Monday, May 30, 2011

An Open Letter

To All My Friends Who Are Dudes:

Hey. Remember me? Yeah, you do. I'm that one chick with the huge tits and long hair. Yep, that's the one. Yeah, the loud one. Oh yeah, I cuss like a sailor too. I'm pushy and opinionated and sarcastic and cynical.

I'm the dickless guy friend. You remember me. And you love me because I play that role very well.

It's the way people expect me to act. They think of me, and they already have a pretty good idea of how I'm going to react to just about any situation. They also know that I tend to keep my head down and personal shit to myself. Don't be bringing none of that in here.

I am the dickless guy friend. I play video games, go bar hopping just to get drunk and party, likes tattoos, drives a truck. (For those of my male friends that this does not apply to: most of my crowd fits this description.) I have successfully been a female wing man. Most of the time, I don't even have to back up whatever charm my dude friend is trying to pull off. I just exist in his vicinity.

Can I let you in on a little secret, though?

I'm getting tired of playing this game.

People expect me to behave a certain way. I almost feel like there are rules to follow for how I act. It's real fun watching those rules collide with "voice your opinions/feelings/thoughts on this subject".

I'm tired of being the dickless guy friend. Because being the dickless guy friend is interfering with me being ME, and being comfortable with my life. And right now, I really need that.

I need for my mind to quit overanalyzing every word spoken to me, every personal interaction, everything. When you see me with a blank face, staring at nothing? I'm not spaced out, having an ADD moment. No, my mind is kicked into overdrive, going over a particular day, appointment, conversation. Dissecting it and examining every angle.

And I can't stop it.

No wonder I'm always high-strung and agitated.

Let me be me, people. Not the gunblogger, not the dickless guy friend, not the fighter or crazy driver of the Blazer from Hell.

Me.

Please.


Sincerely,

Snarky

Thursday, May 26, 2011

A New Project

Okay kids. I think I need to call upon the vast wonders of the internet and all you freaks and geeks on it for a bit of assistance.

I have an idea for a new project to fill my idle time (because I seem to have an overabundance of it). Except I need outside opinions for this project.

So, from time to time, starting NOW, I will ask questions of you lovely folks. If you could be so kind as to leave your answers in the comment sections, it would be greatly appreciated. Also, refer friends to any post needing opinions and feedback: I want opinions of people from all walks of life, not just any one clique in the world.

As I said, the feedback would be greatly appreciated, and I can promise you updates on this Sooper Sekrit Project as they become available, and you folks will be the first to know once it is completed.

But for now...

When you think of a tattoo parlor, what is the general train of thought you end up with? What emotions strike you at the thought of walking in, what do you expect to see, and what do you think when you do see it?

Leave your answers in the comment section below, and thanks bunches for participating!

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Holy Crap!

So. I've been a very busy girl.

I've pretty much relocated to Springfield, MO. Bigger town, better jobs, MORE jobs, and more trouble for me to get into on weekends. Oh yeah. I went there.

You can blame Stud Roomie. He had a bad week at work and decided he needed to start drinking again. So I brought him down, because he used to live down here. And it was just a 32-hour whirlwind of beer and shenanigans.... no beer in me, thanks, I had to be sober to figure out WHERE THE FUCK I WAS.

And then we stopped by a tattoo parlor to visit a friend of Bret's, and instead found his tattoo artist. Who I immediately hit it off with.

Say hello to Ink Slinger, my new favorite person.

Oh, he's a fun one. A little off in the head, but tattoo artists usually are. That's what makes them fun, right?

He's a good person. That's a first for me: someone who respects and appreciates me? WOW! The world must be ending!

Wait, what's today's date...?

*snerk*

More later when I can organize my thoughts just a wee bit better.