I’m about to do something I don’t do very often. Post drunk. I suck at typing when I’m drunk, that’s why I never do it. It takes me twice as long. I have been quiet. When I’m quiet, I’m thinking about never blogging again. I don’t know why. It’s this thing I do. It’s because I don’t really operate on auto pilot, ever. I’m constantly analyzing, twirling things around, and examining everything from every angle. I’m just that kind of girl.
I’m so disturbed and saddened that this family from Colorado is going to bury the dismembered body of their 10 year old. I have a 10 year old. I love him so much it makes me mildly insane. Thinking of this horrible act makes me unable to breathe. It hurts me, physically. It takes the core of my body, my spirit, and pulls it right out of my body and squeezes it and tortures it until I feel sick. What the fucking fuck, you guys? It’s too bad. It’s someone’s baby. I can’t deal with this kind of animal. May he be caught soon. God bless that baby’s parents. If you are a parent, please say a prayer right now. For all of our babies to remain safe. In Colorado, far away, someone is living our worst nightmare. Send them the energy to get through it, because you can’t muster this kind of energy alone. You don’t need a village. You need the whole world. It’s that bad. I feel sick.
In my own world, which seems stupid and meaningless amongst the horrid events of above, I’m still thinking of getting the darlings a dog for Christmas. I started searching online at some nearby pet rescue places. Let me just say something, and then you all can declare war, I don’t really care. You know why there is an abundance of dogs in shelters? Because these weirdo dog people won’t give the dogs away. If you have kids under 6, or under 8 or even under 10 (my God people, just say only adults can have dogs and be done with it!) then they won’t give you a dog. If you don’t have a fence, no dog. If this is your first dog, no dog. Let me tell you something, weirdo dog people. I’m raising three humans by myself. I am fucking awesome at it. I haven’t had a dog in about 20 years. Does that mean I don’t know how to raise a dog? NO! Growing up, we always had a dog. It’s a DOG. D.O.G. Quit putting sad puppies on commercials if you are not going to let highly functioning, smart, normal people have them. NO COMMON SENSE. These people assume the dogs are better off euthanized than in my loving home. Huh? That’s right. You’re stupid.
I read an article this week that said more people now die of suicide than car wrecks. Why? Pills. Drug abuse. This surprises me zero, based on the number of emails I receive each week from newly widowed women with small kids. It’s starting to feel like an epidemic to me. Because of the blog I am now a magnet to these women. I kind of wish I would have found my blog in those early days too. Maybe that’s why I started publishing the madness. People, you need to get off all these pills. It’s killing you. Pain pills=heroin. It’s the same thing. Same drug. We all grew up hearing “how addictive heroin is”. Never take it, they told us. Because you could become hooked by using it just one time. But doctors hand out these fucking pills in pez dispensers and you people line up in droves with your hands out. And you’re ruining your lives, and your families. And you don’t even feel better. You don’t get relief. In fact, you feel worse. So you take more pills. New pills. Stronger pills. Combinations of pills. It’s all fucked up. If you wouldn’t dare stick a heroin needle in your arm, then you shouldn’t dare be taking opioid pain pills for any length of time.
Middle darling is a genius, even though he’s only 5. We were riding home from school the other day and out of the blue, right after he told me what he ate for lunch and what they played at recess, he asked me where Daddy got his pills from. I told him they came from the doctor. I told him that not all doctors really cared about their patients. Some doctors just want to make a lot of money. They give you pills even though they know you are getting addicted and not getting better. They give them to you for a long time. They notice you are losing weight and looking like death. They don’t care about your family. They don’t even know if you have one or not. They are sick of drug seeking weirdos in their office all day so they just hand them out and it’s really gross and sad. "Yeah, well," he says, "that doctor should be in jail. " Why yes, genius, he should be. "Well, what are we going to do?" he asks, "so that he doesn’t kill anybody else’s daddy?"
From the mouths of babes.
I would like to change this doctor. But I know I can't. Because this world seems really wrong right now. I told the darlings that I have been thinking of writing a letter to the doctor, and including a picture of our family. Our family is so awesomely beautiful, and my words are so earth shattering real, that if this man can put his head on his pillow that night and be unchanged, then the world needs to explode right now and be over. I don’t even care. Because 10 year old girls are dismembered by maniacs and people commit suicide in front of their kids and it’s all messed up. I’m a peaceful, loving person. I want things to be better. But these horrible people win sometimes. We can’t let them. Madpeople, do good things today. Everyone. Because good needs to win. For the precious girl who is 10, for my precious boy who is 10, for my precious babies who watched their daddy gasp for air and die. They are only 5 and 3 years old. Help the world today. Go out of your way to help. You simply must. Make some good. Seek it. Spin it. Make it swirl around. It matters.
And last, but not least, please click the top mommy blog icon and give me a vote. The Hot Mess has passed me up. It's kind of ok, because I luff her...but I still like to be first. Thanks.
