Legalize Reasonability

Can we make it mandatory for anyone that is paid with tax money to be drug tested randomly? 

This would create a lot of jobs both in the testing and government. 

In fact, I propose that we first legalize hemp, packaged like cigarettes and regulated like alcohol, for general purpose and then start the drug testing. The money made on sales would then be utilized to cover the expenses of this national campaign to not only test those that get paid with tax money, but every single person who receives Federal or state funds in any form.


Teachers, firemen, police, politicians, students who receive aid, welfare, medicare, medicaid, etc… If a single cent of taxes paid into the government comes from a job that requires a drug test, then all money paid out should receive the same treatment. 

Sounds perfectly reasonable right? I think so.

Read This Article


The Evolution of Questioning


I was taught to question. No, this is not because I am “middle class” as some of you bigots would say, but because I seek to adapt and evolve to a better, brighter, and more fulfilling tomorrow. I truly want the best for most and have struggled intensely to find some answers to my questions of where, what, when, why, how, and who with regards to the future of our planet and the life residing on it. I hurt myself everyday doing my best to find a way, any way, to heal the pain I feel across the world.

If you enjoy a good read, and have an open mind, I believe you will find this enjoyable.

Link: A Day At The Park

Take on Love and Sex

K: You said life revolves around sex; thus, I have not claimed to hate what makes us wake up.

Jason: What better reason to have sex? Love is a great and wondrous thing. It can heal the mortally wounded, yet destroy your very soul. In order to know happiness in love, you must also know the pain of it.

Trust me. I’ve been divorced with young children involved. Pleasure is so much more when you have experienced the opposing extreme.

His Response: Personal Responsibility


27 dead in a shooting and people are going nuts over gun control.

I have a realistic solution: Personal Responsibility.

My firearms will never do this as they are kept safe from psycho people’s hands. Plus my family is safe from intruders in my home because I have them. My freedom is the ability to protect my family from people with guns by using my own.

A mother let her crazy ass son have access to something dangerous and see what happened? Now had he thrown molotov coctails would people be going off about banning glass bottles or matches? With the ignorance in this country, probably so.

The firearm isn’t at fault. My rifle has never rampaged shooting dozens.

I mean come on and give me a break people. Pull your head out of your butts and lock up that which you don’t want people to have. Firearms and psychotic unstable teens don’t mix. Have you not seen the percent of people on medication in this country?

Besides, I’d like to see someone try to take all the firearms anyways. Most aren’t even registered, written down, or known about by anyone other than the owners. Plus, if you consider that criminals will be criminals and have guns anyways, what is the point if not to have a firearm to protect yourself? Thus the second amendment to the constitution stands. The Bill of Rights died Dec 31, 2011 anyways with the National Defense Authorization Act.

So good luck you damned idiots with trying to take away the means of one person to end the life of another.

I’m going to take the smart road and move away from the U.S. before martial law is declared. Otherwise I’ll just have to fight for my rights… Again… And be forced to kill a fuck ton you damned idiots fighting for the wrong side.


Nothing better to do than run…

I’ve been a delinquent since I was two.  My cousin had stolen my toy, and I went to tell my mom.  She told me that if I didn’t go get my toy back myself, she’d whoop my ass.  So, I went and got my toy back, and my cousin has been scared of me even since.

One night, I ran from the cops because I had nothing better to do.  I had committed no crimes—I was just running—which moronically enough is a crime.  I stood around and watched the cops until they noticed me.  It’s funny to see a cop take off running to chase you and see what you did.  If you didn’t really do anything, he’ll ask you why you ran.  My usual response to that was, “Fuck you.”

            And they’re usually like, “You would just do that?”

            “Well, yeah.  I just did.”

            They always got mad at me for it.  I got arrested a few times, but alls they did was take me home to my mom.  Fucking cops would call my mom.  It usually went like this:

The cops asked my mom, “Anita, do you know what your son was doing?”

            Her response was, “Yes.  He’s in trouble, don’t you worry.”

            It wasn’t like this had been the first time the cops called my mom on me.  Anita come get your son.

You could hear her on the other line, God dammit. They were usually lenient on me because of my mom. Everyone knew my mom; she cut everyone’s hair, including all of the cops’.

            But yeah, one day I met the Dobermans, I hopped a fence and didn’t realize that it was Midnight’s yard cause I had no idea where the dude lived, right?  I had only met him a couple of weeks prior, through a friend of mine’s cousin.  And I landed there face to face with these dogs and was like, Aw shit.

“Hi, puppy-dog. I don’t suppose you like toys?”  I seen a toy, grabbed it, and threw it.  One of the dogs was like, Actually, yeah I kinda do like toys, and took off after it.  No shit.  The other dogs kind of looked at the other you know like: You’re not worried that this dude just jumped into the yard?  And she was more worried about playing, so you know, I threw it a couple of times just in the back yard, and I ended up playing with the dogs. 


I forgot that I was in somebody else’s back yard. And Midnight came, opening up the door.  He’s this great big black guy, who drove this great big Escalade.  If anyone ever asked, he remodeled houses.  You put two and two together.  Seeing someone in his backyard, he said, “Who the hell?  What the fuck?”

I’m like, “Hey dude.  Hey, this is your house?”

“What the hell are you doing in my back yard?” He asked.

“Oh, I was running from the cops,” I shrugged.


“Yeah, I was just fucking with them dude,” I said.

“And you brought them to my house?”

“Well, they didn’t know I came here.  They had no idea where I went.  I just jumped the fence and landed in here with your dogs.”

 “They didn’t attack you?” He said with the three of them all sitting around his feet.

“Nope, they’re cool.  Hey—” and I went walking the house.  It was funny; his wife was there.

She said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I dunno, just running from the cops.  Yup, just jumped over the fence, had no idea you lived here.”

“Are they coming back?”  She asked softly.

“Nah, they’ve been gone for a minute; I’ve been playing in the backyard with the dogs for like fifteen minutes.”

Yeah, just nothing better to do than run from the cops.  There isn’t much to do in Enid, Oklahoma, so I ran from the cops a lot.

Water-Resistant Phone

I was upset about something and smacked something that catapulted my phone one day, like across the room and launched right into a bucket of cleaner.  And I ran across the room, screaming like a little girl.  Pulling out the phone, wiping it off, taking it apart and shit.  Barely any liquid got in that bitch.  But it ended up clean as fuck.

Audio of the Leprechaun Rant

Here’s a rant my husband has given more than once…well, really, it seems to be a combination of a few braided together as he does, oh so well.  

The Burning Bush-Leprechaun Rant


Dashboard Duck

Dashboard Duck

His text: “I attempted to reason with this duck about the long looks and the perpetual staring. Duck wouldn’t listen.”

My text: “What?”

His text with picture: “Dashboard duck watches your junk bounce while you drive!”

My text: “You’re too funny.”

Jason Moments.

“I fixed Eve, and it’s exciting! But not as exciting as I have a Dremel,”  He said.

“You do have a Dremel,” I said.

“I do have a Dremel,” he said. “It’s exciting.”

Useless fact of the day:

Never assume that a 10 million isk spaceship can not beat a 75 million isk spaceship.

February Post from Facebook

I could not help myself, I stumbled upon this again, and I had to share. For my husband, this is pretty classic.

Hi. I post all sorts of craziness on this here wall. It won’t be changing anytime soon either. Things I normally post, when I post, are rants, bitches, complains, congratulatory , happy birthdays, sexy women pictures, fat guy videos, and so on. What you don’t see is a play for attention, through sympathy, by pulling the “woe is me” crap all the time. Now, I don’t have a problem with people expressing things that bother them. It is a viable way to get help from, or even relate to, those around you. This is where my problem with these “woe is me” people starts… Life can be great and life can be sad. It is most often both all at the same time, but never is it just one thing forever. If you seriously have no self worth and have zero drive to pick your ass up, dust it off, and keep going… GET THE HELL OFF MY PLANET! Allow me to side track for a moment. Sympathetic people, do your thing, but know when to stop feeding these bottomless pits of self imposed misery. Thank you. Back on track again.

To all those that suffer from actual depression not caused by laziness, over eating, too many foreign chemicals from fast food, or other self imposed causes. Seek help! Talk to your friends, talk to a counselor, take pills (LMFAO), or learn to be happy with who you are by striving to be who and what you want instead of settling for who and what you are.

To all those that suffer from depression caused by pills (yes pills for depression cause further depression by upsetting the natural chemicals in your body that regulate serotonin, which is primarily found in the INTESTINAL TRACT), over eating, not eating healthy, smoking, laziness, lack of self worth, lack of drive and motivation, and many many other factors… Shut the hell up, put down the fast food, stop smoking, , exercise, get a job, whip that damn kid for yelling at you, and quit being such a pain in my ass by sitting on yours!!! God I hate you people. Yes, HATE. As in the world would be better if you didn’t reproduce and have other little lazy fat bastards like you to whine and bitch all the time…

*breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out…*

Now… Do we all know someone who is a “woe is me” type? Yes. What should we do to curb their behavior and get them off the pity wagon? How about this: Quit feeding them your sympathy and your attention. Direct them to professionals and walk away. They will either learn to deal or they won’t.

If they do, great, pat your friend/family on the back when they rejoin the world of those of us trying to keep a smile up on a bad day by making jokes or doing other goofy stuff to make light in a dark time.

If they don’t learn to deal and fall into whatever it is depressed people fall into… Then YOU get to learn to deal without them. Pretty easy to do without them always dragging your mood down. Hell, I feel great after kicking soul sucking leeches out of my life. I’m also a bit stronger emotionally than most of you reading this too. Had my share of depression and feeling sorry for myself. I eventually got fed up with the feelings of it all, so I stood up, brushed my ass off, and got to work being someone that my kids would be proud of instead of someone that my kids will eventually support due to my poor decisions.

I know I know… This is a really long ranting post, but at least I’m walking away with a smile because I know that I have made some of you do the right thing and stop feeding the attention to the “woe is me” types. I smile and become more happy because I know that some of those types are about to change because they read this and get why half of their friends and family suddenly quit talking to them. I have hope for those who get the realization that life is what YOU make of it. I further grin my fool ass off because I can. I’m happy. I’ve gotten myself pretty far in life, but never on my own. I’ve asked for help and I hope those of you that need it eventually do too.

Thank you for reading this through. I hope I made a positive impact in my semi-harsh words.