Cracked

Sigh.

I just found out that Ethan dropped Baby Ethan on his head.

Baby Ethan suffered a slight fracture, according to his dad. What the hell is a slight fracture? Isn't that like being a little pregnant? Either it's broken or it's not. Simple. Anyway, the little man is okay. That is what's important.

Sweet Pea has started preschool and is loving it. She goes for 3 hours a day and gets to play with kids her own age and learn social skills. She's such a sweetie pie and I'm sure she gets along great with everyone. Plus she gets to get out of the house every day and get some fresh air.

I'm sure Ethan is happy about her going to school. Now he can put the baby down for a nap and masturbate himself into a coma. Come on! You know it's true! He's still looking at porn on the Internet and you know it!

Fatherless Son

What now?

Ethan is the father of a son. Will he get a full-time job and allow his testicles to descend back into the scrotum or will he raise his son to be a bum? Like father, like son?

Hubby brought up a good point the other day. Ethan's dad is a bum, too. We've met Big Ethan several times. He's a tall bearded and balding man. (He's holding on to the James Taylor look and he needs to let it go!) Big Ethan has a wife who works full-time, 3 more children, and a mortgage. Big Ethan works at Home Depot part-time.

Nuff said.

Please don't paint these boys as victims of the current state of the economy. They CHOOSE to live this way.

I just feel horrible that Sweet Pea and her baby brother will grow up with a poor example of what a man is and should be.

Remember, Sharon is the same bitch who made the comment, "Unemployment is more of a ghetto problem. I don't know a single white man who does not want to work!".

No Going Back

Now that it's 2009, I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that Sharon is going to try to use the new year as an excuse to wedge herself back into our lives. We went over to their house to give Sweet Pea her Christmas gift a couple of nights ago. The visit itself was short and painless because they were packing (more about that later), but it did leave a familiar taste in my mouth. You know, like when you wake up with yuck mouth after a night of drinking. It's not so good.

They were packing to go on a road trip to Arizona for some secret cultish white college schoolmates from the Midwest for Jesus reunion. I hope Jesus actually does attend this reunion so He can heal Sharon and her psycho buddies. If God can allow Moses to part the Red Sea, surely He can make Sharon's moo-cow friends push away from the table. I know, that was mean. Like you've never had an impure thought. Sharon was her usual happy nosey self. She asked tons of questions in rapidfire succession. She was fidgiting like she had to pee but it was because she really wanted us to leave so they could hit the road. Getting us to leave was not a problem. The house was a fucking mess and there was a stale odor in the air. In other words, it was business as usual. Now I know that having children makes it impossible to keep a neat house, but does it does it make you forget what a mop and broom are for? Does it make you forget that toilets do need to be cleaned on a regular basis? Does it make you forget that the dishes do not wash themselves? Of course not! But that is Sharon's argument!

Sweet Pea was thoroughly excited about her gift. She loves Ariel from The Little Mermaid, so we got her the styling head. Ethan was more anxious to open the box than she was. And he kept staring at it. I know what he was thinking and the answer is NO. She does not have a mouth that opens and closes, you dirty bastard! I can only imagine what redhead he was fantasizing about while he was looking at poor Princess Ariel. Maybe it was one of those bubble-breasted hookers on the porn website he joined with Sharon's credit card. Her name is probably something stupid like Patty Cake.

Sweet Pea was not happy about us leaving just as she was showing the kids the new accessories she got for her play kitchen. This time she didn't make a big fuss though. It was close to her bedtime and I think she was tired. She was being very talkative and her vocabulary is amazing! She has grown a lot and we miss having her over.

What is wrong with these people!

Sorry it's been so long without updates. I can't believe how busy my life has been lately. Good, but very busy.

The kids are all in school full-time. No more half-days. Yay! I remember being close to a nervous breakdown when I had to make 3 trips a day to the school for 3 different beginning and ending times. Needless to say, I couldn't hold down a job with such an insane schedule. There were times I would wake up almost in tears to think of starting the day all over again. I wasn't a woman, I was a mother, driver, cook, maid, scheduler, etc. I lost myself for awhile. Now 5 years later I am finding myself again.

My husband and I are still a team and we put our family first. Lately we have been discussing having another baby. I don't know how we would do it, but then again, I remember saying that with each child and it has always worked out just fine.

Sharon and Ethan have a new addition to their family. Lil Ethan was recently born, poor baby. Even though we want nothing more to do with them as friends, we still keep in touch for the sake of Sweet Pea. We are her godparents after all. We went to visit Sweet Pea shortly after the new baby was born. She just had her 3rd birthday and she is chatting up a storm. It was so much fun listening to her go on about her dresses and how she's a big sister now. She was super happy to see our kids and show them all the toys and goodies in her room. None of them seemed too curious about the baby and only gave him a passing glance as they walked in the door. He is a cutie pie with blond hair. He looks a lot like Sharon's older brother.

Ethan had been outside grilling hot dogs and burgers. They invited us to eat with them and we accepted the invitation. The visit was rather awkward and I was happy to pass the time with something other than Sharon's prying questions and Ethan's dumb one word answers to our questions. We walked into the kitchen and the patio door was wide open. It was a hot day and they said they wanted to get some kind of breeze going in the house. The front door was wide open too. There was a good breeze coming in. There was something else coming in, too. Flies. Dozens of flies everywhere. On the food. On the table. On the window. On the baby!

I wanted to slap the shit out of Sharon and ask her if she had finally lost her mind. Neither one of these disgusting people was concerned about the fact that flies were vomiting and walking on their food and on their kid. Ethan had the nerve to say "Oh, I see we have a few flies". Shiiiiiiiiiit! That's like saying John McCain has a few gray hairs! What a fuckin' understatement. Long story short, I grabbed paper plates and proceeded to cover all the exposed food. We quickly ate the patties and hot dogs that I had smuggled from the bottom of the pile of meat. I watched in horror as Sharon momentarily glanced at the baby in his car seat with flies on his face and then turned back to her plate of food. What the fuck is wrong with these people! THAT IS THE NASTIEST SHIT EVER!!

I couldn't take it anymore, so I assigned myself as guardian of Lil Ethan's face. I swiped at each fly that came close to landing on him. I probably looked like I was shadow boxing at the rate I was swinging. I looked behind me at the wide open patio door and wondered why they fly infestation wasn't enough to prompt them to close it. It was hot, but not that damn hot. Where I come from, flies are not welcomed in areas where food is present. I don't think the U.S. is a third world country. Even though Sarah Palin could certainly take us there. Damn she's stupid. Anyway, after a few minutes we all moved to the less infested living room where someone had the sense to close the front door. It was probably one of my kids. The longer we talked the more I remembered why I dumped Sharon as a friend. She asked a bunch of prying questions and cocked her head to one side in her usual way. She was analyzing us and our answers. Ethan was sitting next to her like a big turd. He said nothing unless he was spoken to. He was probably uncomfortable in the presence of a real man- a WORKING man. He's still working 2 part-time jobs and playing volleyball every weekend. Now that Sharon is on maternity leave until December, he can't get his freak on with the computer babes. So the real question is... how long can Ethan go until his next temper tantrum?

Attention Whore!

Well tons of time has passed since my last rant. That may well be because I have had little or no communication with 'them'. Life took over and I got busy. I assume Sharon and Ethan are busy too-- what with a 2-year old, a mortgage, and another neglected child on the way. And for those of you who think I'm being extreme by using the word neglect, all I have to say is that well cared for babies do not, DO NOT have continuous diaper rash for months on end. Period.

So let's catch up. Sharon is pregnant... again. Let me break this down for you. Sharon and Ethan have a group of white friends from their separate life that all happened to be pregnant at the same time. All were having their FIRST baby. How do I know this? They all post their business online life every other retard on MySpace and other such public forums that organize cries for attention. Anyway, Sharon and Ethan were the only ones in their circle who had children. Suddenly, all these couples were happy and anxious. They were posting pictures of growing bellies, shopping lists, and personal feelings on their webpages. I'm pretty sure that as Sharon was reading these joyous messages, her life suddenly gave off an overwhelming aroma of shit. Her husband was still whacking off in front of the computer while her child was taking a nap in the next room. She looked up and found herself in the role of husband while her husband was at home licking his wounds and trying to convince himself that he was just a new-age dad. (BULLSHIT) Here Sharon was, working a full-time job and bringing work home with her while Ethan continued to perfect the art of being a pussy. It couldn't get any shittier than that.

Oh, it can always get shittier! Sharon's older brother and his wife announced that they were pregnant with their first baby. WHAM! The bottom fell out of Sharon's box of games. Sharon, the only daughter, had been the mother of the only grandchild. Sweet Pea had all the attention, all the gifts, and all the camera time. Now, a new baby was in the wings waiting to make his entrance. Sweet Pea was now the "old baby". Why am I going into all of this? Because I find it to be a little more than coincidence that Sharon and Ethan would choose NOW to get pregnant. Not now, when Ethan still has no full-time job and his testicles still have not dropped into his goody sack. My question is, how do you even get yourself in the mood to fuck a boy (not a man) like Ethan? I would be terribly afraid of being infected with his sperm and increasing the population of whimpy pussyfied muthas who won't work. This is your contribution to society? Thanks a lot!! And they wonder how the Jerry Springer show stays on the air.

Cue the violins

We went to church for the first time in a couple of months. The highlight of my day was seeing Sweet Pea. She has hair now! And she was actually wearing little clips in her hair. She was excited to see us, and we were excited to see here. Well, I was forced to speak to Sharon, who was standing nearby. She was very stiff and looked petrified. She didn't know how to talk to me. I bet she thought I was going to cuss her out or worse-- totally ignore her. C'mon, in church?

We made small talk while watching the kids run around with Sweet Pea (yes she is running now) and making sure they didn't go running out the door. Papa was busy trying to speak to anyone he could find just to NOT have to speak to Ethan. I couldn't blame him. Ethan is still working to part-time jobs that only add up to 20 hours a week combined. That's not even the worst part. Sharon looked a little pasty to me and was being mysteriously quiet, which is totally not like her. She's always bumping her damn gums about something. Then she dropped a bomb on me. Are you ready? Wait for it...

Scroll down...

THEY'RE PREGNANT!

It's Been Too Long...

...since we've seen Sweet Pea. We were having a conversation about her last week. We miss her and the kids do, too. I came awful close to calling Sharon and asking her if we could spend time with Sweet Pea, but in the end I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I thought about what would happen if I made that phone call. Sure, the gesture seemed innocent enough but I would really be opening a gate that I couldn't close. I thought about the horror movie The Gate and decided that the risk was too great. We would be asking for a hand that they would force an arm down our throats. That's the way they are, which is why we had to cut ties in the first place.

Am I scared that they will reject me? No. I would actually welcome the rejection because it would mean that they wouldn't be using Sweet Pea as an excuse to come over and to call. In an ideal world we could all get along just for the sake of the children. But that's my ideal. In Sharon's ideal world all minorities would be living in a big ass animal park where the white folks can come and point and take pictures of us and say "Aww, look at the poor endangered Negro, Josh." Then they could sign up to participate in some bogus volunteer program so they could come hand feed us fried chicken and collard greens. Then some over-educated white woman (Sharon) would name herself an expert on Negroes because she studied us in our habitat for a few years. I know, I'm going to hell for saying that. LOL!

Titts vs. Tatts

Like I have said numerous times before, Sharon is a hypocrite of the worst kind. One example is the fact that she has a tattoo on her hip. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that people with tattoos are sinners or that they are any less Christians than a non-tattooed person. Sharon's tattoo is not a leftover from her days as a sinner. It's not even indicative of her overall style of dress. Picture Marcy Darcy with a tattoo-- doesn't seem right, yet it makes perfect sense. She only got it to show people that she really isn't a prude after all. What it really tells me is that she's probably a slut trapped in a prude's body.



Sharon was raised in the Midwest, remember? She grew up in the church and never had the chance to drink or have sex or even live like a normal teenager. She was a teenage church robot until she was 25. So, why the tattoo? Who the hell knows. By the way, I think the tattoo is of a fairy or something seemingly innocent. As the entire world knows, the biggest sluts have those Disney-like tattoos.



One night I was having yet another marathon phone chat with Sharon. The subject of breast implants came up. I said that if I had the money, I would probably get implants. I have nursed 3 babies and my girls look a little sad and deflated. I think I owe it to myself. Just like I figured, Sharon gave her 2 cents about the subject. She said that she was "totally against breast implants" and that it was wrong to permanently alter what God gave you. She had fallen right into my trap. Wasn't a tattoo a form of permanent alteration? Sharon argued that tattoos were the exception because it wasn't adding something foreign to your body. And right on cue, I said, "Um, last time I checked people are not born with ink drawings in their skin".



We argued back and forth. I said that getting a boob job was just like dying your hair. Both are done because the same old thing gets boring after awhile. There's nothing wrong with change. Plus, after 3 pregnancies I owed it to myself to feel like a woman and not just a mommy. Sharon's argument was that it was just wrong. Period. I took 3 debate classes in college and LOVE to argue. For more than a half hour I grilled that bitch like the side of beef that she will one day look like. Eventually, she was well done. She never came up with an adequate reason for why she is so against cosmetic surgery. Not that I give a rat's ass what she thinks.

I already know she hates fake boobs because Ethan loves 'em.

Happenings

Since my last post:

• Sharon sent us an invitation to Sweet Pea's birthday party. We decided not to go but we sent her a really nice gift. We are really enjoying not having to walk on eggshells while she shows us off to her white family as the "people from the ghetto". We really do miss Sweet Pea a lot. It's sad that her parents are such retards. I wonder if she has forgotten about us. Maybe I hope so for her sake.

• We have not been to church in ages. I haven't missed it much because I am so tired of fake people. I talk to God about it often. He knows my issues. My sister told us that Sharon hugged her one day after church. This is not normal because Sharon and my sister don't normally talk. It's not that they don't like each other. They just don't associate with one another. Is she trying to get to me through my sister? Is my sister the next best thing?

• My husband went to Bible study 3 nights ago and Ethan was there. Ethan walked right up to my husband and poised himself to fire off dozens of questions so he could report the answers back to Sharon. All he managed to ask was "How are you guys doing?" when they were interrupted by someone else. And that was the end of that conversation.

New Year's Eve, Mormon Style

It was time to party. Our church was having a couples' New Year's Eve celebration and most of the couples were gonna be there. There was dinner and dancing. You may think that 'church' and 'party' don't go together, but that's a lie. Being a Christian does not mean you have to be a prude. We had a DJ playing some serious old skool cuts and even some new stuff like Usher.



I spent hours at the mall looking for the perfect outfit for that night. I wanted something sexy yet classy. That is very hard to find these days. Plus, I'm petite. So it was even harder to find something that fit. I had some gowns in mind but all of them dragged the floor because I'm only 5'2. So that option was out. I finally found a pink number that was perfect. It was just above the knee and it had a little glitter in it. It showed off my small waist and my curves but it left the rest up to the imagination. Classy! I wanted to look good for my man. Period. I found a pair of heels that bordered on stripper-trashy. Perfect!



The night of the party we walked into the room and saw that most of the couples were there already enjoying the music and the people. We were basically kidnapped and forced to take several pictures. Normally I would be annoyed but it must have meant that we were looking good. And were were. My husband was wearing a nice white shirt with a Mandarin collar and some black slacks. He wore his long hair down because he knew how much I loved it. He was my handsome prince. We were saying our "hello's" while simultaneously scanning the room to pick out our table. We decided to sit at a table with only 2 empty seats left. That was our insurance that Ethan and Sharon could not sit with us. Who the hell wants to spend New Year's Eve with the Killjoy couple?



They made their entrance a few minutes later. Ethan, the bum, was wearing a wrinkled cotton Cuban shirt with some cheap ass slacks. He might have been wearing his signature flip flops but I don't remember looking at his feet. I never look at people's feet. But what Sharon was wearing was ESPECIALLY retarded. She had on a white Greek-goddess-wannabe dress kinda like this one. No makeup. No jewelry. No surprise. For a minute I felt myself having a suspended moment. You know, like when you walk into a room and then stand there suspended in thought, trying to remember why you came in there in the first place? For a minute I thought it was Halloween and this was a costume party. I bet she bought that piece of shit at a post-Halloween clearance sale. She would have said something like, "Oh gosh! I found this dress on sale at the 99¢ Store! Can you believe it?!" Better yet, she probably found it in a trunk in her mother's attic or something. That's what it looked like. Waste not, want not. She thought she was cute, but I wasn't gonna break her heart no matter how much of a bitch she really was. I told her she was lookin' cute (gag). Then I smiled inside and enjoyed the look on her face when she realized that our table was full. I asked if they were staying at the hotel across the street like most of the couples were. She said no, because the baby was with her parents and her mother refused to get up with the baby at night. It's really not as sad as it sounds. She didn't look at all disappointed when she said that. It's not like they actually enjoy having sex-- not with each other!

Did I mention that these two Quaker wannabe's did the fucking Hand Jive when they came down the Soul Train line?