My captives, who are currently sleeping in the back bedrooms of my home (I'll keep this to a whisper) would like for me to think differently. They would like for me to believe that my life has always been one vomit covered load of laundry after another. That I never showered daily, and that my BMI was never slightly below average. They live under the impression that I have been kicked, bitten and splattered with various foreign gunk into submission, and that my memories of a different life have long ago left me. They would, of course, would be incorrect in the assertion.
I know for a fact my ass was cool once, because I have obtained photographic evidence to the fact. Buried deep, DEEP within the bowels of my Facebook page I have uncovered this:
I give you COOL
I rode the subway. In New York City. Where I lived.
I lived in this shit hole, and from my window...
I could see this shit hole. Which was an exact replica of my shit hole, no less.
I did the Europe "thing" once.
Here I am standing next to a man dressed up as a penis. COOL.
I swilled beer.
I had a cat. Which is actually not so much a cool thing as it is a symbol of independent living, which actually makes it sound like once upon a time I was a geriatric, which is actually not the point I am trying to make here. Well, I suppose it is my end point... aw hells. My cat was fucking cool damn it! Lookit dat punim! (His, not mine)
Then of course, this happened.
Ahhh, and yes this:)
And most recently... This
Followed by this...
So, of course now, whenever I try to do this...
My kids be all like "Biiiiiitch please."
So, I guess I'm just left with a whole lot of this
And, you know, somethings don't alway have to change... fat ass.
So here I am, living a life which is exponentially more insane than my past life. Educating myself on the ins and outs of raising a family, being an awesome wife, keeping a home and learning to duck when life throws shit.
*The order in which these events have taken place has been greatly exaggerated by the author of this Blog post.