I'm just not feeling "it" today, but that's when it's most crucial to have a little peek at all the nastiness lurking inside. I bet the technician who did my abdominal ultrasound very early this morning, saw a bunch of my nastiness lurking in my pancreas, my liver and my gallbladder. It really sucks when your organs don't behave themselves. So for today, here are my thoughts...
In life we have two choices. We can either rise above the pain and sorrow or we can stay emotionally paralyzed by the demons of our past. Few of us had a perfect childhood and yes, too many of us bear the ugly scars of coming from a dysfunctional family. But remaining crippled by our past takes away our ability to give and to receive love. We lose the ability to forgive and move forward. We dwell in a gray area where our demons thrive. We are weakened by some unseen, unrelenting force that continually reminds us to never trust, to never have hope and to never have faith. That force is an emotional vampire wanting to drain us dry, but fear not because that vampire can be defeated. It's a choice and the choice is ours and ours alone to make.
Maybe tomorrow I'll feel a little more human and be ready to kick ass. For now, it's off to bed so the sugar plum fairies can work their magic on me.
K: Worse than cockroaches or bed
bugs?
J:
much worse, look at that disgusting
K: Hey,
I'm a gangsta bee so my species is okay 🐝🐝 Look, there you are with me. We're just buzzing around and doing gangsta bee stuff.
J: ya,
I guess I did. You want me to add it now?
K:
Some things never change. Crazy as a loon and I don't care what anyone thinks
of me. Hey, if M,
drops by here tell her you haven't seen me but you heard me buzzing.
K: Hey,
is it okay if I tell people you said I'm worse than a cockroach or a bedbug?
J:
I’d be honored...
K: I'm
a free to be me GANGSTA BEE 🐝
J:
whatever floats your boat. lol
J:
well, then whatever floats your hive
K: I
got honey in my hive
J: no
comment
K: I
got honey in my hive and it's good to be alive
K: Gangsta
bees rhyme like a dime in a crime
K: And
what is the crime?
J:
littering
K: swarming,
swarming, global warming
J: that
too. lol
K: Litter
is for quitters
K: And
to think I'm like this naturally. That’s scary!
K: Now,
buzz off, right?
J: But
please spread it in a nice way
K: I'll
spread my honey on my buns because honeybuns are fun, fun, fun…
J: that
explains it.
K: I
think I'll copy and paste this masterpiece to my blog
J: I
think you should and give me ample prompts
K: This
lovely chat we've had and a picture of the decubitus on my ass should keep
everyone happy for a while. And of course, I’ll give credit where credit is
due.
J: The
what on your ass!!??
K: Since
it's glaringly apparent that you don't know how to use Google...a bed sore, an
open ulcer on my arse... want to see?
J: naw,
I’ll pass. Hope it's better soon
K: and
I'm losing my hair, but it's all good because gangsta bees don't need no hair.
K: Losing
the hair on my head...not on my ass
J: I
can relate to that one. Nope, gangsta bees don't need no stinking hair
K: I
had debated posting the pic for my profile pic on Facebook, but the verdict is
still out on that one
K: What's
next? Shall we talk about our bowel movements or the virtues of menopause?
J:
Do what makes you happy!
J: Only
if you make me talk about that crap (pun intended)
K: Did
you know years ago I posted my colonoscopy pictures on Facebook?
J:
cool...bet you got a lot of comments
K: I
sure did...it would have freaked people out if I posted my prostate pics
J:
ah, I didn't think women have a prostate
K: Prostate?
Fooled you! Gangsta bees come well equipped, so when people tell me to go fuck
myself, I can do exactly that. No problemo!
J:
wow, glad I’m not a gangsta bee
K: That's
what BOB is for? Who's BOB, right?
K: BOB
is not a bee, but BOB buzzes like a bashful bee. BOB is a battery-operated
buddy BTW
J: The
honey's gone to your head
K: Uh
oh! We have company! I had better behave myself (you know how well that usually
works out)
E: Yea, it was all good until we
discovered words like: disposable, no deposit/no return, plastic, Styrofoam,
bic lighters, disposable bags, razors, diapers, throw it away not caring where
it goes...
K: What about words like GANGSTA
BEES?
K: Hi Ed!
K: Hey Ed, J said I'm worse than a
cockroach or a bedbug. I don't think she loves me anymore.
K: What am I gonna do? I guess I'll
retreat to my hive and lick my wounds.
K: I don't think Ed needs to be told
anything by me...you seem to have that nicely covered.
K: I said lick my wounds, not lick
my ass!
J: isn't that where your wound is?
K: They say a picture a picture is
worth a thousand words. Okay, I'm off to the next hive now. You two play nicely
or else, I'll be back, and you know what that means! Shock collars for
everyone!
J: [sigh]...have fun
K: Oh J, you weren't supposed to tell him where
my wound is. Now, I'm embarrassed. Instead of being yellow and black like a
good gangsta bee, I'm red and black. I’m a mess!
K: Good night ❤️
K: 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝
I bet you thought you were viewing the surface of the moon. Well folks, this is my "moon" and it has Hairy Ass Rot! |
Wow! I have hair on my ass! Where the hell did that come from? I guess that's what old women are suppossed to do. [They don't hand out booklets about the finer points of growing old, so I'm pretty clueless as what to expect] As our locks grow thin, hair starts to sprout everywhere it shouldn't...faces and asses are a favorite spot. How charming is that picture?
Tell me, how is one supposed to age gracefully when you have hairy ass rot going on? I can hardly wait for the next thing to short circuit or fall apart. Perhaps my mind will go next and then I simply wont care what I look like or how I feel.