Fuckity fuck fuck

So tired of trying and not getting anywhere. Marketing is bullshit. Friends are bullshit (mostly). Everything in life is bullshit and I’m fucking tired. When am I supposed to get thick skin? It seems to shed itself once a month. I feel like a lizard that just molted today (and yesterday). I need to find a cold dark cave to veg in for a couple days.


I just want to watch the world burn.

Welcome to Arizona Bay!

Video games not porn

How to make a woman feel inadequate


How to ruin any relationship


How to completely fuck up your kids

All appropriate titles to this post…

Play video games all day making sure you’re not interruptible.

Protected: My life right now

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October can’t come sooner

This house I’ve lived in for two and a half years and had my daughter in is not mine. I get reminded of that constantly.

I don’t work because I’m a stay at home mom. So my money is not my own. I get reminded of that constantly.

When I moved into this house, I was expected to get rid of everything. So everything here is not my own. I get reminded of that constantly.

So, I am left with nothing but the clothes in the closet, my crafting supplies, an outdated computer, a calphalon pan set, a dresser, some knickknacks and a chair and stool set.

I have never felt welcome here and am treated with little respect. I am expected to do everything including stuff that has nothing to do with me. If I don’t do it, my son is expected to.

If I protest, it’s disregarded. If I threaten to leave, it’s disregarded. If I attempt to become independent, it’s squashed and I’m reminded of why my son and I are allowed to live here.

I am expected to take care of this man, this baby and this house and nothing else. If anything else comes first, like my son, it’s squashed.

I don’t like how I’m treated, so I’m leaving. I have no idea where I’m going. I have no idea how to take most of my stuff, but I’m leaving.

Fuck up thing? My youngest son is flying into town on Thursday and I can’t be homeless with him. I will have to stay put for another month until he leaves. Waiting. Wondering. Impatient for October 2nd.

With piss and vinegar

What the fuck is wrong with people? Bullying people into submission is the bees knees? Really? Your life is so meaningless that you have to post death threats and fucked up rumors about someone you don’t know in order to sleep at night.

Or is it that you’re really not getting any sleep and your cranky ass has to take it out on someone.

Fuckin get a life douchebags! (douchebag douchebag douchebag)(obscure Metalocalypse reference)

So, why am I all bent out of shape? Because of a recent post on ittybiz.com.Naomi Dunford is being attacked by a hate group that is seriously threatening her life. And, add this to the already useless Christian douchebags who have launched a smear campaign against her and Dave Navarro. WTF? Do people have so much time on their hands that they have to ruin someone else’s life?

I guess so.

Get your rocks off. Go ahead. I guarantee not one of you will be given the golden ticket at the end of life (for those who care about that) or the amazingness that is true happiness.

Jsyk, true happiness doesn’t come from other peoples misery, no matter how much you think it’s helping them (it’s clearly not and if you think this is any way to get your husband back, you’re delusional). True happiness, the kind that makes you tingle, leaves a permagrin on your face and attracts people to you (whether you like it or not, this happens) comes from helping people and building them up. Breaking people down just ruins your chances at ever going to heaven (dumbass) and keeps you in a constant state of flux, killing you slowly until you have a heart attack while masturbating to dogs fucking in your neighbors yard. That will be the worlds only respite from your vindictive bullshit. Oh praise the day!

So, any way you look at it, your life is a waste as you brought people down with you. Thanks for being awesome. Now to figure out how to get your Internet taken away. Being human, you’re doing it wrong.

disclaimer: this post was edited as it was written in a burst of fiery rage and vehement anger. There may be errors. Fuck off.

Giving up

I have been fighting with myself lately. No. Not in a schizophrenic way. More like a weighing pros and cons over and over kind of way.

I have hit a threshold.

A person can only fight their purpose for so long before they need to just give in and go with the flow. I have fought my purpose to the point of dreaded confusion.

I’m deeply confused.

On one hand, I want financial independence, creative flow and to be able to sell my amazing crafts – whatever I decide to make.

On the other hand, I want to be healthy, happy and guide my offspring to be the best people they possibly can.

Why are these mutually exclusive? Because they interfere with each other constantly. One is always trying to overtake the other. Health loses, selling crafty wares loses, which means financial independence loses, then happiness loses and I’m left struggling to guide my children in a state of deep depression while crocheting feverishly. It doesn’t work.

I have recently assessed the last 34 years and figured out there is one thing I have not tried yet. What is it? Giving up. No really. I’ve made soap, greeting cards, bags, lip balm, baby legs, lace, recycled a small thrift store amount of clothing, upcycled garbage, and created an obscene amount of digital files. Giving up is not in that list (even if I did leave out hundreds of things). I have yet to just give up trying.

Some would say I have tread on because I have a strong entrepreneurial spirit. Some will say I’m tenacious. Yet others will call me crazy, relentless and stubborn. I say that I’m a survivor and that’s what survivors do. Survive.

I’m done surviving.

You’re reading it wrong if you think this a public suicide note. Honestly, that perception is just plain retarded and you’re totally not listening.

I’m going to attempt instead just existing. Existence is just going with the flow and riding the wave like a body surfer. When things come my way, I’ll participate. But I will not pursue that almighty dollar (shit, this is basically just a reminder to myself, so I’m honestly surprised that you’ve read this much). Instead, I will just exist.

I’m financially stable, even though my partner is stingy with the cash. I’m comfortable and have lifestyle that supports being a great mom and awesomely healthy.

Prioritize. I suppose that’s what needs to happen. I’ve been creating for sale for so long, I’m not sure if I know how to do otherwise. I’ll try. What’s the worse that can happen?

Anything worth doing…

… is worth doing well.

It’s a pretty good way to go about things and yet we all struggle with it.

I can’t seem to grasp the one or three things I like to do. I have WAY too many hobbies, interests and ooh shiny!

I’m easily distracted to put it lightly. OR digging a little deeper you can say I have a fear of commitment and tend to avoid responsibility. ouch! That’s some serious mudslinging.

Now, when I say I avoid responsibility, I really mean, not allowing myself to be so successful that I would be held accountable to tasks that I don’t really want to do but responsibility would dictate otherwise. Meh. It’s dirty. It’s mudslinging. And I’m sick of being that way.

A little while ago I wrote down my dream life. It contained many of the things I admire in other people as well as a mastering of the things I do best right now. If only. I am capable of doing these things by themselves but can’t seem to do them concurrently. My life would be so much prettier.

But is that what I really want out of life, to be wrapped up in a presentable package and live a beautiful life? Maybe not. Maybe just comfortable. But what is comfortable for Brooklyne?

I think it has something to do with a loft in a city, a large shower, ovaltine, walking everywhere, jogging in the park and three week vacations. It may even include some volunteer work, one passionate hobby and a few rats to love on.

Ideal lives usually stay that way. Ideals equate to untouchable reality and daydreaming through our current tangible reality.

So, what to do now?

Thinking about where my life is, how I utterly destroy things, how I’m miserable and ugly right now, and how I don’t need pity, help or even comments. I just need to work through this fucked up situation in this fucked up town in this fucked up country. It’s all fucked up!

I scoff at be happy where you’re at. It’s laughable when you’ve had friends get beaten by husbands (to serve and protect) and whole cities destroyed by idiots hired to search for WMD’s. Are they supposed to be happy where they’re at? It’s a bullshit answer by bullshit people who know nothing about living real.

I don’t want to live in my ideal bubble if I end up living detached from reality. But in order for the ideal circumstances to come to fruition, it needs to bring with it an ideal world. Es no possible.

So, if anything worth doing (like life) is worth doing well, and if living in an ideal circumstance requires the ideal world detachment, then it’s not really worth doing. Is it? So that phrase doesn’t apply to generalities.

But what about specifics? I crochet. Been doing it for 25 years. The stitches make or break the quality of a project. If crochet is worth doing, then it’s obviously worth doing well.

Same goes for each bullet point. Even though the grander picture can’t be approached with this model, the smaller parts can be.

Sharing your web address: you’re doing it wrong

Why this bugs the shit out of me, I’ll never know!

When I’m anywhere that people are able to share their web address, I get to see how dumb people really are. Not only with the blatant misuse of quite (meant to be quiet) and the confusing then and than syndrome, but with typo’d web addresses.

A common mistype is http://www.brooklynechaos.wordpress.com.

Now, browsers are smart and they know how to redirect such retarded over typing, but in the end what matters is you look like a complete dolt.

Oh, I know it’s harsh, but you have exactly one chance to make a first impression. This one simple thing can help you and not hinder you. As well as give you four extra characters on twitter. And we all like an extra four letter word!

The correct way to type that is brooklynechaos.wordpress.com.

See? I dropped the www because It’s unnecessary. Brooklynechaos is a sub-domain of wordpress.com. Just like brooklynechaos is also a sub-domain of Etsy. That would be written as brooklynechaos.Etsy.com. NEVER http://www.brooklynechaos.Etsy.com.

What about the http?

Well, if it must be included, this is how it’d look: https://brooklynechaos.wordpress.com or http://brooklynechaos.Etsy.com. (don’t ask me why my autocorrect keeps capitalizing Etsy, it just is)

So, in conclusion, my first impression of people who over-type their web address is that they have no idea what they’re doing and probably still need help wiping their ass. I’d think twice (or thrice) before buying from them and wouldn’t recommend their products for fear of looking stupid by association.

Disclaimer: typo’s happen, consistency is key.

Agro + Bitchfest

For the past week I’ve felt completely invisible. I actually got into a conversation yesterday on twitter, but other than that isolated incident, I’ve gone unnoticed.

I suppose now’s a good time to say whatever the fuck I want, since no one’s listening anyhow. Nah! That’d be counterproductive.

My main issue is on google+. Maybe leaving well enough alone is the best idea. Maybe forgoing social media all together would be best.

My partner would like that. He’s a control-monger enough that he’d get a kick out of that.

Getting butthurt, though, is only a symptom of a million year old problem. Aunt Flo is camped up on the couch and ain’t leaving for a week. Fuckin bitch!

Anyhow, had a ton of things to say this past couple days, just tired of everything. Posting from my phone has gotten irritating. I’ve almost thrown it at the wall a dozen times in the past 3 days. Fucking slow ass piece of shit. Steve Jobs can eat it!