Sunday, December 16, 2012

Just Wondering

I am going to post today for the first time in forever with no explanation just because I have something I need to say and I have this outlet. Hopefully soon I will update with my usual BS.

In regards to what happened Friday in Connecticut, I have no real words. It is horrific, tragic and absolutely mind boggling that this could happen; and to little children no less. I haven't said anything about it on Facebook unlike the rest of my friends list because I cannot find words to express how sorry I am for the families. The people I know, however, seem to have no lack of pictures and statuses promising prayers for the families of those kids. My only thought after something like this is "how dare you offer to pray."

If you're reading this and you're a Christian by all means express your disagreement with me. I know a lot about your beliefs. I spent my formative years in a southern Baptist school and a Catholic one before that. I know that you believe that your God is omnipotent and that he knows everything that is going to happen throughout all of our lives before we are even born (I also know you believe in free will which means not only are you ignorant, but you also don't know what those words mean). That means, in the case of the children at that school Friday, that he knew before they were born that they would make it through being a fetus to emerge into the lives of people that would love them. He knew before they were born that they would go to Sandy Hook Elementary on the last day before Xmas break 2012. And he knew that they would die in complete, paralyzing fear. That does not sit right with me. You believe that your God planned this atrocity and then you have the audacity to offer your useless words back to him; offering to ask the same being who wanted this to happen to ease the very suffering he caused. That is legitimately the worst thing you could offer at this time. Offer condolences by all means, but offering them with the promise to pray is a slap in the face to those parents who will never see their 6 year old turn 7.

I don't know how you reconcile our world with your view of god that says he is a god of love. If this is your God's "love" then your God is an abusive husband who tells you that he does these things because he loves you. And if you pull out your "God is just" line then I beg you to tell me what those 6 and 7 year old kids did to piss your God off so much. Original sin isn't in the Bible and I can't imagine that any of those kids had committed any sins worthy of dying in this manner for in their 7 short years of life. All I'm wondering is how you sleep at night while continuing to worship a god that would plan these types of horrors. Sounds pretty far away from love to me.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Being Older is Weirder than Expected

and I expected it to be pretty damn weird. 

The problem with what we *think* "adult life" is going to be like when we're 11 is that we're 11 and, therefore, completely retarded and hilariously ill equipped to even fathom the future. When I was younger, I was fat and not so cute. Well, elementary school years were ugly I was the cutest goddamn baby/toddler ever, but that is neither here nor there. Anyway, I was fat and not cute and I talked pretty much just how I talk now but with less swearing. So, I always assumed people would always call me fat. As in, ALWAYS. My tiny child brain thought that adults seriously go around calling each other rude names right to each other's faces like all the kids in my class did. I was thinking today (and I always feel like I should justify where my thoughts come from, but honestly they're just buzzing around in there and one will occasionally stop long enough for me to consider it) that I wouldn't even know what to do or how to react if someone started an argument with me and said something like "Well, you're fat!" I mean, I honestly cannot even fathom that scenario. I know that adults are mean (rarely meaner than middle school-ers,  but I digest (intentional digest/digress)), but my brain cannot comprehend that scenario without laughing at the type of immaturity that would manifest a comment like that.

Other things I assumed to be true:

     "Driving will be awesome always. I will never tire of driving by myself even if I'm just getting sent to the store." False. I hate getting sent to the store. 

     "Grown people aren't ashamed to be your friend." False. Sometimes you'll spend all your time with a person and one day it will dawn on you that you never go in public together, you don't know any of their people, and they're constantly scanning for better plans on the horizon. 

     "Your best friend is your best friend always and nothing stupid like boys will make you not be friends." Hahahaha. I know you've all heard some The Pretty One drama kinda consistently and I'm sure it's losing it's luster, but just going to once again state that, though I love her, she is a royal bitch almost always. Especially in situations where menfolk might be involved. 

I'm not sure what got me started on all this reflection. All I know is that I thought life went one way and it turns out that I was pretty much wrong on every assumption. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that I was wrong about most things because I think my existence is pretty rad, but 11 year old Bri definitely thought 22 year old Bri was going to be a lot of things she's not; like graduated from college, working a real job, having someone love her (11 year old Bri could not think of a better scenario than someone loving her fat self, 22 year old Bri loves her though so I think she's fulfilled (just gave myself diabeetus with that one. bleck)), looking put together. Also, she hoped we'd have money. Silly girl.

On another note, all y'all should listen to my radio show, Go Peeve Yourself, on Wednesdays @ 11am on it's basically just a bitch fest to get all our little pet peeves out so we don't go all Hulk on the terrible people we meet in our daily interactions. Also, like the show on Facebook because that's how love works nowadays and tell me your stories of terrible people:

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Things They Need to Hear Thursdays: Facebook Christians Edition

Dear Facebook Christians,

Don't post your preachy bullshit all over the place if you don't even have the balls to engage in respectful discourse. Every time I post a reply to one of your absurd assertions I get absolutely no response. It's not an admirable thing to just put "I believe this" out there and then not be willing or able to back yourself up. I'm not trying to fight or be disrespectful, I just want to exchange opinions with someone whose beliefs differ from my own because that shit is fascinating to me. I know that the whole world has to agree with us now, but sometimes it's good for everyone to express WHY they hold their beliefs instead of just state them. Jesus doesn't give a shit that you posted a "witty" poorly photoshopped support thingy of Chik-fil-A's hatred. Jesus wasn't a hater. The fact that you stand up in his name and hate others is ridiculous. I don't even believe in your bullshit, but I know more about it than you if you truly think that is something your "savior" would have ever done. The point of this being: argue with me or shut the fuck up.

Better at your religion than you 

It has been a damn long time, but the stars have aligned; it is Thursday, I'm working an overnight shift, and I have people to bitch about. I don't know that any of you are as hateful as me, so maybe the jumping off point I'm about to explain won't make a whole lot of sense to you and for that I apologize. There is a woman my mom used to work with that I am friends with on Facebook; I take all of my random rage out on her. She is just a huge stereotype...literally huge (that was a low blow, I know (but that rhymes so I think that negates it)). She's all Jesus-y and absurdly Republican. She represents a whole subset of the population that have their heads so far up their own asses they can't even a remember a time when they didn't bask in their own shit. She posts ridiculous assertions and then when I present an alternate viewpoint I get no response at all. Does she truly believe if she ignores me then I don't exist and she must be right? I hate that refusal to acknowledge other opinions; it's weak, it reflects poorly on you and your beliefs. I'm not in any way saying I hate all Christians; some of the best people I've ever known have identified as such. I am referring almost exclusively to this woman and others of her ilk that post their hate all over a public forum and then ignore any disagreement.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

You've Got a Friend in Me?

Hey there! Long time no blog. Don't worry, my family has given me enough shit about not posting to make anyone feel guilty. It's good that they're on my ass though or I'd never manage to get on here and say something and I really enjoy having this thing here.

Anyway, let's talk about my crazy best friend, The Pretty One, again because she has truly topped herself in whatthefuckery lately. When I first wanted to post this there had only been one bitchy incident, but now that I've waited so long there are 2! I can hardly keep up.

Allow me to set the scene:

  It is 3am.
  I am on a bench in Ybor City.
  I am absolutely schwasted.

Perhaps I should let you know what led me to this forsaken corner of my city and my sanity.

The Pretty One and I went to a male revue in downtown St. Pete, because...wait, I need more reason than MALE revue?? Uhm, $10 AYCD. Boom.

So we went and it was fun. I was far too short to really see anything, so I focused on my buzz. I said to The Pretty One before I started drinking: "Are you OK with being my DD?" She said yes and I was off. As an aside, let me tell you I am ALWAYS the DD and guardian for her and I find nothing wrong with asking for my turn to act like an ass in public.

After my desire to imbibe alcohol overwhelmed my desire to see gyrating men we retired to anther bar downtown where The Pretty One decided to just text strangers via the Skout dating app (if you haven't heard of this, congratulations. It is awful. People are cray.) rather than interact with me. Needless to say, I was ready to pay the tab, get some Taco Bell, and eat it in bed while falling asleep.

If only.

The Pretty One decided she wanted to go "dancing" (AKA find a dude to bone) and convinced me we should go find a club in Ybor to continue our evening. Recall that I'm already beyond feeling good and it's only 11pm. Red flag number one should have been that when we were getting out of the car and I was drunkenly laughing and whatnot and she said something pissy and I warned her if she was going to be shitty we could leave right then. Should have just left dammit.

We pay our way into a club, get a shitty overpriced drink, and she begins her "dancing." Not long after we leave that club with a dude. Go down the street to somewhere playing sweet music and grab a table. This is where shit got real. We're talking and I'm shouting because IT'S A GOD DAMN BAR and I'm drunk. The Pretty One starts to cry and goes to the bathroom. I walk out of the bar and pop a squat next to the building and promptly fall asleep...yes, I was 'that girl' and I am in no way proud of it. My first interaction with the public was someone who worked at the bar I was using as a cot. He was very polite and asked me if I was OK; I told him I was just waiting on my ride. Allow me to point out that I am directly in the line of vision of everyone walking on the sidewalk near this bar, there is no way that if someone had been looking for me they wouldn't have seen me. ANYWAY, the second run in was with a dude who woke me up and asked me if I wanted to get a drink with him (all I could think of was that scene in 40 year old virgin where they all say "TOO drunk" about the chick he's hitting on). His reasoning for why I should was "I'm a nice guy! I'm a Christian!" OUCH sorry buddy, but saying "I've only been to jail ONE TIME would have gotten you further with me than saying that.

The next time I wake up, it is 2:30am and the bars are letting out. I am convinced she has now abandoned me and I have a killer headache. I wander down the street till I find a nice secluded bench and I sit down to continue acting like an asshole via text to people who are in no way at fault for my miserable evening. A dude stumbles up and says "I need to make a call" and starts rattling off a number as he plops down beside me. I dial the number and hold the phone to his ear; this happened:

   Dude: "Kimmy! I can't find my car." *listening* "Kimmy! Kimmy! Kimmy! I'm in Ybor."
   *looking at his phone incredulously* "She hung up on me"
   Me: *shrug* "I'm sorry"
   *phone rings again*
   Me: "It's for you"
   Dude: "Kimmy! *listening* "A girl on a bench. She's very nice, Kimmy" *listening* "She's really nice Kimmy!"
   *turns to me* "She's calling you a whore."
   Me: *crickets*
   *phone rings again*
   Dude: *listening* "Yep. Mhm, yeah Kimmy, me and her. Right here on this bench. Mhm"

It was hilarious and the only bright spot in an awful evening. I wound up having to take a $60 cab ride home and I was not pleased. Around 5am I got a text from The Pretty One's mom asking if I was OK and if I needed her to come get me which means The Pretty One didn't get home until 5am because while I was sleeping in the mulch outside a bar my "best friend" was boning a stranger...I don't really have anything witty, it was just kinda messed up all around.

Well, it's been forever and I opened back up with this whale of a tale and for that I apologize. I hope some of you are still with me. If you're at all interested in hearing me bitch out loud in my own voice, stay tuned because someone might be putting me on the radio to do just that.

Saturday, July 14, 2012


A whole heap of things I want to blog about; absolutely no motivation. 

I'm dropping this post here to say I'm still alive and just making some huge adjustments to my life currently. I'm hoping that I can also help my little blog here out in the process.


I'm moving back in with my parents in a week. A WEEK. I'm equal parts excited, nervous, and relieved. I'm excited because my family is rad as shit, we have a good time, and I never have to feel the way I do around other people (read: awkward) around them. I'm nervous because I like doing whatever I want to do, whenever I want to do it and I know that is going to take a beating; also I like nighttime shenanigans with menfolk and that will be taking a breather for sure while I'm a resident at Chez Parental Units (side note: I don't understand people who get jiggy in their childhood beds. Ew. So incredibly creepy. My 4 year old self slept in this room, please refrain from getting bodily fluids on it). Most of all, I think I'm relieved. Sure, I feel like a massive fuck-up moving back in with the 'rents after only a few years on my own, but it will feel so good to actually save some money and get out from under the financial crap I've already accrued at the tender age of 22; for that, I can't really thank them enough.

I'm going to be taking more than one class come August for the first time in well over a year. I'm trying not to compare myself to all the people I graduated with who recently graduated college. I like my life and especially myself and I don't like most of those people at all so fuck them I'm doing alright. 

I'm planning on having MUCH more free time since I won't have even the meager excuse for a social life I have now so my first priority after schoolwork will be this blog here. I have so much I want to say and I love it, poor anemic thing that it is; I'll do to it what I've done to my ass and plump it up. 

If you're still occasionally checking here, thanks for being a trooper, I hope to be entertaining soon.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Debacle is an Awesome Word Until You Realize it Describes Your Life

Hey all! I was going to write a post entitled "The Great Car Debacle," but then some shit happened and I could've written "The Great Man Debacle ('great' here meaning big; I obviously am not keeping company with any great men)." Then some MORE shit happened that pushed this into "My LIFE is a Debacle" territory. Let me begin making you feel super awesome about your existence (I'm a giver):

My car is old. This is not news. When I broke down on the side of the interstate outside Ocala back in May, we had to replace the radiator and I had to stay in town overnight; all this to the tune of about $700. When that happened, my dad said "This is the LAST big repair we're doing to this car! *eye twitch*" So, I got back on my merry way almost 24 hours after I had started out. The car was fine all the way home and back. The next day I went to start it and...nothing. Turns out the battery was dead because my tail lights were staying on all the time. That was an easy fix so I was back on the road after only one week of having to disconnect the battery every time I left the vehicle and jump it when I got back. Fast forward one more week and my car won't turn over and is a giant paper weight for 2 weeks before I get it towed to a garage...where they want $500 for a tune-up that will supposedly make the car useful as a car instead of an outside closet with wheels. I pick the car up after the tune-up (at about 3pm; this is important in a minute) and it's driving great. I go home, post the obligatory "yay my car is fixed" facebook status, and decide I should go grocery shopping BECAUSE I CAN. I get 2 blocks from my house and the car is overheating (it is exactly 5pm). I call the guy at the car place and try to get it to them. Doesn't work. They come out to me and say we have to tow it again because I blew the head gasket. It was here I lost my shit and cried about life being unfair and blah blah blah: "EXCUSE ME, MISTER?! I blew the head gasket?? I think not, I drove it for maybe 10 minutes all combined. I invite you to suck my dick." So, then they want to do $500 more worth of work to fix the head gasket. I go to pick it up yesterday and they say "well it was running, but now that you're here, it's magically not. That'll be 5 more days." SO MUCH SAD. The story now though is that they're rebuilding my engine and putting a motor in that only has 90k miles on it, so I guess...yay?
Ever met a guy that you tried to date, but "I'm not ready for anything serious" he wanted you to take? Let me tell you the story of my situation, I was talking to a dude from the douchebag nation. The way that I met him was drunk at the pool hall, he had pretty eyes and just enough game. I drunk-shouted in his ear "YOU SHOULD GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER, so I can believe men other than Mikes want to see me naked (and also to see if you're hundred proof, obvs)" I asked him his name, all I heard was "not Mike" plus, he had a car and didn't live with his mom. We hung out a few times and he was enthused, recon asked "what's the deal?" He said I am very amused. But when I online dating stalked him, I found another story; all about how he was looking for 'a special somebody.' Come on! I'm not even going for it. You, you're not what I need, cause you say I'm just a friend, and you say I'm just a friend...But if I did these things with my "friends" I'd be the creepiest, whoriest (spell check wants this to be horsiest and I find that hilarious) friend ever. 
 The Pretty One came up last weekend because after the car thing and in light of the man thing I was in desperate need of best friend therapy. You may have heard there was a tropical storm all over my fair state, so it rained all day and night on Sunday. We decided to go out to the pool hall on Sunday night, so we gussied up (I even wore a dress!) and headed there after hitting the Olive Garden for an entire bottle of wine and making people uncomfortable. Before we left I gave The Pretty One my house keys and she put them on her key ring (this is important later). We play some pool, share some beers, have some fun; overall a good night. We head back to my place around 11:30 and it is POURING. When we get there I ask for my keys and we realize THEY AREN'T ON THE KEY CHAIN. So, we go back down to the car; can't find them. Call the bar; dumbest chick there says no one has found any keys. Call a locksmith; fifty bucks to get me in. We decide to retrace our steps (I should point out there were SO many frogs out and I was losing my shit) so we go back to the bar and ask again; she still says they don't have them, we check the table and the bathroom. Find nothing. We drive all the way back across town to Olive Garden (they're closed). At this point, The Pretty One is all pissy blaming herself and shit and I am convinced that I'm having a psychological break. We're both looking like drowned rats already so I start dancing around the Olive Garden parking lot, jumping in puddles and shit. Totes fun. We don't find the keys. Go back to the apartment and call the locksmith, guy comes out (it was the same guy who had to get me into my car last month!), The Pretty One and I are all wild eyes, running mascara and limp hair by this point. So, the guy picks my lock (giggity?) and says "Don't tell anyone I did this for free" We must have been horrifyingly pathetic to behold.  
This post is super long, but I needed to make up for the lack of posting, so I guess you can read one debacle a sitting if you can't make it through. 

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Surefire Ways to Spot an Asshole

I've been compiling this quick reference list for some time, because I believe one should always know when they're in the presence of an asshole. If you find yourself talking to someone wondering "Is this person awful?" just consult this list and if any one thing matches up, you've got a dick on your hands (giggity).

This person...

1. is a New York Yankees fan; these people are just the worst and should be avoided at all costs.

2. eats pizza with a knife and fork

3. drives a cream colored car; not white or tan, but cream.

4. wears white sunglasses

5. has a lower back tattoo; this is not about placement, but content. I saw a man at the pool with the word "Mesmerized" tattooed across his lower back. That guy sucks, I guarantee it.

6. won't give their phone number when they check into the hotel; you aren't that important and when you've been waiting 45 minutes for the shuttle and I can't call you to keep you updated  because you were too goddamn special to give your number do NOT yell at me when you get back. Fuck you.

7. says "I'm a very sexual person;" yeah, you like to get laid a lot and whore around. That doesn't mean you're all in touch with your sexuality, it means you're "horny" which is fine, but try not to be so pretentious about it.

8. tells you that "everything happens for a reason" when your life is going to shit. Just...just cunt punt that person, because that is the most BS cop out masquerading as wisdom.

9. identifies as a New England Patriots fan.

There are so many. Assholes are everywhere, but luckily they're usually doing asshole-y things to help you more easily identify them. Feel free to add anymore. Also, do you think this guy is an asshole? or just weird as shit?

His shoes are made of rope and there was no irony in that hat