Pleasantly Demented

It's been awful.  The whole week.  The stupid Indie Ink weekly challenge.  Oh god.  It wasn't Lance's fault.  It was actually a pretty good prompt.  "Instant karma's gonna get you."  A little nod to Lennon (Whom I happen to despise post-Beatles, but that's another post entirely), a little introspective nudge, lots of different places to go with it.  You'd think I would have had a field day with this shit, right?  So what gives?  Fuck if I know.  It's truly been that kind of week. 

(For the record, I am purposely not including the footer this week, but you can check out my challenger, Lance, at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  He's pretty much the coolest guy on the interwebz.  LOVE!)


So what does a girl do when all that she holds dear in the world completely fails her, the hours are ticking by, and she has absolutely nothing to show?

There is only one place left to go.

That's right, fuckers.  The iPhone app store!

So.  I got nothing by searching "Instant karma."  Not a damn thing.



"Karma" however, provided a host of wonderful things to choose from.  Including iSqueeze.  What is iSqueeze?  Oh nothing, except what would have been the absolute BEST THING EVER if the app had happened to work.

Yeah.  I was totally bummed when it didn't work.  Totally fucking bummed.  It was free, though, so no love lost.

I kept searching. 









Finally, Viola.

It's time to get down to brass tacks, folks. 






There is nothing like a 1970s-esque freaky styley Buddha to convince you of spiritual authenticity.  Am I right or am I right?  Of course I'm fucking right.  Shut up.



 



Right off the bat, I knew I was fucked.   Accepting imperfections just ain't my thang.  As a matter of fact, imperfections are the plutonium for my flux capacitor.  Without them, my tank of disdain and cruelty toward humanity would be perpetually empty and I'd have nothing left to live for. 

Unsolicited advice.  If you know me, you've probably already been through several rounds of penicillin to cure the strep throat you get every time you've been forced to swallow mine.





 






                          HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

                          That is all.













I am going to go ahead and assume that lying about having cruel or violent thoughts would be worse than actually having cruel and violent thoughts, yes? 
















It is becoming clear to me now that this entire fucking quiz is stacked against me. 













This would be best answered by quoting my homeboy Jason from Facebook today.  In attempting to answer a question as to the exact contents of my Ipod running playlist, he states, "REM, Something Angry, REM, Something Depressing, REM, Something with a lot of shouting, a recording of her reading her own blog, and Stevie Nicks."

There is just really nothing left to say at this point. 














Moi?  Neglectful?  Perish the thought!  Well.  That is, if I neglect to mention that my dog has taken to knocking down the entire Christmas tree in protest of her empty food bowl.  To her credit, she hasn't resorted to such blatant destruction of property until tossing her food bowl all the way across the kitchen produces no results.  











Not for at least another 2-4 days...
*nudge, nudge, wink, wink.*














Does Deadly Women on the ID channel count as toxic?  How about the Chiller channel?  Or FearNet?  Fuck me.  I can't win for losing.  











WAIT A MINUTE!  Hold the fucking phone, yo.  I was under the impression that it was perfectly righteous to  (finger quotes) Homeschool (close finger quotes) my kids while pimping them out during the day to that perfectly trustworthy guy who drives the white van with tinted windows.  He promised them ice cream in exchange for "physical labor!"  HOW is that wrong, pray tell??












If by "meditate," they mean "were you able to shut that fucking hole in your face long enough to contemplate all the filthy, sinful, twisted, neglectful, unkind, scandalous, impure thoughts that have inexorably taken up residence in your temporal lobe?"  Umm.  The answer would be no.  









So.  Out of all that work.  All of my unyielding, shameful honesty.  What do I get in return?  I was kind of hoping for the cockroach thing.