When I was a little girl, I never really thought about kids. I had a few baby dolls, but I never felt the urgency and longing to be a mother like some of my estrogen-laden peers. Honestly, dolls weren’t really my bag; I was too busy being afraid of their lifeless marble eyes to braid their hair. You can just forget it if you think I was going to wrap them up in my favorite blanket and cradle them to my chest. It wasn’t until I saw a real baby that I became fond of them. Well, "fond" might be overgenerous; I was fascinated with them.
I was twelve when my cousin Lisa was born. My family was gathered at my aunt’s house and everyone was passing the baby around more than a half-smoked joint. Tias and tios took turns holding Lisa and brushing off their baby voices. (As an aside, I never understood why people speak to babies in incoherent high-pitched voices. Everyone does it, myself included. What a strange first impression of the world to get. The first word I said may have been “ducky”, but the first words I thought were probably more along the lines of, “I didn’t have to deal with this in the womb.”)
After everyone was satisfied with their turn, my mom asked me if I wanted to hold Lisa. I was petrified. Me? I wasn’t sure if I could handle being responsible for another human life for five minutes, but I agreed because I was so excited that someone trusted me with this responsibility.
I sat on the couch as my mom set up pillows on either side of me before putting one on my lap. Secure in my pillow fort, Baby Lisa was placed on my lap. She squirmed a little before yawning and looking at me. I wrapped my arms on either side of her and stared at her. It was a stare-down; me against baby, baby against me. I should have remembered the way she smelled like powder and formula. I should have commited her big, brown eyes that were complimented by a full head of hair into my memory. I should have spent more time understanding that this tiny human, who wasn’t even a part of the earth a few days ago, was spending part of the first week of her life on my lap. Instead, all I remember was wondering when the hell someone would take this baby off of me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t immediately love Baby Lisa, it was that I was terrified that I would do something to harm her. I was worried she would stand up, salute me and dive out of the pillow fort and onto the beigh carpeting that lined the floors. I was even more scared that I would shift slightly and somehow accidentally roll over her, making an accidental couch-baby burrito. I spent that five minutes with my arms around Lisa and not moving, not even breathing deeply, lest a rabid dog sneak up and snatch her away from me when I wasn't looking.
Ten years later and I still have essentially the same fear: I don’t want to hurt my kids. I’m not concerned about physically harming them (I still have many a pillows to construct a fort), but emotionally harming them. My worst fear when it comes to having children is that I will spend my entire life raising them and they, in turn, will spend their entire life in therapy complaining about me.
“She told me she doesn’t know if God is real,” I can hear my non-existent sixteen-year-old saying. “So I stopped believing in God and started believing in Joe. Our first kid is due next month.”
I like to think my parents did a pretty good job of raising me. I’m in my early twenties and have no major felonies, DUIs, children with uncertain baby daddies, drug abuse history and only a few instances of teenage rebellion and bitchery. I’m a relatively adjusted and compassionate person, regardless of whatever you’ve heard ’round the internets. While I can sing the praises of my parents all day, I can’t say that I understand how they did it. I don’t understand what makes me different from my friends, my cousins or the guests on “The Maury Pauvich Show”. How did my parents manage to raise my brothers and I into three well-adjusted, pretty normal non-felons?
I don’t know. I don’t even think they know. From what I can gather, parenting is a club nobody is prepared for. Sure, you can read the books and talk to the Parenting Club elders, but each circumstance is unique. Nobody has the exact same childhood, although many people have similar experiences. There is common sense that every parent learns first hand, like don’t leave permanent markers and toddlers alone. It only takes one Sharpie mustache on your baby's upper lip before you make a mental note to add that to the “Things To Remember About Parenting” list.
For the most part, however, it seems like parents are just winging it. They make up some rules and their children, out of love or fear for their parents, go with it. When I was younger, my parents’ word was the law. Everything they said was, had to be, true because why would my parents lie to me? When I was a teenager, I realized that my parents can, have and will always lie to me because they want nothing more than to ruin my life. Now, as a young adult, I realize that my parents are just playing a game that didn’t come with a rule book. They have nothing but my best interests at heart, even if I still occasionally think the only joy they get out of parenting is having someone to pass the unwanted chores to. The fact of the matter is, my parents were no more ready for parenthood than any parent. New parents can prepare for a child forever. They can read all the books, go to all the classes and talk to all the other parents, but they will be just as unprepared when that baby comes as if they just woke up one day and thought, “I think I’ll have a baby today.”
As I start to reach the age where my peers are having children or wanting children, I can’t help but have babies on the mind. I wonder if I’d make a good mother. I wonder if I’ll ever find someone I want to have children with. But, most of all, I wonder if I’ll ever feel prepared for motherhood.
M and Garland are currently expecting their first baby, and while I am excited and already filled with love for my unborn nephew, I can’t help but revert back to the same twelve-year-old girl who was terrified to hold Baby Lisa. I start to get the same nervous feeling, but then I stop to think about M and Garland. M, while he may have secretly always wanted to be a father, never publicly expressed a desire to have children. Garland, on the other hand, has stated on numerous occasions that she wants a family. She is the type of woman who sets her mind to something and accomplishes it; no fuss or theatrics, just impenetrable emotional armor and determination. When she said shortly after their wedding that she wanted to have kids, it was only a matter of time before one came along.
During one of our conversations about my nephew, Garland confessed that she was scared. She was excited at the prospect of having a child, but her excitement was mixed in with a healthy shot of fear. My unborn nephew, a defenseless six-month-old fetus, had cracked Garland’s armor. I listened in awe as she explained all the reasons she was nervous about having a child. I had no advice to offer because, well, I don’t know anything about children or raising them. But it suddenly dawned on me that regardless of whether someone is ready to be a parent or not, that’s not going to stop people from having kids. People have been recreating for thousands of years and, unless there is a serious uterus shortage in the near future, will continue to do the same thing for thousands of years to come. Just because I’m afraid doesn’t mean I won’t make a good parent. I'm just going to have to have faith that my parents set up a good enough example that I won’t completely screw up my child.
I have no doubt in my mind that M and Garland will be excellent parents. And, while I may always be nervous and unready to have children of my own, it won’t stop me from being the best tia I can be to my nephew.
In three months when my nephew arrives, I’ll set up my pillow fort once again. Though this time it won’t be completely out of fear, but rather a reminder that I want nothing but comfort and safety for my children, whenever it is I decide to have them.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Vocabulary.
There is this site that will tell you the words you use the most on your blog. I'd just like to say that the word "monkey" made it onto my list of blog words. So did "van", "fuck", "bathroom" and "eyebrows".
It really leads me to question what I talk about on here. And why you continue to read. I guess we're just two peas in a really odd pod.
It really leads me to question what I talk about on here. And why you continue to read. I guess we're just two peas in a really odd pod.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Uh oh, emotions.
OH MY GOD. I hate everyone so much and stab in face and punch in head and I spit on your shoes and GODDAMNIT YOU ARE A WORTHLESS MACHINE.
Ahem, let me start from the beginning.
Deskmate has been in rare form these days, or maybe it's just me. But, guys, I'm dying over here. Don't believe me? Here's proof:
Why yes, I have been called a modern day DaVinci.
I don't want to sound ungrateful for my job, especially in these times, and I'm not. My co-workers are very relaxed and I like my job for the most part. But it's really easy, like second graders or monkeys or monkeys with a second grade education could do it. I really think it speaks volumes when you fail at a job that second grade monkeys (who probably took a break from throwing their own feces) could do.
I was wandering down the hall towards the printer, trying to get the hell away from Deskmate, when the printer starts beeping at me. It's not a friendly "Hey buddy, what's up?" beep either; it's a "I'm self aware and my only purpose on God's green earth is to annoy the holy hell out of you". What. The. Fuck. Printer. I thought we were pals. We've had some good times. I've printed out many a clip art riddled flyers on you. Do you know how much of my soul I had to repress to add clip art to those flyers?! I thought you liked all the colors and pictures of flying cakes. But you were pretending all along, weren't you? You heartless, lying succubus.
That's fine, Printer. You broke my heart. BROKE IT. And now? Now I'm going to break you.
Back up in your ass with the resurrection.
It is on, you fucking dinosaur. Welcome to the Axis of Evil, there's a seat over there next to Tyra's fat ass.
Anyway this goes down, someone is getting the stank eye from me all fucking day.
Ahem, let me start from the beginning.
Deskmate has been in rare form these days, or maybe it's just me. But, guys, I'm dying over here. Don't believe me? Here's proof:
Why yes, I have been called a modern day DaVinci.
I don't want to sound ungrateful for my job, especially in these times, and I'm not. My co-workers are very relaxed and I like my job for the most part. But it's really easy, like second graders or monkeys or monkeys with a second grade education could do it. I really think it speaks volumes when you fail at a job that second grade monkeys (who probably took a break from throwing their own feces) could do.
I was wandering down the hall towards the printer, trying to get the hell away from Deskmate, when the printer starts beeping at me. It's not a friendly "Hey buddy, what's up?" beep either; it's a "I'm self aware and my only purpose on God's green earth is to annoy the holy hell out of you". What. The. Fuck. Printer. I thought we were pals. We've had some good times. I've printed out many a clip art riddled flyers on you. Do you know how much of my soul I had to repress to add clip art to those flyers?! I thought you liked all the colors and pictures of flying cakes. But you were pretending all along, weren't you? You heartless, lying succubus.
That's fine, Printer. You broke my heart. BROKE IT. And now? Now I'm going to break you.
Back up in your ass with the resurrection.
It is on, you fucking dinosaur. Welcome to the Axis of Evil, there's a seat over there next to Tyra's fat ass.
Anyway this goes down, someone is getting the stank eye from me all fucking day.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Lazy, baby.
You guys, let me tell you a story about my weekend.
I was selfish. I did EXACTLY what I wanted and it was delightful. I've always been a team player. Need someone to take one for the team? Sign me up. It's not always pleasant or what I want to do, but I get satisfaction from seeing my friends and family happy, even if I'm not. Sick, right?
I'm not sure how it happened, but this weekend I turned it off. I had things to do, things I should have done and things I already committed to, but I didn't want to do any of them. I've been under pressure from all aspects of my life recently; school, work, losing weight, making new friends, maintaining older friendships, saving money, tuition, Vegas, parties. The summer is jam packed and although I'm looking forward to all of it, it doesn't change the fact that I've been a busy bee. This might be normal for most people, but here's a little secret about your buddy KV: I'm lazy.
There, I said it.
My ideal day consists of nothing more than eating take out, going for a walk, napping and lounging around watching movies. That's all I want out of life sometimes. I do realize, though, that's really impractical and mostly impossible.
Not this weekend, though. This weekend I had the privilege, nay, the luxury to say "fuck all that lame bullshit I don't want to do" and instead do everything I wanted to do.
Pedicures with Mama D? Hell yeah. Shopping with Red? You know it, girlfriend. Walks with M and The Boy replaced worrying and planning for the future. Chats with Garland and Thurber eased my worries about work, school and scrounging up money for a college I can't afford. Spending Sunday with my dad, watching "Rocky Balboa" and reading Cormac McCarthy relaxed and made me happier than I've been in a long time. It was as close to a perfect weekend as any other I can remember.
Today, as the last remnants of the weekend fade into the past, I feel a little nostalgic but refreshed. There same problems that I was able to tune out for two days were waiting to greet me this morning. They still suck and I'm still no closer to a solution, but I understand that my problems aren't the only things that matter in life. They are important, no doubt, but not unsolvable.
What has proven to be unsolvable is the laziness that courses through me. This weekend, however, I didn't mind it so much.
I was selfish. I did EXACTLY what I wanted and it was delightful. I've always been a team player. Need someone to take one for the team? Sign me up. It's not always pleasant or what I want to do, but I get satisfaction from seeing my friends and family happy, even if I'm not. Sick, right?
I'm not sure how it happened, but this weekend I turned it off. I had things to do, things I should have done and things I already committed to, but I didn't want to do any of them. I've been under pressure from all aspects of my life recently; school, work, losing weight, making new friends, maintaining older friendships, saving money, tuition, Vegas, parties. The summer is jam packed and although I'm looking forward to all of it, it doesn't change the fact that I've been a busy bee. This might be normal for most people, but here's a little secret about your buddy KV: I'm lazy.
There, I said it.
My ideal day consists of nothing more than eating take out, going for a walk, napping and lounging around watching movies. That's all I want out of life sometimes. I do realize, though, that's really impractical and mostly impossible.
Not this weekend, though. This weekend I had the privilege, nay, the luxury to say "fuck all that lame bullshit I don't want to do" and instead do everything I wanted to do.
Pedicures with Mama D? Hell yeah. Shopping with Red? You know it, girlfriend. Walks with M and The Boy replaced worrying and planning for the future. Chats with Garland and Thurber eased my worries about work, school and scrounging up money for a college I can't afford. Spending Sunday with my dad, watching "Rocky Balboa" and reading Cormac McCarthy relaxed and made me happier than I've been in a long time. It was as close to a perfect weekend as any other I can remember.
Today, as the last remnants of the weekend fade into the past, I feel a little nostalgic but refreshed. There same problems that I was able to tune out for two days were waiting to greet me this morning. They still suck and I'm still no closer to a solution, but I understand that my problems aren't the only things that matter in life. They are important, no doubt, but not unsolvable.
What has proven to be unsolvable is the laziness that courses through me. This weekend, however, I didn't mind it so much.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Vital information for your everyday life.
Hello kiddos. I gotta get a new nickname for you readers. Kiddos sounds like I'm trying to entice you into my windowless van. I mean, like if you wanna come into said van and eat ice cream off my waterbed, I wouldn't say no. I digress.
Today, because I feel like oversharing, I present to you 20 things you didn't know about good ol' KV.
1. I am obsessed with my eyebrows. I pluck, comb and trim them on a daily basis. I've made my lady cousins, Mama D, one of my aunts and Garland swear that if I am ever in a coma, one of them has to come pluck my eyebrows. They can get very out of control very quickly. They're like a cobra, except hairy and on my face.
2. As far as I'm concerned, I am a deaf-mute in the bathroom. No conversations shall be had while business is being handled. Just call me Helen Keller, baby.
3. I sometimes slip into accents during regular speech time. I have been known to pepper my sentences with a Jamaican, Mexican, Matisyahu, Minnesotan or Sarah Palin accents. Sometimes, during the glorious drunken hour, all the accents will combine to form one powerful, incoherant Super Accent of Drunkeness, also known as slurring.
4. I don't like it when people are angrily shouting. I start to feel sick to my stomach. Confrontation scares the shit out of me.
5. I love being loud. I know that pretty much just cancels out what I said for #4, but it's my blog and I do what I want. I especially love it when I am with my family and the decibel level rises by 50. Put a board game in the mix and someone is going to get shouted at in drunken Spanglish.
6. I judge someone based on what movies they like. I once bailed on a date because the guy didn't know who the Coen Brothers were. Check, please.
7. I hate being in college. I feel like I'm wasting my time and money. I would quit school if I had a better idea.
8. I hate that #7 is true.
9. I would shoot myself in the face if I didn't have an iPod. I realize I'm spoiled and I'm cool with it.
10. I time most things. Almost everything that I do is counted out (for example, I won't drink milk left out for more than 10 seconds, won't wash my hands for less than 6 seconds, won't brush my teeth for longer than 2 minutes, etc). Sometimes, when I have to do an unpleasant task, I count how long it takes me to do it.
11. A cold iced tea will pacify me in almost any situation.
12. I am a comedy snob; if someone can't make me laugh and/or doesn't laugh at my jokes, I will not like that person and subsequently convince myself that they are stupid.
13. Most of the time, I honestly do not understand why people like me.
14. I know exactly who my bridesmaids would be even though I am nowhere near ready to get married.
15. I don't care so much for celebrity gossip anymore. This is heresy for my friends, I'm sure. But, listen guys, I'm starting to find Perez Hilton more irritating than anything else. I'll turn in my lady card now.
16. This should probably be called 15a or be some sort of contiuation of #15, but I love gossiping. I'm not even sorry. I don't say anything behind someone's back I wouldn't say to their face and I never spread mean or hurtful secrets. I can, however, keep my lips shut when it's important.
17. I don't really care for cake. Again, here is my lady card. Just take it.
18. It's not important to me to have biological children. The more and more I think about it, the more I'd rather adopt.
19. I fall in love with a song or album and listen to it continuously until I never want to hear it again. I try not to do this often as it will completely ruin albums/songs for me.
20. I have an unnatural urge to be an audience member during a taping of "Maury". I just want to scream at slutty underage girls or good-for-nothin' baby daddies.
So, there you go. 20 things you know about me that will help you get into my good graces. Please use them wisely and not for blackmail.
Today, because I feel like oversharing, I present to you 20 things you didn't know about good ol' KV.
1. I am obsessed with my eyebrows. I pluck, comb and trim them on a daily basis. I've made my lady cousins, Mama D, one of my aunts and Garland swear that if I am ever in a coma, one of them has to come pluck my eyebrows. They can get very out of control very quickly. They're like a cobra, except hairy and on my face.
2. As far as I'm concerned, I am a deaf-mute in the bathroom. No conversations shall be had while business is being handled. Just call me Helen Keller, baby.
3. I sometimes slip into accents during regular speech time. I have been known to pepper my sentences with a Jamaican, Mexican, Matisyahu, Minnesotan or Sarah Palin accents. Sometimes, during the glorious drunken hour, all the accents will combine to form one powerful, incoherant Super Accent of Drunkeness, also known as slurring.
4. I don't like it when people are angrily shouting. I start to feel sick to my stomach. Confrontation scares the shit out of me.
5. I love being loud. I know that pretty much just cancels out what I said for #4, but it's my blog and I do what I want. I especially love it when I am with my family and the decibel level rises by 50. Put a board game in the mix and someone is going to get shouted at in drunken Spanglish.
6. I judge someone based on what movies they like. I once bailed on a date because the guy didn't know who the Coen Brothers were. Check, please.
7. I hate being in college. I feel like I'm wasting my time and money. I would quit school if I had a better idea.
8. I hate that #7 is true.
9. I would shoot myself in the face if I didn't have an iPod. I realize I'm spoiled and I'm cool with it.
10. I time most things. Almost everything that I do is counted out (for example, I won't drink milk left out for more than 10 seconds, won't wash my hands for less than 6 seconds, won't brush my teeth for longer than 2 minutes, etc). Sometimes, when I have to do an unpleasant task, I count how long it takes me to do it.
11. A cold iced tea will pacify me in almost any situation.
12. I am a comedy snob; if someone can't make me laugh and/or doesn't laugh at my jokes, I will not like that person and subsequently convince myself that they are stupid.
13. Most of the time, I honestly do not understand why people like me.
14. I know exactly who my bridesmaids would be even though I am nowhere near ready to get married.
15. I don't care so much for celebrity gossip anymore. This is heresy for my friends, I'm sure. But, listen guys, I'm starting to find Perez Hilton more irritating than anything else. I'll turn in my lady card now.
16. This should probably be called 15a or be some sort of contiuation of #15, but I love gossiping. I'm not even sorry. I don't say anything behind someone's back I wouldn't say to their face and I never spread mean or hurtful secrets. I can, however, keep my lips shut when it's important.
17. I don't really care for cake. Again, here is my lady card. Just take it.
18. It's not important to me to have biological children. The more and more I think about it, the more I'd rather adopt.
19. I fall in love with a song or album and listen to it continuously until I never want to hear it again. I try not to do this often as it will completely ruin albums/songs for me.
20. I have an unnatural urge to be an audience member during a taping of "Maury". I just want to scream at slutty underage girls or good-for-nothin' baby daddies.
So, there you go. 20 things you know about me that will help you get into my good graces. Please use them wisely and not for blackmail.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Ouch.
Yesterday was so laughably terrible that I had no other choice than to, well, laugh at it all. I spent the first part of my day drenched in the stench of mediocrity and dirty feet at the DMV, followed by numerous phone calls to unexpectedly helpful banks. Thanks for not screwing me on this one, Wells Fargo.
After spending the day running errands, I made some soup and called it a day. Poppa J came over and we rented some movies. I was enjoying just hanging out with Poppa J and Red, but I couldn't shake the headache I had. I started rubbing my temples, but that just made it hurt even more.
Oh well, I thought. It's probably because I'm wearing a hat and I've had a stressful day. I'll just sleep it off.
This morning I woke up like most other mornings: groggy and craving a muffin. I got into the shower and praised Jesus for warm water. After steaming up the bathroom, I wiped the mirror clean and saw this:
Not pictured: Ike Turner.
What the holy hell?! Where did that come from? I searched my noggin and suddenly remembered what happened. There is a shelf above my bed where sometimes things are put. Heavy things. And sometimes said things fall DIRECTLY ONTO MY HEAD.
Hello, Klutziness? It's your old friend, KV. Glad you could drop by.
I tried to cover it up lest my co-workers think I'm cooler than I am by sporting a black eye on a Wednesday.
Also not pictured: emo tears.
Sorry guys, no bar fights over here to speak of. Just a laughably terrible Tuesday.
After spending the day running errands, I made some soup and called it a day. Poppa J came over and we rented some movies. I was enjoying just hanging out with Poppa J and Red, but I couldn't shake the headache I had. I started rubbing my temples, but that just made it hurt even more.
Oh well, I thought. It's probably because I'm wearing a hat and I've had a stressful day. I'll just sleep it off.
This morning I woke up like most other mornings: groggy and craving a muffin. I got into the shower and praised Jesus for warm water. After steaming up the bathroom, I wiped the mirror clean and saw this:
Not pictured: Ike Turner.
What the holy hell?! Where did that come from? I searched my noggin and suddenly remembered what happened. There is a shelf above my bed where sometimes things are put. Heavy things. And sometimes said things fall DIRECTLY ONTO MY HEAD.
Hello, Klutziness? It's your old friend, KV. Glad you could drop by.
I tried to cover it up lest my co-workers think I'm cooler than I am by sporting a black eye on a Wednesday.
Also not pictured: emo tears.
Sorry guys, no bar fights over here to speak of. Just a laughably terrible Tuesday.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Smashing Good Time
Editor's Note: Today I'm taking a cue from one of my favorite blogs, Letters and Lists and writing a letter to some people who, unfortunately, are now near and not so much dear to me.
Dear Shitheads Who Stole My Purse Last Night,
Hey guys, what's up? I hope you're really enjoying the contents of my purse. It was so awesome the way you totally disregarded human decency and smashed The Boy's car window to steal my purse. Super cool of you. It actually works out well. I mean, I wouldn't have known what to do with my entire paycheck anyway. You guys really know all the good places to spend someone else's money, like Best Buy and the grocery store. I hope my 80 hours worth of work got you something really cool there, like the complete "Jackass" series or an iPod.
Oh, which reminds me, I hope you enjoy Rex Grayskull, my $300 iPod. He had like 2500 songs on him, so hopefully there's something on there that you'll like. Please excuse all the Abba and Justin Timberlake. Had I known someone would be stealing him, I would have loaded him up with Yanni and myself saying "fuck you in the face" over and over again. I in no way whatsoever hope he shorts out and electrocutes your ears. I would mention that sometimes the earbuds can indeed shock you, but I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.
Boy, you guys sure did surprise me by stealing my wallet, work badge, car keys, house keys and The Boy's camera. You must've known that I wanted to feel stupid, guilty and incredibly frustrated all at the same time. Thanks! Also, just so you know, it only took me an hour at the DMV to get a new ID. And it's only going to take me one entire work day to close my accounts, open new ones and change the locks. Can you believe it?! Only one day where I have to push everything aside to deal with this. What a steal! No pun intended, cause it's obvious you guys already know so much about steals.
So, in conclusion, I hope karma drop kicks your face sometime in the very near future. Also, enjoy my favorite ghetto gold hoops and new peppermint chapstick. I hope you get rabies.
Peace fuckers,
KV
Dear Shitheads Who Stole My Purse Last Night,
Hey guys, what's up? I hope you're really enjoying the contents of my purse. It was so awesome the way you totally disregarded human decency and smashed The Boy's car window to steal my purse. Super cool of you. It actually works out well. I mean, I wouldn't have known what to do with my entire paycheck anyway. You guys really know all the good places to spend someone else's money, like Best Buy and the grocery store. I hope my 80 hours worth of work got you something really cool there, like the complete "Jackass" series or an iPod.
Oh, which reminds me, I hope you enjoy Rex Grayskull, my $300 iPod. He had like 2500 songs on him, so hopefully there's something on there that you'll like. Please excuse all the Abba and Justin Timberlake. Had I known someone would be stealing him, I would have loaded him up with Yanni and myself saying "fuck you in the face" over and over again. I in no way whatsoever hope he shorts out and electrocutes your ears. I would mention that sometimes the earbuds can indeed shock you, but I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.
Boy, you guys sure did surprise me by stealing my wallet, work badge, car keys, house keys and The Boy's camera. You must've known that I wanted to feel stupid, guilty and incredibly frustrated all at the same time. Thanks! Also, just so you know, it only took me an hour at the DMV to get a new ID. And it's only going to take me one entire work day to close my accounts, open new ones and change the locks. Can you believe it?! Only one day where I have to push everything aside to deal with this. What a steal! No pun intended, cause it's obvious you guys already know so much about steals.
So, in conclusion, I hope karma drop kicks your face sometime in the very near future. Also, enjoy my favorite ghetto gold hoops and new peppermint chapstick. I hope you get rabies.
Peace fuckers,
KV
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