St. LouisI am just your average Witch.
Many of my beliefs come from various places along the Path of what most term as the Occult. Call it Paganism, Kemeticism, Druidism and a lot if 'isms they all make up the beliefs I hold dear.
I am a dreamer of dreams and a seeker of visions. I have spoken to the man in the mountain, and praised the Goddess in the clouds. I was gifted to see pieces of tomorrow and blessed with seeing lifetimes of the past.
My interests are as varied as the wind and as simple as the earth. I am a witch, a descendent of the Fae, and a believer and neighbor to the "Little People" who still reside today.
Say what you will of me, it matters not, for I am a daughter of the Goddess and under her divine protection.
~*~ Iris for wisdom, bluebell for truth, juniper for protection, lemon for youth, eucalyptus for healing, plumeria for love, marigold to divine messages from the Goddess above. A spell that is simple, fragrant and sweet, and will open the hearts of those that you meet! ~*~
So I'm asking myself, after a weekend of reflection, at what point does an actual "internet friendship" begin or end? I mean you have people who you think are your friends that you have met and or interact with on the internet. But the question is, are these people really your friends?
I used to think so. In fact, I used to think that some of the people I considered my closest friends were really my friends IRL, not just internet connections.
These days though, I'm wondering if I am really just a lot more naive than I thought I was. Well, not really wondering, more along the lines of being angry with myself because I am a lot more naive than I thought I was or ever wanted to be.
I know better you see. I know better than to trust people. I know better than to count on people. I know better than to think I can vent or be myself with people because I can't do it with people I see in person, why should I be able to do so with people I interact with online?
So instead of letting these things hurt my feelings, make me cry, make me leave the internet, I think my best bet is to deal with the reality of internet friends =/= irl friends and put the whole thing in the category of people I'm nice too but don't count on for anything.
Now, I need to go find a few warm bodies to convince to be my friend.
Posted at 08:43 am by KharaSiochain
“Making the world a better place is a good thing to do. Everyone needs to have hope once in a while. “ – Quote, random bitch on the internet
“There is no hope, to have hope implies that there is a chance that something can be accomplished.” – Quote, me….
This started a shit storm for me and what was originally a sarcastic remark has become a focal point for me and what is really wrong with this planet.
We’re fucked. Now you can pretty that up as much as you want to but it isn’t going to change what has happened and what is going to happen.
We have used and abused the resources on this planet until they are almost gone. We’ve fought wars over these resources, people have died for the resources. DIED. Yet, for every person who steps up to the plate to say “We need to stop doing this shit” there are thousands who keep right on doing it. Trying to make changes happen on this planet is like trying to put out a wildfire with an eyedropper.
Do I think if humanity made a concerned effort to change things it could happen? Yes I do. Do I think humanity is capable of doing so? NO. I think them incapable of working together for a common goal. I mean honestly, is there anything of real importance that humanity as a majority agrees on?
So how can you feel there is hope for any change? How can one even argue for hope given what you see every single day on the news. Humanity, as a majority, is a selfish lot and they don’t care. For every “feel good” moment out there, there are thousands of moments of abuse, murder, torment and death.
So yes, my response may be circular reasoning (I don’t agree but I might have misread the definition) and yes it may be depressingly negative, and you might even think it is stupid. The problem is, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.
If you think I’m wrong, then make the changes needed to ensure humanity survives and I’ll be more than happy to apologize, until then…. I would suggest you come back to reality and understand that we’re fucked and we’ve done it to ourselves.
I, on the other hand, am researching where the best seat will be to watch it all burn!
Posted at 08:41 am by KharaSiochain
Hey you! Dammit HEY YOU!! Yes you, I’m fucking talking to you. What the fuck? Did somebody pee in your Cheerios? Because goddamn it, you’re acting like a total ass.
It’s time to get your panties out of a wad and get yourself back on track. I understand you’ve not been having the best of time. Guess what? It happens to the best of us. There is every chance my day has sucked just as much, if not more than yours. But do you see me running all over the fucking board ripping everyone a new asshole? No. Because shitting your hate does not mean shitting all over someone to do so.
Did you read that? It’s the main point of this whole rant. Here, I’ll give it to you again.
Shitting your hate does not require shitting all over someone to do so.
You have to let it go. I understand that. The punching bag in my basement understands that. It’s unhealthy and wrong to hold all that hate inside of you. But you have to stop and look at the cause. Now if it is truly that person who you don’t really know who wrote something on an internet forum that you truly hate, then so be it. Call them out and have a knockdown drag out. But do it the right way. Spew your venom, let it out, but keep to the actual point. Don’t drag bullshit from everywhere and anytime else into it. Address the issue and then just fucking move on.
That’s the point of shitting your hate you see. MOVING ON AFTERWARDS!!!! It’s a catalyst to move forward. It’s not skimming the scum off a stagnant pool to jump in and float around in the mire. You have to move on.
So take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Stop and think about that hate rolling in your gullet. No dammit, THINK about it. Take it out, look at it, see how it shines in the light, and see how it shoots sparks. Isn’t it beautiful in a truly terrible way? It practically hypnotizes you. Now put all that terribly beautiful hate down in words. Let it flow. Let it run like a river of lava destroying everything in its path. Let the resulting fires burn that rage until you have a pure flame. Now roast a marshmallow or two and let it go.
LET IT GO!!!
OOK OOK MOTHERFUCKER!!
Posted at 08:39 am by KharaSiochain
I'm tired. I'm tired of being told what to think, how to feel or what pill to take when I don't conform.
I'm tired of watching the world around me fall into the great shithole of stupidity and knowing that while there have been great people in the past, who have set out to achieve change and to try to make things better and actually accomplished those goals, I'm not one of those people. I used to be angry that I let things like that bother me, these days I just want to watch it all burn.
Maybe I should strive to be a world changer and it's quite possible my irritation with myself is over my own apathy rather than my impotence. Maybe I do have the ability to make real changes in the world around me. Maybe I can be the difference I want to see.
Then again, maybe the world isn't as terrible as I think it is and it's my own chaotic life I see going down the shithole. Or maybe I'm sick after a long, cold, snowy winter and I just need a good dose of sunshine.
Or maybe it's just time I stopped letting the monkeys get to me and work harder on enjoying the ride.
I can 'maybe' myself into or out of any situation and in truth don't we all? Don't we all try to justify our activism or lack thereof, do we not all rage for or against The Machine ™ at some time or another.
Do we not 'maybe' ourselves thru the hour, day, week, month…..
Yes there are terrible horrible things happening out there in the world. Yes, if we banned enough together we might actually achieve change. The real question is these days, "Do we want to?"
So here is what I've decided for myself. I'm getting back on that highway and I'm going to drive like there is no tomorrow until there is no tomorrow. I can't fix the world and at this point, I no longer want to try.
But I am damn well going to enjoy its collapse.
So what the fuck are you going to do?
Posted at 03:51 pm by KharaSiochain
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Screw New years Too......
Let me tell you what you can do with that fucking tree….
Yeah I'm talking to you. You know who you are. Every time I pass you on the street you tell me Merry Christmas. Every time I see you in the mall you ask "if I'm finishing up my Christmas shopping?" Every fucking time you are behind me in line at the grocery, you ask "if I've decided on what I'm cooking for Christmas dinner?"
What part of I do not know you have you missed? Why is this season of "peace on earth and goodwill towards men" one which means I have to speak to complete strangers about things I'm already stressing over and be fucking nice too? Do I look like a nice person to you? I'm sorry when did you get your eyes checked last?
Have you been rude to someone during Christmas? You would think I had just dropped a baby off a 20 story building. I mean damn, it is not that serious. I think if I do not initiate a conversation with you, then you should give me the same courtesy. Don't talk to me and I won't make you cry. How hard is that to understand?
I think I'm going to make me a Christmas season shopping t-shirt.
If Jesus is real, he would have been born in March. You are only celebrating this "birthday" in December because a bunch of old farts back in big beard and flip flop season thought they'd convert more heathens if they incorporated the local customs. Hence December stopped being the Winter holiday and became Christmas. Find me in March and tell me Merry Christmas then. I may have calmed down enough to only slap you once!!
Fuck New Years too while I'm at it!
Posted at 08:46 am by KharaSiochain
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
It really wasn’t that hard to figure out. It is one of those things that is so glaringly obvious you just keep on missing it until it smacks you upside the head.
What is this jewel of wisdom you ask…. It is very simple…..
Nothing will make them happy.
You know who they are. There is one or sometimes a few in every type of group you can possibly conceive. And because of them, there will never be a simple solution to anything. Why? Because there is always someone or some group which has to bitch just for the sake of bitching. Those who will find one point out of thousands to nitpick until the whole project gets the shitcan because the arguing has cost more than the actual results would have. And these people are everywhere. You all know one or two personally. You’ve all wanted to smack the shit out of them on more than on occasion
They say they want to be treated like everyone else. They don’t. It’s a lie. They only say that so they look like they are trying to be cooperative. They say that equality is essential. They just don’t mention that it isn’t essential for everyone.
So now we come to the issue of, how the hell do you deal with people like this? I have found a way that has been working for quite a while now. You repeat back to them what they say and make sure you add “Just to clarify” or something along those lines. For example, you present to the PTA a fundraising idea that could bring in a lot of money. Requires no effort on the school’s part. Just the selling of a few raffle tickets… Of course Mrs. Fuckerupper in the front row raises the first objection.
“I don’t think this will work, we’ve never done anything like this before. “
Your response would be…. “Let me clarify Mrs. Fuckerupper, because we’ve never done this before you don’t think this will work, and as a result of that thinking we should just shit can the whole raffle and not try and see how much we can raise. Knowing that other schools in the district have raised $$$ amount?”
See what I mean?
My grandpa used to say “Some people would bitch if they were hung with a new rope” It took me years to realize it didn’t mean they still should be hung no matter what kind of rope was used.
Posted at 08:50 am by KharaSiochain
Friday, September 23, 2011
Nit Picking or Picking Nits?
One of the problems I have found recently in my online life, is that the "group think" cluster fuck which we all wish we could avoid, is in fact alive and well and everywhere we go.
I think this is because we tend to migrate towards those who do think like us. We tend to spend time at places where, for the most part, we are part of a group that we feel we can belong to.
This is quite normal. We are after all just a higher form of pack animal. Like monkeys we prefer social groups to antisocial aloneness. We want to belong, to feel wanted, needed, liked, respected, listened to, even loved.
However, once in these groups, our negative behavior can rear it's ugly head. We no longer pick nits off our companions, we just nit-pick an issue into the ground. If one in the group says something someone doesn't like, the rest of the group will, for the most part, follow the first person to get aggressive. Never stopping to pay attention to the actual situation, people involved, or the accusations being flung like wordshit. It is in fact typical monkey behavior.
Now in a perfect world, these things not only would not happen, but if they did, the group would turn their backs on the aggressor and the one being accused. They would do the "human" thinking of let these monkeys fling their wordshit and beat their chests until one emerges triumphant. Or, they come to a civil, and very human, agreement to disagree.
Unfortunately this rarely, if ever happens. As a result, there are always people who feel they've been turned aside, rejected, thrown away from the group. Now these people have a few options. They can live on the outskirts of the group collecting scraps, taking the idea that attention is attention, whether good or bad. They can leave the group and become solitary. Forging their own path. Living their own life. Or they can join a new group.
What is rarely looked at, is what happens to the group when these holes are left by monkeys who choose one of the latter two options. When the monkey refuses to be satified with second guessing their self worth on a daily basis. Who refuse to collect scraps. Who know their own self worth and take it elsewhere so that it may be appreciated.
See people who know their strengths, their own self worth, however quiet they may be, quickly become part of a group's foundation. They may not be the smartest, or the prettiest or even the nicest. What they are is a strength to everyone around them. They are a bolster to the group as a whole.
When these people leave the group. The holes left behind need one of two things, to be refilled immediately or the monkey who filled them brought back to resume their place. The problem is, the other monkeys have gone in to "group think" mode and have gone beyond human intelligence and are stuck in ook ook overdrive. Because of that, monkeys rarely return to the group. As a result of that, the holes they leave behind tear the group apart a little more day by day.
What you end up with is a group of people who will just as soon turn on their own and eat them as not.
OOK OOK motherfucker!
Posted at 08:52 am by KharaSiochain
Monday, September 19, 2011
Recently, I was accused of making myself a victim. For me, only calling me a liar will get you more hatred. I spent last evening trying to decide if I ever wanted to come online again. Let alone communicate with people who really know nothing about me, yet feel they can judge me. I decided no. I don't want to associate with those people, but I also don't want to lose those who I consider my friends. So I'm going to explain why there are a few things that if you ever say to me or accuse me of, it's for the best for you to never speak to me again afterwards.
The cycle of abuse can be a damn near impossible thing to break free of. People work for years to break the triggers and attachments that lead them back to an abusive relationship.
For many it starts when they are children. In my case, my mother remarried when I was 5. He adopted me when I was 7. When I was 9 my mother found out she could not have any more children. It was within days of that Doctor's appointment that he hit me the first time. That started a childhood of living in my own personal house of horrors.
No, I wasn't locked in a cage or the basement. I wasn't starved or hidden away from society. I was never sexually abused. For a lot of people, to them, that means I just had strict parents. To them I say, fuck you.
My father turned me into his personal anger receptacle. I was told daily how stupid I was, how clumsy, how fat, everything I said was a lie, I was a lying fat piece of shit. It is amazing to me now to remember some of the things he said to me and I wonder sometimes just how much my mind has let me or made me forget. If he came home mad, I hid because I knew the first little thing I did meant I would get smacked into next week. Once, when I was about 12, I remember I didn't vacuum the floor correctly. In my house you could never have vacuum lines in the carpet. The carpet had to look perfectly fluffed. It would take me sometimes hours to get the damn floor the way he liked it because his theory was if once small space was wrong, you re-did the entire thing. I once vacuumed the entire house 17 times before he accepted the job. The same went for dusting. He found a space I had missed on a shelf once and made me re-dust the entire house 3 times to make sure I knew how to do the job right. I digress.
Anyway, I was about 12 when the slaps and spankings became punches. Once I came home late from school. Not thru any fault of my own, the bus was late. I walked in the house and Dad was already home. He immediately started screaming at me because he didn't believe the bus was late. I begged him to call another kid's mom who rode the same bus. He didn't. I hurried to get my chores done so I could get my homework done. When I was unloading the dishwasher the damn dog jumped up on the open door. I had my back turned putting glasses on the shelf so I didn't see her do it. He started screaming at me accusing me of getting the stupid dog to jump up on the door and that when the dishwasher broke he was going to take it out of me. I argued. I couldn't help myself. Mom walked in the door to find me being held by my throat in the air, bleeding and crying and choking.
That was my life until I turned 17 and emancipated myself and went to live with one of my older brothers. I suspected Dad was abusing Mom in my absence but she denied it to the day she died.
I saw him hit her once years later and that was the night he went to jail. He had hit me so hard my left eye socket was shattered. I had 5 different surgeries to fix the damage to my face. That's why, when you se pictures of me, the left side looks 10 years younger. You can't fix anything that broken without getting a bonus face lift. And again I digress as this happened when I was full grown with the kids.
My first husband thought he was going to take up where my Dad left off. He learned quickly though, I guess getting stabbed sends a serious message. He tried for another year and I fought him like a cat. Then I found out I was pregnant. When I was almost 6 months pregnant, he came home, convinced it wasn't his child. He beat the living fuck out of me. That was the last time he did, after losing the baby, I went back to Mom and Dad's from the hospital. I still have a few memory issues because of the head trauma. They also told me I would never have kids, that he had done too much damage to my uterus.
Well, we discovered the hard way that I could indeed have kids when I wound up pregnant with my oldest. Their Dad and I got married. We did our thing. We had three beautiful children together and if nothing else, they are worth every second of living with their Dad. He was always the "bad boy" and that was my problem. I was attracted to men the exact opposite of my father who was an Air Force Colonel. A fine upstanding member of the community don't ya know. Anyway, the kid's Dad was pretty much lazy. He couldn't keep a job long enough to get health benefits. He managed to keep the same job long enough for each maternity leave, but that was it. I don't think he was a year at any job the entire 17 years of our marriage. Well, except prison. He did that real well. He was just your typical stoner. He lived for getting high and fishing. I lived with it because even today, he was the love of my life. I supported us working sometime two, even three jobs.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, his sister introduced him to cocaine. Once he was spazzing for the powder, she introduced him to crack. She kept him high for a week. Immediate addiction. I didn't even realize he was doing the shit until I came home from work one day (I walked the 4 blocks to work every day, the Doctor said it was the best exercise for me) and he had sold my car for fucking crack. I kicked his ass out. He claimed to get straight, I let him come home. About two weeks later I came home and he had cleaned the entire house out. He'd left our clothes on the floor, a few of the kid's toys and some kitchen shit. Everything else of any value was gone. That kept him high for 6 weeks and I didn't see or hear from him the entire time. He came home, DTing like a mofo and begging me to take him back. I was pregnant with our third child. They had just put me on mandatory bed rest the day before. I let him come home, what else could I do?
Our daughter was born with serious complications (to me not her) and when I came home with her, he left. About an hour after he left I hemorrhaged. JW was 5. He tried to call his Dad, then he called my mother and then he called 911. My mom came and picked up the boys right when the ambulance came to take me and the baby back to the hospital. Their Dad showed up the next afternoon. He stayed by my bedside every waking second. It's amazing what guilt will do for you. When they let me go home, he worked really hard to go clean. He made it until December 12th 1999. That night he went on a binge with his sister. See she didn't like getting high alone, so she would give the shit to John until the urge was uncontrollable. He never came home that night. His sister, when I confronted her the next day, went insane and she tried to kill me. I left him that day and we never lived together again.
I had to move back in with Mom and Dad. It was a nightmare. Dad was drinking so much he was rarely more than a raging lunatic when he was home. Mom drank until she passed out. In October of 2003 the big fight occurred, the kids went to my sister's, Dad went to jail, I went to the hospital and Mom bailed Dad out of jail.
When I got out of the hospital after the first two surgeries, we went to a domestic violence shelter. That was the turning point in my life. I learned about a lot of things that I had been raised to keep quiet about. I learned that my father's "strict parenting" was abuse. That my mother's denial was her reaction to the same abuse. I also learned that I could do it on my own. That I was perfectly capable of raising my children without their father or any man. Yes, I had help from the government, but I learned that contrary to how I had been raised, there was no shame in that.
That was 8 years ago. It's taken me this long to have the confidence and self respect that I have today. I have no money. If you sold everything I owned you might get 5 grand. I do however have things that to me are a lot more important. My word, my honor, my pride. Aside from my children, the best way to hurt or anger me is to accuse me of being a liar, of being stupid, of being less than I have worked for years to be. So saying that, I stand proud and I stand strong because contrary to what you may try to do to me, I am nobody's fucking victim. Anyone who thinks or says otherwise, well, for me it just means you are a voice I ignore and a person I despise with every fiber of my being.
I'm not sharing this because I want anyone's sympathy. Do not feel sorry for me. I'm sharing because while my reaction to certain things I know can seem unreasonable, there are very serious reasonings behind it.
Posted at 09:59 am by KharaSiochain
No one is there to hear.....
The descent into madness isn't actually as scary as most people make it out to be. In fact, the fear comes more at the end when you realize you've completely lost your mind, more so that during the process of losing it.
I have these moments quite frequently. My solution, plow thru it and get on with my life. This has always been fairly simple in the past. I've had friends and family to help me thru it and have always emerged, if slightly worse for wear, at least whole.
Recently I've realized that with the death of my parents, I lost my biggest support. I thought I had friends to count on, but I've apparently run them off one by one. My sisters, while completely sympathetic all have their own lives and bullshit to deal with, so I rarely, if ever, involve them in my shit.
So now I come to a point in my life where I really need to have someone out there to talk to, to count on and I find that I have no one.
I'm learning that I really can't be mad, it's my own fault. I'm not a nice person. I'm rude, judgmental, and mouthy. I apparently treat people terribly, though to be truthful on that one, I didn't realize I was or had done so.
I've been told that I'm an attention whore, constantly trying to turn everyone's attention towards me and my petty little problems. Which has left me rather lost and confused because I truly have never tried to be that way. They say what annoys us most in others is what we are, in fact, guilty of ourselves. So maybe I am a complete drama llama. I don't know. I never meant to be.
Now the funny thing is I don't talk to people. I've gotten quite used to having no friends and I never counted on the ones who claimed to be my friends. It's easier when they let you down that way. The only people I have any contact with anymore are online. I have no one locally who I am friends with, at least anymore. I'm still not sure what I did to break those friendships, just that I don't feel I should have to fight for something when I don't know what the problem is to begin with. The few people at work who I thought were my friends, well, I work in an office that people would just as soon stab you in the back as not. They relish in throwing people under the bus. So when You try to avoid all the bullshit, you get slammed anyway, just because.
I know I have something wrong with me. I'm not sure if it's truly mental or maybe just my emotions trying to take over control, because as terrible as I am, it's only those terrible emotions that I allow anyone to see. All I want to do is cry and I never ever cry. But I've given up. If the kids were all in college, I would give up completely, but I promised myself I would see them all in college, so I will.
The problem is I'm to the point of desperation. I really need someone to count on, someone to talk to and I've alienated everyone in my life so that when it's time for me to be the one asking for help, no one is there to hear.
Posted at 10:34 am by KharaSiochain
Frankly I don’t give a ……..
Let’s talk about the south and the “southern belle”. Many people see movies like “Fried Green Tomatoes” or “The Secret’s of the YaYa Sisterhood” and think that is what a modern southern belle is. They couldn’t be farther from the truth.
The south doesn’t want their daughters raised like Scarlett, they want Melanie. Sweet, gentile, compromising, forgiving, enabling, the very picture of southern grace and charm.
Grace and charm…… grace and charm…. sounds like cake ingredients doesn’t it? A pinch of grace and a dash of charm and stir. What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice and everything nice?
And this, these ideas, these archaic beliefs that women are fragile and unable to stand up for themselves, that women are stupid. Where do they come from? Well we all know where they originated, problem is few people realize just how much they are continued in the south. Yes even today.
They teach you that you know. In charm school. And yes it is called charm school. You start when you are in the first grade. The first things they teach you is how to sit, stand, walk, talk, what to do with your hands during any situation, how to shake hands, how never to cross your legs at the knee, but to tuck them to the side crossed at the ankles. Then they move into meals and tables, how to set a table for 1-12 courses, 5 to 500 people. What piece of cutlery goes with what food. When to have finger bowls and when not to. Menus and music for any size event. What to wear and when to wear it because no self respecting southern girl wears white shoes after labor day by god and won’t put on a pair again until Easter Sunday.
Then, starting around 4th grade, they start with the how to be stupid classes. Well not how to be stupid, just how to make everyone around you think you are. Well not everyone, just men. And they tell you it’s to keep the men happy. That way they can feel all big and macho taking care of the “little woman”. You learn how to avert your eyes and laugh a little when asked about something you know damn well how to do, but it’s a man’s job to do it. They teach you how to appear interested in what “the man” is interested in. They give you just enough information on a variety of topics to make you either dangerous or stupid. Then they show you how to turn it to stupid. You learn how to be touchy feely. How to lightly place your hand on the man’s arm or shoulder to keep his attention because men are physical beings you know. As for taking care of your man, well now why do you think we all still cook the way we do? Keep ‘em fat and happy!! (wink wink)
And so many women don’t know how to be strong, or that they are even allowed to be. They are scared and many are miserable and in miserable situations because they don’t have any idea what to do on their own. Mothers and friends will tell a woman with a cheating husband to be “more generous” in the bedroom. They will tell a woman who has been beaten by her spouse to avoid the things that set him off and to make the home a safe, quiet place for him to come home to. If they even hear about the abuse at all because in the south, what happens behind closed doors stays there. God help the person who breaks that sanctity.
I’m not in a position to talk. I didn’t leave the bullshit behind closed doors. My dirty laundry was all over for the world to see. They didn’t actually come and take away my “southern belle tiara” but they may as well have. Nobody and I mean absolutely nobody can do the “shunning” better than the south. Once that door is closed, Robert E. Lee back from the dead couldn’t open it. I’m like that divorced cousin everyone wants at their parties to liven up the party but doesn’t want to stay the night.
And then we come to today. I haven’t lived in the south for a couple of decades but I know they still offer these classes because if nothing else, southerners are serious about their roots and their traditions. There are still cotillions and sweet 16 balls. And because I get a letter every year letting me know that they are still holding a place for my daughter and it’s never too late to start.
But what have these idiotic ideas of how a woman should act, talk, walk, dress, speak affected the women of the south? Well actually it is not as bad as one might think. Why you ask? Because we learned the pretend to be stupid thing really well. Very few realize just how smart we are! And as for my generation, they won’t learn it from us! Because as long as you keep on thinking I’m stupid, I can keep on surprising you!
As for my daughter? Well I keep trying to convince a certain hero of mine to start her own version of “Charm School” that will teach my daughter to kick ass and take names and wear whatever fucking color of shoes she wants year round!
Posted at 08:53 am by KharaSiochain