Baby Momma!!!!

Yo Questers! It's been a while.

Far too long since I last regaled you with the fascinating tales of my life. Far too long since I've made you swoon. Far too long since I've been crude to you.

Alas, times goes by much too quickly. And since I have the memory of a rock, I forget the Bucket Sphere even exists.

For shame!

Fuck you Rachel!

And so I bring you the joyous news of my pregnancy. Yes I, Rachel, am going to be a first time mother. What?????!!!!

Holy shit! Something like this is growing in me!

I am in absolute shock over this. I wasn't trying for a child, but succeeded anyway. Seriously, it's not a competition body!

I'm a ball of nerves and I keep thinking ridiculous things like: what if it dies? how will I afford this? what if my man and I fuck up? what if? what if? what if?

My OBGYN has given me a list of a fucking thousand do's and don'ts, and how do I follow? So many vitamins. So many appointments. So many people to tell.

My father? Took it well. Friends? Also well. Boss? As well as can be. Coworkers? Excited. Mother? Doesn't know yet (since I just found out this morning). Grandmother? Never knowing ever if I can help it. She is a grade-A Bible thumper. 

6-weeks. 6-fucking-weeks. A month and a half of baby growing. I'm going to be a mother. I'm going to be a fucking mother. I'm going to pop a child out of my hoo-ha. Noooooo.....!!!

Questers, please make this baby awesome. I couldn't stand an un-awesome baby. 

And thus, this is where I leave you. Maybe more posts later!!! And not about babies!!!...(necessarily). 

College Adventures and That Feel, Bro, Thursday

Howdy, Questers! Its Kelsey, your friendly neighborhood kidnapper and child eater!

Like this, but with children.

Currently I am so stressed out I'm ready to have a melt down.

Tomorrow I am leaving for a Forensic's tournament. No, not the science Forensics. The speaking forensics.

Anyways, tomorrow I leave for the tourney and I am flipping out. I am doing informative speech, which I havent memorized...Poetry, which Im not good at....and Declamation which is just for fun so whatever.

So, I took time outta my busy schedule to post a That Feel, Bro Thursday

That feel when you have important things to do so you ignore them to do something completely unnecessary...otherwise known as procrastination.

Perfect

 

The Cast - In Rachel's Mind

Another post? What? Unheard of!

I know, it's un-fucking-believable.

If there is one thing I do, it is include others in my posts (without their consent). And you hardly know them. Sure, you might know Kelsey is my friend, but what makes her my friend? You may know I have a boyfriend, but I don't know if I told you his name or even who he is. Thus, comes this post.

#1) Me

My name is Rachel. My initials are RAM. I will be turning 22 years old next month. I have black hair (dyed). I have blue eyes. I wear glasses (sometimes contacts). I am loud. I am obnoxious. I am opinionated, even when I shouldn't be. I am atheist. I am pro-choice. I hate presidential candidate Romney. I hate pointless violence. I hate the show Spartacus. I love all things medical (excluding psychiatry). I love trying new things. I love tattoos. I want to move to a big city. I want a Tibetan Mastiff. I wish I could speak different languages. And even with all this I have a boyfriend.

Nicknames culminated throughout the years: Raquel (Spanish class. Variations include Raquel en Fuego and Raquel Forelli), Rachel #2 (Spanish V class. There were 5 students. There were 2 Rachel's. I was the least favorite), Aladdin (A crazy goth girl with the legitimate name Metallica gave me this moniker because Aladdin was my favorite Disney movie at the time), Cleopatra (A friend Christen nicknamed me this, I do not know why), Posh Spice (Self-explanatory in a way. My friends and I were obsessed with the Spice Girls in elementary school), Ray Ray (Mr. Hamrock, my third grade teacher called me this), God of Gods ('nuff said),  and Sprinkles (Obviously because I'm gay).

#2) Kelsey

Her name is Kelley. She hates the name Kelsey. Her initials are KAO. She will be 21 next year. She has blondish-hair (dyed), bluish-gray eyes, and wears glasses. She is loud, although not as loud as me, and not nearly as obnoxious. She too is opinionated, but smart enough to know when to keep it to herself. She is atheist. I think she is pro-choice, but I don't want to peg her as such if she has varying opinion. She hates Romney, but then again everyone does. She loves killing children. She hate gnomes. She loves psychiatry and stuff like that. Kelsey's opinion on trying new things is probably a bit like mine. Kelsey has a tattoo of my naked body on her boobs. Kelsey wants to move to China. She loves China. Kelsey likes corgi dogs. Kelsey is fluent in pig Latin. Kelsey does not currently have a boyfriend, just me. *Some of the things listed above may not be true.*

Kelsey is my best friend. We get along pretty fabulously. She knows most things about me, including my secrets. I know most things about her as well. I have fun when I'm with her and I trust her completely. We may argue about stupid things (mainly because I'm stupid), but we always forge on. I want her to be my Maid of Honor (if I ever get married), and an unofficial aunt to my future children. I want to keep in contact for as long as I can (hopefully until I die).

The one bad thing about Kelsey is that she isn't on the cool side and cut over. This seriously puts a dent in my street credibility.

Nicknames: Rainbow (because she is gay).

#3) Tyler

Tyler is my boyfriend (dating 1 year, 3 months as of yesterday). His initials are TCS. He will be turning 22 a month after me. He has black hair. It used to be long before work made him cut it off (extreme pout!). He has brown eyes that turn gold in the light (he must be a vampire). He is a red man (I must steal his land). He is like over half a foot taller than me. He has a new car and it's awesome. He is my polar opposite in a lot of things including loudness, obnoxiousness, and opinions. He is pro-choice. He believes in God, but not organized religion. He likes Romney and not Obama (how do we date?!). He likes to shoot guns, and is a pro at archery (because he is a red man). He loves several shows and movies I hate: Spartacus, The Walking Dead, and Star Wars. Tyler loves computers and knows his stuff. He finished Calculus in like 7th grade or something ridiculous like that. He is 1 billion times smarter than me. He is manly and isn't afraid to try new things (like taking down an elk with a spear). He has a tattoo on his back that is awesome. Tyler actually doesn't care about moving away from gay Virginia. He wants a wolf/wolf-hybrid. He can speak lots of German.

Tyler is the love of my life. The man I want to marry (even though I don't get the point of marriage). The man I want to father my children. The man I miss everyday at work. The man I worry about. The man I care about. The person who means everything to me.

Nicknames: Ty Ty (his adorable sister Jenna calls him that, and I do too), Pip (before me), Chives (also before me).

#4) Wahya

Wahya is Tyler's 2 year old dog. I unwillingly (at first) became Wahya's new mommy when I laid claim to Tyler (and he is mine!!!). Wahya is a husky-lab mix. He is completely white (he was the dog in the last post). He has one eye where the top half is blue and the bottom half is brown, and another eye that is reversed (top brown, bottom blue). His mother was a purebred black lab. His father was a purebred black husky. Why is Wahya white? I don't know! Wahya knocked up Tyler's mother's German Shepherd, Dakota, and she had like 10 puppies. Wahya got snipped as a measure to calm him down (cruel? Maybe). He did not calm down. Wahya can sit, lay down, wait/stay, give high fives, and bunny hop. However, he has selective hearing. He has to walk on a leash because he likes to chase things like cars, animals, leaves, and the wind. He likes to sleep on the bed. He likes to bark at noise. He growls a lot. He is very vocal, but isn't mean and would never bite (*note* Huskies like to talk). If you make noises at him, he will make noises back. If you howl at him, he will throw his head back and howl to copy you. He likes to jump on people. He always jumps on daddy's (note: Tyler's) balls. Not funny Wahya, I do want children some day. He eats bugs. He drinks out of the toilet. He sheds...a lot. He eats a lot of food. He attacks the vacuum. He is dumb, but also incredibly smart.

I love my puppy so very much! He is mine, and not Tyler's (despite what Tyler will say).

Nicknames: No don't do that, Stop chewing that, Quit sticking your nose in the garbage, Bad dog, Bad boy, Don't eat the horse poop, etc. (you can imagine the rest).

#5) Michael

Michael is my older brother. He is a serial killer in the making.

Nicknames: Fuck you, Shut up, Dumb fuck, Asshole, Anal Pagan, Eternal virgin.

#6) Cody

Cody is my younger brother. He is just a brother.

Nicknames: CJ, You, Hey you, Build me this.

I know there are way more people to mention, but I grow weary and forgetful. So....

Until next time my questadors!

My Soul is Dead (Courtesy of Fucking Spiders)

You lovely readers probably do not know that I, Rachel, live in an apartment above a barn.

You may be thinking, 'well, that's disgusting', and you'd be absolutely wrong. It's actually awesome...save for one minor (*cough* major) thing: WILDLIFE.

I live way back in bum-fuck nowhere, surrounded by woods, woods, and more woods. The only break are the horse pastures which are also enclosed in ridiculous amounts of forest.

This is my life.

And here's another funny tidbit about me. I hate the woods, I hate the dark, and I hate being in a place where no one can hear me scream when I get slaughtered by Slenderman or some shit.

This is an example of what I don't want to see in the woods at night.

So of course signing a lease for just that is the smart move, right?

...Right?

You should see me walk the dog at night.

I wrap up tight, turn on my flashlight Droid app, and creep outside. I always inspect the front porch first before descending the 20+ fucking stairs with extra caution. Who knows? A fucking clown with a knife could be standing behind the second flight.

Little boy or not, no thank you!

I hit the concrete pavement leading into the dark barn and check twice up the hallway in said barn.

Ha! You won't fool me serial killers! I know you are hiding everywhere.

These are pretty much my *Racrazy thoughts at this point: Holy shit! What's that light? Oh, my flashlight reflecting off of the metal stall doors. Is that the face of Satan!? No, just the second trashcan at the end of the barn. OMG! What is that noise?!!!! Oh, just the horses eating their timothy. Jesus, what is that noise now?!!!!!! Whew! Just the automatic fly misters doing their job.

*Racrazy - copyrighted, all rights reserved by Rachel.

Once past the heavy wood of the barn doors I take flight onto the gravel and the motion-detecting floodlight powers on*.

*Note: motion-detecting floodlight also likes to come on when an animal walks by, a leaf blows by, an ant crawls by a little too quickly, a moth gets a little too close, or when it's raining. It is not comforting to be chilling on the couch, watching a movie, and seeing the floodlight light up. That could be a murderous escaped convict, but it is probably a strong wind instead.

The dog absolutely has to pee out of the comfort range of the light. He also has to poop in the woods, and only in the woods. Thus, he forces me to combine things I hate. The dark and the woods...and homicidal maniacs (like my brother, Michael).

The Boyfriend does not care and probably laughs at my terrified form when I sprint back inside.

Ha! You were only seconds from catching me Boogeyman. Only. Seconds.

No. Just. Fucking. No.

So to come back from my ridiculous tangent. WILDLIFE! 

Yes, living in the woods is a surprisingly great way to experience wildlife. For starters, the other day I found a dead squirrel (with no apparent injuries) floating in the horses water trough. 

What the fuck squirrel? Seriously, ruined my day.

I had to dump the water and proceed to chuck the squirrel in the woods. It was water-logged and disgusting. Dog wanted to eat it. Dog only understands the word 'no' when he wants to.

I love you dog. I do. But you don't ever listen!

Or, how about when I get home from work and am mucking the stalls. There is complete silence save for the occasional stall door kick from The Diva (*note* DeeDee the horse who thinks she is entitled to everything), maybe a few crickets, the occasional fly-mister episode, the thunk of wet shavings in the wheelbarrow, a whippoorwill or two, and then...a piercing howl? What the fuck is that?

The single howl elicits a collection of following howls, thousands of them it seems, coming from every direction. Oh God! I'm not safe.

Yes, folks. Coyotes. Everywhere. Every afternoon. They wait. They seethe. They hope to catch Dog. They hope to catch me.

So cute. So deadly. So fucking annoyingly loud.

The apartment was brand new when Boyfriend and I moved in. We were the only two to sign the lease. Just us. Only us. Not a million other creatures. I see you ant. I do.

What is your purpose here? Jack Sparrow sent me to settle his debt. (Fuck you Johnny Deppantman)

When I get a drink, an ant is chilling on the counter. When I wash the dishes, 10 ants are clambering in the sink. When I take a piss, an ant casually strolls by the toilet (perv). 

I also have a new best friend:

Ah, be my murdering partner always.

And the ants, to counter me, got a new best friend as well. I saw them in the feed room first. Slick bodies skittering away in the light. You will not infiltrate my brand new apartment! You hear me?

Fuck you. This isn't fair. Why torture me!!!???

My murdering pest-control friends are my salvation. And for all the money they are stealing, they are including spider-murder frenzy.

This makes me happy. So very happy.  Until this morning.

Dear Orkin,

Why? Why is it that while I was feeding the horses this morning I spied a spider chilling in the doorway of the feed room? Why?

Are you sure you are not using a steroid to pump spiders up? Because my soul is dead now. Do you know why, Orkin? Do you? 

DO YOU?

This spider was the biggest I have ever seen. EVER.

Bigger than a silver dollar.

This. No spider should be this.

Actually, scratch that. It was like two of those. And it was just fucking taking a break...in my way.

I could feel my soul shredding as it stared at me. It seemed to dare me to move past it. 

Actually, it was this:

God, it is foul. My soul!

That my dear Orkin, is a wolf spider. They have toxic bites (not deadly, just extremely painful), and are soul murdering bastards. 

I've probably haven't told you I hate spiders. I never thought I needed to. Let me clarify Orkin, I. HATE. SPIDERS. I have chills just posting pictures. I hate them. They terrify me. They should all burn. Fuck insect population control. I don't care. 

So, big ass spider was in my way, and I had to get into the feed room. I plucked up my courage and forged past, not making eye contact. It didn't move. Maybe it is dying, Orkin? Maybe?

When I finished feeding the horses I traveled back, morbid curiosity getting the better of me. A closer look turned up this:

How fucked up is this spider? Right?

And that was when I realized. This huge ass spider was coated in baby spiders. COATED. So long soul! I'll miss you! Goodbye - courtesy of Orkin.

And that was also when I backed the fuck up, skin crawling in dread. Fuck no. This shit was evil. Pure fucking evil. What the fuck, Orkin? Why have you forsaken me?

Do you know what Dog did Orkin? Do you? Dog sniffed Baby Coated Wolf Spider. Dog did that. Baby Coated Wolf Spider darted, and became Half Baby Coated Wolf Spider. Noooooooooo! Orkin!!!!

My skin. It squirms!

Orkin, this won't do. Orkin, I thought better of you. I felt we were friends and you used me! Please come back immediately and rectify the problem. Please. Mother Wolf Spider is dead in the trashcan. Babies are everywhere. Please Orkin. Mend our trust! Help me survive. This is your job!

Sincerely,

In a 'not cool bro mood' Rachel

P.S. I'll take back the ants if you will please just make it so I never see this again. Thank you.

On another note, a mama black bear has set up shop with her baby nearby. I'm going to die.

On another another note, a groundhog is tearing shit up.

On another another another note, I almost hit a deer in my driveway yesterday.

On another another another another note, why are chipmunks ninja fast?

On another another another another another note, why do I keep hearing a cow? I have no cows?

Maybe I should have rented in the city.

My soul is not cut out for this.

Boyfriend just laughs at me. He laughs. The spider episode this morning? He actually guffawed at me. Um, what? No blow jobs ever again then, dick-hole. 

What. The. Actual. Fuck, Dreams??????

Howdy questers and questistas (Yep. Made up words because I can. Fuck you). *Note* Kelsey used questers first.

This is obviously Rachel, now bow.

I know I've blogged about dreams before (you know, with the motherfucking sheep?), and how ridiculous dreams can actually be. But this time, THIS TIME, you all need to know just how fucking crazy MY dreams are.

That's right. This is all about me. ME. ME. ME.

My complete genealogy.

Some say dreams are a view into the soul; if so, that means my soul is acid on crack.

My dreams have a habit of not making any sense. What? You say you have crazy dreams also? Well, that's okay; however, I'm assuming you mostly have normal ones? Thought so.

If I were to take 100 of my dreams, 10 out of that 100 would be normal.

This sign should be a preview to my dreams.

Now, I'm not complaining. My crazy dreams are certainly more fabulous than any nightmare.

Oh, did I mention nightmares? I don't get them. Ha!

Fuck this shit. I like my dreams with only a minimal touch of Satan.

So, I really have nothing to complain about, except for the fact that no one (besides Kelsey, and maybe Tyler) gets to hear about my dreams.

And now, without further ado, a preview into my dreams:

Italics represent my thoughts or words during the following dreams.

Dream Scenario #1 (from high school):

Background: In high school I had a teacher named Mr. Mace. He was my Honors Human Anatomy and Physiology teacher in 11th grade, as well as my Chemistry teacher in 12th. To be frank (because I'm a man), Mr. Mace was probably my favorite teacher...ever.

Thus, let's roll forward to a dream of mine. 

I'm decked out in a white gown? I'm being held bridal style? I'm getting married? Why wasn't I informed of the engagement? I am confused. Who is my husband-to-be? I look up into the smiling brown eyes of...Mr. Mace? What is going on here?

No, I'm not ready to kiss? What is going on? Since when were we dating? What? What!!!!

I'm not ready for this? What is that noise? Who is chanting 'domo'?

I'm surrounded by Domo's! Why are they chanting 'domo'. Why? I don't understand? You want me to kiss Mr. Mace? Will that shut you up? Okay. Okay. I give! *SMOOCH* Now shut up!

*END DREAM*

Yes, that was a real dream of mine. A dream where I was marrying Mr. Mace (without prior permission from myself), and a group of Domo's were surrounding us, chanting louder and louder until I sealed the marriage with a kiss.

By the way, this is a domo.

Fuck you dream world.

Dream Scenario #2:

Background: Who the fuck knows.

I'm having a sleep over? Fuck yes. I love sleep overs. Who is that lump over there?

Out pops a lanky body.

"Man, I'm starving!"

What the fuck is Shaggy doing at my sleep-over?!

On a side note: I detest the show Scooby Doo.

Why is he naked?! Why am I naked?! Why is he staring at me like that? Did...did he just lick his lips and wink?

"Oh yes, I'm starving all right..." Shaggy purrs as he slinks right up to me.

The only other lump in the room groans, causing Shaggy to tense.

I wonder who that is? Oh really? Seriously?! Come on!

"Back off Shaggy. Rachel is mine." Says the mysterious new-comer. 

"Nuh-uh. Like no way man!" Says the defensive Shaggy.

What is going on here? I don't get it. Brain, are you trying to tell me something? Why is Gideon here too?!

MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!

My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!

This doesn't make sense!!!! One of these people isn't even a real person!

Why are they arguing over me? Why are we all naked? How is this happening?

Now they are both cuddling me!!! I swear I didn't consent to this! Rape! Rape! RAPE!

Shaggy levels a final glare at Gideon, "Like man, you can't handle her Scooby Snacks!"

*END DREAM*

Yes, another real dream, and now the term 'Scooby Snacks' will never be wholesome again. 

What have I done? What have I done? Spoiled all!

Dream Scenario #3

Background: I watched Freddy vs. Jason.

What? I'm in my room, but my body is still asleep on the bed? How can that be? I've left my corporeal form? Am I magic?

"No, little girl." A nasty voice states.

Cue dramatic music and high pitched squeal of metal claws on my mirror.

Man, your face is all jacked up.

Freddy Krueger! What the fuck? Get out! This is my dream!

"You think it's that simple, girl?" Freddy sneers as he drags his hand lightly across my face, scrapping the skin, yet not drawing blood.

My dream! My guest list! Get out!

"You're going to die here, where no one but I can hear you scream." 

A clawed hand grasps my throat gently, though promising torture.

I'm serious Freddy! You weren't invited. I'll kill you if you don't leave!

Freddy growls, "You dare to threaten me?"

I'll kill you, for real. Don't try me! Better leave while you still can! Fucker!

Freddy doesn't leave. Freddy dies.

*END DREAM*

Seriously brain? Seriously?

Dream Scenario #4: Last Night's Big Mind Fuck

Woo! I'm at grandmother's house! Wait, why are there so many cars here? What? Why are these famous people here?

Suddenly a deep voice booms across the sky, "Welcome to the Rachel Rachel Hunger Games!"

What? No one told me about this! Why didn't they inform me of this?!!!!

I'm handed a yellow bandanna, and I tie it on with vengeance, sneering at the referee. Why there are referees for the Rachel Rachel Hunger Games I don't know.

I take my place in the front porch bleachers next to Tyler. He's team yellow as well. The only other teams are blue and red. 

The voice booms again, "Ladies and Gentlemen, first event: darts!"

A yellow tailed dart flies my way and I catch it. 

The games have started? I don't know the rules!!! This isn't fair!

Tyler just smiles and wings the dart back at the person who threw it. 

You just threw it at another yellow player! Tyler!!!!

Tyler pats me on the head, "That's the rules, love."

The dart comes flying my way again, hitting the person on my other side. I yank it out of the bleeding body. 

Why are these real darts?! This is dangerous!

I throw it back, nailing the other yellow player in the arm!

Wait, this is fun! Wee!!!!!

-------------------

PAUSE SCENE

I'm not sure why my dream has led to this. Why are the games at my grandmother's? Why are there only 3 teams? Why do I chuck darts at same-colored team members instead of at the other teams? Why are the darts needle tipped, instead of suction cup? Why am I enjoying it? These are questions I may never have the answers to.

PLAY SCENE

-----------------

The dust has cleared and I have taken down many of my yellow comrades.

Booming voice: "Team Red wins!!!!"

I killed like 200 people!!!!!! Booming voice man!!! Hey!!!!!!!

But Booming Voice Man doesn't listen. I am disappointed.

"Next event: Rake race!"

Tyler stands up and grabs his rake. Its black with 'Cherokee Thunder' written proudly down the handle. I kiss it for good luck.

He descend the stands and mounts it. In fact, all male competitors are mounting their rakes.

I glance to Tyler's right. 

That man has a rake with spinners! No fair! My rake doesn't even get good gas mileage!

-------------------

PAUSE SCENE

First things first, I'm proud of killing 200 people! What is wrong with dream me?

Second, just lol. God damn, rake race. 

If you can't envision a rake race, that's okay. You're normal, unlike me apparently. Imagine a stick pony race.

This, but with rakes! Yee-haw! Ride em' cowboys!

I know the reasoning behind this part of the dream. Tyler and I spent Saturday at a charity horse race event (VIP status!!!) and they had a stick-pony race for the children. I just incorporated that with rakes (I was mucking stalls last night before bed). 

Anyway, did I mention some of the competitors of the stick pony race? No?

*Cato (from The Hunger Games - now staring in The Rachel Rachel Hunger Games):

 

*George Washington (this man can ride a rake)

*Abel Nightroad - Crusnik form (Tyler was watching this last night)

What tough competition, right?

PLAY SCENE

-----------------------

The rakes take off in a ruckus as the men dash around the house. I hop off the bleachers and cheer them on, all the while doing my own twirling, run-dance with an imaginary rake.

The best way to get to work and back!

I can't believe Kelsey, Brittney, Tanieka, and Trina are missing this! Where are they?

"In the house" The Booming Voice Man booms.

I shrug and round the corner of the house, getting passed by the flurry of rakes.

What is that? Why are Kelsey and the girls going into the woods? It's almost midnight!!!! They could get hurt! What...what are they wearing??? Is that a dog on Kelsey's head? What?! 

I hurry after them, ninja-ing through the woods to their left. I had grown up in these woods and was an expert. 

My forte.

As I slink, I see a glowing light. 

Shit! A bonfire! Shit! I'll be seen.

I dive into nearby foliage as a person comes tromping towards me.

"Hey, you!" The male voice hollers, "I know you're in there!"

I pout hard and come out of the mass of bushes. 

Oh no! Nega-Tyler!!!! I don't have time for this!"

---------------------

PAUSE SCENE

Okay, lot's of shit going down here. 

Why wasn't my posse of lovelies with me? Why were they inside? Why does Booming Voice Man have access to my thoughts? Why are these rake racers so fast? What the hell? They are running with a fucking rake between their legs! That should be difficult. Why are my lovelies going on a night stroll through the woods? Why are they dressed weird? Who is Nega-Tyler and how do I know him? 

This shit is getting confusing.

PLAY SCENE

------------------

Nega-Tyler grasps my hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. His blue eyes sparkle in the amber light cast from the fire; his blond hair glistens and blows in the night wind. 

I don't have time for you Nega-Tyler! I'm being a ninja today!

"Come celebrate Nega-Jenna's birthday with me! She hasn't seen you in so long!"

No, Nega-Rachel creeps me out! And why are you celebrating Nega-Jenna's birthday, at midnight, in my grandmother's woods?

Nega-Tyler becomes shifty-eyed and stalks off. The bonfire goes out and all is silent.

Shit! I lost my lovelies! I must find my lovelies. Oh, they are right in front of me! How silly. Kelsey! Tanieka, Brittney, Trina!

Kelsey turns slowly, decked in a full-fur costume. She smiles, extending her hand for mine.

"You know I love you, Coraline."

Ha ha! Not my name Kelley.

"Listen to your mother, Coraline." Pipes Brittney, as she turns, a solid smile on her face.

God dammit, Nega-Kelsey, Nega-Brittney. Where are my lovelies?

"Tick-tock." The group chants and then disappear in a flash as an alarm sounds.

*END DREAM*

You might think the dream was getting creepy towards the end. I do not. I was just seriously annoyed.

Those fucking Nega's. 

I was highly disappointed this morning when my alarm woke me up and destroyed my dream. Highly. Disappointed.

------------------

Well, my questers and questistas, I bid you farewell. 

Hope your dreams tonight are just as ridiculous as mine.

Really late Childhood Post

Hey, questers! Kelsey here. About...a month overdue or something ridiculous like that.

Childhood seems to be the topic of choice.

You know, off the top of my head, I can't really recall any intense childhood memories. I just remember feeling unequivocally happy every second of every day.

I grew up with a lot of guys. I'll describe the ones that stuck around for more than a few months and that actually meant something to me down below. I was pretty much raised a boy so, even now, at 20, I'm trying to figure out how to be girlier. Luckily, around the 7th grade I became friends with Rachel and shes been a bit of a guide. I've learned what not to do from her.

1. My brothers- Seth and Ian

 My brothers are amazing men, now. They are both such strong, smart, talented young men that will definitely find happiness in this life.

Our dynamic was interesting when we were younger, however. Seth was always mine and Ian's favorite, but we had our share of fights with him. Seth and Ian never fought, but, then again, why fight with another when you had a little sister?

I remember, one time, Seth got angry at me while he was doing laundry. This was a summer and I unfortunately inherited my dad's genes: that being, my nose bled at the drop of a hat. Anyways. Seth got angry at me and as is the family's way, lashed out. The only thing in his hand at the time however was a pair of clean underwear. He slapped me right across the face with it and my nose began to violently gush blood. We were a normal family with normal family events.

He still tells that story.

Ian was a violent little thing. Always jealous of other guys, always angry, a sore loser. Your everyday problem child. He had his sweet side, though. We used to have a bunch of these little pokemon figurines and he'd always make sure I was playing with the cutest ones. I guess he preferred that side. He doesn't get angry anymore and is always bringing home gifts for the family. Hes a good kid.

We spent most of our time in the pool. We used to have a bunch of fish stones, those shiny stones that go in the bottom of fish tanks? And we would spend hours dumping them in the pool and retrieving them. Why? Probably because we were retarded.

2. Buddy and Zach

Buddy and Zach live 7 houses down from us. Yes, even now. They are step-brothers and pretty great guys, now. At least, they would be, if they ever fucking visited.

Zach used to be the joker. Always kidding around, although he was cruel about it. Hes probably where I get my meaner humor nowadays. I remember one time he told me my dad didn't love me and started laughing maniacally. I don't remember why he did this. He found it hilarious, though.

Buddy was the little outdoorsman. Always crawling under the house to get snakes and shit. He charmed every animal that came by. We always had plenty of new animals to charm, too, because we were constantly taking in strays. He used to balance on the roof and drop straight into the pool because he was hardcore, yo. I think the memory that sticks out most about Buddy is based in the woods behind our house.

See, we used to have these woods behind our house. It had this huge circle where nothing grew (to which we found out years later was created by one of Seth's crazy ass girlfriends. Fun.) and we would ride our bikes around and around all day. They built houses back there (Rachels being one of them. Whore.) and we had to stop. But, I always wanted to ride bikes with the big boys. One day, I followed them beyond the trail. I was running to keep up and in the middle of the trail was this HUGE snake. I stopped dead and started screaming. All the guys were there, but only Buddy came around to "save" me. It was probably just a black snake, but I was terrified...and he killed it.

Zach never killed anything for me. Whatta jerk. But, as we grew older, for a couple of my edgy teenage years I spent a lot of time with Zach. Hes an okay guy.

3. Brandon

Brandon is the son of my old bus driver and my parent's best friends.

Brandon is a dumbass. Typical arrogant country boy, parents didn't hit him nearly enough. But, he'd do anything for family. And we are definitely family.

He used to run around at our house yelling at my mom to feed him. "I'm hungry, ms. jenny. Feed me!" over and over again. He would get into so much trouble when she was on the phone...which was always. Eventually, he just made a sign that said "FEED ME." on it in big letters and kept hiding it where she would see.

4. Travis

Travis was a pip.  He was definitely Seth's best friend. He was always so funny. He was actually the first one to point out that a lobster cake tin we had hanging up looked like a penis. And now we can't unsee it.

He lives only about 5 houses up. I don't see him anymore and when I do its always a treat. I always joke and tell him to go home and he just smiles and says "This is home." Gets me everytime.

He sounds exactly like Patrick from Spongebob Squarepants, though. You're welcome.

5. Nick and Josh

Frigging Nick and Josh. They were closer to the end of childhood and beginning of teenagerism, but they count.

Nick is...well, we call him the fuck-up. He messed up a lot in life and whined so much that eventually my brothers stopped being friends with him. I see him from time to time and like to catch up, though, because hes not a bad guy. Hes a total sweetheart sometimes, just a little screwed up. Hes also the first real boner and penis I've ever seen. Completely by accident.

Seriously. Frigging Nick. He was like...he was just Nick. My mom had to teach him to walk on the toes of his feet, not on the heels, because he stomped everywhere. He sat in my kitchen during our 4-days-snowed-in-to-our-house-with-no-running-water fiasco a few winters ago complaining to me about women while he melted snow to take a shit. One night, we sat on the backporch talking about music and I went to get a drink, so he followed me. He must have been REALLY into the conversation, because I happened to look down and his pants were trying to lift their head to say hello! Then the very. next. fucking. morning he left the door open while peeing and I looked over wondering why the light was open and there was his little friend. I was like, 14 or something.

Anyways. Josh was his brother. He used to have these great manboobs, earning him the nickname manboobs. He doesn't really stick out memory wise, but hes a total hottiepatottie now, so thats okay. Hes Ian's best friend still and hes got a nice girlfriend. I'm happy for him! First one not to screw up too badly!

6. Brett

I saved Brett for last. He was in the same grade as me, making him the only one my age, technically. He lived just down the streets. He is the only one that doesn't still live in the same house.

Brett was great. He was funny, unintentionally self-defacing, just an all around great guy. He would come over every morning before school to eat breakfast and watch Bayblades with me. Whenever there was a snowstorm that cancelled school, an early outting, what-have-you, he would be at my house. My brother, Ian, used to spend days making these huge snowforts with rooms, standing room, cubbyholes. Everything. And Brett probably helped the most. Brandon tried to help, but, like I said...a bit of a dumbass.

He taught me how to play YuGiOh and let me win. He was so chill, it was comforting against the anger/hyper/daring/mean backdrop that the other boys provided. I just remember, mostly, laughing with him at the back of the bus from elementary school all the way to high school.

I saved Brett for last, because as a child I was probably closest to him. But...he's also the only one I lost track of. He moved out and I never saw him again. No online presence, no rumors, no nothing. In fact, for a while, I thought he was dead. Its just so unusual in such a small community where coincidences are frequent and theres a 7-degrees-to-Kevin-Bacon kinda deal (only its more like 3 degrees to whomever you want) to lose track of someone.

Until, one day, I saw him. Mom was out in my car just chillin' like a villian and I was shopping in the general store down the street. I saw his hair first...it was always this wild brownish red poof. I thought "wow, brett hair!" right when he turned around. I knew his face anywhere. He had grown a beard, but I heard him talk and it was definitely him. He didn't say anything to me, just locked eyes. I could tell he recognized me, his eyes became really clear and then they just glazed over and he walked away.


I consider all these boys my brothers. They may break ties with each other or move away or get married, but I know they all consider me a sister, too. The fact that I learn about them from them before anyone else makes that clear. My mom babysat all of them and its because of her I got to experience such a large family. Around the age of 13, though, I began developing depression. Thats also when all of my brothers were growing up and leaving the house, entering high school, all that good stuff.

When I was an older teenager, about a senior in high school, the bottom of my basket fell out for a little while. I decided that everything wrong with me and in my life was because of my mother and I blamed her heavily for my depression. If she only hadn't, if she only didn't, if she would have done just this one thing, I'd be more normal. I wouldn't be depressed and hate everything in life. Now, only a few years older, I'm starting to realize that my mother gave me a good childhood. My problems were in my head. My mother wasn't perfect, but I understand she gave me the same childhood her mother had given her. One filled with strife, problems, anguish, sometimes hatred, but always with an underlying, albeit fragile, bridge of love to connect our hearts. Looking back on my childhood, I am filled with nothing but affection and sympathy for my mother. It couldn't have been easy raising a daughter going only on your own mother's mistakes for guidance. My mother and I are closer now and she leans on me for support. Support that I never got from her as a child but I am not resentful about anymore now, because I know she never got it from her mother. I give her the support like she is a child and only hope to God I do not do the same to my own daughter one day.

My childhood is a defining factor in my life. I am still close to many of those boys and I still love each and every one of them with my heart. But, my mother is the reason I was able to be surrounded by these wonderful souls. She babysat them and there were problems, yes, but everyday was blissful and happy. Even in between the batterings and the beatdowns. I wouldn't change a thing about my childhood. I just wish I could have extended it.

But, then again, thats probably why I keep Rachel. Shes like four or something. How old are you, sweetcheeks? MAYBE six now?


Also, theres your depressing post for the year. Thanks for reading.

Childhood Destruction

Yo! My avid readers (all of the readers actually).

This is Rachel, bringing you your reading pleasure.

Like this! Pleasure for your eyes!

I may not be a child anymore.

21 is so old!!!!!!

But I can still recall the days when I was young, and summer was free, and the wind was beckoning me to run.

Run, Pocahontas, run! This was me, only not. I wasn't running to save anyone but myself.

Speaking of saving myself, I am one in a trio of siblings. I am the middle child and the only girl. My older brother is two years above me, and my younger brother is a year and a half below me. I was not lucky, you only child motherfuckers who complain all the fucking time...fuck you...

On one hand, I can be thankful my brothers made me tough, on the other, well, getting shot hurts. I've been shot with a BB gun, an air-soft pistol, a CO2 air rifle, etc., and I'm fairly certain my brothers would have gladly shot me with a .22 or .300 if they could. 

The point is I had douche-canoe brothers, and if I cried I got the generic 'boys will be boys'. 

Note the misspelling of 'her' as 'here'. This is sadly due to a misapplied education regarding penis.

Most girls with brothers know what I'm talking about. The feeling of a rock hitting your shoulder, the pain of a stick-sword thwacking into your head, the bloodiness of a good makeshift BMX tournament. You know what I'm talking about. 

There is a 100% likelihood that the lump was me.

And did I mention there were only two girls out of our 8 person, first-cousin group.

Yep, us first-cousins bonded like straight up hydrogen (and other shit that bonds in chemistry).

The breakdown is the following (with initials, and maybe a picture, to make everyone feel better):

Older Brother, MTM (Michael) - the first-born of the grandchildren (gets everything he fucking wants...ever).

*Note* Tranny is not in the title of this book.

Me, RAM (Rachel) - the first-born granddaughter of the lot (never gets anything she wants, is always wrong).

Bam! Look at my paint skills!

Female First-Cousin (only other female), SMM (Samantha) - born in Hawaii (doesn't matter what she got, she turned into a fucking bombshell beauty).

Extra M with your S&M.

Younger Brother, CJM (Cody) - second-born male grandchild (got everything he wanted as well for being the baby of my parents).

Male First-Cousin #1, MSM (Matthew) - now a Marine (was probably also spoiled. I don't know. He wasn't me).

Male First-Cousin #2, D-A (Danny) (I don't remember his middle name, leave me be) - can build robots and shit.

Male First-Cousin #3, M-A (Matthew) (I also don't remember his middle name, also leave me be) - autistic and all that.

Male First-Cousin #4, MHM (Hunter) (he goes by his middle name) - a brat, pure and simple. Also, redneck.

So to put the ages into perspective:

If I was 6, Michael was 8, Cody was 4 or 5 depending on the day, Sam (being almost a year younger than me) was 5 or 6, Matt (being the same as Cody) was 4 or 5, Danny (also being the same as Cody) was 4 or 5, Matt (being 7 years younger) was -1, and Hunter (being 7 years younger) was -1.

This is important because it fucked Michael over (which is hilarious always). Samantha, Matt M., and Hunter are children on my dad's side of the family. Danny and Matt A. are children on my mom's side. We only hung out with children from one side at a time (we are family-racist like that).

I don't know about my baby, but certainly my family.

So a typical summer day would see Michael, Sam, Matt, Cody, and myself (and Hunter later on) playing together. Matt and Cody stuck together like glue, as did Sam and myself. Michael had no one! Ha ha ha!!!! Also, Hunter had no one (but that is okay because he is a dick)!

Another summer day would see Michael, Cody, Danny, and myself (and Matt later on) playing together. Cody and Danny stuck together like glue (and they included me!). Once again Michael was left to himself.

Ha ha! You old loser!

The moral of that story is: 'Always be born at the correct time!'

Okay, time for another!

As I stated previously, Sam and I were inseparable. We did everything together during those long summer months. We were boss. This is most likely because when summer ended we both went back to total destruction by our brother(s) and school.

Fuck this right in the fucking ass.

Getting together two young and extremely outgoing girls is always bound to cause problems, especially when said two young girls have the imagination of Spongebob, times infinity squared.

IMAGINATION OVERLOAD!

Here is an example:

Trees!

Trees supplied us with almost everything we didn't have.

Want to play a game of house but the parents/grandparents forced you outside? No worries! Put a rock in between four trees, place a piece of large bark/random wood across that rock, and you have a house with a table!

This, without any of this.

Playing a game of 'girl gets the boy' and you don't have a boy? No sweat! Smack some lipstick on your face and make out with that succulent splintered wood! Insta-boyfriend!

Oh my handsome prince! Your eyes are bright blue! Your hair long and dark! Your posture so regal!

Playing some vigilante game and need bad guys? No fretting! Put your ass against the tree and pretend you are being held hostage. Kick and scream until the other person saves you! This can be done by kicking the tree repeatedly.

Playing outside and have to pee? Don't want to walk your ass to the house? No crying! Yank those pants down and piss over that tree with the hole in it! Public toilet! (I never said we weren't gross children).

Who uses this? Disgusting!!!

Need a seat? No moaning! Push over that rotten tree and take a nice big sit!

Multi-talented mofos!

Trees could also be used for war! Bet you didn't know that!

My paternal grandmother's house is surrounded by woods (it's actually pretty creepy). The woods at the back of her house lead down a hill, across a stream, and to a barbwire fence (the distant neighbors' property). At the edge of this fence were two massive trees that had fallen over. The uprooted earth and tangle of dying roots easily cleared a height of 6 feet. The trees themselves had fallen and were resting precariously among a group of still upright trees (the only thing keeping them from toppling completely to the ground). So of course when we saw them, we avoided them. 

Not today death-trap! We know what you want!

Just fucking kidding. We girls claimed the smaller (yet prettier) tree and made it our castle. The boys took the larger one (they in no way forced us to give it to them), and made it their fortress. We climbed the shit out of those fuckers, not giving one fuck about their dangerous location.

And did I mention that these trees could be captured? No? Or that the main point was to declare war on one another? Also no? How about the fact that our mortars were pine cones and our guns were of the cap variety? Still no? How about the fact that we often came home muddy and scratched up? *Sigh* The life of a child.

A noble weapon of conquer.

*******

Sam and I could make a game out of anything really.

Want to play lawyers? Take a doll and ask a random person to show you where they were touched using said doll. (My grandfather really didn't watch child-appropriate shows. I saw a stripper before I knew what one was.)

Want to be a super genius? The front porch can be your lab! The windowsills your keyboard! The windows your super computer!

Want to be a superhero? Bust out the front door singing your made up theme song! Run down the concrete walkway! Super Emma (Sam) do a cartwheel! Super Tanya (Rachel) do a somersault! Run to the gravel pile! End theme song! Start mission! Use trees liberally!

The possibilities are endless!

I see a nice bed, a meal, and maybe a dog!

Did it snow last night? If so, load up your sled and play 'Wipe-out Olympics' where the objective is to purposely crash as many times as possible! Rachel, did you slice your hand open? No worries keep going, the blood is pretty in the snow!

*****

Oh childhood, you wondrous thing. Fucking with Michael and cementing relationships.

But now you're gone and Michael's a poker dealer, Cody's a carpenter, Samantha is in Hawaii for college, Matthew is a Marine, and I'm a lowly secretary trying to go back to college and failing.

Where have you gone childhood? Come back.

******

Kelsey, your turn because we aren't posting enough!

Deuces everyone else!