WTF Friday: vol 12

In my wanderings among the interwebz today, this jumped out at me:

Dad ‘fuming’ at baby’s toy that looks like a ‘big pink penis’

Now, I’m very familiar with toy designs that can turn out a bit…. suggestive

Is that a straw, or are you just happy to see me?

So of course, I clicked on the story immediately, you know, for science. Apparently, this baby was given a set of teething toys as a gift, and Dad freaked the fuck out and took one of them away from her, because he said it looked like she had a wang in her mouth. Fortunately, the story included a picture of the offending toy, unfortunately it looks like this

sketchy?

Are you kidding me right now dude? The problem here isn’t the toy. It’s a perfectly normal toy. The problem is you. To get so worked up that you snatched a toy away from your infant daughter, and ranted to a news site about it, because you have a dirty mind, is batshit fucking crazy.

Is he going to be one of those fathers who won’t allow his daughter to eat things like ice cream cones and bananas when she reaches toddlerhood, because it’s too phallic? Calm down dude, you have a really long way to go, and plenty of actual things to worry about.

What do you think Dissy?

Well, I think we would have made this connection ourselves if we had seen this toy without the related article attached. You know very well that, on “drunk in Dissy’s kitchen” night, we could have come across this on some random website and we would have laughed our asses off. Don’t deny it. You KNOW we would. Especially the upside down picture.

It does look kind of like a dong. Not enough to make me take it away from my kid, but definitely enough to make me giggle for a few minutes.

I’m not even sure I’d report this to the news either because then they may take it off the market, and then I couldn’t buy it for shower gifts.

But… wait… this is a teething toy?? Why the fuck are we giving babies cloth to chomp on? Does formula not have enough fiber? I mean, last I checked, babies aren’t lacking in the poop department… Furthermore… How gross is it to find a soggy toy lying around? Just… ewww…

Anyhow, I think dad isn’t having the proper amount of fun with this. He kind of has a stick up his ass, and he’s reminding me of my ex, who, back in the ’90s refused to let me play Elton John and George Michael’s remake of “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” in front of Tony.

Why? I’m so glad you asked.

Because he was (and probably still is) an idiot who thought they were saying “Don’t Let Your Son Go Down On Me,” and, in his overblown idiotic opinion, this was pedophilia.

I mean, Barb, we are GenX’ers. If there is perversion (the harmless kind (and, yes, there is such a thing)) or innuendo to be found, we, the generation who never quite grew up, are going to find it. It’s just a matter of what we do with the generally filthy minds we possess. It’s one thing for us adults to notice these things and giggle about them amongst each other. It’s quite another for us to project those upon our children. I feel like this is what makes dad a little over the edge here.

I feel like he can stick the dong toy up his ass. Not because he noticed, but because of how he acted about it. Handing your child an actual vibrator to chew on is inappropriate (at the bare minimun). Noticing that your child’s toy vaguely resembles something and that something causing fits of giggling between yourself and your ADULT friends? That’s something else entirely. Especially since I’m certain the last intention of the toy makers was to send this out into the market. pfft… dude… get a clue.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

I’m Fine. Why Do You Ask?

I’m currently sitting at work, waiting for a call from my mechanic, to tell me what’s wrong with my car and how much repairs are going to cost. Again.

I don’t think I trust this mechanic. His hands are too clean.

I’m not exactly surprised – the car is 17 years old, and shit happens when your car is practically old enough to vote. This, of course, doesn’t make it any more pleasant to shell out a ton of money on what-the-fuck-ever is jacked up THIS time.

So why not get another car? I hear you asking.

Well, that brings us to last night, and me sobbing, uncontrollably, to Jay.

See, I’m in my mid-40s, and I have never, even once in my life, decided on a car I’d like to have and then went and bought it. Every vehicle I have ever owned or driven, including the current one, has been the result of taking what I could get at the time.

A while back, though, I made up my mind that I was going to set up a plan, and I was
getting what I really wanted next time.

Since the age of 16, I have really, really wanted a Jeep. Originally, my teenage heart was set on a Wrangler, but adult me has decided on a Patriot.

No, Sam. Just… no.

With all the redesigns Jeeps have had, most of the lineup looks like every other SUV on the road these days, and the Wrangler and Patriot are pretty much the only ones left that still look like Jeeps, but the Patriot is about half the price.

And I do NOT want a $500 a month car payment.

Just writing that makes me shudder.

Anyway, plan is in place, and things are trucking along in the right direction. Until a couple days ago, when I’ve suddenly got a rough idle out of nowhere, in the aforementioned 17-year-old Saturn, and we come to the conclusion last night that yeah, we have to get this checked out.

And since my brain hates me, it set up a lovely anxiety spiral, where in a
matter of minutes I had myself convinced the repair was going to be way more than we can afford, which means getting rid of the car and finding something else before we’re ready, which means getting what I actually want for the first time in my life is out the window, which lead to the aforementioned hysterical crying, while I told Jay I am never going to have anything and I was stupid and selfish for ever thinking otherwise.

So that was dramatic. (ummmm… yeah? xoxo Dissy)

Thank the Goddess I have Jay, and he has figured out how to talk me through moments like these.

Don’t get me wrong… my mechanic is a great guy. He’s fair, honest, and has never charged me more than what was reasonable for whatever needed to be done. My car just likes to break in the most expensive ways it can think of.

So here I sit, doing the same things I do every workday and waiting for the phone
to ring.

ugh.

BARBARA:

STOP it. We just did all that yoga. Find your peace, sista.

XOXO,
Dissy

Until Next Time…

P.S. Just so you all know, Barb’s car repairs were reasonable, and she is able to keep on track to her goals. She is not going to die of a heart attack, but she may give herself an ulcer, and she needs to chill. ❤

Cent’anni Bitches!

Monday Musings With Dissy: episode 9

As you all know, I turned the big 5-0 a couple of weeks ago. So far, it’s been a pretty good experience for me. I’ve heard a lot of people say the same thing, women in particular, that turning 50 is liberating.

My only problem with it is that I can’t remember shit anymore.

I guess I really can’t blame the age thing for that, though, because it’s been going on for a while now. No matter how many times I read that this is perfectly normal for “women my age,” it bugs the ever-loving shit out of me.

My point in griping about this is that I come up with about 80 billion (yes, BILLION) brilliant ideas for improving humanity on a daily basis. How many do I ever remember? zero.

This dude looks more like a donut.

What I do see on my facetyspace feed today, (that I feel has about a zero percent chance of improving humanity (that’s just IMN-S-HO, though.) is that there’s a thing out there called “rage yoga.” Let’s learn a little about “rage yoga” before we judge it, shall we?

“Tired of feeling “really out of place” in traditional yoga classes?” No. No I’m not. Why? Because I haven’t. I’m not sure there ever has been a “stick up their ass” yoga school like you describe in your ad. At least not in Northeast Ohio, anyhow, and I’ve taken classes in a Hindu temple, what I’d term “soccer mom yoga studios”, my own living room floor, community classes held in parks, and tiny schools set up on the wrong side of the tracks. They ALL share a common theme of being welcoming, helpful, and non-judgmental.

Yoga, for me, is very much about the peace and quiet, as it is for everyone else who is there. No one there cares what you look like in your yoga pants and tank top. No one cares that you need modifications. No one cares. If you feel judged, maybe it is you judging yourself.

The “alcohol-filled” description in the title of the article I read is also concerning. Not gonna lie… I’ve done yoga before after having drank a few beers. I also ended up with Wonder Woman complex, tried to go WAY too far, and hurt myself as a result. Booze and any kind of exercise (and, yes, yoga is a physical activity and is a form of exercise) at the same time is not a combination I would recommend.

Now, I’m always down for profanity (another thing mentioned). I’m pretty sure that I’ve whispered “shit” a time or two during my practice. And guess what? NO ONE CARED!!!

Judge Judy even thinks it’s bullshit.

But seriously? This is a thing? I mean, any kind of exercise can break frustration, anger, and aggression. This seems, to me, like something someone made up because they want to “mean girl” something they thought they experienced one time at a soccer mom school.

Get over yourself.

Now… I have to go cook up some plans for the rest of this week’s blogs.

I’ll come up with some great shit, and I’m sure Barb will too. Then, we will both forget them. But she will write hers down, so she’ll be good to go. Not me, though.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

Consequences and Repercussions

Basically, I made the claim on the ole facetyspace earlier today that we, as a society, are raising nicer, kinder children. I also made the connection that we (GenX-ers) were all a little dickheaded in some aspect.

So what is it that made us realize it was important to instill empathy and kindness in our children? Have we learned and grown from unspeakable tragedy? Or have we simply evolved as a species? Would it have happened without the worst in society rearing its ugly head, or did we need these events to drive points home that we have got to do better?

My two examples of tragedy that potentially molded and shaped?

Columbine
Jeffrey Dahmer

Both of these examples, at the time, had a huge media focus made out of the fact that the perpetrators of these crimes were not treated kindly (putting it mildly) by their peers.

I mean, there’s no denying that school shootings still happen. There’s no denying that serial killers are still very much a thing. The cynical part of me (I’m in a mood today, probably PMS) has to wonder, though, is that what it took to make us try harder with our own children?

What do you think, Barb?

It’s a reasonable theory.

There seems to have been a seismic shift in parenting styles between us Gen Xers and those who came before. I’m not entirely sure how to explain it, but it feels like we started raising our kids way differently. Less harshly, less focus on being a good little automaton. 

I can’t say for certain that things like Columbine were the reason, after all we still have bullying and school shootings.

However, something definitely clicked in our heads, and we made the decision that “the way it’s always been done” is no longer acceptable. Personally, I think it’s a good thing, and hopefully it keeps getting better. 

I do too, sista. I’m starting to like young people way better than most of my peer group.

WTF Friday: vol. 11

Google is your friend.

Today’s dose of WTF Friday is not pertaining to any kind of news item. Today, it is a legitimate question that has been trying Dissy’s patience for years.

Why does the general population seem to be utterly in-fucking-capable of finding something out for themselves?

I can see maybe wanting a referral or a recommendation from a friend and putting that question out there on the internet, but some of this shit? It would probably be a lot quicker to get an answer if you sent smoke signals across the valley to a neighboring tribe than it is to sit around waiting for your random friends to contribute to that facebook post you made asking how to restart your fitbit*.

Or… a better idea than slamming it into oblivion with a hammer like your third grade unreciprocated crush suggested, maybe try:

Google?
The instructions that came with the fitbit?
YouTube?

So, Barb, why in the hell do YOU think people do this?

I’m thinking it’s either laziness, attention seeking, or some combination of the two.
I feel like the same people constantly posting on Facebook looking for advice on the best ass wiping techniques are the same ones who are incapable of sneezing without posting it.

And I get it, social media wouldn’t be particularly social if no one posted about their lives. But I can’t be the only one tired of seeing a photo montage every time certain people walk from the living room to the kitchen. (maybe we should throw a couch at them).

Also, recently I’m noticing a major opposition to looking things up and doing your own research. People want everything spoon fed to them. And it has to be what they want to hear, or the shit hits the fan.

Or maybe I’m just a cranky jerk today, who knows 😉

But, we’ve gotta go for now. Dissy just sneezed.

*fitbit is only an example. It could really be anything.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

A Peek Behind the Curtain

Today has been rough; I’m so swamped at work it’s difficult to even find time to pee.

Making things even worse, I’m not in tomorrow, due to my mom’s first cataract surgery. Consequently, I’ve had trouble even thinking of what to write about today, much less actually get it done.

At any given time, I have so many things whirling around my head, the best way I can describe it is a pinball game gone amuck. (amuck, amuck, amuck, oof! Hocus Pocus FTW!)
You would think that would make writing easy, unfortunately it is very much the opposite.

Not only do I have to actually grab on to one of these thoughts, I have to carefully analyze it to make sure it’s something I can talk about without getting piled on by the internet (no small task, especially since I’m a woman), then organize it into something coherent enough for you lovely peeps to read and be able to make sense of.

All of that to say, today isn’t a day where that’s going to happen. Thankfully I have an appointment after work with my therapist, because I’m so frazzled right now my train of thought looks more like a Jackson Pollack painting.

I appreciate all of you for being interested in coming here and reading what Dissy and I come up with, and I’m definitely grateful to any of you who have waded through this mess today.

Gonna go in, get the old brain tuned up a bit, and tomorrow we’ll have WTF Friday, which is always fun.

Til Next Time,

Cent’anni Bitches!

Witchy Wednesday: Take 11

Batten down the hatches!! She’s here!!

Mercury Retrograde is here. Again. Sometimes it feels like Mercury forgets how to move forward normally, no sooner do we get out of one retrograde than it starts again. So, what does this actually mean, and why do we dread it so much? We’re about to tell you!

Barb –

Mercury rules over communication, so logically during retrograde that’s what gets totally screwed. And when communication goes bad, just about everything else does too, since clear communication is the foundation for anything we do.

Conventional wisdom holds that we should avoid major decisions and commitments during this time. No big purchases, accepting new jobs, signing contracts, and so on. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out that way, and sometimes you gotta do what you’ve gotta do. So how to avoid the gremlins messing everything up?

Firstly, I firmly believe a lot of the issues boil down to a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think everything is going to go haywire, so it does because every problem, no matter what it is, gets chalked up to retrograde. Take a deep breath and remember the first rule of being a person:

Shit happens.

Secondly, as with any other time, slow down and make sure you’re being clear in your own communications, and you fully understand what’s being communicated to you by others. A hefty chunk of life’s messiness comes from being in too much of a hurry to actually read that contract you’re signing, or double check that text message before you hit “send”, regardless of any astrological situations.

Being more aware will make your life easier every day of the year.

Dissy –

It’s funny. This retro started on the 16th, and I sat here and watched it explode on facebook.

I actually caught myself thinking, at some point this past month, that people were maybe calming down a smidge. I hadn’t seen anyone tell one of their family members or dear friends that they deserved to die a horrible death after watching their children get eaten by vultures just because he or she is for/against the orange man in the white house.

Then? February 16th hits. I see someone post something that, in my mind, couldn’t be more clear. “it sure is a beautiful day,” or something like that. Along comes someone else to go on an hour long tirade about how the person is a commie ass-licker who probably doesn’t vaccinate their kids.

What the shit, people?

I see retro as being similar to a full moon, only over a longer period of time. There’s an undeniable shift in energy, and, if you aren’t aware, you won’t know how to handle it, and it will fuck with you.

Personally, I like to look at Mercury retrograde as an opportunity to practice flexibility and patience. Old life themes have ways of popping back up, and, sometimes, that opportunity for a do-over is quite beneficial. Other times? not so much. Try to remember than an ex is an ex for a reason, and you really don’t need to tell him or her what a flaming pile of donkey shit he or she is that one last time.

Unless you enjoy chaos. If so? Have at it.

From what I’ve read, too, it depends on where we are in the zodiac during the retrograde. This Mercury retrograde is in Aquarius and Pisces. The Aquarius aspect could indicate petty squabbles and harsh words in friendships and romantic relationships. The Pisces aspect indicates that you may experience a tendency to fantasize or engage in daydreaming more than normal. This makes it a good time to persue creative endeavors.

Any way you slice the pie, just remember to breathe. Work on that patience and flexibility, and allow yourselves extra time for travel.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

Monday Musings With Dissy: episode 8

I felt like having some fun today, and I also felt like we have picked on Florida and Texas a lot, so I decided to pick on our home state. The Buckeye State, or, Ohio for you folks not in the know.

Shut up. It’s funny.

Let’s start with some dumb laws:

1. In Ohio, it is against the law to fish for whales on Sunday (any other day of the week is fine).
Has anyone paid attention to the fact that the only major waterways we have are lakes and rivers? Has anyone paid attention to the fact that whales do not frequent these areas? And I’m supposed to believe that lawmakers have my best interest at heart? Was someone trying to break in to Sea World to fish for Shamu? Can’t you just imagine that?

2. It is illegal to mistreat anything of great importance.
Shit… They may want to talk to some or all of my exes. Someone may want to shame them for vaguebooking… or is that “vaguelawing?”

3. In Toledo, it is illegal to throw a snake at anyone.
oooooookay… I mean, I like to consider myself a reasonable person, and I don’t think reasonable people throw snakes, but I could be wrong.

Officer… he came of his own free will. No one threw him. I swear!!

Did you know that the Cleveland Browns have arguably got the most loyal fan base in all of the NFL? I always tell people The Browns are the perfect team for female fans. They teach us to keep our expectations low.

Did you know that, this week alone, we have had all 4 seasons and that’s why we are all sick?

Did you know that LeBron James was born in Akron and is still very involved in the community even though he’s a Laker now? That makes him a good dude in my eyes.

Our serial killer claim to fame is Jeffrey Dahmer.

Still… I want to know who is out there whale fishing in OHIO.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

Hey, You, Listen Up!

If you could give your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?

Well, that is an excellent question. Why, you ask? Because I (Dissy) have a unique perspective on the concept of “advice.”

I actually think I’m pretty good at it, but this is funny.

The vast majority of people out there think that, just because they’re tapped for advice, whomever has done the asking is required to do exactly as they have “advised.” When, as is often the case, the asker does not do as the advisor has suggested, that becomes an excuse to bitch about it on social media.

“Well, why’d you even ask if you’re just gonna…”

Dude… shut the fuck up.

To me, advice is merely perspective. It’s another way of acquiring information that may or may not have occurred to me prior to my asking. When I have all of the advice I need, I sit with these things. I stew on them, I consider every angle, I combine all of the advice with my own thoughts in the matter, and I take action. It may or may not be what was recommended. It may resemble what was recommended, or it may not.

So… what would I have advised my younger self knowing full well that I would not follow my own advice?

I think maybe I’d plant some seeds at an earlier age.

“You will never, ever reach an age where you know all there is to know, so stop acting like you’re done learning and growing.”

I actually wrote a pretty good paper in college about this very topic. Don’t be too terribly impressed. I was 30 years old.

Or maybe

“stop taking this all so damn seriously.”

“Let go of what you think should happen and be happy with what is.”

Yes. That last one. We are going with that one. I’d also throw something in about ditching the jesus baggage. Yo, Dissy (even though 14 year old you isn’t even called “Dissy” yet), the only person who will EVER save you is this gal right here:

The person, not the horse. Listen up!

How about you, Barb?

I’m going to be a little more direct with Small Barb because she desperately needs someone who will be.

Dear Me:

You’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of pain by letting people who don’t care about you convince you that your only value is in how small you can make yourself. I don’t just mean the endless destructive crash diets, although that’s part of it. I’m talking about not asking for what you need, no matter how important it is to you, because you believe your only positive quality is being “low maintenance”. I’m talking about internalizing all your sadness, anger, stress, and frustration because your entire personality is “that person no one needs to notice”.

You are a whole person, and you have every right to take up space in the world. The sooner you start, the healthier you’ll be.

Much Love,
Me

I wonder if either of us would have listened.

Probably not.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

WTF Friday: Vol. 9

Warning: this blog would make it seem like Barb and I are mocking the trauma of sexual assault, and that is not our intent. Please bear in mind that this “news” story came from a tabloid and is, likely, either grossly exaggerated or completely false.

Sorry, Florida. You do not get to be in the spotlight this week.  Nope… you are losing out to my other favorite batshit state. Yep. This week’s dose of #whatthefuckiswrongwithyoupeople comes to you courtesy of The Lone Star State. 

79 people.

Seventy. Nine.

Seventyfuckingnine.

Dude… Prolific much?

Apparently, over the last 40 (FORTY!!!) years, across the states of Texas, California, Nevada, and New Mexico, this fine specimen of a “human being” would get stoned on LSD or PCP, put on an alien costume, kidnap people, and sexually assault them.

According to the article, one of his favorite places to haunt was a location near Area 51 in Roswell, New Mexico. You know, where all the alien/UFO hunters like to hang out hoping for a glimpse of extra-terrestrial activity.

It further says that, in order to confuse his victims, he had modified the inside of his truck to look like the inside of an operating room while, (and don’t forget this part) WEARING A DAMN ALIEN COSTUME.

What the hell kind of truck was he driving?? I mean, you’re going to need at least some room to maneuver around and to make it look like an operating room. Was it a standard pick-up? A van? A box truck? A tractor trailer? Why do these articles never tell us the shit we REALLY need to know? Tractor trailers are NOT cheap, so I’d imagine this may have been done while he was hauling cargo. I’m confused about the logistics. But, never mind that, for now.

Here is my favorite part:

He had even created his own sex toys designed to look like alien tools and medical instruments.

I… uh… 

Let me turn this over to Barb. Otherwise, I may end up commandeering the post today, and I have to remember to share.

Have at it, Barb!!

Holy. Fucking. Shit. There are no words…. I mean, there are plenty of words but not coherent ones.

me too, Barb. Me too.

Seventy-nine victims over the course of forty years?! How is it possible that he wasn’t caught sooner? Were his victims too ashamed to report what had happened? I can’t imagine a guy high out of his goddamn mind wearing AN ALIEN COSTUME would be difficult to spot. Then again, maybe there are a lot of people dressed like that in Roswell, I don’t know. (Dissy; I think they probably did report it as an alien abduction and not as a sexual assault).

Also, is it weird that I’m really curious what this guy thinks “alien tools and medical instruments” look like? Is there some connection between the drugs, and the belief that aliens perform surgery via dildo? Do we have pictures of them? There absolutely should be pictures. (Dissy: I am sad to report that, no, we do not have pictures of these “alien” sex toys, but I do think Pure Romance needs to get their asses in gear and make this happen).

That’s what she said…

And I really want to know more about this truck. It can’t be a regular pickup, Jay used to drive pickups and no way is there room for any of that mess. I have this mental image of the windowless pedo van. What does this guy’s drug addled brain think an operating room looks like?

The more I think about it, the more questions I have.

I tried looking to see if there was any more info out there, but didn’t have any luck, which puzzles me. How do you not write all the things about something like this? So Texas, you win the prize for whatthefuckery this week!

I just wanted to look at David Duchovny

Dissy really feels like Mulder and Scully should have been brought in on this.

Enjoy your weekend, folks!

Cent’anni, Bitches!