Have you ever felt...trapped? Trapped by yourself, trapped by others, trapped by your circumstances, trapped by your fears and your inhibitions, trapped by nothing that you didn't create for yourself to begin with? I feel fucking trapped. And I can finally at least say it or write it "out loud" without giving a damn about… Continue reading The Little Worker Bee That Could
Let's not even beat around the bush here. I've got a rant. And I'm all giddy and flusterfucked about it....yet at the same time, not really. An odd concoction of emotions, right?! But also? There needs to be some tangy, fruity alcoholic drink named The Giddy Flusterfuck or just, The Ely. That'll get you drunk… Continue reading Left Boob Bitchings: The Sequel
These past few weeks. Man. Guys. Ladies? Children of all ages? (Here the fuck we go...let the circus of words begin!) I Just have to tell you. But first I just have to tell you that this isn't a rap song or a poem. I'm just pacing myself here so that I can somehow try… Continue reading Hello Emotional Instability?… It’s Me… Ely. I Miss You.
This past weekend was a surprisingly relaxed and down-to-Earth, backyard-BBQ-with-the-fam, rollerblade around the block with the kids, and just chill type of weekend. No cake orders. No devices, overly needy children nor alarms to wake me up in the mornings. No impossible house chores to tackle. Seriously. It was just- a stand-up, exemplary, suit-wearing, chivalrous… Continue reading Bleach Happens
Dear Santa; Sigh. Level with me jolly old man. Pull up a chair. Get comfy. It's the most wonderful time of the year. Treat yo-self. Here...have a freshly purchased Walmart cookie with all the merry green and joyful red sprinkles and a hot cup of microwaved instant hot chocolate with extra tiny little marshmallows (I… Continue reading A Not-So-Merry Message For The Fat King of The North
It was my second grade year. Banyan Elementary School. I still live close by and it never fails- the tiny little blondish see-through hairs on my arms stand up every time I pass the small school yard that once seemed to stretch further than the Pacific Ocean. And every single time, I think of that… Continue reading The Lonely Rose: The Birth of A Writer
For the past few weeks I've been digging deep for more light-hearted, funnier-ish, look-at-me-I'm-not-always-a-dark-sociopath content. Besides the two victims whom I wished explosive diarrhea upon (I'm sure it was justified), I think I've been doing ok-ish. Give me some credit. It's so tough. It's tough trying to aim for this positive, bright, encouraging, forever-witty, entertaining… Continue reading Lost, Frightened Puppy. Does Not Understand SEO’s or Adwords.
Dearest Mrs Ms. (...there's no way anyone on this planet in their right mind could ever possibly marry such a moron. Then again someone married Trump) Cunty-Cutter-in-a-Camry; Oh hi! 'Member me? Oh silly me. Where have my manners gone?! Of course ya don't Cunty! We haven't actually been formally introduced! Well.. I know who you… Continue reading Little Letters To Astronomical Assholes: Cunty-Cutter-In-A-Camry
It's Thirsty Thursday ya'll! Who's thirsty for a rant?! [Confession] I admit it. I just made this Thursday thing up in light of my horrid time management skills because this post was supposed to be ready for WTF is on yo mind Wednesday but that clearly didn't happen and rants can't just marinate on the… Continue reading Thirsty-For-A-Rant-Thursday: A Biblical Boob Bitching
When I was pregnant with my son, I felt like I was floating on a marshmallow cloud of motherly bliss. I had already been blessed with my perfect little princess and I also had a beautiful stepdaughter but I wanted my handsome little prince more than anything I had ever wanted in my life. Life… Continue reading In Which I Consider Selling My Son To The Black Market