Part 2 of my summer blog series "Paying It Forward: Like That Kid In That Movie With Keyser Soze And That Chick From Mad About You Who Was Also In That Movie With Bruce Willis Where He Saw Dead People And Bruce Was Dead Too But Nobody Knew Until The End Except Me Cuz I Am A Movie Ending Genius Just Ask The Hub Cuz It Really Annoys Him."

This week my guest blogger is Bevin from PaRANThood. I am one lucky girl to have so many fellow bloggers who will help me keep things rolling in the summer when I am extra spacey and lazy and all that stuff. Read it. Like her pages. Or I'll spork you all.

I'm The Bitch Of The World

Remember that movie "Titanic"?  Well, even if you were doing something more important with your life in the year 1997, like mourning the death of Biggie Smalls, or perfecting the art of collar poppin', and you missed the boat on that movie, I'm sure, at the very least, you're familiar with that famous scene.  

You know... THE SCENE.....   Let me remind you: 

It's the part when that "Home Alone" kid is hella excited to first be on the dumb boat.  He runs up to the front and starts squealing so pre-pubescently high that dolphins jump in to goddamn tunafish cans just to escape it.  He then steps on to the very front part of the boat and spreads his arms out super wide (like how you wish your kid did when you asked them how much they love you but they never fucking do)  and then... he does it... 

With a grin that would make the Kool Aid Pitcher Dude kick rocks, and wind-feathered hair so flaxen gold, it put Farrah Fawcett to shame, he shouts the now iconic phrase: 

"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!!  

And there it is.....

Now, I don't know if that "Saved By The Bell" kid won an Oscar for his part in that movie, and I don't really give a shit, all I DO know is that THAT MOMENT for me, was contagious.  

There was this EXPLOSION of self-confidence, and joy so abundantly flowing from the splayed fingertips of that "Full House" kid that I found myself flinging MY ARMS out too!** 

**This led me to accidentally smash the girl's face seated next to me, which unfortunately resulted in a buttered popcorn brawl, subsequently getting my ass kicked out of the theater altogether and thus preventing me from ever finding out what happened to that stupid boat... 

My point is, I didn't NEED to see anymore of that film because for the five bones I spent on the movie ticket, I walked around with three days worth of dolphin-ear-errupting confidence, periodically shouting "I'M THE BITCH OF THE WORLD!!!" and smashing random folks' faces with flung out arms!  Now, you can't buy THAT kind of happiness even with a million dollars!! 

I tell you, if that "Silver Spoons" kid were here right now, I'd probably make out with him for gifting me with such a spectacular moment.... and then ask to ride that really cool fucking train he's got in his house... that little rich snot nosed shit.

Yeah, like you really need more presents you spoiled bastard.

Since that movie, or the first part at least, I've been trying to figure out ways to recreate the same energy and joy I felt pulse through me fifteen long years ago, and so far I've discovered that although being covered in baby shit is NOT one of them, certain other aspects of babies as well as kids themselves ARE!  

Below is a list of 

Shit That Kids Do, Which Makes My Ass Go ALL TITANIC:

1.  Being born.  What else makes you feel like a Super Hero more then exuding a whole other human body out of your own?!?  You can keep your useless clear jet, Wonder Woman, I have people to create!!!  Guess what Dr. Frankenstein, you didn't actually make anyone dipshit, you just sewed together a bunch of body parts from some preexisting dead people and even THEN you couldn't "make" a person nearly as cute as my fucking creation!!  Yeah, that moment, right after having a baby..... TITANIC.

Aww, he looks just like... like... well, like that fucking dude that died last week....! Not. Cute.

2.  First REAL"I Love You" Hug.  Let's face it.  Babies for the most part, are ungrateful little turds.  Their EXTREME neediness tends to accentuate this, complied with the fact that they're fucking MUTE for quite a while.  Sleepless nights, backbreaking days and more spilled body fluids than a public bathroom.  These times, when you're soaking in sweat and tit milk feel ENDLESS.... even at times useless.

  

"Why why WHY am I doing this?!?!" you shudder... 

"WHAT FOR?!?!" you cry...

Well, that moment when your toddler, oozing with snot and bumbling around bumping in to shit, scales the couch, plops down next to you, wraps their mini-arms 1/4 way around your still baby-weighted body, and in a true Mickey Mouse style voice says loudly: 

"I WUV YOU MOMMY!" IS EXACTLY WHY WE DO THIS SHIT.   

I'm sure you're remembering this moment right now... and smiling... because you know you were all...

TITANIC.

Even a hug and "I love you" from THIS is a TITANIC moment.

3.  Kick Ass Parent/Teacher Meeting.  This is about as far as I got on the list because my kids are still fairly young.  I'm sure more will be added as I trudge through this journey of shit stains, pissed beds and BFFs but for now, this is the last but by far NOT the least of the list.  

Just as #2 is payback for all the baby torture we endure, THIS moment is payback for toddler torture.  You know all those "Please"s and "Thank You"s and "May I"s and "Alphabet Song"s and "Counting Fingers" and "You Have To SHARE!"s and "Clean-Up Song"s and "Wait For Your Turn"s and "Follow Direction"s you repeated so many fucking times you've lost count? Your toddler barely heeds you as they Tasmanian Devil right past your ass destroying room after room.  

You are the 'Rainman of Manners' -- they are your opponent in the ring.  

You are the referee of the playground -- they are in UFC mode.  

You wonder if serial killers are just born that way, or if you are somehow fucking something up... and you just don't know it yet.

They grow a bit, they start school, they challenge you differently.  Not less, just differently...  

You walk in to your first parent/teacher meeting with a hockey mask on ready to deflect insults spit like fucking pucks at your face and then...

"Oh, she's SO GREAT with the other kids!"  

"He's really gotten in to the spirit of helping!"  

"Your child is a wonderful addition to the class!" 

"Whatever you're doing at home, keep it up!"

You cannot BELIEVE it but something you've done must've stuck!

First three thoughts?  

1. You know who I am right??

2. Am I being Punk'd right now?

3. Fucking TITANIC.

For many, this is what we feel like upon entering our first Parent/Teacher conference....

Annnnnnd there you have it folks!  So do some shoulder rolls, because even though they don't happen often, when they do, you wanna be prepared to NOT tear a rotator cuff as you fling out your arms while shouting:

I'M THE BITCH OF THE WORLD!!!!!!!

YEAH!!!

Bevin Fredericks-Waxman is the author of the blog PaRANThood as well as the admin of the Facebook page of the same name.

Click HERE to follow Bevin on Facebook

Click HERE to follow Bevin on her blog

In the summertime I am super busy, lazy, beer drinky, and spacey, so I decided to do a summer blog series titled "Paying It Forward: Like That Kid In That Movie With Keyser Soze And That Chick From Mad About You Who Was Also In That Movie With Bruce Willis Where He Saw Dead People And Bruce Was Dead Too But Nobody Knew That Until The End Except Me Cuz I Am A Movie Ending Genius Just Ask The Hub Cuz It Really Annoys Him."

If you ask me that title was pretty freaking self-explanatory, but in case you are just super daft I will re-explain myself even though I have mucho stuff to do right now that involves real life stuff like grocery shopping and showering and a crap load of other things I really don't wanna do. 

Basically I have decided that since I have extra super focus issues lately, and they are only bound to get worse this summer, AND I also like to promote bloggers that I LOVE to read and LOVE to call my friends, I would post some blogs on my blog this summer to spread the word. Kinda like one of those Hilshire Farms cheese and meat sampler packs that your office gives you for Christmas every year instead of money because offices are selfish assholes. Except in this case you are a tiny meat and cheese addict and you WANT the sampler and you think money is for losers.

I really don't think any of that made any sense at all but (a) I am not giving you guys any money, and (b) I haven't eaten and I still smell stinky from my work-out and I think the fumes are making me stupider than usual. Which, let's face it, is mega-stupid.

Well, that's enough of all that. Without further adieu, here is my first guest blogger. The lovely, talented, perky, bouncy, fun, witty, refreshingly honest Katy Maher from the blog I Want A Dumpster Baby, with a short -but too the point- bloggy message for us all. Enjoy!

Patti very graciously asked me to do a guest blog while she's out running around having fun all over the place this summer.  I'm not nearly as funny as she is, but I said I would try and  I know this is something she and I have in common.  This notion of "don't be a dick, just be nice" is a big one.  

 I take this philosophy  very seriously.  I don't want the negativity in my life, and I don't want it anywhere near people I love.  I take it personally.  It's easy to say, "just be nice" but sometimes that is too simple.  I have ZERO TOLERANCE for all out hate, like against homosexuality, and race and all that "big" stuff, but the little mean shit is where the day to day dicks come out to play.  

You know you're a dick.  Let's all be honest.  Why do you do it?  Because you feel badly about yourself.  Because you are jealous of something you THINK somebody else has that you don't.  It's usually perception, that when broken down will lead you to realize you are not that much different from the person you are trying to put down and make feel shitty. 

I know, because *I* used to be a dick.  Now, I didn't outright offend people, but my sly snarky jealous bitter ways would permeate every part of my life.  It was ugly.  People didn't want to be around me.  I realize that now.  I used to take great pride in saying, I HATE EVERYBODY and PEOPLE SUCK and YOU CAN ALL GO POUND SAND. 

Now, I still believe that humans are terrible in some respects and that animals are better people than humans a good portion of the time.  I include myself in this.  There have been monumental shifts in my perception in the last few years.  I've gotten sober and worked a 12 step program that helps me let go of resentment, which is FUNDAMENTAL in letting go of hate and bitterness.  I've recently been shot up with a shit ton of hormones as we are trying to have a baby.  That makes me incredibly soft and sensitive.  Meaning I cry all the time or I'm cackling like a psychopath - not much in between.  We have this blog and this Facebook page that has exposed me to all kinds of nasty people, but more often than not, THOUSANDS of kick ass, genuinely kind and loving people.  

When I say, "be nice" I don't mean kiss my ass and agree with everything I say.  I just mean show the same respect I show to you.  Disagreements are not a negative thing.  Mostly they are simply ways of getting our opinions out there in a respectful, intelligent way.  

To the nasty ass, bitter people out there, I say, I wish you all the best, but GOODBYE.  Come find me when you want to love and have fun.  Until then, WORK YOUR SHIT OUT.  You know what I'm saying.  Enjoy being a dick and alienating everyone until you are so miserable that you cannot do anything but change your ways or die alone.  I didn't want to die alone.  I need other people.  I love connecting with other humans today and believe them to be good in a lot of ways.  BUT, I will not hesitate to say, YOU SIR, ARE A DICK, MA'AM.  I give a second chance, and then I ban from Facebook, blog and life.  I have no problem with this.  Go ahead, ask people in my life if this is true.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, no fucking way. 

          -Katy Maher
           Follow her on her own blog!
           AND
           Follow her on Facebook!

Patti's Blogging/FB Page Tips. For serious. I swear.

In the past few weeks I have been getting an increasing amount of email asking for my advice on starting your own blogs and/or FB pages. I have answered many individually. I AM DOING MY BEST. But I just cannot get to them all. Even if I did a cut and paste. I don't know where you all came from all of the sudden, but I am overwhelmed! I am, however, super thrilled that so many of you have been asking MY advice. Seriously? What. The. Frick. 

But whatever the reasons, you ARE asking me. And I hope you don't take offense that I am now going to answer the remainder of you with this post, instead of personally. I usually pride myself on answering all of my email. Even when buried in a virtual avalanche of it. Unless you're crazy and ask for pictures of my boobs. But honestly, I HAVE been answering a few of those lately, due to the fact that sometimes people who are so stupid as to ask for pictures of your boobs, forget to add the "your" part and just say "Do you have any boob pictures?" to which I reply "Yes" and send photos of various man boobs or something along those lines. 

Anyway, in this case it just seems easier to write a short list on this here blog-o-mine to answer your questions all at once. I am sure that there are much more seasoned "writers" to ask besides me, however, I DO have a list of things I would like to offer you. This list is just how I choose to roll. Others may disagree. But they are probably morons. 

P.S. That moron thing was a joke. Scratch that "probably" part. They ARE morons.
P.P.S. That was a joke too.

I chose this photo cuz I look all totally thinky and stuff.

Here are my freaking tips:

 1. Be yourself.
 2. Don't make stuff up. Even some of the world's most stupid people can tell when you are full of shit, and if they can't tell then would you really want them as your readers? Some people can take a story about going to the grocery store and make it the funniest thing you have ever read, even if nothing that amazing happened. It's all about how they write. I know a few bloggers like that and they amaze me endlessly. They don't add things to the story to make it more exciting, they just tell the story with exciting language and tell it well.
 3. Don't over embellish the story either. Embellish the language to make the story more exciting, but leave the details as close to the truth as you can. If you can't do that, then make your blog a "fiction" or "Semi-Fictitious" blog. Don't try to pass it off as true life stuff when it's not.
 4. Be yourself.
 5. Don't let negative feedback get you down.
 6. BUT if you get LOTS of negative feedback, try to take a step back and look at things and make sure that you aren't acting like a tool.
 7. Post what YOU like. You will find YOUR people that way.
 8. Be yourself.
 9. Don't try too hard. No over-thinking your FB posts or blog posts. Just let it flow. If it doesn't flow, step away from the computer. Try not to post just to fill space. Post something that means something to you. Even if it's a little tidbit from your day that seems silly at the time. People actually connect to that.
10. Don't worry about "The numbers". Those things come in their own sweet time. Worry about your content. Worry about being open. Worry about being true to yourself and not pretending to be someone else. THE NUMBERS DON'T MATTER. You can have a million Likes on a FB page, and only a hundred people interacting with you. Or you could have 500 likes and nearly all of those interacting and feeling like you are friends. Shoot for that. It's more meaningful. THOSE are the people who will promote you and get to know you and actually care if you went away.
11. Be yourself.
12. Respect your readers. They are there because they like you. Don't fuck that up by being a douche-nugget. 
13. Don't bug other FB pages to "Pimp" you. Interact with other pages if you want to get noticed. Be witty and fun. Include yourself in the conversations on threads. DO NOT over-post on bigger pages looking for attention. The pages know what you are up to and it's annoying to them and sad looking for you. Post on pages you like and just post things that are actually conversational and pertain to what is going on. If you have content that people relate to, your likes and "pimpings" will come with time.  Don't look for shortcuts.
14. Likewise, don't expect your blog to hit it big overnight. I wrote to about 200 people for months, and before I had a blog I just wrote oddball emails to my friends, and then those friends told me to blog, so I listened, but I did so sorta unwillingly considering I am lazy and stuff. Blogging is just writing stuff to your friends on a bigger scale. Pretend you are still writing to you friends and be authentic. Your new followers will come with time. Let it happen organically. If you are good, word spreads. Don't stress it. 
15. Don't write for attention.  Yes, Facebook pages and blogs get attention. But don't make that your main purpose. Write your truth.  Even if it's goofy truth. It doesn't have to be deep, but it does have to be true for people to connect with you. And with personal connection come the loyal fans. If you are a mystery to people, you leave tomorrow and they don't care. You don't have to tell everything about your personal life, either. Perky page? Keep it perky. Just because you blog does not mean that your life is an open book. You don't have to tell EVERYTHING about yourself. But what you DO choose to tell, tell the truth about it.
16. Be yourself.
17. Try to interract. Read all comments. Try to respond when you can. At the very least, click "like" so your readers know that you cared enough to read what they cared enough to write. Get involved in the conversation that YOU started in the first place by posting a status or a picture. Try to answer email. Be available. 
18. Share your limelight. Link other blogs on your blog. On your FB page, promote pages that you like and actually read. Don't promote pages that you don't read. They could be total crap. If you are telling your fans to go to there, make sure that "there" is a good place to be.
19. Try to ignore your stats. They are sooooo up and down. Write what you live. Write what's in your head. Don't worry about your freaking stats. Once you start to write only for attention instead of for fun, you're losing the whole point of writing in the first place. 
20 Be yourself.

-Thank you, Mr. Oscar Wilde

I. Want. This.

This.

This is majestic. 


Don't argue with me.


It's majestic as shit. 


If you don't look at this and weep sugary delicious Kool-Aid tears of happiness, then you and me? We can't be friends. 


Wait. Scratch that whole Kool-Aid thingy. 


Let's make it tears of that awesome syrup that was inside those little wax pop bottles instead. Kool-Aid makes me think of that scary-ass giant pitcher with legs that was always running through walls and busting the crap outta houses and stuff. I don't need that kind of unhinged violence in my life. Plus, Kool-Aid really is kinda nasty. One time my mom bought us Root Beer and Cola flavored Kool-Aid and that stuff was the shittiest stuff ever. Even if you added an entire bag of sugar it was still undrinkable. We even made popsicles out if it in ice trays with little toothpick sticks and tried to sell them to kids in the 'hood to no avail. Even those hungry, parched from the summer sun, ding-dongy kids weren't falling for that BS. Plus, Kool-Aid always makes me think of dead Jesus freaks. And that's kind of a downer. 

Syrup from the Gods.
Much less depressy than dead Jesus freaks.

Anyways...back to that majestic candy bike up there at the top of the page. 


It's like Willy Wonka had an affair with Mr. Huffy and they had a baby. Somehow. I mean, it's totally two dudes having this affair in my head. And two dudes can't make a baby. But I'm pretty sure Wonka was gay in both versions of the movie, so I'm pretty much 110% positive that he didn't do girls. And I don't know nuthin' about Mr. Huffy. There probably isn't even a real Mr. Huffy. I just made that up. But if there was a Mr. Huffy I'm pretty sure he'd be gay. And if he wasn't, he'd probably turn gay after meeting Wonka, cuz HELLO! That dude owns a candy factory that houses thousands of orange midgies and rivers of chocolate, and psychedelic acid trippy boat rides. And if you wouldn't go gay for free candy, LSD trips, and orange midgie slaves that sing, then something' just ain't right with you. Something just ain't right with you at all.


In case you wondered, I kinda want this bike. If by "kinda" we mean with every ounce of desire that I have in my body. Like, as much as I want air in my lungs, Norman Reedus on my bed, and beer in my belly. 


Just take a moment and look at the big freaking cupcake on the back. Do you know what the frick THAT is? Do you know? It's a storage space. Ya know, a place to put a change of clothes, or your phone, or a snack, or your finger monkey, or your Mogwai, or your E.T., or your booze, or the marijuana you're gonna sell. Because let's face it: Selling weed from this thing would be genius. Who would suspect it? Nobody, that's who. And you'd automatically get the attention of every sky high person on your biking route of awesomosity, because you're riding on something that looks like food. And there's nothing that high people like more than food. Except getting more high. So BAM! There's your clientele right there coming to you. 


But that's not what I would do with this bike. No. I just wanna do innocent things, like ride it around my 'hood. Ringing a little bell and singing songs about how awesome I am and how sucky everyone else is on their plain old boring ass bikes. And yeah, those will be kids that I'm showing off to. But I don't care. Kids are show-offy a-holes and we all know it. And just because I'm not "officially" a kid, doesn't mean that I can't play their a-hole games and kick butt at it.


Life's a bitch when you don't have a cupcake candy bike of awesome.

Things I would do with a Nigerian Pygmy Goat

Seriously, you guys. What wouldn't I do with a freakin' Nigerian Pygmy Goat? That's the better question. Am I right? Especially this particular happy, smiley one. But I am going to go the route of listing the things that I WOULD do. Why? Because listing the things that I wouldn't do with a Nigerian Pygmy Goat doesn't really make for a very long blog. And although -truth be told- there isn't enough time in what remains of my life to even possibly begin to to list all of the things that I would do with this fantastical creature, I am going to try my best to list a few because I am a firm believer that if you put something out there into The Universe, The Universe just might hear it and totally decide to be awesome and give you that something that you put out there. Kinda like a vision board, but less dorky Oprah-y and more cool-y Patti-y.

 1)  I would hug him and squeeze him and call him Otto Boomerang. He would be my best friend. Just don't tell my 27 other best friends. Cuz they all think they are my only one. I like to make people feel special. It's super nice of me.

 2)  I would walk him on a leash like a little puppy. But, like, a bazillion times cuter. Cuz DUH! He's a muthaflippin' Nigerian Pygmy Goat! And instead of barking at people he would be all baa baa or hee haw or whatever the heck it is that goats do. But more pygmy-ish and stuff. Kinda like if the producer of those noises had just sucked all the helium out of a balloon. Really cute and midgety sounding like that. And when he would go poops I wouldn't have to pick it up like you do with your dog poops, because goats eat everything, so he would just go poops and then totally eat it. Which would not only save me from doing something gross like having to touch a steaming pile-o-poo with just a thin-ass plastic barrier, but also save me money on buying those damn bags. 

 3)  I would take him to Target Portrait Studio. I mean, duh. Come the frick on! I'd probably take him there before I even brought him home. The girl who works there really enjoys my portrait sessions and would no doubt be willing to squeeze me in at a moments notice. Especially if I showed up with this little piece of cuteness.

 4)  I would have clothing custom made for his adorable little body. He would have some corduroy slacks and a blazer with elbow patches for when he's feeling scholarly. A satin pajama set for when he's in a lounging man sorta mood. Swim trunks and flippers so we could play in the pool together. Some True Religion jeans and an Afflction t-shirt for when he feels like looking like a douchebag. A pair of overalls for those days when he just feels like hanging at the park and being casual. And a nice evening gown for when he accompanies me to the drag bar.

 5)  Although I would be oh so super duper tempted to ride Otto Boomerang, due to his small size, I would try my best to refrain. But since the urge would be mega strong, I would let my Zombie Twins ride him instead. This would be especially nice when I had him out for walks through my neighborhood. The children would love it. The adults would be afraid of me. It's a total win/win.

 6)  I would take him to the park and push him in the baby swing, ride with him down the slide, see-saw our brains out, and teach him to play frisbee better than those show-offy caniney bastards.

 7)  I would take him downtown for a stroll, whereupon seeing his awesome pygmy goatishness, passersby would stop to pet him, and while they were bent over I would pick their pockets. We would go to Sprinkles with the winnings and eat the crap out of some bad ass cupcakes.

 8)  I would organize a parade and make him the Grand Marshall. This parade would consist of kids on bikes and grown women on Cruzin Coolers. Make that drunk grown women.

 9)  I would take him to the zoo so that he could prance around and na-ne-na-ne-boo-boo all the other animals.

10) I would put him in The Hub's place in our Christmas Card photo and see if anyone notices.