Monday, July 25, 2011



This princess has a problem....and it is with GENERATION SLACK ASS………(you all know at least one person from this generation, if not a plethora)

Nut the fuck up peeps, we got to work, and even if you don’t, don’t you want to do something, and if you do something, don’t you want to be fucking good at it……In fact, why do anything, if you ain’t going to do it right.

What is the point of doing anything half-ass...the only thing it does is make more people want to be half-ass too, and that does not help anybody.

I see it in every aspect of my life, and it sucks, it doesn’t make me want to try any harder to improve and get shit done, and lets be honest, I gotta get stuff done, and I always have to improve, cause if I’m not going up, I’m going down and that is the wrong direction (welllllllll, get your mind out of the gutter)

I want a kingdom that encourages me to shine, to do my best, to work my hardest so that I can honestly say, “I DID THE BEST I FUCKING COULD”

Now granted, I am all about rest and vacation, and even though I haven’t really taken a vacation in……………a long ass time, I know for a fact, when I do, I will be the best fucking vacationer I can be. Also, if I can’t rest good, I don’t rest, why waste the precious time.

There is a time and a fucking place for everything.

Let’s start with me...
I like having a great ass and looking good, but if I’m lazy and don’t work out, I feel like shit, I don’t fit into my princess dresses as good as when I butt walk every day, and when my ass gets spanked, the guy doesn’t slap himself in the face with the recoil, what fun is that.

Let’s talk about friendships………
I make a point, even if I do it while butt walking, to call friends I really care about, or shoot them a text, or hit them up on I have time? No....Can I hear anything on the phone?....No, but I make an effort, sometimes I will run myself around for other people, just cause I care. Because friendship is fucking important to me, so I know I have to make an effort. And showing, not just telling people that we care about them, is one of the nicest things that we can do for anyone.

Let’s talk about relationships....
Relationships are a constant effort. Because if you think someone is worth the effort, than you always need to give that effort, and the moment you stop, is the moment that they find someone else, who is willing to give them what you are slacking on, or they realize (or think) that they are better off alone. Cause WE ARE ALL WORTH THE EFFORT………the moment the effort stops, is the moment you loose, or doubt creeps in, and doubt, never is the right direction. (aka, don’t be a half-ass in a relationship, it will not end good, give it 150% all the time, and you will be amazed at the levels it can reach, or just nut up about being a slack ass and be a single one can hate you for being honest)

Let’s just talk about life………
My mom gave me one of the most solid pieces of advice ever in life, when I decided to leave my husband. My dog had died, I suddenly realized how alone and unhappy I was (a story I will tell one day) I headed to my parents house to tell them I wanted a divorce, that I was done………I could hang no longer. My mom looked at me and said, “This is your husband, you are married, if you are really really done, you go back and you give it 150%, you try your fucking hardest, you start with a clean slate and be the best, most loving and kind wife that you can be, you let things go and just love him, give all that you can, and once you have given him that, YOU WILL EITHER SAVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP AND BRING IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL, OR YOU WILL BE PISSED OFF ENOUGH TO LEAVE.” (I trusted her advice...the 38+ years of marriage she has on her side made it’s hard not to believe.)

She told me that in June, I left at the end of December. And I did, give it all that I could, and I really tried to make my marriage work, and I have no regrets about leaving my ex-husband, cause I did everything I could to save my marriage, and in doing that, I found the courage to leave it, to wait, to hold out, until I can one day find someone who gives it 150% all the time.

And ever since I left my ex-husband, that has been my motto in life.... much as I can.

Now granted, I get tired, and annoyed and frustrated, and of course, am human. But I make a constant effort to always give it all I can, and to always surround myself with people that are about doing it right.

Cause people that just do it wrong, just piss me the fuck off…………I will just do it my own damm self.

When I surround myself with generation slack ass, I become a slack ass……………and honey, there ain’t nothing slack about my ass…………totally.

And when I get lost, or get a weird feeling about someone or something, I give it 150% to see which way I should go or what I should believe.

I don’t want to be the person left standing around alone in a house that doesn’t stand, cause I didn’t build it right. I want to be surrounded by my true friends, family and lovers……that I know care about me as much as I care about them.

Cause that just feels GOOD.

And feeling good is awesomeness……times 11.

Remember...There is always ways to improve, and the moment we become stagnant is the moment we stop living.

And why be alive if we aren’t living.


(While I have this great, awesome, silly white girl dance move for this week, it must be saved for the next, because there is a time and place for everything………and only one dance move fits this bill)


This week, whatever you do, do it fucking right, give it all that you can, and if you can’t do something the best you can, don’t do it. Whether it is your work, your friendships, your relationship, or your fucking that shit with 150% behind it. You will find out who and what is important to you. You will find out who is generation slack ass, and who is about building a kingdom. And at the end of the week, one side will be the half asses, and I’ll be smoking a victory bowl with my 150 percenters.

And see how good you fucking feel then.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Blog 35....To Love....(Love Tales....Part 3)

Blog 35...To Love...(Love Tales...Part 3)

If only these weren’t my diaries, maybe I would not have to be so honest.

Shut the front door, I think I’m in love……and it’s wierding me the fuck out a little…(a lot.)

Since leaving my husband two and half years ago, I have been “anti love.” I mean I have tried the whole dating thing, many times. I tried the flings, tried relationships, but it just wasn’t my thing, I wasn’t into it at all. I met some fabulous men (and some true chicken fuckers/chode miesters) but even though some cut the bar, I let none stay...I did let one linger. I wanted my space and my opportunities.

I felt that in a relationship, I would not have my time to shine, to be me, or to be free. That I would never find anyone who would treat me the way I wanted to be treated. Yet I was basing this on my past relationships and dealings with men.

And of course, I needed time to heal.

And my prior relationships not being what I thought “good” to be, was also my responsibility, my ex, while being a total chicken fucker, was not the only one that sabotaged our relationship.

I came into my marriage, with no self-confidence, no direction, and no thoughts of “me” prior experiences with men were mostly painful, and haunt me to this day. When I met my ex, almost 13 years ago, I thought the idea that he wanted to be with me was good enough, and the fact of the matter is, while I am sure I loved him, I don’t know how I could have been in love with him, if I never was in love with myself.

Yet what a difference 13 years make. For the first time that I can remember, I am in love with me, and know I won’t settle for anything that isn’t exactly what or who I want. And know that no matter what, even if I am by myself for the rest of my life, I will entertain the fuck out of me, and be damm happy with it.

The last thing I needed was faith in myself.

Faith that I am making the right decision, and not fear I was making the wrong.

The Fear of making a mistake that lasts me 10 years again, had paralyzed me. Yet am I not the one who talks about how fear is such a waste of time, and in the span of our life time, and what follows, what is 10 years, but a small moment, in the many lives I have to come. And if fear is a waste of my thought process, than as I have also said, I need to start “walking the walk, and not just talking the talk.”

There is a man I have loved for a while now, and who I let linger because I knew in my heart his veracity as a man, his heart, his pureness. From a very early time in our meeting, I knew that I had loved him in a life before and would love him in a life again.

He asked me to learn how to be content, to have faith, to believe in him. Because as much as I believe myself to be positive, when it came to matters of my heart, I could not believe.

But to move forward, to move away from being petrified, I must have faith. And why in the world would I not want to be content. A content person, is the woman who I wish to be.

And while he is no perfect prince, I am no perfect princess.

And yet we love with a love that is more than love. I and my Papi.

So I made a love, to truly love, to let go of the fear, to not be the woman curled in the corner not letting any one in, but to release.

And for the first, ever I think, I am in love.

This man and I, we have seen the imperfections in each other, and yet we still love, we have let each other come to our own conclusions about the other, and we still love. And I feel its depth, its roots starting, the seed has sprouted.

For the first time in my life, I made love, and I am still baffled by it and shocked and shaky (in the good kind of shaky ☺…tee hee hee)...and ohhhhh, how I have been missing out, let me tell you.

I didn’t know a connection like that could exist.

Of course this totally might be contributed to the massive amounts of psychedelics I now take, that one is up for grabs, but hell, what a fucking trip.

And whether this trip lasts for a brief moment in time or spans many life times, for the first time in a long time, I am simply content with the fact that I have learned what this feeling is, for I had no idea.

And no matter what I would do it again, because this is a lesson, so worth learning, and I feel simply privileged.

I don’t even desire a seatbelt for this ride...look out for flying red heads...totally.

I will still probably be shaking when I land.



(this dance move was inspired by a crazy ass crack head, an let me just give you a move for move replay of his dance.)

You have the option of having your butt crack hanging out, this is just how the dude rolls...

Turn to the side, lining up your feet with your shoulders. Grab the golf club with a tight grip, swing your arms and the club back, take a deep breath, and SWING………don’t forget about your follow through. Now shade your eyes so you can watch your ball, man that one went far, keep watching, its still going, shut up...HOLE IN ONE, celebration dance time, oops don’t let the pants drop further...ahhhhhhh, sometimes its to late.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Blog 34.......What defines a Ding Dong?

Blog 34………What defines a Ding Dong?

As a tromped my loaded, but very cute & sparkly ass around the Widespread motherfucking Panic shows this weekend, a thought popped in my head, “There are a lot of freaking ding dongs in this place”....(and I liked it)

Let’s start at the beginning. What defines a Ding Dong?..........

Good Question.

My version of ding dong comes from a friend up in Eugene who taught me the word(s). He is a perfect example. He is a wonderful, kind hearted person who is full of love and good intentions, that being said, he can do or say something stupid from time to time because he is human and shit happens, and we all get loaded. And sometimes when he fucks up or says something that makes you go “huh” he just looks at you and says, “I am such a ding dong” and his wonderful and beautiful lady responses with a, “Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.”

They are a couple of super cute ding dongs, those two.

One of my fondest “ding dong” moments with him was when we were all up in a hotel in Portland. I had passed out early due to ‘left turn’ shots and I guess while I was sleeping, pizza was ordered. Well, I awoke to a trashed hotel room with almost every piece of linen imaginable covered with tomato sauce. As I examined the tornado of sauce on my way to the bathroom, I pondered how I could have slept through such a storm. The bathroom was even more haggard with a piece of pizza in the toilet that someone had eaten all the topping off of. I tried to flush, nothing. I got my shoes on to go to the lobby to pee and ding dong awoke and I asked him what the hell happened last night (just as the ding dong I was sharing a bed with farted in his sleep) Ding dong gave me the look of non-remembrance, and I informed him of the piece of pizza in the toilet.

He than asked me with a sheepish look if someone had eaten the topping off of it……
I gave him the look....
He told me to flush....
I told him I did....
He said “do it again”....
I came out of the bathroom with a “prognosis negative” response....
“Flush again.” Was his answer....

Well obviously this was not the first rodeo that this ding dong had experienced with pizza in the toilet, cause, third time was the charm peeps.

See the thing is, we are all ding dongs, whether we pass out loaded, fart and don’t hear it even though every else does (and smells it) toss half eaten pizza in the toilet and play touch football with the linens to clean our hands, its not anything we meant to do, it just happened....and that is life.

I am a ding dong, I say and do stupid shit all the time, I don’t mean to, but hey, I’m human. And being human and a ding dong, go hand and hand.

I get introduced to a famous musician, and think it is totally someone else, and say the totally wrong thing and they get mad at me, whoops, ding dong move.

I dance stupid white girl dances on the dance floor.

I get so loaded at shows on psychedelics that I can’t really talk and still attempt to………ding dong move, (I can’t really even hear what people are saying at shows which is why I say, “Totally” so much)

Because I have been hurt so much I am scared of love………I need to get over that shit

And you can be a dumb or a smart ding dong…….

Like the dumb ding dong that spilled beer all over my sparkly dress during panic as he was trying to hit on me………

Or me acting like a smart ding dong (can you believe it) remembering that The Fox has floor vents so I grooved over one until my dress was dry, whose thinking bitches.

Then there was the stunned ding dong that pretty much turned, stood and starred at me when I moved upstairs next to him on the balcony, and after five minutes came two inches from my face and as he spit talked told me he “felt my dance moves”…………yeah that totally didn’t weird me out……but we all can act like ding dongs in front of hotties…………and I was wearing the sparkly dress.

And you gotta realize I see some ding fucking dongs in the Tenderloin.

The not thinking hippie chick that walks around barefoot in the Tenderloin....I know, I know, you want to feel the earth, but I just don’t think she gets the layer of pure grossness that is on top of the “tenderloin earth.” And if she saw what I see on a daily basis go on that sidewalk, maybe she would not make that ding dong move.

The crack head that is shaving his legs right in front of my house with the electrical shaver, even though the cord is wrapped around his leg (you got to plug that shit in ding dong)

My friend who is a total ding dong and went into one of the “massage parlors” in the tenderloin actually looking for a real massage....oh that must have been an experience, at least he knew what was up when they asked him about a “happy ending”

A ding dong is a ding dong, and we ding and dong through life, sometimes dinging the right stuff and donging the wrong, but we always bounce back, because we try our best.

I have found the easiest thing to do, it to embrace my inner ding dong, and just roll with it. We all have it inside, we might as well rock it to the best of our abilities……

You ding dong you……wellllllllllll.


(thinking of my friends in Eugene, brought this dance move back to mind, why it took so long I have no idea)

THE SHOPPING CART (and other variations)

CLASSIC SHOPPING CART: Put your hands on the Handle bar and start to push, grabbing items off each side of the shelf and putting them in your cart……don’t forget that from time to time you have to read the ingredients.

THE ANGRY SHOPPING CART: With your hands on the Handle bars walk briskly and angrily through the isles, throwing things in your cart, crap you grabbed the wrong thing, toss it out and slam the right thing in your cart, run over the old lady, you are in a hurry here....

THE MIDGET SHOPPING CART: Yes this is wrong, but fuck it, (please note, this dance is best done on grass or a soft surface) get down on your knees and put your hands on the handle bar and repeat the “classic shopping cart.”

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Blog 33..... A visit with Yoda

Blog 33 …………A visit with Yoda

As I hit the Sherlock and passed the pipe to my friend, he turned to me and said, “We are going to meet Yoda today, I wonder if he lives on the top of a hill with flowers where he sits and writes.”

As we passed the Lazy River Road and reached the final turn we began to ascend to the top of a steep hill, beautiful flowers adorned the house on the peak, my friend turned and said……”I knew it, my vision was correct.”

We all pilled out of the car and as we approached the bottom of the steps, a vision of Althea greeted us, an eloquent beauty from the inside out, a “pureness” dripped off her handshake. As we began to walk up the stairs Yoda peeped his head over the fence, a warm smile, a calming gaze, a vision of light. I felt blinded instantly by not only the veracity of what I was experiencing but also the emanating wonder that poured out of him. I was amazed to “almost” silence (I think it is impossible for me not to say anything)

Ladies and Gentlemen, if I have a light that shines from me, Yoda has a sun that shines from him, and is the source of our light, he has encouraged our growth with his light.

There were points in the afternoon that I had to stable myself in reality, because I had never seen one like this.

Yoda didn’t live in a Palace or a mansion, nothing was opulent, but simply perfect. As you walked into the beautiful home you felt the love that had happened here, the love that would still happen here. A warmth only a true family could build filled this house. It was obvious, They Love Each Other.

And the more of Yoda’s family and friends I met, the more humbled I was. The more “Presence” I experienced.

As I walked the terraced gardens, the smell of clarity was in the air. It Must Have Been the Roses, for it was sweet and divine, and filled my mouth with the taste of synergy.

Now Yoda knew how to eat, as any proper Yoda should. That food was fucking awesomeness times 11, totally. Talk about a spread, shut the front door. (there was also a princess that kept on filling my glass with some serious cocktails)

I felt like I was in the garden of fucking eden.

And as Yoda and his Angel Gabriel’s played by the pool…..I had a High Time taking it all in.

I looked around and made sure I had a mental picture of everything. The house at the top of the hill with mouthwatering views, the family style picnic table, the Scarlet Begonias, the throne chairs, the hill of lush landscapes and swings, the people, the love that they had between each other, it was a lesson on what life should be and could be, if you only let it.

There Comes a Time when, unfortunetly, you have to leave Yoda’s house. If I could only be a guitar hanging on his wall, a new notion of heaven has filled my head.

And as we left, one of my friends said something like, “he has created a life that should be.”

My visit with Yoda changed me……………

Like a Ripple, in still water.


To the right, to the left.

All right, so start by moving to the right, do it twice, now to the left, and repeat. Now lead with your right hand, give it a little twist, and again………move it to the left, shaking down now that hand, repeat...let’s get the legs involved, you know what to do, we be dancing and keeping it balance...whoop whoop bitches.