Today during my lunch I saw a post that a friend of mine had posted about her neighbor. What it entailed was that her neighbor had bought rims worth $4,000 and he put them onto his 1998 piece of shit vehicle. Now I just had to laugh at this because this is something that I see everyday at work and at home. I drive past them and they drive past my house blaring Wiz Khalifa at a volume that can be heard as Tonopah, Nevada.
I can understand you needing something to get you from here to there, and that's fine. However, I do not understand why you would spend all this money for these high end rims and you stick them onto your 1992 Honda P.O.S with multi-colored doors and a rusted out hood with one side mirror hanging off! What the hell is wrong with you?! You could've used this money to buy yourself a brand new USED car! But NOOOOO...you just HAD to have the rims so you can show all of your friends how "GANGSTA" you are.
These cars are downright ridiculous! Often times, it's these white trash urban rednecks that own these damn things. At least in my neighborhood anyway! When they drive past my house, I want nothing more than to throw out a set of Spike Strips just as their doing 45 down a street clearly marked 25. When they get out to complain, I will reach into their car, yank out their radio and throw it right into a fucking pool! Then I will pull up their pants, take the belt, tie the pants over their head with it and kick them square in the ASS!
To all the McSkeezer WannabeMackDaddies out there, and this is for the white ones, stop spending money on making your piece of shit Honda or whatever vehicle that you drive look better. Use the money for something else! You got kids? Buy them a swing set! Take them to Disney World! Do something resourceful and useful for this thriving economy of ours! Don't spend it on rims, please?!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
What The Ghost Adventures Crew Have Done For Me
I became a huge fan of the show back in 2010 when I started to make changes to my life. I will never forget being inside the Willard Intercontinental Hotel in Washington DC on a Friday night. I was having trouble sleeping and I rarely, if ever, go to bed at 9pm. But that was then and this is now. But anyways, I turn on the Travel Channel to see what's on and, lo and behold, there was Zak, Nick and Aaron on a lockdown. Forgive my ever fading memory and don't hang me by my thumbs, but I don't remember the exact episode that I was watching.
And I thought to myself, "Wow! I believe in ghosts, but I never knew there was a show out there like this." Now, I've seen "Ghost Hunters" before and the show was okay. But something about these guys just sparked my interest in the Paranormal and Ghost Hunting. I've always had an interest in doing something like this, but out of fear of being labeled a weirdo, I went and lived a "normal" existence. But, the Ghost Adventures Crew put that spark back into me and for that I thank them.
I will also tell you what else they have done for me. I have been going to Ghost Adventures/Darkness Radio events for over a year now. I really enjoy going to them! Here's the story about my very first event.
It was at The Stanley Hotel in March 2011 and when I got there I didn't know a single person there. I was there by myself and did not know anybody other than those I talked to online. Then, I met Zory, the GAC Intern, and she welcomed me into the GAC Family. Just the kindest, warmest and kick butt person I've ever met. Then I met the Darkness Radio family, who also made me feel welcomed as well. I met Susan, Mallie and Dave, who are just absolutely fantastic hosts. In addition, I got to meet Mark and Debby Constantino, Chris Fleming, Aaron Sagers and Jeff Belanger, another group of awesome people.
Then, I met Zak, Aaron and Billy. The guys who put the spark back in me and made me turn myself around for the absolute best. I was a little shy at first when I met them, nervous too. But, I kept my cool and introduced myself to them. They were really nice to me and autographed their photos for me. Now, it was my birthday but I was too shy to even ask them to wish me a happy birthday. At least I told them later on and I got it! Yay!
After the event at the Stanley ended, I had found myself from having very few close friends to having an ARMY of them. So close we can smell each other's B.O.! However, I knew that I would be coming back for more events.
Three weeks later, I found myself at Ohio State Reformatory and made more new friends in the GAC and Darkness Radio family. But, if there is anything from this event that I have learned, you keep your friends close and stay as far the FUCK AWAY from the Crazies as you possibly can! Enough said!
In the course of the summer, I had come to an epiphany: I am no longer going to go to Disney World every single year for the rest of my life! I am going to do GAC and Darkness Radio events until the day I die and they'll have to find my ass floating around! And here's what my EVP will be: Sunflower.
I am still going to these events so if you happen to be at one of them look for a 5'7" tall red head in glasses wearing a Big Steppin' hoodie. Stop me and I will say hi and figure out if you friended me on Facebook or stalk me on Twitter. Just kidding!
In addition, The Ghost Adventures Crew have taught me a lot at how to conduct myself during an investigation. They taught me to not wear squeaky shoes (Thanks, Zak!), tag my audio whenever I have to sneeze, walk or burp, and to say thank you afterwards for communicating with me. I am also doing non-event investigations as well, too! I have gone out on my own with a team of investigators out of Virginia and we investigated Gettysburg and Bobby Mackey's Music World. I had a lot of fun and I've gotten much more enjoyment out of it than I did when I repeatedly went to Disney World and rode "It's a Small World" over and over again.
Which reminds me...Hey, Zak, if you read this, you do not want to go on "It's A Small World"! LOADED with dolls and, one time I was on there, a doll's head actually exploded off its body and landed in the water near ME! If it had been you, you'd have been swimming for the exit! Enough said!
I now conclude by telling you that the Ghost Adventures Crew has done so much for me. They put the spark AND the spunk back in me to realize what I want to truly do from now until my time has come to pick the place where I will haunt people for eternity, or at least until I find the Light. They have introduced me to people who didn't think they were weird for believing in the same things I thought I was weird for. They have stopped me from doing the same thing every year and have gotten me into something I really want to do over and over again. They may not know this, but they have done more for me than they realize. For that, I humbly thank them and show them nothing but love and respect.
Zak Bagans, Nick Groff, Aaron Goodwin, Billy Tolley, thank you so much!
XOXO Velma
My favorite scene thus far! Zak, I hope you're not still mad about that Clown doll I sent you at ScareFest! ((Hiding Behind Wall))
And I thought to myself, "Wow! I believe in ghosts, but I never knew there was a show out there like this." Now, I've seen "Ghost Hunters" before and the show was okay. But something about these guys just sparked my interest in the Paranormal and Ghost Hunting. I've always had an interest in doing something like this, but out of fear of being labeled a weirdo, I went and lived a "normal" existence. But, the Ghost Adventures Crew put that spark back into me and for that I thank them.
I will also tell you what else they have done for me. I have been going to Ghost Adventures/Darkness Radio events for over a year now. I really enjoy going to them! Here's the story about my very first event.
It was at The Stanley Hotel in March 2011 and when I got there I didn't know a single person there. I was there by myself and did not know anybody other than those I talked to online. Then, I met Zory, the GAC Intern, and she welcomed me into the GAC Family. Just the kindest, warmest and kick butt person I've ever met. Then I met the Darkness Radio family, who also made me feel welcomed as well. I met Susan, Mallie and Dave, who are just absolutely fantastic hosts. In addition, I got to meet Mark and Debby Constantino, Chris Fleming, Aaron Sagers and Jeff Belanger, another group of awesome people.
Then, I met Zak, Aaron and Billy. The guys who put the spark back in me and made me turn myself around for the absolute best. I was a little shy at first when I met them, nervous too. But, I kept my cool and introduced myself to them. They were really nice to me and autographed their photos for me. Now, it was my birthday but I was too shy to even ask them to wish me a happy birthday. At least I told them later on and I got it! Yay!
After the event at the Stanley ended, I had found myself from having very few close friends to having an ARMY of them. So close we can smell each other's B.O.! However, I knew that I would be coming back for more events.
Three weeks later, I found myself at Ohio State Reformatory and made more new friends in the GAC and Darkness Radio family. But, if there is anything from this event that I have learned, you keep your friends close and stay as far the FUCK AWAY from the Crazies as you possibly can! Enough said!
In the course of the summer, I had come to an epiphany: I am no longer going to go to Disney World every single year for the rest of my life! I am going to do GAC and Darkness Radio events until the day I die and they'll have to find my ass floating around! And here's what my EVP will be: Sunflower.
I am still going to these events so if you happen to be at one of them look for a 5'7" tall red head in glasses wearing a Big Steppin' hoodie. Stop me and I will say hi and figure out if you friended me on Facebook or stalk me on Twitter. Just kidding!
In addition, The Ghost Adventures Crew have taught me a lot at how to conduct myself during an investigation. They taught me to not wear squeaky shoes (Thanks, Zak!), tag my audio whenever I have to sneeze, walk or burp, and to say thank you afterwards for communicating with me. I am also doing non-event investigations as well, too! I have gone out on my own with a team of investigators out of Virginia and we investigated Gettysburg and Bobby Mackey's Music World. I had a lot of fun and I've gotten much more enjoyment out of it than I did when I repeatedly went to Disney World and rode "It's a Small World" over and over again.
Which reminds me...Hey, Zak, if you read this, you do not want to go on "It's A Small World"! LOADED with dolls and, one time I was on there, a doll's head actually exploded off its body and landed in the water near ME! If it had been you, you'd have been swimming for the exit! Enough said!
I now conclude by telling you that the Ghost Adventures Crew has done so much for me. They put the spark AND the spunk back in me to realize what I want to truly do from now until my time has come to pick the place where I will haunt people for eternity, or at least until I find the Light. They have introduced me to people who didn't think they were weird for believing in the same things I thought I was weird for. They have stopped me from doing the same thing every year and have gotten me into something I really want to do over and over again. They may not know this, but they have done more for me than they realize. For that, I humbly thank them and show them nothing but love and respect.
Zak Bagans, Nick Groff, Aaron Goodwin, Billy Tolley, thank you so much!
XOXO Velma
My favorite scene thus far! Zak, I hope you're not still mad about that Clown doll I sent you at ScareFest! ((Hiding Behind Wall))
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Justice for Trayvon Martin
Today I turned on the news and saw something that both shocked and angered me. In Sanford, Florida last month, a 17-year-old boy named Trayvon Martin went to the store for some Skittles and Iced Tea. On his way back, he was spotted by a man named George Zimmerman, who thought he looked suspicious and proceeded to call 911. Rather than proceed to let the police come and do their job, he followed Trayvon and caught up with him. Then Mr. Zimmerman accosted him and a scuffle ensued. Another person called 911 to ask police come and intervene on a scuffle occuring outside her house. The shouts of Trayvon could be heard in the 911 call. Shouts for "Help" and "Help Me," but help never came. Mr. Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon that night, taking the life of a promising young man. When the police arrived, Mr. Zimmerman said he did it in self-defense and that he was doing his duty as a Neighborhood Watch volunteer
Now, you think that's the end of the story, right? Sadly, this is just the beginning of a great injustice. And I am here to tell you why.
George Zimmerman, a man who once aspired to be a cop, suffered from something called "Hero Syndrome" according to an article. He went to college to study criminal justice. He legally carried a gun and took pride in his self-appointed role as Captain of the Night Patrol at the town house commons where he lived. He would go door-to-door telling the neighbors to watch out for "Young Black Men" and go around at night walking his dog and carrying this gun. In addition, he called 911 50 times within a span of months about suspicious activity, windows open, break-ins, etc.
If you ask me, the "job" had clearly gone to his head and upon seeing a "young black male" walk past his window, his overzealousness overcame him in his quest to be a "Hero." Here was his opportunity to become a hero and it was walking past his front window. Right place, right time for Mr. Zimmerman. Wrong time, wrong place for poor Trayvon.
I am in no way shape or form praising Mr. Zimmerman for his "heroic actions." What I see is not heroic at all. I call it an opportunity for murder. A muder in cold blood all for selfish purposes of wanting to be a "Hero."
George Zimmerman, you are no hero at all! Trayvon Martin's blood is on your hands and it is there still. I hope when you go to bed at night that you see his face and you hear his voice still calling for "help" as you so viciously took his life the night of February 26th. In truth, I do not know how you sleep at night knowing that you killed someone and you're walking around free when you ought to be in a jail cell. You are no hero! You are a murderer! A slime bag! And I hope you get what you deserve: LIFE IN PRISON OR THE DEATH PENALTY!
Please, to those of you who read this, please take your time and sign the petition to help bring this young man's killer to justice. Let's show this MURDERER he is not a HERO.
http://www.change.org/petitions/prosecute-the-killer-of-our-son-17-year-old-trayvon-martin
I know nothing can bring Trayvon Martin back, but let's do something and bring justice for his family. Let's put Mr. Zimmerman in jail where he belongs.
Now, you think that's the end of the story, right? Sadly, this is just the beginning of a great injustice. And I am here to tell you why.
George Zimmerman, a man who once aspired to be a cop, suffered from something called "Hero Syndrome" according to an article. He went to college to study criminal justice. He legally carried a gun and took pride in his self-appointed role as Captain of the Night Patrol at the town house commons where he lived. He would go door-to-door telling the neighbors to watch out for "Young Black Men" and go around at night walking his dog and carrying this gun. In addition, he called 911 50 times within a span of months about suspicious activity, windows open, break-ins, etc.
If you ask me, the "job" had clearly gone to his head and upon seeing a "young black male" walk past his window, his overzealousness overcame him in his quest to be a "Hero." Here was his opportunity to become a hero and it was walking past his front window. Right place, right time for Mr. Zimmerman. Wrong time, wrong place for poor Trayvon.
I am in no way shape or form praising Mr. Zimmerman for his "heroic actions." What I see is not heroic at all. I call it an opportunity for murder. A muder in cold blood all for selfish purposes of wanting to be a "Hero."
George Zimmerman, you are no hero at all! Trayvon Martin's blood is on your hands and it is there still. I hope when you go to bed at night that you see his face and you hear his voice still calling for "help" as you so viciously took his life the night of February 26th. In truth, I do not know how you sleep at night knowing that you killed someone and you're walking around free when you ought to be in a jail cell. You are no hero! You are a murderer! A slime bag! And I hope you get what you deserve: LIFE IN PRISON OR THE DEATH PENALTY!
Please, to those of you who read this, please take your time and sign the petition to help bring this young man's killer to justice. Let's show this MURDERER he is not a HERO.
http://www.change.org/petitions/prosecute-the-killer-of-our-son-17-year-old-trayvon-martin
I know nothing can bring Trayvon Martin back, but let's do something and bring justice for his family. Let's put Mr. Zimmerman in jail where he belongs.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Ode To Le Freak: End Of The Drama (Part 4)
Ahh, LC, you have failed to heed my warning, yet you continue. As if my three posts before did not get through to you, I am now forced...er, wait...voluntarily now posting a fourth!
I was informed by Stee that now that you have been called out, you have now taken your dramatic bullshit and have attempted to get an anonymous celebrity to take your side. Yet, that celebrity has a life of their own and has discontinued to listen to your whining baby bullshit. I do not blame them one bit. In addition, another cannot stand being involved in such drama and has asked that she be left out of it. I understand and sympathize with them. I can't take drama and, as a matter of fact, if there is drama, I am like a match in a hurricane: Out instantaneously!
However, since drama is becoming so frequent in my life now that you have made your unfortunate return, I am now going to put an end to it. So, yet another message to LC:
LC, you are taking things WAYYYYY too personally. Those jokes me and Stee shared at that time were definitely not about you and not aimed towards you in any way whatsoever. If I wanted to say something about you, I would consult with you well in advance before I said ANYTHING! In addition, get over yourself, please?! Stop trying to cover for yourself when you know you are wrong for what you did!
With that said, and with the week I have had, can you please get the fuck off my mind! Please do something productive, find a hobby, anything other than bashing people on Twitter!! With this, I bid thee farewell!
I was informed by Stee that now that you have been called out, you have now taken your dramatic bullshit and have attempted to get an anonymous celebrity to take your side. Yet, that celebrity has a life of their own and has discontinued to listen to your whining baby bullshit. I do not blame them one bit. In addition, another cannot stand being involved in such drama and has asked that she be left out of it. I understand and sympathize with them. I can't take drama and, as a matter of fact, if there is drama, I am like a match in a hurricane: Out instantaneously!
However, since drama is becoming so frequent in my life now that you have made your unfortunate return, I am now going to put an end to it. So, yet another message to LC:
LC, you are taking things WAYYYYY too personally. Those jokes me and Stee shared at that time were definitely not about you and not aimed towards you in any way whatsoever. If I wanted to say something about you, I would consult with you well in advance before I said ANYTHING! In addition, get over yourself, please?! Stop trying to cover for yourself when you know you are wrong for what you did!
With that said, and with the week I have had, can you please get the fuck off my mind! Please do something productive, find a hobby, anything other than bashing people on Twitter!! With this, I bid thee farewell!
Ode To Le Freak: Loshon Hora (Part 3)
So I got word that LC found out about my calling her out and now is trying to cover her ass. Well, I am here to tell you that once you're called out, you have just stepped into quick sand with me. Once you've stepped in, you will sink quickly and won't be able to come up for air.
I have had nothing but grief and migraines with LC over the past couple of years. I want it to end, but it seems that once she has disappeared she comes back with a major vengeance. I am trying to live my life without worry, but it seems that once things are on the up that LC makes an appearance.
Now, to these current events, I must respond by saying the following: Now you know how it feels to be humiliated. You humiliated Stee to the point where she was blocked for no reason other than what was based on your "Loshon Hora." Don't know what "Loshon Hora" means?! It's "bad talk" or gossip. In the community where I work, this is strictly forbidden. "Loshon Hora" hurts not only the person being spoken about, but it hurts the people that care for them as well as others around them. It's like gangrene: It spreads until finally the part of them heavily affected has to be cut away.
If you want to save face, LC, you will stop speaking "Loshon Hora" about someone I consider to be one of the truest friends I have. She knows when to hold them and when to fold them. Knows when to walk away when the dealing's done.
Now, with that said, take yourself off of Twitter and stop poisoning our air with your falsehoods.
I have had nothing but grief and migraines with LC over the past couple of years. I want it to end, but it seems that once she has disappeared she comes back with a major vengeance. I am trying to live my life without worry, but it seems that once things are on the up that LC makes an appearance.
Now, to these current events, I must respond by saying the following: Now you know how it feels to be humiliated. You humiliated Stee to the point where she was blocked for no reason other than what was based on your "Loshon Hora." Don't know what "Loshon Hora" means?! It's "bad talk" or gossip. In the community where I work, this is strictly forbidden. "Loshon Hora" hurts not only the person being spoken about, but it hurts the people that care for them as well as others around them. It's like gangrene: It spreads until finally the part of them heavily affected has to be cut away.
If you want to save face, LC, you will stop speaking "Loshon Hora" about someone I consider to be one of the truest friends I have. She knows when to hold them and when to fold them. Knows when to walk away when the dealing's done.
Now, with that said, take yourself off of Twitter and stop poisoning our air with your falsehoods.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sitting Shiva
I woke up this morning, despite my fatigue, and did not smell any coffee. However, what I did wake up to was nothing good. Nothing good at all. I woke up to find that my paternal grandfather had passed away. I was devastated and went to work with blood shot eyes and this weight on my shoulders. A weight the size of the Empire State Building. I could not carry on despite the feeling of enduring. I'm only human and I have my limits like everybody else.
Although I am standing on wood, I feel that the wood beneath my feet has begun to degrade. First, my grandfather, then both grandmothers and now my paternal grandfather. Although it's not fair, I feel things happen for a reason. God gives us things and then takes them away for a reason only because he loves us and wants us to learn.
To this, I just want to say, "God, I've learned enough already! You've given me obesity and I've overcome it! You've given me heartache and I've learned to walk away from it! You gave me strength and I am still learning how to wield it. Please give me a break?! But, I know that you mean well. You give me lessons despite the fact that I beg to learn no more. But, to this, you tell me that I still must be given lessons on how to live life."
I have endured so much over the 31 years I have lived on this Earth. I have learned so much and have experienced so many wonderful and terrible things. From each of these things, I am not the least bit sorry for going through. Despite the pain I had to go through, I am grateful for the journey I had to take in order to stand again. In layman's terms, I have ran the full measure, stumbled and gotten back on my feet. I dusted myself off and carried on, still running. For this, God, I thank you.
Sitting Shiva might be considered to be just sitting on a couch without shoes and a tear in your clothes, but it means so much more. When you lose someone you love, you are no longer wealthy. Your Versace shoes mean nothing nor do your Christian Dior silk shirts. When someone you love passes, you lose more than just a piece of yourself. You lose a bit of your spirit as well as your happiness.
My grandparents, both sides, will always be with me despite the fact that they are deceased. I will always keep them with me. Their advice and wisdom will stay with me. Forever.
Although I am standing on wood, I feel that the wood beneath my feet has begun to degrade. First, my grandfather, then both grandmothers and now my paternal grandfather. Although it's not fair, I feel things happen for a reason. God gives us things and then takes them away for a reason only because he loves us and wants us to learn.
To this, I just want to say, "God, I've learned enough already! You've given me obesity and I've overcome it! You've given me heartache and I've learned to walk away from it! You gave me strength and I am still learning how to wield it. Please give me a break?! But, I know that you mean well. You give me lessons despite the fact that I beg to learn no more. But, to this, you tell me that I still must be given lessons on how to live life."
I have endured so much over the 31 years I have lived on this Earth. I have learned so much and have experienced so many wonderful and terrible things. From each of these things, I am not the least bit sorry for going through. Despite the pain I had to go through, I am grateful for the journey I had to take in order to stand again. In layman's terms, I have ran the full measure, stumbled and gotten back on my feet. I dusted myself off and carried on, still running. For this, God, I thank you.
Sitting Shiva might be considered to be just sitting on a couch without shoes and a tear in your clothes, but it means so much more. When you lose someone you love, you are no longer wealthy. Your Versace shoes mean nothing nor do your Christian Dior silk shirts. When someone you love passes, you lose more than just a piece of yourself. You lose a bit of your spirit as well as your happiness.
My grandparents, both sides, will always be with me despite the fact that they are deceased. I will always keep them with me. Their advice and wisdom will stay with me. Forever.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
In Your Dreams: Ode to ZISHES (Parody of Daydream Believer)
This came about after too much Mucinex DM so if you like it, I love you. If you don't, bite me! So here it goes.
**Piano intro to Daydream Believer**
Ohh I could hide 'neath the halls of the blue bird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring.
But six rings and I rise, wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
I see you walk down the halls and you stank!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To A Daydream believer and A
Whore-cumming ZISH!
You once thought of him as a White knight on his steed!
Now you know how foolish you must be! And that good time starts and
then with a condom twice to spend.
But how much, skanky, do you really have?
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming ZISH!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh what can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Sing along, hum it, this is how I feel! BUWAHAHAH! Ode to the Mansfield Skankoids April 2011.
**Piano intro to Daydream Believer**
Ohh I could hide 'neath the halls of the blue bird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring.
But six rings and I rise, wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
I see you walk down the halls and you stank!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To A Daydream believer and A
Whore-cumming ZISH!
You once thought of him as a White knight on his steed!
Now you know how foolish you must be! And that good time starts and
then with a condom twice to spend.
But how much, skanky, do you really have?
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh What can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming ZISH!
Cheer up Sleepy ZISH, Oh what can it mean
To a Daydream Believer and A
Whore-Cumming Zish!
Sing along, hum it, this is how I feel! BUWAHAHAH! Ode to the Mansfield Skankoids April 2011.
My Roots: God Made Me Interesting
Like anybody, I have pride in my heritage, the culture which runs through my blood. Now, a few years back, I started to do some research into exactly what was running through my veins. Where exactly did my family come from? So, I asked members of my family and got various answers.
"You're Sicilian and Irish."
"You're Italian, period!"
"You're Irish, Italian, German and Czech!"
There were other variations, but with time and effort, I managed to break it down from both the maternal and paternal side. So, let's start with my mom's side first.
Maternal Grandmother: Italian and Greek. Her parents came from the province of Puglia, from the town of Brindisi. Puglia is the "heel" of Italy and is quite close to Greece. I was then informed that my great great grandmother is buried on the island of Corfu in Greece, which is where she came from. Therefore, my grandmother is of Italian and Greek origin.
Maternal Grandfather 1: Irish. My grandmother was married twice and this is never, ever talked about...until now. Maternal Grandfather's last name was Grant and the Grants were of Irish decent. I never truly acknowledged him due to the fact that neither my mother nor grandmother rarely told me about him. When I was a little girl, I got to meet him once and that was the only time. Why? Well, when your grandfather is known as "The Town Drunk" you'd want to distance yourself from that, right?
Maternal Grandfather 2: Italian and Sicilian. My grandmother's second husband, whom I consider to be my true grandfather, was the only father figure I had growing up. His parents came from two different parts of Italy. My great grandfather came from the town of Monteferrante, which means "Foot of the Mountain." This town is located in the province of Abbruzzo in Central Italy. My great grandmother came from the island of Sicily, which is a whole different kind of Italian in and of itself.
And now onto my dad's side and what I have is not much.
Paternal Grandmother: Polish Jewish. My late grandmother's family came here from Poland after the Holocaust to have a better life and to escape from the horrible memories of the camps. Her family came from Warsaw and were simple, hard-working Jewish folks. You know the whole story.
Paternal Grandfather: Russian/Polish Jewish. My grandfather, who is still kicking, and his family came from Lodz and Leningrad. They, like my grandmother's family, also came to America after the Holocaust. His side was also hard-working and they prospered, becoming a prominent, well-known family in the Maryland/Virginia area. They are in lighting, all I'm going to say.
Told you I didn't have much on my paternal side.
So, what does it all boil down to? Well, I will boil it down to this:
When my mom and dad hooked up and created me, God said to himself, "Hmm, an Italian girl and a good Jewish boy, huh? This kid is going to be interesting!" So, he got a bowl and took a look at the ingredients known as "DNA."
"Okay, this is going to be a baby girl so let's see...bah bah bah...gotta give her that good ole Jewish Mother guilt. She has to have that. There we go! And now a little something from her mother and...Oh, no! She's Greek! Oh, dear ME! I cannot leave out the nagging, cannot leave out the nagging. Ohh! Give her a little bit of that and add a little bit of "Talking Too Loudly" and "Tempermental Drunk." That should do it! And now back to dad and...oh, dear...Russian. I do not know what's worse: The Tempermental Irish Drunk or the Mad Dancing Russian Drunk. Let's put some in and see what happens! What do we have left? Okay, let's make her smart, but throw in a little bit of forgetfulness. Makes her more interesting. And, just to make her even more interesting...an extra touch of BITCH! And now let her bake for nine months and see how she comes out."
So here I am, ladies and gents, how do you think I turned out?
And now some folk songs from my lovely mixed up bloodline. Enjoy!
"You're Sicilian and Irish."
"You're Italian, period!"
"You're Irish, Italian, German and Czech!"
There were other variations, but with time and effort, I managed to break it down from both the maternal and paternal side. So, let's start with my mom's side first.
Maternal Grandmother: Italian and Greek. Her parents came from the province of Puglia, from the town of Brindisi. Puglia is the "heel" of Italy and is quite close to Greece. I was then informed that my great great grandmother is buried on the island of Corfu in Greece, which is where she came from. Therefore, my grandmother is of Italian and Greek origin.
Maternal Grandfather 1: Irish. My grandmother was married twice and this is never, ever talked about...until now. Maternal Grandfather's last name was Grant and the Grants were of Irish decent. I never truly acknowledged him due to the fact that neither my mother nor grandmother rarely told me about him. When I was a little girl, I got to meet him once and that was the only time. Why? Well, when your grandfather is known as "The Town Drunk" you'd want to distance yourself from that, right?
Maternal Grandfather 2: Italian and Sicilian. My grandmother's second husband, whom I consider to be my true grandfather, was the only father figure I had growing up. His parents came from two different parts of Italy. My great grandfather came from the town of Monteferrante, which means "Foot of the Mountain." This town is located in the province of Abbruzzo in Central Italy. My great grandmother came from the island of Sicily, which is a whole different kind of Italian in and of itself.
And now onto my dad's side and what I have is not much.
Paternal Grandmother: Polish Jewish. My late grandmother's family came here from Poland after the Holocaust to have a better life and to escape from the horrible memories of the camps. Her family came from Warsaw and were simple, hard-working Jewish folks. You know the whole story.
Paternal Grandfather: Russian/Polish Jewish. My grandfather, who is still kicking, and his family came from Lodz and Leningrad. They, like my grandmother's family, also came to America after the Holocaust. His side was also hard-working and they prospered, becoming a prominent, well-known family in the Maryland/Virginia area. They are in lighting, all I'm going to say.
Told you I didn't have much on my paternal side.
So, what does it all boil down to? Well, I will boil it down to this:
When my mom and dad hooked up and created me, God said to himself, "Hmm, an Italian girl and a good Jewish boy, huh? This kid is going to be interesting!" So, he got a bowl and took a look at the ingredients known as "DNA."
"Okay, this is going to be a baby girl so let's see...bah bah bah...gotta give her that good ole Jewish Mother guilt. She has to have that. There we go! And now a little something from her mother and...Oh, no! She's Greek! Oh, dear ME! I cannot leave out the nagging, cannot leave out the nagging. Ohh! Give her a little bit of that and add a little bit of "Talking Too Loudly" and "Tempermental Drunk." That should do it! And now back to dad and...oh, dear...Russian. I do not know what's worse: The Tempermental Irish Drunk or the Mad Dancing Russian Drunk. Let's put some in and see what happens! What do we have left? Okay, let's make her smart, but throw in a little bit of forgetfulness. Makes her more interesting. And, just to make her even more interesting...an extra touch of BITCH! And now let her bake for nine months and see how she comes out."
So here I am, ladies and gents, how do you think I turned out?
And now some folk songs from my lovely mixed up bloodline. Enjoy!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Tonight's "Ghost Adventures" and the Issue of Sex Trafficking
Tonight's premiere of "Ghost Adventures" was not just another episode about capturing spirit voices through a Spirit Box or a PX device. It became so much more than that. It not only opened our eyes that spirits do exist in another way and can live amongst us. Tonight's episode opened our eyes to something many know about, but some feel helpless to stop: Sex and Human Trafficking.
The Place: Portland, Oregon. The Shanghai Tunnels. In the 19th century, the practice of "Shanghai-ing" human beings was in full swing. Unknown victims would go to brothels, bordellos or even underground pubs not realizing that they might be spotted by these pimps and tagged. They would be drugged and then sent into slavery to these sea captains waiting at port.
You think that the practice of Shanghai-ing ended with the close of the 19th, even the 20th century. We are wrong! To this day, this practice continues in the form of Human and Sex Trafficking, known also as Prostitution.
Some stories go like this: A young girl, sometimes before she even turns the age of 13, often feeling like her parents do not understand her. She wants to grow up faster, thinks she knows everything about anything. So, she begins to rebel, not just gradually but sometimes over night. She begins to wear clothing her parents object to. She hangs around with people whom her parents know to be a bad influence on their daughter. Because of these negative peers, they somehow convince her to run away and be free of her parents' rules and regulations. She is convinced, thinking she would have a better life without them telling her what to do, what to wear and whom she can spend time with. So, without a word, their daughter leaves home and never returns.
That same young girl, now a woman on the streets, is soon met by some man who says he can give her everything her own father could never give her: Love and attention. He convinces her further by promising her money and a place to live where she can wear nice clothes. That woman is very much convinced of this man's promises and she falls under his spell. Then, time passes and the promises turn into threats of violence and those threats give way to the ultimate form of hate: Violent Assaults. This man has now become her pimp. He isn't showing her the love he promised her. He is showing her that she is his "property" and that he "owns" her body. And if she does try to run or go to the police or even go home, he would find her and punish her. So she stays.
That young girl, no longer a woman, but property made to walk the streets in all kinds of weather, is now standing at the corner of some Red Light District. She stands there, sometimes in the snow, shivering and begging to go some place warm just to wait for a "date." But she cannot because, from a distance, her pimp is watching her. As she stands there freezing, she looks back on her life before this. When she was someone's little girl. When she was truly loved not by her pimp, but by her parents, who are definitely home waiting for her to return so they could, once again, tell her that they loved her and that they missed her terribly.
A lot of these young girls who are now women of the night came from this very story that I just told. They had parents who loved them, but because of peer pressure and feeling misunderstood, they ran away thinking there was a better life for them out there. But what they got was a living hell. Some managed to escape it and survive. There are a few who tried and lost their lives trying to escape the lifestyle they came into.
It saddens me to know that the practice of Human Trafficking and Child Sex Rings exist in this modern day and age. We are aware that this is "common" practice in some Asian countries, but we never in our right minds ever think it could be occuring here on our very own soil. That is, until tonight's premiere episode of "Ghost Adventures." In the episode, a young woman was arrested for prostitution. They blurred her face out and disguised her voice to protect her identity. Turns out she was a fan of the show. Tragic. Very tragic.
I am grateful for my mom being strict on me as a teenager despite my many rebellious streaks. If it weren't for her, I would not be the person that I am today. So, to those teenaged girls out there who feel like their parents don't love them and they want to run away from it all, your parents do love you. However, they love you enough to protect you from the bad that is out there.
The Place: Portland, Oregon. The Shanghai Tunnels. In the 19th century, the practice of "Shanghai-ing" human beings was in full swing. Unknown victims would go to brothels, bordellos or even underground pubs not realizing that they might be spotted by these pimps and tagged. They would be drugged and then sent into slavery to these sea captains waiting at port.
You think that the practice of Shanghai-ing ended with the close of the 19th, even the 20th century. We are wrong! To this day, this practice continues in the form of Human and Sex Trafficking, known also as Prostitution.
Some stories go like this: A young girl, sometimes before she even turns the age of 13, often feeling like her parents do not understand her. She wants to grow up faster, thinks she knows everything about anything. So, she begins to rebel, not just gradually but sometimes over night. She begins to wear clothing her parents object to. She hangs around with people whom her parents know to be a bad influence on their daughter. Because of these negative peers, they somehow convince her to run away and be free of her parents' rules and regulations. She is convinced, thinking she would have a better life without them telling her what to do, what to wear and whom she can spend time with. So, without a word, their daughter leaves home and never returns.
That same young girl, now a woman on the streets, is soon met by some man who says he can give her everything her own father could never give her: Love and attention. He convinces her further by promising her money and a place to live where she can wear nice clothes. That woman is very much convinced of this man's promises and she falls under his spell. Then, time passes and the promises turn into threats of violence and those threats give way to the ultimate form of hate: Violent Assaults. This man has now become her pimp. He isn't showing her the love he promised her. He is showing her that she is his "property" and that he "owns" her body. And if she does try to run or go to the police or even go home, he would find her and punish her. So she stays.
That young girl, no longer a woman, but property made to walk the streets in all kinds of weather, is now standing at the corner of some Red Light District. She stands there, sometimes in the snow, shivering and begging to go some place warm just to wait for a "date." But she cannot because, from a distance, her pimp is watching her. As she stands there freezing, she looks back on her life before this. When she was someone's little girl. When she was truly loved not by her pimp, but by her parents, who are definitely home waiting for her to return so they could, once again, tell her that they loved her and that they missed her terribly.
A lot of these young girls who are now women of the night came from this very story that I just told. They had parents who loved them, but because of peer pressure and feeling misunderstood, they ran away thinking there was a better life for them out there. But what they got was a living hell. Some managed to escape it and survive. There are a few who tried and lost their lives trying to escape the lifestyle they came into.
It saddens me to know that the practice of Human Trafficking and Child Sex Rings exist in this modern day and age. We are aware that this is "common" practice in some Asian countries, but we never in our right minds ever think it could be occuring here on our very own soil. That is, until tonight's premiere episode of "Ghost Adventures." In the episode, a young woman was arrested for prostitution. They blurred her face out and disguised her voice to protect her identity. Turns out she was a fan of the show. Tragic. Very tragic.
I am grateful for my mom being strict on me as a teenager despite my many rebellious streaks. If it weren't for her, I would not be the person that I am today. So, to those teenaged girls out there who feel like their parents don't love them and they want to run away from it all, your parents do love you. However, they love you enough to protect you from the bad that is out there.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Who Is Responsible For My Brain??
I have a lot of people to thank for my thought process and my hard-biting wit, wisdom and humor. You can say that my inspiration started at childhood. My family was the very first on the block to have HBO and cable for that matter. I would often sneak out of my bedroom so I could go and watch the HBO Comedy Specials.
The two major comedians who influenced my style and my way of thought, despite the fact that they are long gone, continue to influence me to this day. Who are those two comedians? George Carlin and Sam Kinison. Yes! A man who inspired to break down the walls by saying those "Seven Dirty Words You Cannot Say on Television." And a man, a former preacher, who wanted to taste it all and not give a flying FUCK about what he said and did.
George and Sam, you always have and always will be a continuing influence on my life and will forever shape and mold me into the sharp-witted, hard-biting person that I am today. I see life through different glasses, not essentially rose-colored but sort of a clearer blue, me thinks. And I have George and Sam to thank.
A lot of you out there are probably thinking, "Holy shit! Those two trash mouths influenced this beautiful young lady?!" Yeah, they did! If you don't like it, tough shit! George Carlin put it so eloquently by saying that there are "Two knobs on the radio." In this case, in this digital world, there are two "knobs" to the web page. One takes you to another website and the other closes the window completely. You don't have to read this post! You can either go back to the page where you started or you can close it out completely and carry on with your playing the online slot machine with money you do not necessarily have to gamble with in the first place.
There's the Carlin influence there. And now onto the Kinison. Now, Kinison always had problems with women in his life. He always talked about it in his act and even came up with a very brilliant idea. This was his way of interacting with his audience, the males in particular. He would find a guy who had a woman just chew him up and spit him out. Now, he went around and got several guys to tell their stories. The one with the worst story was the winner and the special prize: Call up their ex-girlfriend and scream obscenities at them till they eventually hung up. Brilliance there! I would do the same thing, but for the females. I would line them all up, hear their stories, pick a winner and call up their ex-boyfriend and chew them out till they hung up.
I would love to do that to my ex-boyfriend. I would love to call up that asshole and tell him exactly how I feel about him. However, I have forgiven him and have moved on with my life and he isn't worth an ounce of my energy nor a second of my time. He had his chance to explain himself, but he's failing to see what he did wrong.
And now, I leave you with two clips of my heroes at their absolute finest.
The two major comedians who influenced my style and my way of thought, despite the fact that they are long gone, continue to influence me to this day. Who are those two comedians? George Carlin and Sam Kinison. Yes! A man who inspired to break down the walls by saying those "Seven Dirty Words You Cannot Say on Television." And a man, a former preacher, who wanted to taste it all and not give a flying FUCK about what he said and did.
George and Sam, you always have and always will be a continuing influence on my life and will forever shape and mold me into the sharp-witted, hard-biting person that I am today. I see life through different glasses, not essentially rose-colored but sort of a clearer blue, me thinks. And I have George and Sam to thank.
A lot of you out there are probably thinking, "Holy shit! Those two trash mouths influenced this beautiful young lady?!" Yeah, they did! If you don't like it, tough shit! George Carlin put it so eloquently by saying that there are "Two knobs on the radio." In this case, in this digital world, there are two "knobs" to the web page. One takes you to another website and the other closes the window completely. You don't have to read this post! You can either go back to the page where you started or you can close it out completely and carry on with your playing the online slot machine with money you do not necessarily have to gamble with in the first place.
There's the Carlin influence there. And now onto the Kinison. Now, Kinison always had problems with women in his life. He always talked about it in his act and even came up with a very brilliant idea. This was his way of interacting with his audience, the males in particular. He would find a guy who had a woman just chew him up and spit him out. Now, he went around and got several guys to tell their stories. The one with the worst story was the winner and the special prize: Call up their ex-girlfriend and scream obscenities at them till they eventually hung up. Brilliance there! I would do the same thing, but for the females. I would line them all up, hear their stories, pick a winner and call up their ex-boyfriend and chew them out till they hung up.
I would love to do that to my ex-boyfriend. I would love to call up that asshole and tell him exactly how I feel about him. However, I have forgiven him and have moved on with my life and he isn't worth an ounce of my energy nor a second of my time. He had his chance to explain himself, but he's failing to see what he did wrong.
And now, I leave you with two clips of my heroes at their absolute finest.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
In Your Dreams: The Nightmare Continues
Now, I have had a lot of success with my last two posts, so now I feel the need to add a third...must to my dismay! Here I thought I was done with the whole GAC Fan Girls, Crazies, Stalkers, Whores and ZISHES. Sadly, I am NOT DONE!
Just now, thanks to a good friend, I was informed that someone, clearly who has not read my blog posts, has posted that they are in a relationship with, you guessed it, Zak Bagans. And, once more, I had to report and block this knucklehead for false information. If I had my way in life, I would find her address via Google Maps, drive there and, once she answered the door, I would bitch slap her till she begged for her mommy.
Come on, we've all had our cheery Teenaged fantasies at one point. Hell! My mother even dreamed of marrying Donny Osmond, but got me as a Consolation Prize instead. Swell 20th birthday present, right? Donny Osmond or a baby that will grow up, quit college and blame her miserable existence on you while you blame the outcome of your life on her!
In my case, I've always dreamed I would marry Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys. However, reality didn't step in until well into my late 20s to tell me that Kevin Richardson would never, ever be mine. You can say he was way out of my league. But, anyway, I look at these teenaged girls who fawn over pop icons such as Justin Bieber, Chris Brown, Kid Cudi and Zak Bagans, and I see my teenaged self through them. I honestly want to tell them the GOD'S honest truth which my own family had failed to do when I was their age.
That advice: "Sweetheart, you may have an obsession with them now, but wait till you are a little bit older and someone who will absolutely blow your mind away will leave this one in the dust. Trust me!"
I wish I had this advice when I got physically sick and vomited over the news that Kevin Richardson was marrying someone other than me back in college. Then the blow would have been much more less devastating. Yeah, I did throw up over the news. For a teenaged girl, news that the man of "your dreams" is marrying someone else will do that to you.
But now, I must do the following and show you the exact, AND DEAD HONEST REASON, why I feel the guys no longer do public events aside from other projects and busy work schedules. Please note!
Just now, thanks to a good friend, I was informed that someone, clearly who has not read my blog posts, has posted that they are in a relationship with, you guessed it, Zak Bagans. And, once more, I had to report and block this knucklehead for false information. If I had my way in life, I would find her address via Google Maps, drive there and, once she answered the door, I would bitch slap her till she begged for her mommy.
Come on, we've all had our cheery Teenaged fantasies at one point. Hell! My mother even dreamed of marrying Donny Osmond, but got me as a Consolation Prize instead. Swell 20th birthday present, right? Donny Osmond or a baby that will grow up, quit college and blame her miserable existence on you while you blame the outcome of your life on her!
In my case, I've always dreamed I would marry Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys. However, reality didn't step in until well into my late 20s to tell me that Kevin Richardson would never, ever be mine. You can say he was way out of my league. But, anyway, I look at these teenaged girls who fawn over pop icons such as Justin Bieber, Chris Brown, Kid Cudi and Zak Bagans, and I see my teenaged self through them. I honestly want to tell them the GOD'S honest truth which my own family had failed to do when I was their age.
That advice: "Sweetheart, you may have an obsession with them now, but wait till you are a little bit older and someone who will absolutely blow your mind away will leave this one in the dust. Trust me!"
I wish I had this advice when I got physically sick and vomited over the news that Kevin Richardson was marrying someone other than me back in college. Then the blow would have been much more less devastating. Yeah, I did throw up over the news. For a teenaged girl, news that the man of "your dreams" is marrying someone else will do that to you.
But now, I must do the following and show you the exact, AND DEAD HONEST REASON, why I feel the guys no longer do public events aside from other projects and busy work schedules. Please note!
Jail bait age, wearing a mini dress. Yeah, total ZISH example here. TOWN BICYCLE SKANK HERE!!!
Friday, March 2, 2012
In Your Dreams: Aftermath
In the aftermath of last night's post, I have generated a lot of views and have gotten positive feedback from it. However, what I did not expect was to be called out myself. I was informed by a good GAC Family member that the person whom I have called out had decided to call me out. And she did it in the worst way. She decided to call me out by calling me a "fucking bitch."
Now, I do not mind being called a bitch because, technically, I am a bitch. But to call me a "Fucking Bitch" is kind of like hitting a beehive with a Louisville Slugger. Hit me once, you invoke the entire hive and have brought on an entire world of hurt. Like this same good GAC Family member warned this person, she was playing with fire.
I used to watch what I say because I would feel really bad if I hurt someone else's feelings by what I said to them. However, times have changed and I've grown up and learned from life. I have discontinued the practice of feeling bad for what I say and feel. I make no apologies for what I said last night. It needed to be said and, GOD KNOWS, it needed to be addressed and brought to the table with a side of stuffing and Mashed potatoes.
These GAC Fan Crazies, Stalkers, Whores and ZISHES can hate on me all they want and post whatever messages of hatred they would like on my Facebook Wall or on my Twitter timeline. They can make up rumors about me, call me names and do whatever they want to push me down. But I have what they do not have: Dignity and Respect. I may fall down, but it is only brief. I get back up, dust myself off and continue on my journey with my head held high.
Like I said before and will continue to tell myself from now until my dying day: I AM UNDEFEATED!
With that said, I am going to carry on, keep it real, shoot straight from the hip and go on with my life.
Now, I do not mind being called a bitch because, technically, I am a bitch. But to call me a "Fucking Bitch" is kind of like hitting a beehive with a Louisville Slugger. Hit me once, you invoke the entire hive and have brought on an entire world of hurt. Like this same good GAC Family member warned this person, she was playing with fire.
I used to watch what I say because I would feel really bad if I hurt someone else's feelings by what I said to them. However, times have changed and I've grown up and learned from life. I have discontinued the practice of feeling bad for what I say and feel. I make no apologies for what I said last night. It needed to be said and, GOD KNOWS, it needed to be addressed and brought to the table with a side of stuffing and Mashed potatoes.
These GAC Fan Crazies, Stalkers, Whores and ZISHES can hate on me all they want and post whatever messages of hatred they would like on my Facebook Wall or on my Twitter timeline. They can make up rumors about me, call me names and do whatever they want to push me down. But I have what they do not have: Dignity and Respect. I may fall down, but it is only brief. I get back up, dust myself off and continue on my journey with my head held high.
Like I said before and will continue to tell myself from now until my dying day: I AM UNDEFEATED!
With that said, I am going to carry on, keep it real, shoot straight from the hip and go on with my life.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
In Your Dreams: GAC Fan Girls, Stalkers, Whores and ZISHES
Tonight, when I got home, I do what I always do. I get dinner, get into my PJs and turn on my laptop. I saw that I had messages from a friend of mine who instructed me to go to our group and check out what someone had posted. So, I do so and what I read made me laugh hysterically till I pissed myself not once but twice. And it also made me highly irritated that it inspired me to write this post.
This person, whom I have deemed to be a GAC Crazy, posted something called "Why I Love Zak Bagans." Innocuous-sounding, right? That is until I read through it and saw that she was crazy enough to actually DECLARE she wanted to marry him and live with him. To this, I said to myself, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND TO BE POSTING THIS SHIT?!"
So, after my friend posted her comment, I went ahead and posted how I felt about it. When I call people out, I do not do it nicely. When I call people out, I make it known to them how I feel about their behavior. For those of you that know me, my "Calling Outs" are both Cyanide-laced and Funny at the same time. I hold nothing back and make no apologies for it whatsoever. I used to give a shit about what I said to people, but then I discontinued the practice. And I find that if I am going to keep it real, I might as well stop giving a shit about what I said.
So, anyway, I told this GAC Crazy that she was very delusional for thinking that she even had a remote shot at hooking up with Zak. She had a better chance of hooking up with a Gorilla's nut sack than with Mr. Bagans himself. I have met him quite a few times and have heard him say that he is definitely not the marrying kind. As a matter of fact, I can't even picture him being domesticated at all. I can never see him as one who will drive a Mini-Van full of Mini-Zaks to soccer practice or play dates. Hell! I can't even picture him singing "Hey Diddle Diddle" or "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Funny visual, right?
I made sure that my message on Facebook came across clear and to the point. I will not stand for any immature GAC Fan Girl behavior from anyone regardless of age. If you have these fantasies about him, please do me and other mature people a huge favor: Write it in a journal and keep it to yourself! Don't air your Sickly Sweet Cheery fantasies out in the open! You're just going to make yourself look fucking crazier than that homeless guy standing on the corner holding a sign that says "I'm Homeless! Will Blow You For Food."
I have been going to these public events for quite some time now and have learned very well who to trust and who to avoid. A large majority of it has been avoiding, especially at the Meet and Greets. One particular event, I took notice of this girl, most likely jail bait age, wearing the SHORTEST mini dress known to man. So short you could've seen her Coochie Coochie Coo. A good GAC Family member refers to them as "Whores," but other good GAC Family members have come up with a very accurate word for it: ZISHES. What does this stand for, you ask? Make note...
Z = Zak
I = Is
S = Soooooo
H = HOT!
Now, don't get me wrong, Zak is quite a handsome fellow. He looks great on the outside and I think that's all these bitches are seeing. They don't give a shit about what's on the inside. As a matter of fact, their focus is concentrated not on his eyes, but what's below the Vampire Belt Buckle. Yeah, you can entertain that thought for a while.
With that said, if you are a ZISH, please save me the aggravation and the late night Twitter messages and not follow me. I will only call you out for what you truly are and block you before you can even get a word in edge wise. Comprende?
I think, and this is just my dead honest opinion, that the guys are not doing any more public events because of these GAC Crazies and ZISHES showing up to them. They hope to meet them to show off their assets, or in some cases to show them how truly bat shit crazy they are in real life rather than on Facebook or Twitter. To these GAC Crazies and ZISHES, I have something to say to this: THANKS FOR RUINING IT FOR THE REST OF US! For the ZISHES, go home, take off that dress and make up and go back to dressing normally for a change! For the Crazies, go back to Pennhurst or Trans-Allegheney where you obviously came from and clearly belong!
And now with that said, I am going to go back to my normal existence and carry on as a Loving, Respectful member of the GAC Family. True GAC Fans got my back on this one.
And now a message from my Lord and Master, Foamy the Squirrel.
This person, whom I have deemed to be a GAC Crazy, posted something called "Why I Love Zak Bagans." Innocuous-sounding, right? That is until I read through it and saw that she was crazy enough to actually DECLARE she wanted to marry him and live with him. To this, I said to myself, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND TO BE POSTING THIS SHIT?!"
So, after my friend posted her comment, I went ahead and posted how I felt about it. When I call people out, I do not do it nicely. When I call people out, I make it known to them how I feel about their behavior. For those of you that know me, my "Calling Outs" are both Cyanide-laced and Funny at the same time. I hold nothing back and make no apologies for it whatsoever. I used to give a shit about what I said to people, but then I discontinued the practice. And I find that if I am going to keep it real, I might as well stop giving a shit about what I said.
So, anyway, I told this GAC Crazy that she was very delusional for thinking that she even had a remote shot at hooking up with Zak. She had a better chance of hooking up with a Gorilla's nut sack than with Mr. Bagans himself. I have met him quite a few times and have heard him say that he is definitely not the marrying kind. As a matter of fact, I can't even picture him being domesticated at all. I can never see him as one who will drive a Mini-Van full of Mini-Zaks to soccer practice or play dates. Hell! I can't even picture him singing "Hey Diddle Diddle" or "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Funny visual, right?
I made sure that my message on Facebook came across clear and to the point. I will not stand for any immature GAC Fan Girl behavior from anyone regardless of age. If you have these fantasies about him, please do me and other mature people a huge favor: Write it in a journal and keep it to yourself! Don't air your Sickly Sweet Cheery fantasies out in the open! You're just going to make yourself look fucking crazier than that homeless guy standing on the corner holding a sign that says "I'm Homeless! Will Blow You For Food."
I have been going to these public events for quite some time now and have learned very well who to trust and who to avoid. A large majority of it has been avoiding, especially at the Meet and Greets. One particular event, I took notice of this girl, most likely jail bait age, wearing the SHORTEST mini dress known to man. So short you could've seen her Coochie Coochie Coo. A good GAC Family member refers to them as "Whores," but other good GAC Family members have come up with a very accurate word for it: ZISHES. What does this stand for, you ask? Make note...
Z = Zak
I = Is
S = Soooooo
H = HOT!
Now, don't get me wrong, Zak is quite a handsome fellow. He looks great on the outside and I think that's all these bitches are seeing. They don't give a shit about what's on the inside. As a matter of fact, their focus is concentrated not on his eyes, but what's below the Vampire Belt Buckle. Yeah, you can entertain that thought for a while.
With that said, if you are a ZISH, please save me the aggravation and the late night Twitter messages and not follow me. I will only call you out for what you truly are and block you before you can even get a word in edge wise. Comprende?
I think, and this is just my dead honest opinion, that the guys are not doing any more public events because of these GAC Crazies and ZISHES showing up to them. They hope to meet them to show off their assets, or in some cases to show them how truly bat shit crazy they are in real life rather than on Facebook or Twitter. To these GAC Crazies and ZISHES, I have something to say to this: THANKS FOR RUINING IT FOR THE REST OF US! For the ZISHES, go home, take off that dress and make up and go back to dressing normally for a change! For the Crazies, go back to Pennhurst or Trans-Allegheney where you obviously came from and clearly belong!
And now with that said, I am going to go back to my normal existence and carry on as a Loving, Respectful member of the GAC Family. True GAC Fans got my back on this one.
And now a message from my Lord and Master, Foamy the Squirrel.
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