You Kill Me

I'm about to lose some friends, but that's okay. You don't have to like what I am about to say for it to be true.

Black culture is responsible for the murder of Christopher Lane. Had their mommas and daddies been present, they wouldn't be involved in trying to live a gang banger lifestyle. Had they not been trying to emulate the images they see from the black entertainment world, they wouldn't have thought killing someone would give them some street cred. Had they been involved in productive activities this summer, they wouldn't have been bored and killed a white man in cold blood.


Yes, those boys are responsible for their own actions. I say fry 'em. And while you do it, make sure their heroes, who I assume are raps elite, have to sit their and watch what they inspired. One of them calls himself "Baby Drake" on his FB page. And a "Black Power" pic on there. Who's to say it isn't racial now? If we can accuse Zimmerman with no evidence, we can nail this asshole with that pic, right?


It isn't a race issue you say? Maybe not, but if it was a black man shot by three white kids, y'all would be on the Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton race baiting train. Are you pissed? Good, because I sure as hell am. This is what a culture that promotes hatred, violence, crime, misogyny, etc. causes. This is what happens when you don't hold yourself to a higher standard. This is what you have allowed to happen after people fought so hard for your equality. Be fucking pissed and be very ashamed.

If you live under a rock and have not heard about how three black teenagers murdered a white, Australian baseball player in Oklahoma because they were bored, you can read about it here. Or here. Or here.

And if you aren't angry, if you aren't disgusted, if you can't feel the same sadness and rage you felt for Trayvon Martin, you can go fuck yourself you racist piece of shit. Yep, you are a racist. No apologies today or from here on out. Same standard for all.

It Won't Be Like This For Long

My dear, sweet, beautiful, smart and wonderful friend Shannon has blessed us all with a guest blog. I love her like a sister, probably more because my sisters and I fight like Palestinians and Jews. She is the bravest and strongest woman I know. There are not enough elegant words I could use to describe her, but take my word on it. She is amazing. 

So is her family. Her husband Rob is a fantastic example for what a husband and father should be, plus he's country and gets along grandly with Hubby. Her teenager C is the most kind, compassionate, respectful, and beautiful 15-year-old I have ever met. Little Bug is in love with her (we all are, she's amazing!).

And then there is my precious Ava. She loves me. I know it. I love her. Okay, she tolerates me, but I still love her. She is 3, but dwarfs Little Bug in height. The whole family dwarfs my family in height. Little Bug normally doesn't like younger kids but she thinks Ava is older than her (due to the height) and tells me all the time about the conversations she and Ava has when she calls her on the phone. It's a real phone, just a pretend conversation. 

Ava is just as much my friend as Shannon. She is a beautiful and wonderful child. Read on for my best friend to tell you why.

When I was asked to write this I was kind of anxious about it.

Not going to lie, this is pretty hard stuff and I get funky writing (talking) about it.

Here is our story. Our story about Autism.

Autism is a developmental disorder that appears in the first 3 years of life, and affects the brain's normal development of social and communication skills.

Autism is different for every single child. Some kids have no communication, like mine...some have sensory issues with taste, smell, touch, also like mine...and some have a hard time with emotion/social interaction. Some will sit in a corner and possibly just stare at a spot on the wall. Some may be completely "typical" and you may not notice. Every single child is different. 

Ava was 12 months old and had no verbal communication. I knew immediately that was wrong. She also loved to bang her head on the couch, by flinging herself back hard (enter Sensory seeking). She had a very hard time with strangers. Actually, anyone who wasn't me, my teenager, or her daddy. 

She was a happy girl, up until around 12 months...

 

Most people didn't know anything was different. I did. My closest friends did. A couple of strangers did. 

The scariest feeling in the world is when you know something is wrong...and you can't fix it. There is no pill, or cure...there is just wondering, and dread. My heart ached for her...not from embarrassment or shame, but from sadness that she was always going to have a little bit extra to do...a little more for her. Tasks that most parents take for granted...putting shapes in a sorter, chatting, learning quickly. 

The worst part for me was not hearing her say "Mama." Can you imagine? I mean just that little word, that sweet word...I didn't hear it until she was 3. [Of course it was amazing when I did, and she could sign "Mama" but it wasn't the same.]

We had her evaluated, then sent on to a Specialist. They said to wait and see. Maybe she was just delayed. I knew. I started sign language right then. If she couldn't talk, then by God, we would figure out how to sign. She caught right on. My heart did little flips when she started...we could chat. Well, we could learn to chat. 

She was anxious with new people...and transitions...but we could work on it. She didn't meet the classic signs, she had great eye contact and is so very affectionate. She has a great emotional response, so that is not a worry. 

Fast forward, we started therapies...Speech and Occupational. 

Moved cross country with the Army....and met the most wonderful Speech Language Pathologist in the world. She made me feel like we were doing the right stuff. We tried hard, we did so much for her...and someone recognized it. {insert tears} Her new Specialist gave us a diagnosis of Autism, mildly, but Autism. 

I struggled with hearing it. My heart broke. Not for me, just for her. It sucks ass some days. Some days are so hard. *SO* hard.

 

When you have a little one with Autism... *everything* is harder. You need diapers? Got to make a quick stop at the grocery store? Not with some kiddos. Luckily mine is pretty mild. She rolls with different. Some kids can't. Just a little wayside stop after school can make an autistic child lose their mind. I mean, really bother them. These kids don't understand when something is off routine. Going to see a show? Fireworks? Clapping? Headed to a Tupperware party? Nope, too many people, too much laughter, too much stress for both of us. 

 

My little Toe Walker. It is very common in Autism, speech delays, and sensory kids. She likes the pressure so it calms her. 

Part of the reason I struggled with this diagnosis...

My little one is fine with stops...she just has trouble with sensory issues. Touching stuff, licking stuff, working her hands...crying if it is too loud outside...all these little things add up to a big part of who she is. She may line up blocks, or cars...she may rock a bit from toe to toe...and she may be a toe walker (which people are fascinated with) but she is a beautiful, loving, caring girl. She is smart, she is learning every day.

My sweet girl. 3 now, and doing so well...with early intervention!!

You know those kids who are "acting a fool" in the store...or that just can't sit still? The next time you think (or say) that they are too big to be acting like that or that they need a spanking...please take a minute to think. That child may be Autistic. That child might have a special need that is keeping them from acting "typical". Don't judge. That makes people with kids that have differences even more anxious. You have no idea the struggles we face just to get to the damn store. Just to run in for milk. Please, don't judge. 

Just recently I got some great advice from a couple of friends. It was Ava's first day of special education preschool. {She goes for 3 hours a day, and has ST & OT plus regular school activities. There are 3 kids in there. The social aspect is amazing, and the things that she is doing now...I just can't tell you how much early intervention helps.} Anyway, back to my story. I knew she was going to have a hard first day. Having never been left anywhere...it was coming. I walked her in, left her, and heard her crying so hard. She cried and cried. She was devastated. That day was horrible. I got stuck in the PTA room, and had to hear her when she walked down with her teacher to breakfast. I had to *hear* my baby sobbing uncontrollably. 

I was a mess. I called my husband, my Mom, and a couple of friends. Tiffany, who is amazing....told me that it was okay to cry, really...and that I could be sad...but that this was a big deal and Ava needed this. It would get better every single day, and to step back and realize how much she would grow. {Ahh, insert more tears} I needed to hear that. I picked her up, crying...after school. I braced myself for this happening every day...and something amazing happened. 

The next day she didn't cry. She stomped in mad, and flung herself on the rug...but didn't cry. She was mad. Pissed...but no tears. Then I went to get her and I heard her laughter. She was HAPPY. Day 3 was even better, she went in willingly and met me at the door with smiles. She is okay. She is learning, and growing. She is painting, sounding out letters, doing more signs...she is okay. 

I could breathe again. My girl. My little baby girl was okay. She is excelling. 

{psst: little secret....on Friday she is getting the Student of the Month award for the first month of school} 

Autism is not a death sentence. It is hard, but not something you can't overcome. There are some days that I sob, I worry, I mope....thinking of how hard she will always have it...and how will she be an adult...with kids...or if that will even happen. Then I look at her...and see her sweet face, smiling and her little hands signing...and I don't care. I just know I am a better Mama for having this mountain to climb. She makes me better. I wouldn't change it for the world. ♥

I Got Stoned and I Missed It

I had so many things I could have blogged about today. For starters, all the hoochie mamas at Little Bug's school today for the volunteer meeting. If I ever get so desperate that I find myself wanting to fit in with these women, I now know I just need to hit up Forever 21 and buy a 2 sizes too small tube top. I also had some DNC related quips, some local politics commentary, even a lovely review of the Oogie Love movie (based on the previews). But I have something I think you'll find more interesting.

My new teammate. My online film class is entering it's 4th week and Team E was hit with a shocker. Someone was going to be added to our three-man/woman wrecking crew. Remember Patrick? Of course you do. No, he isn't my new team member. But his female equivalent is. Her name is...wait for it...Patricia and she is just as stupid and rude as him. Here's the breakdown of BEFORE she was in our group.

It started last week really. She commented on my post (the same one that Patrick had) and said she agreed with me and then posted again and said that the movies were awful and needed a better storyline. Then this:

Hello mr. Ryan and class. I watched both Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead and I feel like the both fall into one existing genre. My reason why is because the two seems to be low budget films just to make money. For example, Woody Harrelson when have he starred in any good movie lately? And his supporting cast are bunch of no names. Shaun of the Dead is casted in the same mold as zombieland, both are low budget films that find themselves in the comedy and horror area of filmmaking. I see the genre as the same movie with different plots.


So of course I replied: (my responses will be in purple for the rest of the post)

Emma Stone, Jesse Eisenberg, Bill Murray, and Abigail Breslin are hardly "no-names". Jesse Eisenberg was nominated for an Oscar for The Social Network, as was Abigail Breslin for Little Miss Sunshine. Emma Stone was in The Help which got a ton of buzz and Bill Murray...well, he's a legend. Woody Harrelson was just in The Hunger Games with Jennifer Lawrence (another Oscar nominee), Friends With Benefits with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis and The Messenger with Ben Foster (which I strongly recommend). 

That was followed with these three posts, back-to-back, as if she only meant to post one but couldn't decide which and posted all three. 


Hi Tiffany, I too find the Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead as horror and a comedy. I personally do not like neither of them because they are just dumb. But as the slogan goes "that's hollywood".

Didn't you just say they only fall into one genre?

Hi Tiffany I would equate a movie where the good guy son is held captive and the good guy only have until 12 noon to come up with the ransom money or his son will die. The clock is ticking and the good guy have to come up with the ransom money that he have in the bank. I would put this movie in the category of a horror movie. Would you? Remember the clock is ticking!!

But that typically isn't a horror movie. That would be suspense, action, thriller, even drama but not horror. Ransom with Mel Gibson is that premise and it isn't a horror movie. Look up the genre descriptions and I think you'll change your view on a whole lot of films. 

Hi Tiffany, the two films that you mentioned could use a better story line. These films too me are just simple surposed to be horror movies. To the producers to these two film, you could do better. Tiffany, next time discuss better movies.

I'm confused. The post before this one you said that the films are horror/comedy but now you're calling them just horror. I didn't mention the films, Mr. Ryan did and now we are all commenting on them. I respect your opinion on the films, but I'm just finding it hard to follow.

I think the movies are meant to be funny, like a parody of the genre. Much like the Scary Movie franchise. Maybe try watching them as a comedy. It might change your mind as to what they are supposed to be. Either way, I enjoyed them both and own them both. I'll be watching them again soon, as October is officially monster movie month...horror or comedy.

Keep in mind, my responses came much later and long after hers were posted rapid fire like. This wasn't a back and forth conversation by any means. She never replied to me. But she did comment on one of my teammate Mike's post about the movie It. She said she saw it in the theaters when she was a very young girl and it scared her so bad. Keep in mind, she is in her 40's. It came out in 1990 and was a TV mini-series originally shown on ABC. She says she is 42 right now, that means she was 20 when it came out. Not a "very young girl." I replied that I was not aware that It was ever in movie theaters. I also said that I was 6 when it came out and watched it on ABC before my parents caught me and turned it off. I then added that the version I had seen with Tim Curry must be a remake of whatever one she had seen in theaters, though there was no listing on IMDB.com for it, because the only version I know of came out when she was 20. No reply from her, but my Mike posted this photo as his reply:

He was asked to take it down by Steve, but the 3-5 minutes it was up made me giggle.

So then on Monday, Steve adds her to our team. He said he was aware this was unusual but if we could make her feel welcome, he would appreciate it. This was Mike's welcome to her:

Sorry about the pwn-age. You did get pwned though. Welcome to our group. Just do your part and spell things correctly and we will all get along.

Classy guy, that Mike. I think if we had a real life class, I would recruit him to my team. Anyway, I posted the three movies we would be using for our presentation. Mike chose last week and Gerald (the other guy) told me to choose because any movie he would pick "will probably suck." I picked Young Guns, Sixteen Candles, and Super-size Me from the list. A Western, a romance, and a documentary because, well, the assignment calls for a Western, a romance, and a documentary. Each member fills out a matrix that asks about each genre, turns them into me by Saturday morning, and then I turn in the presentation by Monday night. THIS WAS ALL EXPLAINED. Besides, she had been in another group and they had to do the same thing last week for a horror movie and a comedy...she would get it.

Nope. Didn't get it.

Hello, my name is Patricia Wilson I have been added to this team, I like the suggestion  I like the  selected choices please tell what you want me to do.

I just did. But I exercised patience and said:

Complete the matrix for each movie and submit it to the team forum by Saturday.

Still didn't take:

Hello, Ok I am not understunding clearly are these the movies that are selected and I need to locate the matrix for each movie can you explain what you are suggesting so I can complete it please.

Followed immediately with my response:

These are the movies: Young Guns, Sixteen Candles, and Super-size Me.

The matrix for each are located under the "Week 4 Materials" tab. Fill out the Western matrix for the Western, the romance matrix for the romance, and the documentary matrix for the documentary. Just like you should have done last week for the comedy and horror movies your last team picked.

Have them completed and turned in by Saturday (morning preferred) and I will compile the answers for the team power point.

We all understand the assignment by now right? Not Patricia!

Hello, I found the matrix now are these the movies that are selected if so I can fill that out for three movie am I correct?

I had to stop replying. I still don't actually know if she understands. But I did realize I can look in the Team C forum (her old group) and I checked out the communication between her and her old team. She appointed herself team leader, wrote a charter without asking for anyone's schedule, insisted all work be turned in no later than when she leaves work on Thursday, and then when the other's said that they would turn it in on Sunday (it's due Monday 11:59 pm), she submitted an assignment on Friday without anyone elses name on it and told Mr. Ryan they all refused to help. Then, when the other's called her ass out (it was hilarious) she called them all "slackers and low-lifes." 

Hopefully Patrick Patricia turns her shit in on time. I would hate to omit her from the assignment...though, if I do, you can bet I am going to let her old team know!

Class tonight and it's the final one with Baloo! YAY!

My Best Days Are Ahead Of Me

Anyone watching the RNC? Fat Bottom Girl sure has. About every other speaker has brought tears to my eyes as they recount their stories of hard work and struggle, how they or there parents built there businesses from the ground up (They DID build that!), and how Romney and Ryan are the two men who can and will lead this country back to greatness.

After the recent attacks on me and my blog by PolitiJim, the uninformed jackass wannabe pundent, I was determined to make it very clear what my political beliefs for. You know, so he couldn't confuse me with a Tea Party infiltrating Occupy Wall Streeter or a Catholic Santorum supporter. I know you can't change right-wing nut jobs and liberal psychopaths, but you can reach those in the center, which is close to where I stand.

I don't go to church on Sunday and I didn't bow my head or say Amen when the closing prayer was said. I know the GOP is often referred to as the party of God and guns, and I do subscribe to the gun side, but you don't have to love Jesus to be a Republican.

I believe that gay people should have the same rights as every other American. You probably won't hear that at the convention. You will hear a lot about how GOPers value traditional marriage. What's wrong with that? Aren't they entitled to their beliefs? Disagreement doesn't mean hate. In fact, those same bible toting elephants are taught to love everyone. Yes, bigots and hateful people claim to be members of the party, but they exist in the liberal world as well and they make up a very small percentage. I look forward to the day that the religious right and the moral majority's grip is loosened on the party. Have you ever heard of the Log Cabin Republicans?

Oh, we're racist too, right? That's what I've heard. We don't like minorities and want to keep them in the gutter where they belong. Yeah right. Tell that to Gov. Susanna Martinez of New Mexico, Gov. Bobby Jindal of Louisiana, Gov. Nikki Haley of North Carolina, Congressional candidate Barbara Carrasco, Rep. Allen West of Florida, Fmr. Sec. of State Condolezza Rice, Gov. Luis Fortuna of Puerto Rico...need I go on? Minorities are Republicans too. Stop believing the Liberal propaganda that we're all racist rednecks.

I think I've strayed from my point. In the past three days, I have seen post after post about how evil and hypocritical we Republicans are. How our women are all sluts. How the hair and makeup touch-up booth for the ladies of the GOP sets the women's lib movement back. And how they wish Hurricane Isaac would have destroyed every last one of them. Does this sound like the tolerant Left? Are these same people who are accusing the Right of waging a war against women calling GOP women sluts? No, that would be as hypocritical as all these religious nut jobs, right?

I have watched speaker after speaker highlight the things that make America great, and all of these things, Obama is against. Try and deny it. I'll go talking point for talking point with you, except mine aren't going to be filled with campaign rhetoric, they'll be filled with fact.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Fat Bottomed Girl reading nation (too lame? I'll work on it), I endorse Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan (who is kinda hot, no?) for the offices of President and Vice President of the United States of America. WE built this country and they know that and have the ability and determination to turn this country around. I'll go back to my regular not-charming and witty self tomorrow.

Ain't She Sweet

For those of you who don't know, I set up a GMail address specifically for my blog (fatbgirl@gmail.com) and linked it to the mail icon over there --------------------------->.

Feel free to email me any bitches, gripes, complaints, or suggestions you may have. It's easier than leaving a comment as you do not need a blogger account. I've been compiling some reader feedback for a Fan Mail blog. Most are from people telling me they were searching for porn and came across my blog and that they think I'm funny, even without the ass photos. A few were from hardcore Bangs fans. Some even tell me how much I suck through bad spelling and grammar. Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts about anything you want to share with me.

Moving on.

I would like to have a contest. But not just any contest. I want to host a photo scavenger hunt. I've seen some super cute ones on other blogs, but this one will be Fat Bottomed Girl approved.

A girlfriend of mine and I used to do something similar. We had a list of things that you had to see in real life, take a photo of, and send it to the other. The other night at a friend's birthday dinner, I was reminded of this list when I spotted the one thing I was never able to find. Sitting a few tables away from us was a woman with a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. The front of her shoulder. I won't go into detail about her weight or that the clothing she was wearing was for a younger person. You see, one of our list items was a butterfly tattoo that was NOT on the lower back or ankle.

I didn't zoom in, but it's definitely there.

The same (unnamed for dignity purposes) girlfriend informed me this photo also counts for the Hungry Hungry Hippos spot on the list. Yes, we are going to hell, but it's entertaining.

So here's the thing, I am compiling a list of things you must photograph. I think 5 things a week for 5 weeks. I'll post the list on Monday and you'll have until Friday to post them all on my Facebook page. The first to get all five things, wins for the week. At the end of the five weeks, the person who won the most weeks will win a fabulous prize.

Here's the kicker, I'm going to need proof that you saw this in real life and didn't just google a picture. So, you must post the pictures to Fat Bottomed Girl's FB page with a link to your Instragram account where the photos were originally posted. Instagram has a cool new map feature so I'll know where it was taken at. Plus, Instagram classes it up a bit, don't you think?

I'm taking suggestions for list items, should any of you have any crazy ideas. Also, the best photos will be featured each Friday. You can even create you're own caption.

What do all of you think? Fun idea? Any one have anything they'd like to see as a prize? I can tell you that what I have in mind will blow you're mind.

Follow that arrow up there ^ to email me or comment down below.

Online

What in the World?! Wednesday is henceforth dedicated to my new online class through University of Fictitious Bird, at least for the next five weeks. I mean, if I provide you with an in-depth look at my Thursday night escapades, why not do the same with my online classmates? Surely, they can't possibly be as bad as those in Sun City, right? I mean, these are people from all over the country, there is no way they could be as ignorant and incompetent as my ground campus colleagues. Wrong. So wrong.

Let me preface this by explaining the course. I apparently need a humanities credit and my advisor eagerly suggested Intro to Film. She said it was super fun and easy and I would just love all the interesting people I would meet online. All I think was, "Yay, more blog material!" Remind me to send her a fruit basket as a thank you.

It started with Steve, my instructor. He posted a detailed vitae about his work in the "lucrative baseball card industry" where he worked as a head of something or other for a "big name card manufacturer. The one that just popped into your head, yeah, that's the one." Nothing popped into my head so apparently he was unemployed. He lives in or near Berkley and from his use of Comic Sans for EVERYTHING, I am fairly sure he has a graying ponytail and wears a Fanny Pack. He was very proud that he teaches an extensive California Notary class and according to him he is "basically responsible for every document that is notarized in the state of California." Go him? He was a writer for the New York Post before all of this and conducted "numerous lucrative interviews with sports greats like Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams and Mickey Mantle." However, when one of my classmates asked him a question about Joe, he said he didn't know that much about his stats. What? They weren't printed on the back of those lucrative baseball cards? As much as the man throws around the word lucrative, you'd think he was a Jew, but no. Just a guy who has taught at University of Fictitious Bird since I graduated high school. Oh, and for a man with is BA in English and his Masters in English Literature, he has terrible spelling and grammar.

As soon as the intros by each class member started to roll-in, I realized that they were no better than my bunch of genius' on ground. From the retired military guys who cannot spell military to the housewives who wrote paragraph upon paragraph about their latest recipes and knitting projects, I decided to keep mine short and sweet. I said "My name is Tiffany. I am a USAF veteran. I am a wife and mother to a 4-year-old. I am majoring in Criminal Justice and hope to work in federal law enforcement upon graduation." Bam. Easy peasy. But something about my lack of detail prompted another USAF fellow to reply.

Patrick, a former BMT instructor currently stationed in South Dakota, felt the need to grill me about what I did in the AF. I replied that I was 3P0X1 just to annoy him and he replied, "I don't know what that is." I wasn't sure why I had to explain what my AFSC (MOS for Army...basically job) was to a man who wrote in detail about how he shaped the future of the Air Force and we should all be grateful that he kept the bad ones out. I didn't reply and went about searching for other posts to respond to (because it's required...lame).

Later, I answered one of the instructor's discussion questions and Patrick responded with, "So you were a cop? You could have just said cop." People should really learn to respond to the appropriate thread. I sweetly replied that I wasn't sure what that had to do with my choice of Crash as one of my favorite movies and that any questions he had about my military experience could be posted in the Chat Forum and not in the one we were in. Steve replied that I was very diplomatic along with having excellent taste in films. Patrick must have become enraged because he proceeded to pick a fight with me on every post I commented on.

When I commented on another student's post about the movie Training Day and how I thought it was an excellent example of how easy it is to become corrupt when you are surrounded by the dredges of society, he replied, "And you know this because you were an AF cop?" Maybe I arrested this guy. Maybe I gave him a ticket. Maybe he's just pissed that he isn't the lone AF vet and I'm already the teacher's pet. Whatever it is, this shit needed to stop. Before I could reply, Steve asked us if we thought movies could teach a lesson. Realizing that this was my opportunity to meet my required daily instructor responses, I ignored Patrick and answered the question.

Me: I think most movies can teach a lesson, but all too often the viewer misses it because they're caught up in what they saw and heard and not what was implied. Unless the lesson is layed out in a Morgan Freeman voice over, people skip right over it. (Funny right? I know)

Patrick: Sure, movies can teach lesson. I have two children and the majority of the movies they watch contain some type of morall or lesson. The film Shrek comes to mind. It contained lesson (to me anyway) teaching to look past what you see on the sirface, that it is what is inside someone that counts. ("Ogers are like onions, they have layers") I think in most flims, you can pick out lessons of integrity, and self sacifice, especially flims aimed toward children. (This is a direct copy and paste)

Me: Okay, not counting children/family movies, do you think movies made for adults have as clear of a message?

Patrick: I think we can both agree that, yes, even flims geared toward adults contain a clear life lesson or massage. Forest Gump was full of them ("Life is like a box of chocolates"). I used children's flims as an example because their message is usually very prominent. (Direct copy and paste)

Me: Sure, Forrest Gump offered it up easily. But films don't just have one message and if they do, I find them to be a bit one dimensional. I prefer to look for the hidden meaning/lesson that lies underneath the movie poster tagline. Forrest Gump was about so much more than expecting the unexpected a la "Life is like a box of chocolates..." and I personally didn't feel like that was the message Winston Groom (the writer of the novel which is fantastic) was trying to portray. At least not primarily and I don't think that director Robert Zemeckis wanted to portray that either.

Patrick: John Travolta played a man that was simpel and slow but had a open heart. He went on wild adventures and changed peoples lives. (Direct copy and paste)

Me: What movie are we talking about? Because John Travolta wasn't in Forrest Gump, Tom Hanks was in it as the title character.

Patrick: No, it was John Travolta. And it was directed by Steven Speilberg. (Direct copy and paste)

Me: There's a website called IMDB and they have all the information about films. Maybe you should go on there. I can assure you, Tom Hanks played Forrest and Robert Zemeckis directed it. 

Patrick: I don't need to look it up or google it. I know I am riht. (Direct copy and paste)

Everything I wrote is what I said as well and is a direct copy and paste, I just felt the need to let you know, that IS his spelling and grammar. Drill Sgt just couldn't stand being wrong. Steve and the original poster both commented and said he was incorrect but he posted "I don't have time to argue, I'm at work" and we haven't heard from him since. I wish I had a job in the AF where I could do my schoolwork. I know cops that got LOR's for having that shit on post. I think this guy is going to have a full meltdown by the time this class is done. I should ask him to be in my learning team, he'd probably throw his computer against a wall.

There are some other gems in the class, but I have a paper to write for my other one, so you'll get more next Wednesday. Or Wensday as Steve posted in the title for today's discussion question.

It Takes Two

What in the world happened today? I'll tell you what happened today!

Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings won their third-straight Olympic Gold Medal in women's beach volleyball! It was beyond amazing.

I'm not sure what was better, that USA took Gold AND Silver (Jen Kessy and April Ross), or that it sounded like the whole stadium was singing The Star-Spangled Banner during the medal ceremony. Kerri was almost bawlin', which caused me to tear up. Gotta cry when you see another patriotic sap. 

I can confidently say that these two winning will be my favorite moment of the London 2012 Summer Olympics. Gabby and the Fab Five were amazing. Shayna Richards-Ross and the rest of the Longhorns in London made my heart swell. Kellie Wells getting Bronze in the 100m hurdles made me sob like a baby (with happiness). Phelps being Phelps and being the winningest Olympian of all time was historical. But Misty and Kerri are by far the baddest chicks and have stolen the Olympics.

I have been scouring the web trying to find the video from the medal ceremony. I tell ya, to hear everyone singing our national anthem was amazing. You'll get chills. Hopefully, NBC will stop being so Jewish with the footage and put it online at some point and then you can get chills as well. Yes, I said Jewish. You don't get to be offended.

BTW, Go On came on after Bob Costas' interview with Misty and Kerri (which was tres hilarious). It's that new show with Matthew Perry about a guy in group therapy after his wife dies. I had said that despite all the previews that featured Olympics tie-ins (a la Shawn Johnson) that I wasn't going to watch it. How many shows was this man going to do post-Friends that bombed? Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip was quite dry and brilliant but it tanked. Mr. Sunshine...well, I now it tanked but I have no idea what it was about. This was just starting to get sad. 

But alas, Hubby and I laughed. A. Lot. The characters are just the right amount of bizarre and pitiful and leave you laughing at them while feeling sympathetic to their loss (one lady is there because her cat died...thought of you Baby Sis). In his first session, Ryan (Perry's character) turns the meeting into "March Sadness," a bracketology of sorts to see who's experience is worse. One man pleads his case by saying "I returned from deployment and my wife had a baby." Ryan says "So you missed the birth?" and the man replies "And the conception." I chocked on my drink I laughed so hard. 

I really hope it does well. I feel like my fall TV lineup is missing comedy. It officially premiers Tuesday, September 11 on NBC. And yes, it weirded me out about the date as well. Check out the commercial and trailer below. If you didn't watch the episode tonight, the trailer pretty much sums up the first episode so you won't have missed anything really.

Tomorrow, I start a new class. I already know that I will detest the instructor without a shadow of a doubt. I'll explain tomorrow. 

Funky Chicken

I tend to refer to my dear friend Nic when it comes to all things gay. I've known him since middle school and we've had some grand adventures. We would ride around for hours in his Jeep Cherokee and do all sorts of silliness. We even protested the choosing of hot pink as our junior class color by forming Junior's Against Hot Pink (JAHP). It was just us two, but we made the yearbook bitches. I always knew he was gay (though he didn't tell me until later) and it never bothered me. Even being a regular (forced) church-goer, it just didn't seem wrong to me. He is who he is and he can love who he loves and that's all that matters.

Nic also served in the Air Force (before I did) and while I was in basic, he sent me the funniest letters telling me to keep my head up and where to sneak candy from. He sent me pics of him acting a fool at his job (photography) and told me he was proud of me. I once asked him how he felt about "don't ask, don't tell" and he replied with something along the lines of "If the Air Force can't tell I'm gay then that's their problem!" He served his country honorably, probably more than a whole lotta straight folks.

So it should come as no surprise that in the midst of all these people condemning Chick-Fil-A for their CEO's personal beliefs, I would defer to Nic. I have my own opinion on it, of course.

I think a man who runs a privately owned company can donate to whomever he pleases and praise whatever god he chooses and think marriage is between a man and a woman all he wants. That's what the 1st Amendment is for. It doesn't only apply to liberals. I don't have to agree with him (and I don't), but I don't think mayors of any city have the right to say that a business that will employ it's residents can't operate there. In this economy, you take jobs where you can get 'em. Chick-Fil-A employs gay people, they serve them food, and they have NEVER been accused of discriminating against them as a company. You don't want to eat there? Fine. But by threatening to pull your business until they change their beliefs is...what did the ACLU call it? Oh yeah. Viewpoint discrimination.

But I digress. I asked Nic to write a guest blog about where he stands on this issue. He was more than happy to oblige:

You know that old saying “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” This phrase is, without a doubt, completely and utterly true for me. A tasty and delicious meal can put me in the happiest of moods, and a crappy or bland meal can leave me winning the day’s official Sour Puss award. People could tell me the worst things about certain types of food, but I would still eat it. I would just laugh in their face while I stuffed my mouth with a KFC Double Down chicken “sandwich”. If it’s good, it’s good.

Why do I open with this pearl of wisdom about my love of food? Because as a gay man, I am supposed to hate Chik-Fil-A. With every glitter-covered fiber of my being, I am supposed to think that this is the restaurant that the devil frequents when he needs a quick bite, or when it’s 3AM and he is jonesing for something tasty to soak up all that evil alcohol he’s been consuming. But what I’ve been told, really, is that I am supposed to completely forget every time I’ve licked the inside of a French fry container because the lingering taste from the consumed fries taunts me from the inside of the package. I am supposed to forget every time I’ve stuffed my face with more than enough food, stopping to think “If I have another bite, I could explode” but then realize that it’s worth it and finish the rest of the sandwich. More so, I am supposed to forget the wonderfully cheerful people that have always helped me, and while they are paid to smile and be friendly and not look like they’re judging me for my large order, I know that a small part of them is really nice and friendly and not judging. Yes, I am supposed to forget all of this because the man that signs his name to all the Chik-Fil-A checks decided that it would be a good idea to give money to the Anti-Gay Campaigns.

To begin with, I would just like to state that this man is an idiot. I mean, why did he think it would be a good idea to make these contributions from the corporate account? He could have easily made them from his own account. While it would still be partially associated with him, as he is the President of the company, it wouldn’t have been as big of a deal (like it is now). This route would have saved the company a whole lot of bad press, and all of the anger would have been pushed directly to him. I mean, he seemed to be very pleased with the outcome of everything, since he was happy to accept the blame of the situation (made apparent by his “guilty as charged” remark). Though, I must say...way to be so proud of yourself while still being a complete douche. Kudos to you Mr. Cathy.

I haven’t been to a Chik-Fil-A in years. I think the last time was when I was in Ohio, and I think I went there to console myself and make me feel good about being in Ohio. Lord knows I needed something. I remember it being so tasty and good and a mini-escape for me. But that was forever ago. The closest location to where I am is 48 miles away in Fairfield, which is worse than Ohio (and yes, that is possible!) So, that’s the reason that I haven’t been in a long time. But if there was one closer, I would probably go there. And I know that I would have a shit-load of people screaming at me, “What are you doing? They don’t support gay marriage!” I understand that there needs to be solidarity in boycotting things, and that the power of the customer’s dollar is incredibly important. I understand this, and I know that my eating there would be horrible. But I sincerely and honestly believe that my stomach is more powerful than anything. I don’t really get into politics, but I do get into food. So now you know.

Now, aside from this company having some yummy food and completely hating gays, what else do you know about them? Probably nothing, because what’s the point of knowing anything else besides what is in the media and what is important? Do you know what the WinShape Foundation is? It’s the foundation that was created over 20 years ago by the original owners of Chik-Fil-A, Truett and Jeannette Cathy. The WinShape Foundation does a lot of stuff:

·       WinShape Homes - currently operates 11 foster care homes in Georgia, Tennessee and Alabama.

·       WinShape College Program - at Berry College in Rome, Georgia, this is a co-op program offering joint four-year scholarship funding to incoming freshmen of up to $32,000.

·       WinShape Camps - offers boys and girls summer programs at the college, which will be attended by more than 15,000 campers in 2012.

·       WinShape Retreat - offers a sequestered setting for marriage support and counseling and other gatherings on the Mountain Campus of Berry College.

·       WinShape Wilderness - an outdoor adventure program that facilitates experiential learning for all audiences in ropes course settings as well as canoeing, rock climbing and backpacking venues. Helps people use adventure to equip people to experience real change, not just in a team setting, but also through personal transformation.

·       WinShape International - mobilize leaders to transform young people and communities around the world.

Aside from all of this, they also provide $1,000 college scholarships to restaurant employees, with over $30 million dollars in total. But, aside from all of this, I’m guessing you still think that they’re completely horrible no matter what, right? Just because someone doesn’t agree with you about something, doesn’t mean that they’re completely wrong or evil or bad. It just means that you don’t agree.

Do you know how people are “fighting back” against this gay-hating corporation? They’re not going to allow them to build new locations. Seriously, the mayors of several towns throughout the US have decided that since they don’t love their gays, then they don’t want them around. Uhm...am I the only one to think this is a bit crazy? I mean, sure...it’s pretty bad-ass that some mayor is like, “Hey...gays are awesome. You don’t like them, then you can just get the hell out of here!” I think that’s pretty neat, but I also know that it’s pretty illegal. Or at the very least, it should be. Here’s why. Do you know of the Catholic church or the Mormon church or pretty much several other churches who happen to think that being gay is an abomination and that they are going to hell. What happens when one of these churches decides to build a new location, or a community center, or anything else that is church related? Nothing happens except that they get to build it. But why is that? I mean, they too hate the gays, don’t they? So why aren’t they being bullied as well? 

Perhaps the mayors of these towns should institute a new department of City Hall, called the Business Owners for Gay Love (or BAGL). Every time an individual was interested in opening a new business, they would have to come before BAGL employees and provide several references to their connection with the gay community and how much they love them. Photographs, letters of recommendations, and any other items are accepted. Yes, I’m being a complete smart ass about that, though if it gets created I am totally going to shit myself. Cause that would be so ridiculously awesome.

I think this entire thing has gotten out of hand, and continues to overwhelm the news every day. Many important stories are being overshadowed or pushed to page two because Chik-Fil-A is such a big thing right now. How about you report the story, as was done forever ago, and then let that be it. Having articles that state “Chik-Fil-A Still Hates Gays” does nothing. If, by the miracle of whatever entity you believe in, they perhaps change their mind, then you should report that. Otherwise, let the news be filled with things that are new, and not just a recap of what’s been happening and reported on for 6 months.

Here are my final remarks on this: (1) Chik-Fil-A is a restaurant that makes delicious food, and as such, should be judged on their food and nothing more; (2) the President of Chik-Fil-A is a douche, though with a name like Mr. Cathy, I would probably be as well; (3) while Chik-Fil-A has made a contribution to an anti-gay campaign (which is oh-so-wrong in the current times) they’ve also made some considerable achievements in other areas of philanthropy; (4) the news needs to stop reporting on this, as the story is completely old and over with, and we’ve already decided which side of the fence we stand on with this; (5) if I could, I would be eating a gallon of Chik-Fil-A fries right now, because I’m a Fat Bottomed Boy and my stomach is more important than politics. 


Nic (who is awesome) currently resides in the City by the Bay and will remain my go-to-gay for as long as I live. One day he will take my daughter out and tell her all the awful things her mommy did when she was younger, but she'll be better and wiser (hopefully kinder) for it. 

Waiting on the World to Change

While I prefer the more grandiose titles of "Stay at Home Mother" and "Full-Time Student", the reality is this: I am unemployed. Isn't that the title placed on those who have sought out employment and have still cannot find any? Yes, I think it is. I am either not fluent enough in the Spanish language to get a job in the Sun City, or grossly over-qualified for the positions I am applying for. Needless to say, this leaves me plenty of time to keep up with world events and politics.

I am a registered republican, though towing the party line is not a strong suit of mine. I consider myself fiscally conservative and socially moderate to liberal. I don't care who you screw, God is whomever you want it to be, don't tell me what to do with my body. etc. Not the usual GOP stand point but I am not the religious right, nor do I appreciate their hijacking of the Republican party. I strive to be a Barry Goldwater Republican, a man who famously said "I think every good Christian ought to kick (Jerry) Falwell in the ass." Senator Goldwater had the good sense to know that the religious right had no place dictating to the rest of our country how we should live. If only our current party leaders thought the same.

If you're a Christian, good on ya. I do not believe in attacking you the way the far left has done. You have the right to believe gay is not the way, abortion should be illegal, and that prayer should be allowed in school. But I challenge you to examine the life you are living and decide if that life is what a Christian should be living? Are you a witness to your faith? Would someone look at you and see love and tolerance? Or would they see hypocritical behavior and condemnation? Until you're living your life to the perfection that's laid out in the Good Book, who are you to judge others?

The same tolerance Christians want others to show them, is not shown by most Christians. Jesus said love others as I have loved you. He didn't say don't love the gays, whores, junkies, and lefties because they don't think the same as you. What's the adage? Don't judge me because I sin differently than you. And riddle me this, how is gay marriage more damaging to the family unit than a 51% divorce rate amongst straight marriage? Hmmm.

Don't get me wrong, the far left is as bad as the religious right. The attacks on the morality of others are intense and extreme. Just go on Huffington Post sometime and look at the comments. Anyone who does not tow the liberal line is all but crucified. I personally have been called a whore, cunt, slut, tramp, racist, bigot, cum dumpster, baby killer all in one post because I had the nerve to say that I thought President Obama needed to take a tougher stance on immigration. My exact words were "As a citizen living in a border town, I would like to see President Obama take a tougher stance on immigration" in answer to a post about what people really want from our president. Clearly from my post I must be a "racist slut bag who sucks Bush's cock" and I need to get my "fat fucking kyke nose out of Obama's business, bitch." One man, who's profile listed him as a Democratic Strategist (in his mom's basement) said I better shut the fuck up before I get my throat slit. Classy, right?

What if these remarks were made by the far right toward a liberal woman? Outrage would flow from the keyboards of liberal blogger and pour into the mainstream media with a quickness. I reported the comments to FB and Huffington Post and nothing was done. The posts were not removed and I never got a response. I don't want to assume that it's because I disagree with the President, but one has to wonder. Liberal women are praised when they speak their mind, while conservative women are called names by the likes of Bill Maher and Keith Olbermann. President Obama called Sandra Fluke to apologize for Rush Limbaugh calling her a slut, but no call was made to Sarah Palin when Maher called her a cunt. I'm not defending what Limbaugh did, he's a pompous slob that doesn't speak for me, but how is what he did different from Maher?

President Obama said he apologized to show his daughters and all women that they should not be attacked or called names because they are being good citizens (presumably testifying before congress means being a good citizen). Does that mean Sarah Palin is not a good citizen and deserves to be called a cunt? I am not pro-Palin by any means, but because she is a conservative female who had the ass-galling nerve to have an opinion that doesn't lie up with the liberal left, she's been vilified and attacked over and over again.

Let's talk about attacks some more. If a person has the audacity to disagree with President Obama, that person is immediately labeled a racist. Don't like Obamacare? You might as well have called the man a n***** while wearing a Klan robe. Instead of accepting that people on both sides of the isle have a difference of opinion and fundamental beliefs, the left has vilified any person who disagrees with President Obama to the point that Republicans can't say anything without the racist label being attached. And Republicans have allowed their White Guilt to kick in and control the way they present themselves and express their opinions. I am not apologetic for being a Republican, nor will I be apologetic for being white. I don't have White Guilt, I didn't enslave or persecute or deny anyone's rights. Am I sorry that happened? Absolutely. But will I forever hang my head in shame for the sins of others? Nope. I'm not going to jump on the Obama bandwagon to avoid a label.

Why does it have to be so nasty? I know that that question seems ridiculous coming form me (shit, fuck, cunt, bitch, etc.), but really, isn't it that simple? If I don't agree with you about politics, do you really think I should die because of it? Am I a whore because I think birth control is a-OK? Should I get back in the kitchen instead of speaking my mind because I don't think Jesus is the only way? Do I really suck Bush's cock because I'm some brainwashed GOP cunt?

Think about it. Would you want some grown man talking to your daughter that way? Your mother? Your sister? Your wife? Be you left or right, can't you express your opinion without resorting to threats and vile names? Don't get me wrong, I love a good comeback, a witty retort. But "shut the fuck up before some one goes reverse Zimmerman on you" isn't witty. It's a death threat. Americans are up in arms about the bullying situation in our children's schools but we ignore the bullying that goes on between the adults. Where do you think they learn it from?

I realize that there may never be civility in politics. I realize both sides have the crazies. I know that Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck don't speak for me, just like I know Al Sharpton and Bill Maher don't speak for every liberal. But why don't other people seem to get that? Stop letting others speak for you and start speaking for your damn self. If more people would, there would be more civility in politics.

Just my two cents, take it or leave it, but I firmly believe everyone could use a little change.

I Won't See You Tonight

Holy hell do I have a blog for you! I was working on my homework for the most of the day and was pretty sure I wouldn't have time for a blog. I even got kind of sad about it. I mean, I barely popped one out yesterday and now I wasn't going to have time or material for today. But low and behold, the powers that be wouldn't stand for that and gave me some great shit. Well, great is relative. I'll understand if you all think I'm a cruel bitch after this one.

It has been one of those days. Every time I sat down to write my research paper (that's due tomorrow and I started today) I have been dragged away by Little Bug. Her Poppa and Grandma took her for a bit and even that wasn't enough of a break with all the household stuff that needed doing. By the time Hubby got home, I was ready to plop down and get to writing. That didn't happen as Hubby and I were discussing what to do about Little Bug's rejection of a scheduled life and all things meal time.

My mother was downstairs with her convincing her to eat (it helps that she made her chicken nuggets) when we heard her start yelling. She sounded frantic as she yelled for us to come grab Little Bug and to hurry. We rushed down the stairs, Hubby practically leaping down them. He scooped her up and Mom explained to me that the cops were outside. Oh, the Douchebag Family must have had another knockdown drag out I thought. But wait, that was not the case.

Next door, where the Vile Filthy Rotten Cunt used to live, I could see over the fence into the backyard. There stood four Sun City police officers attempting to calm the current resident. She shall be called Florence Nightingale because that bitch was always thinking she was sick too. Florence is in her early to mid-forties and at any given time has a litany of diseases. She has asthma and heart issues but still smoke. She has some type of shoulder problem that has caused nodules to grow on the bone. She allegedly had a stroke two weeks ago and was paralyzed. She speaks like she is intentionally skipping words to mimic stroke after effects, but when you catch her off guard, her speech is just like yours or mine. I personally believe she has Munchhausen Syndrome as these illnesses all seem to flare up when her husband is going back to work or her family is about to leave after coming to help her. How she hasn't been committed before this is beyond me.

She came over yesterday during the All-Star game asking about paint. I had no idea what the hell she wanted, but Hubby had done some help for her around her house because she's just so sick and I beckoned him. He grabbed the paint she was asking about and insisted she just keep it and then mumbled something about studying and bolted upstairs. She bitched to my mother about putting all this work into their house (that they rent) and how she was going to demand that the landlord (my mom's friend) pay her back. Mom also then made up some excuse and bolted. They just left me and Little Bug downstairs with her. She tried talking to me about something and I explained very nicely we were watching the game and looking for my Baby Sis because she was there. This prompted 35 awkward minutes of her talking about baseball, Little Bug's clothing, her daughter, her surgery and her cat. I finally said "Well, thanks for coming over, I've got to get Little Bug to bed." She still stayed another 5 minutes.

Mind you, this is her NORMAL behavior. She always keeps you longer than she should when all you did was say "Hello" at the mailbox. She always talks about her wounds and issues. The faking a speech impediment things was new, but other than that, same old Florence.

Flash back to tonight and I saw Florence, surrounded by police, and a knife in her hand. She would switch back and forth from using it to point at the officers and her husband to holding it against her stomach and her thigh like she was going to cut herself. The officers didn't have their weapons drawn, but in the back yard behind hers, I could see two officers with shotguns that I would later find out were loaded with non-lethal. She was screaming and yelling, cussin' up a storm, but with the door shut, I couldn't make out what she was saying. I turned to see if anyone was watching from inside with me, couldn't have been more than 5 seconds, but as soon as I turned back, she was on the ground being cuffed.

In front of the house were a total of 7 cop cars, but there were three more around the corner, ready to leap in to action. I guess suicidal white women bring the cops out. Maybe next time I'll say the Douchebag family is white and suicidal instead of reporting the shit they really do. 

Speaking of the Douchebag family, I bet this was a night they wished everyone had been home for. The pervert old man stood outside watching, probably desperately relieved that it wasn't his house this time. His whore wife actually sent the youngest slut Athena over to ask the cops what was going on. She actually said "You guys aren't here because they called on us right?" I'm not sure if I would have asked a cop that, but guilty is as guilty does. Apparently, Florence has called on the Douchebag family a few times and they had threatened her. You can barely make out his old crusty ass next to the compound door.

This is how they left her for over an hour. They cuffed her and stuck her in the back of the squad car. She was screaming and yelling the whole time. A few times, she flailed around and banged her head against the window. When the sun started to set, they put the spotlight from the car behind hers on so they could see in the window. Great idea right? Leave the suicidal woman all by her lonesome.

One of the officers asked us if we knew her very well and we told him what we knew. He explained that she said no one cares about her, no one helps her, and she was so lonely. He said we need to talk to her more and help her out. I'm all about helping those who need it, but what if she turns the knife on us?! I have a four-year-old child I need to think about here. Besides, we do help her out. We've helped her carry in groceries without being asked, cleaned up her yard, helped paint and Hubby has fed and walked her dogs. We've stood outside for extended periods of time while she chain smokes and goes on and on about her ailments that have apparently baffled the medical community. I've sympathized, offered suggestions, let her dote on Little Bug because she misses her grand kids...what else are we supposed to do?! 

So as the cops are finally leaving, her husband comes over and tells us what happened. He says he was on the phone with her as he was coming home from work and she was talking to him like she was a 12 year old. He said she has "episodes" where she reverts back to her 12 year old self. Um, I'm not a shrink, but wither she was faking it for attention or she reverts to age 12 because that's when something traumatic happened to her. So he rushes home and as he walks in the door, she walks into the kitchen, gets a big ol' knife and holds it to her throat and says she's going to kill herself. He called the police and they somehow got her into the back yard and surrounded her.

Here's where it gets odd. He said she has these episodes and has been suicidal off and on for 3 1/2 years or so. Um, don't you think that's something you should tell your neighbors? If you thought something was fishy when she called you, call us. We're next door and could have gone over to help. My mom even told him that and he said "You could have talked her down" but in a tone that was less regretful and more accusatory. What the fuck were we supposed to do if we didn't know? I'm sorry, let me take time away from my family to baby sit your fucking wife. 

The conversation continued for a few more minutes and he didn't act like a man who's wife just threatened to kill herself. He started talking about how our front tree had died and how theirs was dying. Apparently, there is an epidemic killing 80% of the trees in Texas. Because that's more important. It wasn't even like he was trying to change the subject because he was uncomfortable, he really just didn't give a shit. 

Florence is on a 72-hour hold now, but the officers seemed pretty confident that the doctors would commit her. Here's hoping, because let that woman step over here with a knife near my baby. Lord help her.

The reality of the situation is suicide is no laughing matter. If I really felt like she was suicidal, I would not have written this blog. But I don't think she is. In my years as a LEO, I've met suicidal peeps and people who just wanted the attention. She wants the attention. The doctors were starting to tell her that all her illnesses aren't legit and she needed another attention grabber. Well honey, you got it.