Totally Random!

Today I went into a rage spiral! While I was reading the paper,  I saw a link to a website and tried to click on it...it took me a while to figure out why the page wouldn't load.

Later on, I went shopping and I bought a brand of laundry detergent for the sole reason that it had a Chuck Norris seal of approval on it....I mean that's gotta be some tough assed detergent right? I will be selling ring side tickets to 'Laundry UFC', so you all can see this soap roundhouse kick my laundry in face :)

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
>

Birthday Blog Bloodbath (say that 3 times fast I dare you!)

Today is my birthday and the universe made sure that I took notice by rubbing my nose in the fact that I am getting older, every which way I turned.

Click on any picture to enlarge.

That's not a very nice sign, Universe!

Um, ok...throw it in my face why don't you?

Fatty McFatfat is getting older and plumper, I get it!

Hey now!  No one is supposed to know that!

?

Yep, I actually saw 32 coming down the road to meet me and they didn't look friendly at all!

Oh no! When 32 meets 31, it's on...they are ready to rumble.

OH 32 is a dangerous, vicious age...31 stands no chance against these Barbaric Birthday numbers

Aghh! In a matter of moments, 31 is reduced to mangled roadkill...and 32 carries on to their birthday party as planned, right on schedule

Mangled and broken, age 31 must make it's own way to the funeral home

Poor little 31

Age 31 you will be missed, you sure were a fun year to hang with

I will be sending my 32 to Chuck Norris' Roundhouse Boot camp...so when it comes time to rumble next year with 33, 32 will win and live forever!

MUAAHHHAAAHHAAA 

*evil laugh CD disc 1 track 3*

No one sent me a card this year or maybe they did but I won't find out for 6-8 weeks because of the uber efficient *italics = sarcasm*  postal services offered here in Asia...so instead of getting bummed out, I decided to create a card for myself and share it with you guys.

 

 

Want to buy me a birthday drink / present but can't make the trip to Thailand? Send me a drink / present  via paypal :o) Click HERE

Want to send me a present but have no money to do so? Then vote for me as best humour blog or freakiest blogger on the Internet click HERE 

Regular postings will resume after summer is over...miss you guys and thanks for the wonderful emails I have received over the last month! You guys are too funny! Can't wait to fill you in with all the details of my summer vacation xo

Patricia

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

>

This Blogger Is Creatively Constipated, Does Anyone Have An Antidote?

Trying to write a blog post this week, is like trying to take a crap if you are constipated. There’s a lot of pushing, grunting, and effort only to have nothing to show for it in the end!

Thanks for the Asian guy eating his own face pic

~Sigh~ I just want to take a creative dump and share it with you guys, is that too much to ask for?

Thanks for the constipated skeleton on the toilet pic

Yep, my artistic tendencies are blocked right in the sphincter. I am all bunged up with nothing to write, and I am left looking for some sort of communicatory ex-lax to induce some productivity.

Maybe if I grew a second head, I too could be uber creative?

Thanks for the old man with the two heads playing a Banjo Pic

I have tried using Google Tourette’s Syndrome (GTS) to spice up my internal wizardry juices, I have tried yoga, Red Bull, painting,
bitching in Haiku, writing,  drawing with crayons,  speaking in gibberish, stalking other bloggers, meditation, Chuck Norris jokes, singing, poetry, playing my guitar, twisted stories, making homemade yogurt, sleeping and masturbating (well…that last one was just to pass the time while I waited for inspiration to hit me) nothing seems to work!!

I need your help! All week I have been unable to produce any creative discharge! My innovation is all dried up, it’s flaccid and limp like a penis after Spring Break. Do you guys have any ideas on how to unblock one’s juices? Anyone have a funny idea they would like me to blog about? Do you have any weird sayings you have heard or use and need someone to decipher them for you?

Send me a message and I will include your idea on my next blog topic!

Bye for now

The Bunged Up Naked Writer!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
>

How Chuck's Chocolate Ovaltine And Your Blogs Saved My Life; An Open Letter

When I was a little  girl, I used to own a Hamster. Eventually, it got cancer and ate a hole right through its stomach even though it was still alive. I remember how confused I was watching him eat himself alive, how upset I was over the apparent stupidity of my beloved pet. I tried to believe my Hamster was a bad ass like Chuck Norris who would die before anything defeated him, but last night, I finally understood why that  Hamster decided to cannibalize himself.

Thanks for Chuck Norris Pic

 I too have a tumour, you see,  it’s called 'Life', and it lies within my belly.  I am stuck gnawing through my tender flesh to dig out the source of the pain, to hopefully find some relief… only to create a mortal wound in the process.

Last night I was trying to write a post to thank you guys for reading and supporting me as today is my one month of blogging anniversary and I probably wouldn’t have continued if it wasn’t for your encouraging words and wonderful blogs.

As you know, E.M.O. has been stalking me pretty hard this last week and it rendered me incapable of being funny or witty which further depressed me until I spiraled into a loathsome sea of self pity and doubt.



This is my open letter to myself (and you) of the events that unfolded last night:

 ~start of open letter~

My soul needs CPR,  I collapse into myself like a dying star. I need some aspiration, I need to find meaning and I need to find it quick. There isn’t  a reason to carry on.

A profound realization of pointlessness.

The extreme futility of life and the nothingness to the somethingness that is everything.
Does anything matter? What's the point?

Oh, there's so much to be, to do...so much to learn and teach and see, yet I want no part of it.

And if I want no part of life, then I am just a lump of flesh sitting around blogging, waiting for the end.

I guess you could say it's a 'glass is half empty' kind of day.

If only there was a pill that could cure ME from ME, some sort of prophylactic that could allow ME to endure ME till it's my time to go.

I feel stuck in the cold flat tundra of reality, without any shelter, naked against the bitter winds that chaff my body and burn my soul.

Gone are the simple days of shopping therapy to distract me from my sadness.

Gone are the simple days of going out to the bar on ladies night, getting two free drinks and head banging till I get whip lash.

Gone are the simple days of losing myself in another.

My muscles absorb the cold hard tile of the bathroom floor.

I lay on my belly, my head turned to stare with unseeing, unblinking eyes, as gigantic tears form pools below my cheek.

I cannot find refuge in the truth tonight.  I cannot be grateful for all that I have.  I cannot feel anything other than dismembered torture at the pointlessness of it all.

My muscles are tense, why hold on?

I surrender and pray for death, this game of life is painful and boring and I don’t want to play anymore.

But it’s not like when I was a kid playing Monopoly.  I can’t just stop playing cause ‘I don’t wanna anymore’. Life doesn’t just end by saying ‘game over’ (believe me, I have tried).

No matter how hard I prayed to be released from this life, it didn't happen.

No matter how ready I was to let go, no one came to take me away.

‘Um, Death?  A little help here please?
I know it's been a while and I didn’t write or call but really, I need you to hook this girl up.  Death....um...are you there? Can you hear me? I surrender! I am all yours!’

To be as still as this tile I try to become, lifeless, cold....I lay and wait.

Nothing, just a beating heart that doesn’t want to quit, even death rejects me tonight.

Abandoned by God, ignored by Death,  Stalked by E.M.O.... what kind of fucking life is this?

Now it's midnight, and all this crying has made my face look like Rocky Balboa's after going 15 rounds with Apollo Creed.

I head into the kitchen to make myself a hot cup of chocolate Ovaltine…it’s either that or a hot cup of freezer slab as I have neglected to go grocery shopping again.

As I am waiting for the kettle to boil it hits me...

‘Don't you realize that you made the choices that have put you in this very spot? Remember how this life is 'your dream life'?

Don't you know that it's your ego and it's constant need for affirmation that is giving you all this trouble? Don't you realize that writing a novel, which may or may not get published, will not bring you the instant gratification that you are addicted to?

Don’t you realize that your procrastinations are only a cruel form of torture you are inflicting upon yourself???

Don't you remember that none of this is real in the grand scheme of things? That you are perpetuating this illusion with your misery and attachments and longing for things that do not matter, for things you cannot change!

If you really don't like the way things are, you aren't trapped!  Get the fuck out of it and reinvent yourself like you did 29 times before ….you invented how to reinvent the wheel so get to it.

You don't need to suck it up and endure this bullshit, you just need to swim through it!

Like Swami says; “on one shore there's the Bliss of Ignorance and on the other shore there's the Bliss of Enlightenment and the part in between is all the shit.”

So Patricia ( I tend to refer to myself in the Third person when I am giving myself a pep talk), now’s the time to get through the shit and pick a fucking shore already! Cause lately all you are doing is swimming in circles of shit, trying to decide which shore you should travel to. Bliss is Bliss, now pick one, and go for it... you don’t want to swim in shit for the rest of your life right?

DO it, fucking swim already! The shore is but 2 feet away just use a little momentum, I know you can! Inertia has taken over and is weighing you down but you can't let it swallow you up!

You want to get wicked good at the guitar? Practice more!

You want to find love? Go out and talk to people! You won't find love hibernating in the jungle.

You want to finish writing your book?  Then start fucking writing! Just one page, right now! What will your protagonist do next? Go!

You want to lose weight, get fit and be healthy? Then exercise every day, eat better stuff than slabs of freezer frost and chocolate Ovaltine they aren’t exactly healthy staples in your diet you know.

You want to feel good? Then start taking pride in yourself and start being loving and helpful to others.  You know this is the only way, so stop procrastinating and do it already!

Just remember, even if it feels like no one else loves you Patricia, I love you......even when it feels like I don't. I must love me because I keep picking myself up off the cold bathroom floor to try again and again! Thank you for continuing to try, there must be hope buried somewhere deep down inside of you! ~end of open letter~

So that’s what I wrote to me and you last night and you know, I didn't die right there on the floor like I wished I would, nope, I crawled from the bathroom to my bed (with a roll of toilet paper in hand)....and then I went online and read some of your blogs and it made me feel a part of something. I don't know how, but it helped a little, just enough to slow the tears down to read what you had to write. Somehow, I got some hope out this hopeless situation by reading all of your thoughts, stories, jokes and secrets.

So I want to thank you, dear reader/blog writer,  for being a big part of my life for the last 30 days. You may not even know how important your blog entries might be to someone else in their time of need/of loneliness... you may have very well saved my life.

Also, thanks to Chuck Norris for contributing 3 drops of his powerful sweat into the ingredients of the hot chocolate Ovaltine (it's the Thailand formula)...those sweat droplets kicked EMO’s ass and allowed for the fog to finally clear from my poor dilapidated brain.

Score at the end of this round:

Chuck Norris' Chocolate Ovaltine: 1

E.M.O.: 0

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

>

That Red Bull Made Me Horny With A Karate Chop To The Vag.

What a ridiculous waste of hornyness! In lieu of the fact that it was like a blogger sweat shop in here, zero pay and 16 hour days, treating myself to a Red Bull was the best pick me up I could think of (short of going and scoring some crack). 

Red Bull in Thailand is this bubble-less, thick, limp monstrosity; a cousin to motor oil  and a sister to cocaine.

Back in Canada, it’s $2.99 a can but here it’s like $0.25 a can!!

I tend to choke one  back for those kind of savings. I mean it’s like if I don’t have  a Red Bull, I am actually losing money cause of the awesome savings  of $2.74 each time I fuel up.

It not only gives me energy and makes every orifice quiver with delight but it also MAKES me money.

By my calculations, if I drink 10 Red Bulls a day, I will make (thinks really hard) $274.00 a day!!! I could be a little off on the math there, but not by much. This could be the best job I never had!

The lack of bubbles in the Thai formula seems to create a veritable vortex of intense desire that is directly located in my pelvic region.

The key ingredients are one drop of sweat from Chuck Norris’ nut sack and the tears from a remorseful pimp on steroids after beating one of his bitches that hasn’t paid him his money.

It’s like this drink went into a Roid Rage and took it out on all my naughty parts finishing off with a perfect round house kick to my vagina!

Ah! Who needs a man with a drink like this?

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

>