I'm back with some Style!

So even though I haven't blogged in about 5 months, some awesome person has given me an incentive to write again as I was emailed that I am now the proud owner of some fucking award that means absolutely nothing to me but still made me feel good to receive it because that is just how shallow I truly am! 

Yet I do feel entitled to it because I am totally stylish with my potty mouth and excessive abuse of swear words. Making words like 'Shmegma, Quiff and Beastiality' sound stylish, sure is hard work and therefore I accept this award! So thanks to you 'Clocks Declaring ' for honouring me with the 'Stylish Blogger Award' and for getting me back on the horse ( this is my segue to the last paragraph of this blog post, just so you know that this post does in fact have continuity in a graceless sort of way...that's right, I am all about Style now people, you may hold your applause until after the break). 

Also to all of you who bitched and whined for me to come back, all 2 of you...here it is...the post you have all been waiting for...trust me, this post is like Jar Jar Binks in the Phantom Menace...irritating, pointless and utterly uncreative.

Life in my end of the world is really really good...and when things are really really good, I don't feel like writing...must be that tortured artist mentality either that or the comedy writing team that took up residence in my brain is still on lunch 5 months later...and I forgot to fire them and hire new ones...man, where do I find a sweet job like that?

So trying to write when I am happy and satiated is like trying to give birth when you aren't even pregnant...nothing can be created except maybe a quiff or two...and PUSH! One more, come on, push that blog post out! Ah congratulations, it's a pussy fart with all 10 fingers and toes!

Mostly, my "happy writing" looks like I ate a bunch of Skittles and washed them down with purple Koolaide and then regurgitated it all over the page...sure it's colourful but there isn't much substance to it. 

Hey so remember way way back at the beginning of this post I spoke about a horse??? Well, I will leave you with this deep thought I just had about them...

'Fuck you and the horse you rode in on' is quite a saying!!
I often wonder what it really means…like if you say that to someone, does that mean you want to fuck a horse?
Or does it me you would like to have a threesome with the horse and its rider?
Or is it a really obvious way to indicate to other people that you have in fact forgotten to take your Meds because most people generally don’t ride horses around town anymore unless they are rich or possibly a part time Rodeo clown...and if you are in fact off your Meds and seeing Rodeo Clowns you should probably call 911...but I digress..

Whenever I hear someone say 'fuck you and the horse you rode in on' I think of how it surely must have originated...some cowboy with road rage is behind another cowboy who is being a dick by riding slow and not letting Ol' John Boy pass...as they both finally arrive at the saloon the second cowboy tilts his hat and says 'howdy partner' with a smug look on his face that says he knew what a dick he was being and then the Ol' John Boy just loses it and is all like 'I challenge you to a duel Pilgrim' and in some kind of word miracle the other cowboy pulls that amazing one liner from thin air....The first cowboy ever in the history of the world, to use that line!
I like to believe that Ol' John Boy just tilted his hat and said touche and then they all slapped their knees, bought each other a beer while firing their guns in the air and pissing in their pants because of the hilarity of that quick witted comeback ….but we all know the inevitable outcome of saying something like that back then was the second cowboy getting shot in the face...cowboys were killed for much much less back then.

I guess upgrading that saying isn't really as much fun, as 'Fuck you and the porshe you rode in on'... it doesn't have the same ring to it....because fucking a horse is really quite taboo, even in this day and age ...it's not yet something you can casually bring up at Thanksgiving Dinner...at least in most Countries. Although 'fuck you and the Retard you rode in on' could be even more offensive because nobody ever admits to fucking a retard or a horse :o)
Plus that just screams classy all over it doesn't it?

So, until next time everyone, fuck you and the Horse and/or Retard you rode in on :o)
Thanks for reading
Love Patricia

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

 

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I Wanted To Somehow Mention Jeff Goldblum In This Post But I Lacked The Creative Ability To Do So!

I was at work today, in my little registration hut just outside the yoga hall, feeling anything but Zen because of a certain flying insect that felt the need to swarm my head all morning.

I was trying to figure out why flies irritate me so much when it occurred to me, that flies tend land on and hover around only a few things: The starving 3rd world children, The Rotting Corpses, The garbage  and The Fecal Matter.

So, when a fly lands on me, I take it personally! To me, it’s as if the fly is deliberately insulting me with its presence. Like it’s trying to tell me something…Leaving me to wonder if I am a rotting corpse, or stinking like garbage or have somehow become a hungry third world child or maybe it’s trying to remind me of what a huge pile of shit I am…either way, it’s annoying and my self esteem plummets when they won’t leave me alone.

All morning long, this damn fly was flittering around my head. At first I would just brush it away and try to send peaceful thoughts its way but after like an hour, each time it came close to my head,  I was all ‘oh no you didn’t’ (neck attitude included) cause today is not the day to remind me of what a piece of shit I am. 

I began cursing at the top of my lungs and getting more and more annoyed while others became more and more amused of just how intensely focused I was at capturing and executing this little fucker.

So every time I got a glimpse of this annoying insect in my peripheral vision, I attacked the air like I was Luke fighting against the federation wielding my invisible light saber as I yelled profanities and Star Wars quips just to make it fun (I am pretty sure this is how ‘normal’ people get locked away for a brief period of time) *making Darth Vader like breathing sounds* Fly: ‘Patricia, I am your father’  Me: (best adam sandler impression ever! Think Happy Gilmore meets Billy Madison) “You’re gonna dieeee  flyyyyy!” Laser battle commences...cue the awesome lightsaber sounds *whhuuuummm, whhhuuummmm*

I was staring at the computer screen, trying to finish up some work when I saw him out of my peripheral, my back arched like a cat ready to pounce I stayed very still didn’t move a muscle…eyes focused straight …I was trying to trick the fly into believing I hadn’t seen him see? I was trying to show him I was still working see? oh yes I was being very very sneaky indeed… this was it…but as soon as I moved my eyes to the right it zipped out of my sight again! GOD Damn it!

I immediately took on Axl Rose’s persona as I shrilly said,  “You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby!!! And your gonna DIIIEEEEE!” 

The people at the nearby restaurant were super impressed! They had breakfast and a free show!

My face contorted into some sort of golemnesque mask as I slowly wiped at  the area where the fly had touched me hissing ‘My precious. He wants the precious. Always he is looking for it.  But we mustn't let him have it.'

Man, was this fly fast! Seriously this fly had nothing on speedy Gonzales. Like maybe if you combined Speedy Gonzales with the Roadrunner and sprinkled some PCP over their heads and gave them one of those brooms from Harry Potter, maybe then they could compare to the lightning fast ways of this fly. Every single time I went to look at it and capture it, it moved out of my line of vision! It was like it knew if I got one direct look at it I would surely be able to end it’s annoying little life. This fly had the fucking Vulcan Mind Meld on me I swear! My mind to your mind Your mind to my mind ( I am such a geek to know this oh lord!)

I now am fully understanding of why cats will spend several hours chasing one flying insect…it’s not for the sheer joy and pleasure of it but because they are so fucking annoyed and must get even with the flying critter. There is some sort of twisted satisfaction you get out of killing an irritating insect.

I went back to my work and he showed up again but as soon as I moved my eyes he high tailed it away from me again!

I was hysterically livid …and then it struck me…um Trish, lets think about this for a moment… flies don’t have a brain large enough to conspire to irritate you nor do they have the ability to Vulcan mind melt with you…I nodded my head in agreement with myself…plus you have never once got a good look at this ‘fly’ right? So I moved my eyes quickly to the right and sure enough I saw my ‘fly’ again.

I took a look in a mirror and saw that it was actually a tiny mosquito that I somehow managed to annihilate with my amazing killer blinking abilities (now those are some mad skills right there, like some bad assed Karate Kid shit right there! Daniel-son aint got nothing on me, wax on, wax off!)

Its nasty carcass was resting right on my eyeball! I mean my eye was a little scratchy but I just figured it was a broken blood vessel or something from the lack of sleep I had the night before.   How fucked up is that? All that time, energy and terrible celebrity impressions,  trying to get even with something that I already had masterfully killed…I think a big DOH! is in order here! Like I should get a big wad of DOH for being so retarded (or maybe a 'special' helmet).

The Winner after this round: ME !!! So Suck it, Mosquito!

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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