WoW…Really Bitch?


Get a load of a situation I was just thinking about, laughing to myself, with my last roommate in California before I moved to Colorado. First, however, let me catch you up by giving you a run-down of the circumstances leading up to this very interesting, ignorant, and, well…unintelligent conversation with one of my dingy roommates.

So a new girl moved into my douche bag ex roommate David’s old room. You remember David. I shared up through late 2013 about this guy. David, whose chihuahua, Boots, got into a brutal fight with my pit bull, Scooby, after a different roommate forgot to shut the sliding door in his room while I played with Boots, allowing Scooby to enter the house and, well..cause world wars 3, 4, and 5 with Boot. Boot didn’t have much sense. He was wiling to throw himself out there and sacrifice himself, at 15 pounds (wet) and less than a foot tall, bravely going toe-to-toe with Scooby, weighing in at 75 pounds and an above average pit bull at one year old standing at 3 feet tall and about 4 feet long. David was nonetheless not very happy his precious angel (gag me) got into a fight with my bad ass mother fucker and, sadly yet not surprisingly, lost. And lost pretty ferociously. David proceeds to yell at me for a good ten minutes for allowing Scooby to attack Boot, as he’s literally throwing poor Scooby against the wall and acting like my dog was frickin Saddam Hussein, which led to him (thankfully) him giving his notice to our landlord.

So in comes a girl who didn’t work out and left less than a month later, followed by my (eventual) good pal Itzel. Itzel was a young, very pretty young lady of 23 who somehow is able to pay rent on her $500 per month room–the most expensive room in this house–when she works as a bud trimmer for a pot farm. I gotta say Itzel (Izzy, we called her) was a damn good bud trimmer.

Being the nice, caring, and {stupidly} giving and trusting moron that I am, I gave her tons of my clothes: sweaters, cute tops, hoodies, skirts, pants, dresses, shoes even…and she acts like she can barely tolerate me for a five minute conversation. Turns out Izzy has had a terrible habit of coming in the house at all hours of the night (one or two, sometimes even three o’clock in the morning) and she has this other habit. A very rude, inconsiderate habit.
She comes in the house with usually three or four other people, typically a mixture of boys and girls. She walks down the hallway to her room and can you believe that she has the gall to talk in a regular, middle-of-the-day tone of voice? She acts like it’s twelve hours later and perfectly acceptable to walk in and talk loudly and laugh and act like it’s completely normal to wake up the entire house and piss off everyone in it.

So last night we were talking and she asked me about a shirt of hers that somehow, years ago, got caught up in my laundry and without thinking about it, I folded it and put it away. She goes, “That shirt was given to me by someone who died”. It’s very special to me. Oh. Really? Special huh, I’m thinking. It’s four years later, and you’re just now asking about that fucking shirt? No dude, I don’t have it. I have lost everything I own three or four times since then and gotten new things. I don’t have any of my things from California. I’m in another fucking state. Four years later. Four years later.

Are you kidding me?


Reality Check

Life reared its ugly head at me this past week, turning around and coyly winking at me with a snarky grin, but not before rolling it’s eyes at me, almost pathetically chuckling right in my face, as if blatantly  to give me some kind of wake up call. Yep. That’s exactly what it was. A wake up call that I, a 42 year old woman, hadn’t yet realized.

I live in a fairy tale world. 

That is certainly nothing to be proud of. How, you ask, did I come to such a conclusion? Well, it’s simple. Stupid and simple. I have known since the day I moved into my apartment that I would have to move out by the end of September. I knew the time was coming. I thought about it at least once every single day. Yet I hadn’t done all of the things I needed to in order to be set to move. True, there were circumstances which were out of my control. Such as the State of Colorado Department of Motor Vehicles.

I have been in the DMV office at least 15 times in 2 years. I have produced for them just about every document known to man in order to prove my identity in order to get an identification card, and in order to get an ID card for the first time in this State, you have to eat through your left leg and possibly half of your right one. They have a department called exceptions processing, it’s for people who don’t have the documents they need in order to prove their identity to get their ID card or driver’s license. You have to provide at least one document from each of four different categories of documents. For example, you have to provide a document to prove your date of birth, one to show your social security number, one to prove your name, and one to prove your address here in Colorado. You cannot use a document more than one time so for instance, you could use your birth certificate to prove your date of birth and to prove your name, but you can only use a document one time which puts you in a position of having to come up with another document for that category that you probably have never even had before such as a passport.

I have gone so far as to contact the Stateline, Nevada Casino in which I married my soon to be ex-husband in 1997. They said it didn’t adequately “fulfill the requirement for proof of name change” . Really mother fuckers. You specifically told me to get that document. Oh I see, now you’re saying that I need to change my married name back to my maiden name and just use my birth certificate, rather than having to prove how I changed my name. Got it. You all are crazy.

I did, however, get a job. They are patiently waiting for me to get my ID card. I can start the day I get my ID card. Which brings me to how I live in a fairytale world.

First of all, I’m a very positive person. I always try to think the best in every situation and about everyone I meet, regardless of what’s happened to me in the past. In some way I suppose I just believe that something’s going to come along and save the day. That my Prince Charming is always just right around the corner, waiting to come rescue me. Because it’s always happened that way for me, and I guess it spoiled me. Everybody always seems to say, “Oh things will work out” or “Oh I’m sure things will get better soon”. Well I came to literally believe that in every situation. Not to mention, I was in an abusive marriage for a very long time and I got used to him always controlling everything and making all the decisions and taking care of everything. Which led to me sitting back and letting someone else fix everything. It definitely made me realize how much my husband was really not as bad as I thought he was; in fact I would even to so far as to say he was a good husband.

So here I sit. Struggling with uncertainty, frustration and more anxiety than I have ever had in my life, as I scramble to figure out where I’m going to live and how I’m going to eat until I get my ID card.

Reality bites, but hopefully I remember this feeling I have in my stomach at this very moment, and learn from it. But the Princess usually waits in the castle for her Prince, and that’s undoubtedly what I will do. Guess I can’t complain, I like me how I am.

Life Does That Sometimes…

Life is a funny thing, isn’t it? It works in mysterious ways at times. It never fails, life has a way of testing us – of testing our strength and agility. Life gives us these little glimpses into what our life could be like, and for a short while we have everything we want and need, it seems; sometimes these glimpses get ripped away from us, leaving us feeling empty and grieving what could have been but never had a chance. There is one word that adequately describes the disappointment of someone walking into our lives and touching it in such a profound and meaningful way that we wonder how we ever lived life for one day without this person, and that is bittersweet. While the pain of this loss is unbearable, we know there must be a deeper purpose of our having met and while we may not know that purpose for years to come, we are certainly better for having known them.

I met a beautiful man this past week who was, for lack of a better way to put it, the male version of me. We are literally just alike in every conceivable way. The only thing about us which could be considered even remotely negative:  he’s a Pisces while I’m a Gemini, two theoretically ill-suited signs. I definitely don’t believe that however (plus I still need a second opinion 🙂 We are both very passionate, expressive individuals; what we feel, like or care about, we do so wholeheartedly. We wear our hearts on our sleeve and are incredibly sensitive at times, for which we have poor, unhealthy coping skills. We are both highly impulsive, and impulsivity is rarely a good quality to possess. We both absolutely love sex and are (equally) very adventurous and freaky. We’ve been looking for our one true love, soulmate, best friend and partner in crime for as long as we can remember, but just haven’t found that person. We have mistaken the wrong iindividuals who said the right things as being who we wanted, only to realize we were wrong, yet again. We both are very spiritual and place high value on living our lives by a certain set of core principles which we try to incorporate into our daily lives as much as humanly possible. We both are incredibly in touch with ourselves, particularly for how much of a mess our lives are presently. We both always try to see the beauty in the world, to take time to experience that beauty, and never take that beauty for granted – though we take plenty of other things for granted. We know our mistakes, we know we are fucked up people in a lot of ways and that our choices have put us in the predicament we are in, we have no problem admitting that to anyone who asks or takes an interest in us – most of all we have no problem admitting it to ourselves. We are very trusting but even more accepting and nonjudgmental, so much so that it’s a fault – we learn from our mistakes in relationships and friendships but find it difficult to apply the lessons to future relations with people in our lives.

As for love? Love is almost like an enigma to us; we know it exists but for each of us, it exists either on a superficial level or doesn’t exist at all. We always get hurt in relationships and never receive the respect, love, understanding, compassion or acceptance that we deserve. Psychological abuse is a central theme in our relationships and we can’t seem to escape it. We know what we want in a partner but have never been able to find that exact person. When we met, we both somehow knew the other was that person we had been searching all our lives for. Being ill-fated dreamers (otherwise known as a hopeless romantic) makes us quite optimistic, sometimes overly and inappropriately so, where the possibility of love is concerned. All of these qualities led to our trusting the deep and intense feelings we had somewhere inside the core of our being.

It would have been wildly fantastic, successful even, had one major roadblock been removed from the equation entirely: addiction. We are both addicts. We are extreme addicts, actually, meaning when we do something, we do it to the absolute extreme. We push our use to the absolute limits of drug abuse and don’t let anything get in our way. We are often times careless, thoughtless, and irresponsible. While we do care about the people we hurt in the process of our addiction, we make choices not based on what is best for those around us but, what is best for ourselves. We also believe our lives are exactly as they were meant to be presently, that the many trials we are constantly facing have made us stronger and better people, and that our family and friends fail to understand us or even try to understand us for that matter, which has ultimately pushed us away and fostered further poor decision making.

Collectively, he and I are a match made in heaven. I thought I had finally met my one and only. It didn’t matter that our liaison happened so fast nor did it matter that neither of us is in a good situation at the moment. We felt what we felt and we had faith in it. We didn’t want that feeling to end. Who would? Being an ill-fated dreamer actually keeps us happy even though it is a fleeting happiness and we deeply morning the loss of what we thought our lives would be like. We are who we are and we can’t change it, nor would we want to necessarily. We simply continue on this journey hoping to find that lifelong partner we so desperately desire.

Except this is different. I do not want to move on, having only experienced this amazing person for an insignificant period of time. I know my life as well as his life, would be incredibly better because we would be able to put our strengths together and be stronger than ever. Isn’t that what love is all about? I simply yearn for this man and I’m struggling to be okay with his only being temporary. Sure we have our individual problems which right now have effects on our relationship as a whole. But I’m willing to do what I have to do, to make this happen, and to allow this to be successful. I’m not sure this will happen or is even possible, but I will patiently wait in hopes that we get a proper chance to happen.

Thanks for reading!


Things are pretty tough at my house right now. Without going in to detail, let me just point out that there is nothing worse than living with a spouse with whom you are enthralled in a divorce, and the only way you can leave is once you find a job and can afford your own place.

And your kids have to be right smack in the middle of nasty drama. I never had a temper until I married this man. We just know how to push each other’s buttons perfectly but, he pushes mine so well I lose my cool these days so quickly, so easily I’m ashamed but he makes me so angry I can’t control it. Featured Image -- 3260


I don’t know how I’m going to survive until this is over, but I am trying to be strong.

He makes damn sure each day is more miserable than the one before, and he treats me shittier every day than he did day previous. Who can survive a life like that? Someone help me!


Daniel Tosh–Gotta Love Him 

Got Needles?

This post illustrates a petition I started last year on which came to be after I read a shocking and offensive article in Colorado Springs’ The Gazette newspaper, in which the writer discusses the Mayor at that time’s position on the always brought to the floor but always rejected bill, rewritten each time it gets brought before the floor, trying to get a needle exchange program in the City of Colorado Springs, a city boasting nearly 700,000 people. This is my petition:

Continue reading


Hilarious Comedian Newcomer Amy Schumer Slam Dunks Her Roast of Charlie Sheen on Comedy Central

Amy Schumer will have you laughing the entire five minutes. A must see!


The 15 Most Despicable Things a Man Ever Did to Me, Part One

Beautiful and scenic Cheyenne Mountains, outside Colorado Springs, Colorado

The humor in the “Part One” included in the title, will certainly make sense after you’ve read the entire post – and that’s because of one simple fact: what I share here is bad enough. So bad in fact, that you feel horrified at what could possibly take place in Part Two.

Believe it or not, these fifteen incidents all took place within the span of the last two weeks AND (brownie button for you MM, you dog you) by the same crazy mother fucker!

Reader comments, in this case (I hope) 99% or more are going to clearly be negative. Condemning comments about anyone, particularly a man who has in some way disrespected or somehow was abusive to me, are always loved and appreciated. I encourage you all to take a moment to share your thoughts, uncut and uncensored, at the end of this post.

This true story centers on me, my friend DM and his dad who, I have since clearly determined is narcissistic and possibly a sociopath and doesn’t give a crap about anyone but himself. He lies, he manipulates, he twists the truth around and he regularly confuses himself, due to his unstable psyche, temper and anger. To be quite blunt, this man is mean as fuck.

Without further ado, here’s my list of the 15 most despicable things a man ever did to me:

Shit was crazy beginning to end, actually!


  1. Almost ditched me up in the remote, deserted Cheyenne Mountains of Colorado’s El Paso County — not once, not twice, but three times! Thank God for DM, he saved my life for sure. The very first day, I was purposely left in a parking lot for two hours and had no idea whether I would be eventually be picked up or not; I’ll admit, I panicked. 
  2. Forced to break the law, ie, commit theft, a misdemeanor, punishable by 6 months in jail and/or $1,000+ fine, in order to keep food in our mouths, despite the refusal of the tyrannic dictator hypocrite to “have any part of that bullshit”..yet we sure had to provide food for his dumb ass.
  3. Being driven up to Garden of the Gods and dropped off in a random spot (you will understand, once you ask my friend Google what Garden of the Gods is, why doing so would be despicable), and left for 8-9 hours without any food, water, means of communication or money. But guess what? Nothing but humor, laughter and ridicule occupied our time, as we kissed and rolled around in the 90 degree heat, weeds under us, sick as hell, hungry, thirsty, tired, emotions high…but enjoying each other. Joke’s on you, mother fucker.
  4. Given a 1/3 portion of a 7-Eleven regular hot dog to eat for dinner, and then apologized to for “there not being more, but I’m broke”. Wait. Didn’t you just get your $1,200 disability check today? I’d have rather you not bought anything; a one-third portion of a delicious hot dog is more of a slap in the face when you have a grand in your account.
  5. Had my belongings slowly and surely taken away from me, ripped out of my possession one by one, including my brand new pair of glasses which allow me to see without double vision, along with my private, personal journals. Yeah. Sick mother fucker. Try to blame JMT. JMT I know you don’t have a heart of coal and ice like your big brother. Maybe you do, nothing would surprise me.
  6. Dropped off at a laundry mat in the morning before breakfast, instructed to wash, dry, and fold all the laundry, with the promise of being picked up in 90 minutes. Nearly five hours later the tweakin paranoid-schizophrenic bastard returns, smirk on his smug little this time DM and I didn’t let him see our anger. We wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
  7. Openly shared with the other unfortunate but adorable as fuck passenger, DM, that he wanted to, and I quote (spoken in true heroin, methamphetamine, crack, alcohol and Klonipin abusing addict’s fashion:  “…I may go to g’mas hose and get J to show me her titties and get down to her undies and shake that ass like a true whore. Go try to eat that chicks pussy and treat her like a cum sucking ass fucking whore. I,ll give it a shot or at least get a massage & maybe get to suck them titties. If i do, im gonna bite her deep and use her as rough as i can. Just so she remembers the time i dreamed i fucked her like a madman in a dark alley. Either she deserves it , needs it, or wants it. That or you let me set it up where she will agree to fuck you when & where i want. Trust me. I wanna see what that pussy looks like and if she swallows, takes it up the ass, sucks a mean cock, or likes to b gang banged..either way she’s fucked and I’m fuckin.” ~ WHOA, WHAT A KEEPER THIS 5’2″ TALL LITTLE MAN IS, AM I RIGHT?                                                                                           ** If you’d like to reach him with a direct message, post here and I will forward to him, even sick twisted psychotic mother fuckers deserve their privacy, much to my disdain..
  8. This crazy lunatic didn’t give one good gosh darn what DM or I wanted, we were disposable in his eyes, and he repeatedly reminded us that. He didn’t know but we laughed at him behind his crippled back..
  9. Became irate during a friendly debate (let’s be real here, nothing with this crazy fuck is friendly) about religion, more specifically, Christianity. Yes I readily admit without shame that my friend and I took pleasure in pushing this sorry dude’s buttons, but with unintended results..he told us to “get the fuck out of {my} car” and proceeded to pop trunk, tossing each of my bags, my sleeping bag, my friend’s and my pillows and blankets, and my purse out of the car, on to a hillside in remote Cheyenne Mountains by the zoo. He was gone quite some time, until Zoo security had a little chat with him.
  10. This crazy, angry, self-loathing mother fucker decided to drive up to the top of Cheyenne Mountain the night after the zoo incident, and wanted to go on a gold mine tour–at dusk. With improper shoes and clothing. I brought this to his sorry attention, very annoyed, and he only said, “Oh yeah, huh?” Stupid. Then he refused to go to a civilized campground, on account of his “trying to get rid of Jen“. So we spent $15 on a parking spot on gravel in some asshole’s yard (remember now, we split a regular size hot dog from 7-Eleven, THREE WAYS the previous night–didn’t eat at all the night I’m describing–and my friend and I, in a desperate effort to escape this man’s negative, toxic, miserable attitude, slept out on the gravel and moist, lumpy ground, cuddling and laughing while quietly sharing our horrible fucking misery. As we got out of the car to set up our rocky bed on the gravel parking area not taken up by his rundown, ugly car, this asshole says, “Don’t do it DM, don’t do it!” I believe DM and I exchanged glances of pride as we slammed our doors at the exact same time, silencing the sound of “wa-wa-wa-wa” we heard coming out of his lips as we gazed lovingly into one another’s eyes.
  11. Told me straight up, after I humbly apologized for the disagreement the night of the zoo incident (despite my adamant disgust in his behavior), that “you need to learn a more productive and mature way of making requests”… what the fuck are you talking about crazy psycho dude? I felt the heat go to my face as I held back my arm from swinging and popping his fuckin eye. Lucky mother fucker that I care so much for his son. There’s a reason for the family joke referring to him as sperm donor. My nickname for him? Sperm donor mother fucker. Befitting.
  12. Enjoyed having me be his errand girl as he degraded and demeaned me constantly. Made me steal a plumbing unit so DM could then use a found Lowe’s receipt to return it. I got caught on the way out (security tag) but calmly walked to car, and made it. DM wasn’t unsuccessful, as my theft put an alert in the computer. Receipt didn’t matter. DM and I spent an additional six hours or more that day collecting throw away store receipts in a big supermarket shopping center and going in each store to steal items on receipt. Fuckin jerk-off needed gas and by god, in exchange for 2/3 of a crummy hot dog, DM and I were compelled to spend six hours out in the 90 degree Colorado Springs heat, committing multiple criminal acts, so that we could repay his dad for the hot dog bite with gas for his car, which he drove around aimlessly back and forth, every single mother fucking day, from Cheyenne Mountains to Pueblo to Fountain to Manitou to Colorado Springs, and any number of asinine idiotic routes in between which no one else other than this idiot would even consider taking.
  13. Stole my sole pair of tennis shoes, leaving me to suffer every night out in the cold wearing a pair of cheap Walmart flip-flops. Ass clown. Horrible curses have been forever put in your heart and soul. Eat that.
  14. Completely disapproved, he claimed, of any criminal behavior; however, he hinted daily that we should enter Wal-Mart and steal cases of beer for our [his] drinking enjoyment. How dumb we were, though kind of wore out and feeling the need to survive against the terrifying and horrible circumstances we continued to find ourselves in day after day. Chalk it up as a learning experience. Oh yeah, duh..narcissistic and self-centered. I’ve known two mother fuckers like this in Colorado Springs. Sick.
  15. Last but not least, the one you’ve all been waiting for. Our last night together, the same day this crazy idiot picked up a bottle of 60 clonazepam (klonipin) from his pharmacy, he waits until DM and I are asleep in the backseat, no seatbelts on, while DM’s precious Labrador pit bull slept in front, proceeds to do the following, at two o’clock in the morning: takes over 30 klonipin pills, smokes three giant hand-rolled fatties and starts the car, heading down Hwy 27 even further away from civilization, and within two minutes he drives up a rock embankment and flips the car three times, landing upside down. I was conscious during the entire traumatic accident. Transmission fluid and gas leaking everywhere, I immediately screamed everyone’s name to make sure all were okay. DM and I quickly got everyone’s belongings gathered up and placed them neatly away from the vehicle, now a mangled, twisted, smoking and horrible smelling pile of tin, seeming very close to exploding, and guess what stupid mother fucker proceeds to do?

Orders me and DM to “go for help”..really mother fucker? You wrecked this car and almost killed us out in the middle of fucking nowhere, 20 miles away from the nearest town of Cripple Creek: Population 25 and no gas station, and you want us to go find help. I told him. You go find help, you fucking did this. He left, heading east rather than west. Six hours later one driver happened upon DM, San D and myself, sleeping in the middle of the road near our belongings,  and got the Colorado State Patrol and Teller County Police. Moron of the Century found his way back and was immediately arrested for being intoxicated and reckless driving (he…hehe…). 

Needless to say it was one of the worst two weeks of my life. But I survived. 

Thanks for reading, please post your comments below!