nag champa incense. The building also has the most amazing creek running beneath it in the back. If we could have made our home there, we would have.
After the owners used a crow bar to pry us out of their store, we hit the road again and talked about whether it was fate that brought us together or luck. It was sappy af, I’m telling you… Our hands were clasped over the console, our fingers were tightly entwined and we would occasionally exchange such love-filled glances with each other. Totally sickening, folks. ♥♥♥
Traveling up through Indiana and finally back over to Ohio, we met up with his dad at Reily’s Pizza where dad treated us to dinner for our anniversary.
We got stuffed on their amazing pizza, cheese fries, cheesy pretzel and $1 cans of Coors Light while the rain made itself known again throughout our meal. My eyes got so heavy towards the end of our meal and I pretty much just sat there quietly and listened to hubs and his dad talk about this, that and the other thing. We went straight home and slept the rest of the day away. It was the best day. Only spent a whopping $20.
So that was last Monday, the 1st. Yesterday we took advantage of the break in rain and spent the sunny day driving around again, only this time we went out for french fries and hot fudge sundaes. Afterwards, we went driving around looking at various mobile home parks that we could eventually call home.
On the way home, we stopped by the old home of Americana Amusement Park; another place we used to haunt when we were kids. It too was destroyed by an electrical fire and sadly closed down for good in ’99. Even worse is that it’ll all be torn down this year and rebuilt into a new campus for a local college and city park space. You can read about their history here.
When we got home, I took a muscle relaxer for my lower back that felt like it was about to detach from the rest of my body while he took a Xanax for his anxiety. Needless to say, we were out like a light very shortly after and didn’t wake up until around Midnight.
We made some frozen pizza, watched Sausage Party and then played some Left 4 Dead 2 while cuddling our doggo, Redd.
It’s been so nice to get out of the house and not interact with humans. So nice that we might make this a regular thing by exploring areas around our home.
Before I forget… Did you know that Elvis and Priscilla also got married on May 1st? I love that! Thankfully, our marriage has lasted longer than their 6 years and some odd months.
The last two days have not been good for me in a mental capacity. My thoughts, especially, have been like a thicket. I hate brain fog with a passion. There’s so much I want to write about (and it’s a good thing I have a list to put my post ideas on), but when I sit down to smash it out on the keyboard, nothing happens and my ADHD kicks in and all of a sudden I’ve been trawling youtube for 18 hours.
I think Sunday will be a random thoughts kinda day. For those little things that don’t really require a post of their own, ya know? So… I’ll just ramble here for today and get back next week with a spectacularly uninspiring blog post about something inconsequential to wow and amaze my friends. Have I mentioned that this blog is legit trash? Hey, you’re the one who decided I was worth following, so you get to deal with the fallout.
1. I realized I need a meat hammer. I could have cut down my cooking time on the giant chicken boobs from dinner a few nights ago if I had only had a meat hammer. But I’m strangely resistant to using things that normal adults would use. I distinctly remember the times my mom would use her meat hammer and it was loud af. Every time I think of it, I think about how she was such a better adult then than I am now. But mostly, I remember that it was loud.
For those of you who don’t know, hubs and I share a house with his mother and the sound carries very well. Also, we keep weird time since I work third shift. It would have woken her up for sure. If you’re curious about the house set up, the house itself is a cottage type and we live in the very back in an addition that was built on in the early 70s. We pretty much live in a small studio. Back to the meat hammer… guess I’ll pull up my big girl bloomers and put it on my list of shit I need to buy soon. *sigh*
2. Maintaining friendships on social media is tiring af. It’s also, apparently, a one way street. In August last year, I decided I needed to unfollow some people and limit my timeline to a very select few friends and family and videos of cute animals, crafts, recipes and shit. It was a desperate attempt to block out all the negativity I’d been seeing on Facebook for a long time. I even posted on there that I needed to take a break from Facebook but that I could always be contacted via Messenger.
A few weeks ago, I decided to go back through my friend list and re-follow everyone because I was in a good place where I felt I could handle all the talk of politics and every other Debbie Downer conversation that takes place on social media (but shouldn’t). So as I’m scrolling through my list of people, I notice that someone deleted me. And not just on Facebook, but on all of my other platforms as well.
This someone, I had thought, was good enough friends with me, that she’d at least message me to talk it, whatever IT was, out, before just haring off and deleting me. She’s a good online friend of the hubs, has been since before he and I met. He messaged her to find out what happened and she came back with some cockamamie excuse about we hadn’t spoken to each other in a while. *blink blink*
To be quite honest, it fucking hurt my feelings. Hubs told her so and she came back with the lame suggestion of, “Well, I could re-add her?” No. That ship sailed and you’re not allowed back on it. I didn’t realize a friendship of ten years had suddenly required talking to each other on a regular basis and that, my loves, is why maintaining friendships on social media is exhausting.
3. There is no number three that I can think of and I’m now realizing that number two really could have been a post of its own, but… it’s here now and you’ll just have to deal with my longwindedness. Actually, there is a #3… Back to my mental capacity and perpetual brain fog… Poor hubby has had to explain super simple things to me the last couple of days. It bothers tf out of me because I’m usually a really sharp tack. Three separate times he’s tried to talk to me about something and I argued with him about how it didn’t make any sense to me. Wow. Really need this brain fog to gtfo.
So, those are a few of my rambles and rants for now. I know I’ll have a heap more by next Sunday. Hope everyone had a lovely weekend. Pray for me that I make it unscathed to next Sunday, lol.