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29 August 2015 @ 02:47 am
It was a day like any other day. Taco scent hung in the air as I placed the container of sour cream on the table. Everything was laid out and everything was perfect. Who knew soon everything would be so wrong.
Layering on the meat, lettuce, bell peppers, tomatoes, cheese and salsa. It was a master piece.
Only to be topped by the tangy creamy lushness of
Pure and Natural Sour Cream!

Reaching out the plastic is cold in my hand.
My finger tips gripping the rim of the lid.
Pulling the Lid back.


I slammed the lid down.

I look down at the lid again

Does Daisy stand more than just the company name?
Is sour cream made from people?
They had that breast milk ice cream; why wouldn't they try sour cream?
Does "Pure & Natural" mean people milk?

All of these questions tumbled down my mind and into my mouth.
The other people in the room couldn't understand these questions though.
It was due to the terrified screaming laughter that was peppered amongst it all.

In the past whenever I have ever pulled off a plastic lid, the safety seal on the inside

has either been blank or a repeat of the company logo.
Never have I been punk’ed by my sour cream.
Slowly coming to grips with what I saw.
I showed everyone.

It was just a beautiful mother and her cute daughter.
Surely they wouldn't make sour scream out of people...
BUT then I saw

DSC02045-close up 2x.jpg
Was her name Joy? Was she still breast-feeding?
Was her name Joy????

We still ate it, because fuck Daisy Human Sour Cream is fucking expensive,
but I will never forget the faithful day that I was introduced to the
production side of the Sour Scream side
Of Daisy.

The feels: scaredscared
Playing on Repeat: Marilyn Manson - This is Halloween
27 August 2015 @ 03:37 am
Cleaning out your closet can be literal or figuratively, well I am here to do both. With my closet or more likely sections of my bedroom cleaned I stumbled upon two stories. One was written at a place I should have not been writing and the other one was inspired by the place I shouldn’t have been writing at. Both stories where forgotten and shoved away. I didn’t think to share them until now but they deserve to live in the light. They have not been tweaked other then fixing my spelling errors.

Going to warn for adult content, Master/Submissive roles, Daddy/little girl roles, Rough play, BDSM play.

Read more...Collapse )
The feels: predatorypredatory
Playing on Repeat: BANKS - Beggin For Thread
26 August 2015 @ 05:46 am
A little while ago I wrote about being sick and being lucky enough to be able to go to the doctor. Which I was wonderfully blessed to get the medicine I needed and start to get better.

I have taken all the medicine I was giving. I was able to beat the illness before it traveled to my sinuses and my left ear. It took about two weeks to finish all the antibiotics, but I noticed my cough was lingering. Asking around, the general census was that the cold chest thing I caught but had been a virus. That I shouldn't worry and it just let the virus run its course.

I would be fine with this advice, but I speak for a living as a tech helpdesk agent. I have never felt as blessed as when I have a mute button available to me. It saves the person I am on the phone with from losing their hearing due to my horrible cough. My poor co-workers must think I have the pox or the consumption at this point. I keep my desk clean all the time and Lysol my keyboard, headset and monitors about once a month.

After a horrible lung rattling tears running down my face coughing spell, one of my favorite co-workers came over, "I can hit you on the back if you need. Like really hard..." Everything in me stop as I turned to face him my face must have had an astonished look upon it because then he added, "Just say the word and I will." Honestly lead my tongue to agree. He started to walk away, distracted by something. "Yes, yeah" I said louder. "You just say" He came back over joking with me. "Can't threaten me with a good time." I added nonchalantly. He continued on with his sentence then dead stopped as what I said sunk in. "So, what it that your thing? Getting hit really hard on the back?" I stared at him then gave a slight smirk before turning back around.

So having the never ending cough is horrible when I am trying to sleep, talk or you know just be alive. But the silver lining is that I got un-nerve a coworker and that was fun.

Here's to hoping I survive this and go back to a non coughing existence soon.

Cough drops.png
brynspikess supplied me with a wonderful and real ad from when marketing
was based on looks and not on the well being of the individual.
cough *Note the sarcasm* cough
Hey, I guess my cough isn't the only thing that is never ending, haha!
The feels: exhaustedexhausted
Playing on Repeat: DJ Snake ft. Aluna George - You Know You Like It
22 August 2015 @ 04:22 am
Watching YouTube you think, oh this will be fun and something to kill time. But then you find some person that is crazy, entertaining and have the most awesome cats.

May I introduce you to Cory “Dudelikehella” Williams.
Formerly known as Mr. Safety, SMP films, and The Mean Kitty Guy, Cory has had a wide variety of videos under his belt. But the one thing that has remained the same is his love of being alive. I don’t think I would survive living with him but I love visiting him for eight to nine minutes every day.
Stepping out of Ohio and into the beautiful Alaska scenery is break taking and a wonderful change from the entire flat lands. But I haven’t always been drawn to Cory because of where he lived.

I was introduced to Cory through his music video, Mean Kitty. Once I caught sight of that precious fuzzy face, I was lost.
Soon after I found out about Cory and Sparta (Seen above); I found out about Loki or Poki because he pokes everything to get to know about said thing.

Now we have Kristen and Penny.

Cory’s video is a highlight in my day. Thank you Cory for being awesome and always following your heart!
Cory heartpng.png
The feels: tiredtired
Playing on Repeat: Paramore - Ain't it fun
21 August 2015 @ 04:36 am
Never would I have thought a single voice reading the announcements of a small desert community would bring me so much joy and dread. Who am I talking about you ask?

Cecil Gershwin Palmer!

His integrity, cadence and art for reporting the news has become part of my life. My ears will never be separated from his words. I was inducted to Night Vale’s ways while I was cleaning one day. Cecil warned me of the dangers of the dog park while he gushed over Carlos and his perfect hair. I was won over was if it was in my DNA.

Over the many months I have been part of a rebellion, I survived the librarians, I ate J.P. Oranges, and I enjoyed the weather every day. My spine collection has grown since I do not know if it will buy me a condo, but I equally do not know that it will not buy me a condo. The smiling god has been dethroned as we made Kevin and StrexCorp go back to where WE WISH STEVE CARLSBURG WOULD GO!!!


 Sorry what was I saying? Oh, yes! Now I remember. Cecil’s voice. That man or being or humanoid embodied voice could read a long string of random words (that your life depends on) all day and I would as happy as an intern with her first official task of checking on that weird sound down the hall.

My greatest adventure was going to Night Vale with my brynspikess. Cecil’s voice rolled through my chest at volumes that would make the headless monks vibrate with fury. I wish I could tell you about our adventures, but I swore to the Deb a sentient patch of haze that I wouldn’t. I would never double cross that crazy patch if I can help it!!!

Sleeping, adventuring, under a needle gun, during medical testing and traveling, Cecil keeps all my bits from turning inside out.

Thank you, Cecil Palmer, for being my Erika in the desert other world that my life can sometimes turn into.

Goodnight, Cecil, Goodnight.
The feels: nostalgicnostalgic
Playing on Repeat: Dessa - Into the Spin
20 August 2015 @ 04:28 am
All through history tattoos have been used as expression of religious power, social ranking, or remembrance of activities survived. I have always viewed tattoos as positive way to use art to enhance your life. Men with tattoos, yes please. Women with tattoos, dream worthy. But in regards to me, I never really found an image or idea that really stuck with me long enough to know that I would want to carry it with me.

 For years I have seen my best friends obtain/ collect amazing pieces that have been spurred from internal beliefs or from their own artwork. I have seen great pieces that cause tears to fall happily. I have seen pieces that ended up being covered by better art. But still I couldn't see me ever getting a tattoo.

Before a convention one year I accompanied a group of girls to a tattoo shop. For the next eight hours a parade of fangirls emerged with glorious art and I thought for the first time that maybe, just maybe I would get a tattoo. After a wonderful weekend of panels, ghost hunting, and sock puppets that fleeting thought was shoved to the back burner.

My friends continued to add to their collections while my interest grew, but I never found that one image. During this time I started exploring Norse mythology. There is a true connection between the trickster god Loki and me. I love reading of his adventures and the energy of him. Along with learning about the greatest pranks I began learning about Runes. Runes have multiple meanings. They stand for letters of the Norse alphabet and as a symbol of certain energies. With runes not only do you learn the language but you start to understand the way of thinking of the Norse people. I found a home on this hidden information. It is a truth that rings through me.

So it was only a matter of time before I found Rune tattoos during my research. But the only problem I had with Runes at tattoos is in Rune magic, you have to destroy the image of the rune to release it once the work is done. I couldn't see carrying an active Rune around with me. Letting that one energy rule my life is just asking for trouble. With that as a no go, I started looking at images from around that time period or current art of Loki but never found anything that clicked.

Never would I have expected that when a friend showed me a cute picture of stitch dressed up for Halloween as Loki from the Marvel Avengers, that I would instantly know in every part of my body that this would be an image was going to be with me forever. I have a soft spot for Stitch from Lilo & Stitch since he found his own family, it didn't matter that it was broken or that it was small. It didn't matter that everyone else thought he was evil and a menace, his family loved him and fought for him. It didn't hurt that he is fucking crazy and that was designed to pull pranks. Come on stealing everyone's left shoe that is an amazing prank. That's when I realized that Stitch is very much like Loki and imaging Stitch having all of Loki's power was to be inspiring. The world would explode; Ragnarok would increase a billion if that blue fuzzy ball ever got the helm and staff with Loki's high approval. It was the image I had been searching for all along.

After much intense scouting I found the perfect artist, met with her and had my heart crushed! It was going to take $400 dollars to immortalize him on my skin. Money is never an easy thing to come by in our house with serious medical issues and temporary jobs. But as luck would have it I have outstanding friends. When I asked for Yule that all I wanted was money for my tattoo. Everyone came through and I was able to get an appointment to start my tattoo.

I am a natural redhead with very sensitive and fair skin, I knew it was going to be an ordeal getting the tattoo, but I was ready! My first sitting was three and half hours with a little over sixty percent done. Following all the directions to the letter from my tattoo artist I found out, as the ink was leaking out of my skin, that I was allergic to the A&D ointment. Armed with vitamin E instead I finished healing and we assessed the damage. The main body of the tattoo was still there but a lot of the lines had become blown out. My artist knew she could fix it and so I sat with her for five hours in my next sitting while she filled in the other forty percent and went over all the damaged spots. I wanted to cry from the pain and the beauty of my newly completed tattoo.

Here was years of watching, waiting, and research brought to life. The healing was insane! I couldn't stand to have any weight put on it. Even a very thin t-shirt was a HUGE FUCKING NO-NO! I would get all these twitches and the nerve pain was out of this world. I decided I was perfectly happy with one tattoo, but that I never wanted another one.

I put Curel lotion on it and sunscreen lotion on it went ever I go out into the sun for long time. I take really great care of it, but I've started to notice the tattoo was fading which I know can happen, but this is a really fast fade. I told my friends and told me I could have it retouched but it would cost more money and there's no fucking way I am going back under the needle.

During this time of seeing my permanent tattoo slowly start to disappear, I heard the funniest line to come out of Cecil's mouth, "All tattoos are temporary tattoos." I cracked up laughing in all the wrong ways to that line. Cecil, the voice of Night Vale, meant that your body is slowly wasting away every time you take a breath, but I couldn't get over the hilariousness of my predicament. Then to seal the deal, the next time I saw my Bestie she remarked that I was taking the "all tattoos are temporary tattoos" a little too much to heart.

So am I a sad that Stitch is slowly fading into the void, yes. But in another way it’s like the greatest prank ever! Loki, Stitch and I are proving the world wrong in the fact that yes....
all tattoos.png
The feels: devious
Playing on Repeat: Cam - Burning House
10 August 2015 @ 03:11 am

How can one key chain bring back so many memories?

My friend, Winter, made me that key chain. Our thing was to hide in a locked classroom at lunch almost every day. In our tiny 5 room high school you were really packed in tight with everyone and their bullshit. We never liked to deal with other people’s drama, especially since it could deal with drugs, pregnancy, depression, law enforcement, a work schedule or learning disabilities. We went to an Alternative High school. It was pretty much a cozy island for misfit teenagers. But it was the best place in the world.

I would read at lunch in a classroom if a teacher would let me. It was my true break of the day so I could power down and regroup before the rest of the day tried to smother me. After awhile the teachers caught on that I was spending every day inside, they didn’t care. It was just I wasn’t the only one doing it. That’s when the teachers started shuffling me and this other girl another. One day we would be allowed to be in the English teacher’s room because she had papers to grade or the Math teacher's room because he always brought his lunch.

After about a week, I realized what was going on. This girl and I were very similar; we were out of place even in a land of misfits. Souls too old to give a shit about what fad was going on, but to young in body to say, “FUCK THIS SHIT. I AM OUT OF HERE!” Usually I would have my book and she would have hers. We would sit on opposite sides of the room, because to be honest I was still wary of her.

That is until I saw her making a dream catcher. It was for a small child in her family, if I remember correctly. It was so beautiful. Her face was so intense. You could see her pouring her energy into the dream catcher making it a breathing thing. I asked her if I could sit down and started asking about the materials she was using. We talked for a little while then I went back to reading my book while she crafted.

From that day on we would sit at the same table or at least on the same side of the room with each other. In that 30 minutes every day we could be silent and it was okay or talk about our families and finally be listened to.

We weren’t the kind of friends that did shit after school, but we always went against the grain of society together.
The feels: gratefulgrateful
Playing on Repeat: Sum 41 - Fatlip "I don't want to waste my time become another casualty of society"
Rewatches are an amazing thing. You get to experience the love and pain all over again. Oh sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it.
My rewatch highlight this week is Supernatural's Slumber Party (s9,e4) where Charlie helps the boys save the world and Oz. Charlie is amazing. The wicked witch is spot on creepy and evil.  Dorothy is just the right amount of bad ass and leather to make anyone smile. Crowley actually says the line "Write it down so daddy can help." The spank bank is filled to the brim at this point.
Then I get to have my cake and eat it too when the Wicked witch possesses Dean and Sam.

This takes me way back to when Tommy the Green Ranger from Mighty Morphing Power Rangers would go bad!

I would be scared enough of the Winchesters on a good night, but Winchesters that are full strength unhindered by compassion or guilt. That is hanging your feet over the edge of a skyscraper FUCKING scary. You would think if I was child I would admit to wanting to hide behind the couch right about now, but no.

This excites my black little heart until I can hear my blood rush in my ears. Seeing full predatory mode on the Winchesters at their home field advantage is the same feeling when I put on a shock collar and let someone I don't know hold the controller. I have a knack for wanting to run towards danger; not to save people or hunt the things, but because I shouldn't.

Every cell of your primal brain screams run when you look at this face, but my feet while always carry me to that look. This look can be found on a Top's face when the scene is going really well. This is the "You are so fucked/ going to pay for that comment" face.

In this situation, I understand everything about this scene is Non-con and "No, that's bad!" and I shouldn't want it.

But I would be a fucking lair if I didn't admit to really wanting to be Charlie right here.

This is the best scene

The feels: weirdweird
Playing on Repeat: Major Lazer & DJ Snake - Lean On
08 August 2015 @ 01:52 pm
I was introduced to Odd Thomas in the dead of the night about a month ago. He is daring, unyeilding, and heartbreakingly intriguing. I've seen Odd in helping souls and saving a town while he lost his world, but Odd continues on. Odd is a warrior that I would ever much love to know in more detail.

For $57 dollars offered up to the great god of Amazon, I will do just that.  I was able to get all Odd's tale from the beginning to Saint Odd.

I've never been brave enough to purchase a whole series at once, but I am super excited about and I can't wait until it all gets here.

The feels: bouncybouncy
Playing on Repeat: Cam - Burning house
06 August 2015 @ 06:06 am
For many years I saw my mother give to everyone around her. When I was young I thought it was her superpower. The Giver. She gave to her mother, sister, friends, co-workers and she gave the most to me. She would run and run for days, never stopping. By the time I was in the third grade I was convinced. She was a superheroine! She would never stumble, but she would fall asleep anywhere she stopped for just a second.

Working all night would lead into making sure I got to school safely. Going home to take care of her ill sister then on to cleaning the house, do the laundry, make dinner then pick me up from school. Once I was home making sure I was doing my homework and making sure her sister had everything she needed. My mom would always take big bags of candy into the girls at work so they would be happy to do all the things my mom needed them to do. My mom was a nurse and her co-workers were STNAs or State Trained Nursing Assistants. They were young, playful adults with the attention span of nats sometimes but they were taking care of fragile (mind and body) elderly individuals that needed around the clock care. Seeing that much death and illness can really get to you as I would find out later.

As the years went on my mom added her best friend in the world into the giving mix when we found out her friend was going into kidney failure but every slowly. At first mom was giving simple things trying to fit them into her very tight schedule like watching her friend's baby for a few hours, bring dinner by before work or having family hangout days were mom and I would go over to their house cook, clean and watch movies. She was trying to give the place some hope. I would become so tired of trying to entertain a child that was ten years younger than me that I would fall asleep on the couch. Mom would gently wake me when everyone was in bed so we could head home. Her eyes would droop and start to close with she was driving home on those nights. She came up with this whole system to keep herself wake. Always drive with the window open (cold air keeps you awake), play the radio loudly (the upbeat music keeps you awake) and never drive with the heat on (the warmth makes you comfortable). She also enacted this system after work or after an event I would have.

By the time we moved out West, away from the crime so I could get a better education, she had survived seven car crashes. Falling asleep was the cause of them all. I could see the fatigue carving this way into her face with every passing year.

She started including me when she would figure out the finances that way I would be a pro at balancing a budget later in life. Every bill would be marked when it was paid, receipt taped to the bill and a little handwritten note about when it was paid. Another one of her superpowers I thought. There were so many bills, but she always kept them straight. Then what ever was left over when into Barbies, Barbie clothes and trips out everywhere. Yeah my mom had this adult thing in the bag, I thought it was weird that she fell asleep at the movies and she would just sit at the food court when my friends and I would go walk around the mall. I just thought hey she's old, it's what old people do. I was every naive as a tweenie bopper.

Then her friend got sicker and her sister got into trouble. Money started going out of the house in the hundreds. Mom started including me in the decisions she had been making for years. What could we do without so we could give to those in need? I was okay with eating hotdogs most of the time so her friend could go to the doctor and her sister could have the heat for that month. For a couple of months we had to pay half of our bills so mom, sorry we could send out boxes to her friend's family filled with toys and candy for the kids and bill money for the adults. Mom would always convince me that they needed it so much more than us. Things would get better for the friend and her sister. That would happen at about the same time they would stop calling to chat and it made my mom sad. But she would forget about it when all our bills were caught up and she didn't have to work overtime.

My mom lost her job
for awhile, we skated by on cutting the bills in half again or borrowing money from quick loan payday places. She only turned to her friend, her sister and some of the other people she had been giving to for years for help in this dire situation. Everyone tried but they were only able to give us a small amount. We thought it was because they were down and out just like we were. But no it was because her friend was leasing new cars, moving into a house and paying for the new boyfriend to go to truck driving school. The sister was buying new things for their apartment and new game consoles. The fatigue turned to anger while the anger turned into sickness. At that moment I knew every superpower had a downside.

She had every few people in her life so if you were in my mom's life you stayed there until you were poison and she would take that poison on to save the world from your terror. So when my cousin came, money started going back out of the house because he was sick too. Born to early, we all thought he was going to die. My mom became really focused on saving him. Providing anything her sister requested at the drop of a hat. Like I mentioned earlier being around death all the time you become custom to accepting the end, but it completely freaked her out to see someone so young be near the end. I should state now that my cousin's fine and healthy teenager causing strife and laughter everywhere he goes. Because they needed so much, we gladly went with less. and less and less. I really started to hate doing the bills with my mom. The monthly list would read rent, electric, water, car, gas, sister, friend, food, doctor, etc. There was so much money going out to them that mom just started listing them as monthly bills. I couldn’t understand at that time that my mom valued her worth by giving to others. She viewed it as the only way at being effective.

Sleeping so little, quickly turning to passive aggressive anger and working so much; mom had break downs. She would write post-it notes all over the kitchen at night that everything was going to be fine, she would check on me during the night making sure I wasn't hurt, writing all the time. At the time I didn't know all this but I found out more as the years went on. I knew then that the giving wasn't a superpower but more like a curse. Slowly my mom started to realize that we were suffering under the surface all the time.

I had been introduced to Wicca and goddess worship by some of my friends. I introduced my mom to it. At first she wasn't sure because it sounded bad, but after many hours of discussions. She realized it was about female power and strengthening yourself. After latching onto Wicca and Paganism she adventured out to Buddhism.

My mom learned that every living being experiences suffering and to end the cycle of suffering is to obtain enlightenment. But that you can't live your life always the with your head in the sand or giving away all of your resources that you have to find the middle way in balancing what you can afford to give and how much you want to help. This was and still is a very hard concept for my mother to successes at, but she strives everyday for a better understanding of being helpful to those around her while not depriving herself.

While my mom was growing and becoming an awesome person; I started to notice I had a hard time balancing out how to interact with my friends when they would mention needing something. I would either help to much and make the situation awkward or not enough and come off looking like a jack ass. There is a rule in magick, "What you give out, comes back to you times three." I latched onto that saying like a lifeboat during a good part of my life, kind of still do. It helped me release the anger I was building up when having to give to others. If I had a friend ask for something, I would try to think of if it was me in that situation how I would like them to help me and used that as my guide. For the overall it worked pretty well.

But action without the correct intention always comes back to bite you in the ass. For the last year I have noticed I would see someone broken down on the side of the road. I would go buy them a water and when I came back they would be gone. I would see a homeless person with a sign and I would go buy them food and when I came back they would be gone. I was acting like my mom in the begining judging that my worth to that person was how grand my gesture was. The universe was trying to show me that if I don't act with true intent that I am helping no one.

Sunday I was at the gas station when this guy came pushing his bike with a flaten tire into the gas station parking lot. Like lightning I thought, wow he really looks like he needs some help. He came up to me and told me he was homeless, at his tire went flat up the road did I have any change for the air pump and maybe some food. I give him all the change I had. He introduced himself and I told him my name and we shook hands, he thanked me for the help and went over to the air pump. Finished filling up my gas tank, I realized it was only going to cost me $20 dollars in gas this week when I had budget for $30. I effectively had $10 dollars to spare. I looked around for him but couldn't see him. Great just like every time I try to really help, they leave. I started to drive off when I spotted him around the building. He waved at me, I waved at him and parked. I told him about my surplus $10 dollars and did he want a sandwich? He told me he would rather have a loaf of bread and a bag of sandwich meat. All I could think was, wow he's been homeless for a really long time to prioritize he needs so well. But then he shocked me by saying that he would really like the money to get a new tire since he had figured out the flat tire was being it had a hole in it. I told him I could work something out of him and went into the gas station. I found a loaf of bread but couldn't find any lunch meat. I picked up a sandwich and took out ten dollars in change at checkout. I was hoping that he would still be out there when I got back. Sure enough he was still there. I give him the ten dollars for his tire, the loaf of bread, explained that they didn't have any lunch meat but that I got him a sandwich so he could at least eat that now. He looked shocked and shook my hand again. Then proceeded to sit down on the sidewalk and eat his sandwich. He was happy he had the necessities for a solution to his problem and I was happy that I could be effective at helping without feeling distressed that I gave too much.

I finally realized it is okay to give to others when they need help. But it is my responsibility to ask them what tools they need to make a solution and not to go over that. It is also my responsibility to figure out how much I can offer without it having a negative impact on me. Only when I give with an open heart and focus on helping that person so they can find their own solution do I truly help.
The feels: pensivepensive
Playing on Repeat: Where are you now - Skrillex & Diplo