THIS IS ONLY FOR PEOPLE THAT FIND HUMOUR IN HORRIBLE THINGS.

Disclaimer: Don't read this if you're sensitive. Or pro life. 

Shit like Family Circus doesn't make me laugh. That makes milk crawl up my nose. Like there's one, where the little ginger girl with the ponytail is standing in a field looking at a butterfly, and she says "I like butterflies. They don't sting or bite, they just flutter". What the fuck?
The caption should have been "Oooh shit, I thought that enema would never come out". (I stole that, just so you know.. from http://www.cracked.com/blog/pg13-family-circus/ it's hilarious.) Anyway, if you read that, you'll know I have a sick, sick sense of humour.

I love dead baby jokes. And abortion jokes. And racist jokes. It's pretty easy to make me laugh. Unless you write Family Circus.

This is a request from Alexia, asking "Do a blog about your abortion jokes!". I don't have any abortion jokes. I have a joke that is about both dead babies and abortions.

Here goes.

Q: What's red and crawling up your leg?
A: An abortion with homesickness.

Q: How do you fit 30 babies in a bucket?
A: A blender.
Q: How do you get them out?
A: Doritos.

Q: What's more fun than swinging a baby around at 250 mph on a clothes line?
A: Stopping it with a shovel.

Q: Why did the foetus cross the road?
A: Because they moved the dumpster.

Q: How do you make a dead baby float?
A: Take your foot off its head.

Q: Why did the baby fall out of the tree?
A: Because it was dead!

Q: How do you stop a baby from choking?
A: Take your dick out of its mouth!

Q: What is special about a dead baby over all other forms of life?
A: You can achieve deep throat from whichever way you enter.

Q: Why did the baby cross the road?
A: It was stapled to the chicken.

Q: What do you get when you cut a baby into pieces?
A: An erection.

Q: What's the worst thing about having sex with a dead baby?
A: Wiping the blood off your clown suit.

I fucking told you.

P.S. I stole ALL of this from http://www.dead-baby-joke.com/dbj_022.htm

Going to the Doctor

Ok, so if you didn't know, I have a terrible, terrible fear of needles. They are the scariest thing in the world. Except sometimes when I'm laying in my bed, and the stupid part of my subconscious (which takes up rather a lot of my brain) decides to whisper to the rest of my brain "Hey, I bet Saduko/Slender Man/the possessed girl from the Exorcist is standing right next to your bed". Fuck you, subconscious.
Anyway, back to the needles. I'm pretty sure this dates back to when I was getting a flu shot around the age of.... 7-ish, and Mother decided to get the shot first so I could see what happened, and that it didn't hurt. The only thing that registered in my mind was "There is a sharp thing penetrating my mother's arm, and it's about to do the same to me". Instinct? RUN! But no, I was smarter than that.

And then, another time, I went on a class trip to Greece with my Latin class (when I lived in London, right before I moved), and just so you know, apart from this one incident, it was absolutely amazing. Anyway, I tripped and fell on some gravel one day, because my balance isn't so hot when it's like 40 degrees out. Very hot. For a Londoner, mind you. Anyway, it actually took Mme Ratureau telling me there was blood running down my neck for me to find out I had cut my chin. Ordinarily, my pain threshold is extremely low, so this was strange. Shock? Hmm... So we went to the local hospital, and the doctor wanted to put a big fucking needle in my face. Well not my face, like under my chin, where no one can see. The scar is not visible unless you look pretty closely, luckily. But this man, who I didn't know, that didn't speak English or French, wanted to *convulses at the thought of what he wanted to do* put stitches in me, AKA sew me up with a needle. After injecting me with a needle. My mind was going FUCK THAAAT and later, my friend Maddie was telling me that she legitimately got scared looking into my eyes, because I was so fucking terrified.

So yeah, those were the reasons why I hate needles. And then, I found out last year that I have to get 3 HPV shots. This is pretty much my worst nightmare. Three. I got the first one in November (what a great birthday present) (my birthday is in November if you didn't get that.......), and pretty much punched the nurse. It's not even the pain, it didn't hurt at all. But screw the idea of putting sharp things in my body. This is why I'm so scared to get pierced ears. Though I want them, because otherwise Mother will have to give all her pretty earrings to my brother's wife when she dies. Because he'll have one someday. But don't think I'm morbid or wishing for my Mother's death, though she is a tad aggravating, but this is actually how she's trying to get me to pierce them. But I had to go to the hospital for a physical so I could do Cross Country about 3 weeks ago, and "while I was there" Mother thought it would be a good idea for me to get a flu and HPV shot. Luckily, they do flu shots in some nasal thing, so that was fine, but I flat out refused to get the HPV shot. Then my nurse pulled out this book and said "This girl came in a few years ago, and also only got one shot. Two years later she came in with genital warts." Frankly, that didn't scare me all that much, because I intend to be celibate for a while longer (not till marriage or anything, I don't plan to marry either), because you know... pregnancy and stuff. I hate babies, but I don't really want an abortion, though I joke about them all the time. All the time. 


But Mother seemed to be under the impression that I was going to aspire to be a hooker/stripper/sket when I was older, so she kept threatening me with genital warts.
I was pretty much ready to get the goddam injection just to make her stop saying genitals warts. I've told you before, I don't discuss these things with my Mother, though she tries. Sometimes. 


And it's profusely awkward. 

NAKEDNESS

If I'm not in the bath, I detest being naked. It's not that I hate my body or anything, not that I'm the I'm an image of perfection or anything, but yes. If I'm not in my bathroom, I refuse to be naked. At the very least, a towel is required, if I must make a run to my conjoined bedroom to get pyjamas. I don't even have to go through a hallway, it's my bathroom, and it's connected to my room. But I have this constant paranoia that mother will do her knock-twice-and-not-wait-for-my-acquiesence-before-opening-the-door thing. She terrifies me in that way. I'm also always terrified that she will turn off the router. Because she does. Every night. Because she doesn't seem to realise that the internet is super awesome, and I like it. Though it does get me to bed earlier.

Anyway, so a while back, a bunch of my friends were liking things like "Being naked" or "chillin naked after showers because you're too lazy to get dressed". I thought "WELL, I hate being naked. Surely there's a group/fanpage for that!"... nope. Apparently, everyone enjoys being in their birthday suits but me.

I can't be the only one! I'm merely shy! It's just the way I was raised. My mother and father make me feel like I should wear a nun's garb all the time. More my father than my mother, because she's more of a fashionista. My dad's greatest fear is that I'll become a typical valley girl that chews gum all the time, says "like" every two words and worst of all: wear short shorts with tank tops and flip flops.

I can't say I would ever do that anyway, I'm not comfortable with shorts anyway. Too much leg. Plus, with the neverending sun of Arizona, I would get a tan.

I would look horrendous with a tan. Plus, I'm probably getting one from cross country anyway. I'd rather not add to it by not wearing anything. I mean, I just don't get the whole sunbathing thing. Tans are stupid. Tans = skin cancer. Skin cancer = no bueno.

If you're naturally dark, that's just fine, but if you're pale, I don't see the point of sitting in the sun all the time, or getting fake tans by going to salons/tanning booths.

But that's just my opinion. I guess some people would look terrible if they were pale.

Me in my glorious paleness.  

My Parents

Okay, so I'm not all that close with my mother. I'll just put that out there before I say anything else. Keep it in mind. She's really nosy, and goes through my trash, and harasses me to do stuff all the time. The part that bothers me the most is the "going through my trash" part. Harassing is pretty normal. If she didn't my room would be ...... *looks about messy room* ...... messier. And my bed unmade. And I would probably go to bed at midnight every night. And regret it every morning when I wake up at 6:45.

So I suppose I appreciate that.

Still. Oh, and my door refuses to lock, and mother doesn't really knocking.. or she does, but she'll knock twice really quietly, not wait for my reply, and 1 second later, she's in my room. My room is my bubble. I don't like when people invade my bubble. Unless they're my friends. I don't mind not having privacy with my friends, frankly. I'm pretty open with them.

My dad is much better about this, probably because he would be super embarrassed for the rest of his life were he to walk in on me in just a towel. Because I'm never naked outside my bathroom. I'll get back to that. He's also just as cynical as I am. We're a cynical family, you see. Except my sister. She's the nicest person in the world, born to help others.

I'm not like that. I hate helping others. I found out today that I have to do community service to graduate from TPA, and my immediate reaction was WTF I HATE HELPING PEOPLE AND NOT GETTING MONEY FOR IT. But then, the person who broke the terrible news to me reminded me that I could get community service by going to the humane society and playing with puppies. I like puppies.

I like all baby creatures. Unless they're human. Stupid human babies.. smh I'm so not having children...

Anyway, the reason I thought of this as a post was because I'm too nervous to swear in front of them (except like damn or something, because that's not really a swear word), and yet they say pretty much every cuss word under the sun in front of me.

I did an online class (or 3) last year in order to go to TPA, and one of them was really irritating because my bitch teacher was like NO I'M GIVING YOU AN 89% EVEN THOUGH YOU WORK ON MY CLASS 6 HOURS A DAY. She gave me an A eventually because I went to her house and murdered her family, so it's ok, but anyway, when I was yelling about my teacher to my dad he said "Write an e-mail to her saying "Go fuck yourself, motherfucker". I tried really hard not to laugh. I feel weird laughing when my parents make a joke involving swearing. Because then they will know I swear. O___O They probably know, frankly, but you know..

Though I think my dad heard me yell "I FUCKING WANT" today when he came home because I saw a super duper awesome Doctor Who poster that said "this poster is bigger on the inside".  Because when my parents aren't home, I swear a lot. It's like "FREEDOOOOMMMM" And I run around swearing no matter if I'm really angry, or in a fabulous mood. 


Or just meh. 


I'm going to go bathe now. 


Au revoir!

People that post 5 statuses a day.....

Do you have a friend like that? That posts 400 statuses a day? 

I do. Several. 

Just to say she's going to the goddam gym, or whether she's going to the football game, or a stupid ass quote from some song. 

IT'S CALLED TWITTER. 

Twitter is where she won't bother me. Because I don't have twitter. Because I don't give a fuck when she goes to the gym. 

I, personally, think hard about my statuses. I should probably be thinking about the Iliad, but if I have a good idea as to what a status would be that would amuse the people of facebook, I remember it, and post it later. I don't let people know about random crap I do during the day, because I know no one cares. 

I really do take pleasure in people "liking" my statuses. It's really sad, but it's true. I'm sure everyone does. Why wouldn't you? It's a nice feeling, to think people agree with you, or find you humorous. 

And yet, even though she obviously doesn't give the slightest thought to what she shares with the world, lots of people like them. Perhaps they are as brain dead as she is. And perhaps they don't mind her clogging up their home-pages. With her saying she's going to the goddam gym. Several times.

And she goes every day.