Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Go Fund Yourself

The Internet has blessed us with a lot of things. You can google anything and have your results in seconds. You can self-diagnose, (my personal favorite!) order pizza, stalk your ex, look up recipes, and keep up with the Kardashian's. All this from the comfort of your living room.

You can also start a GoFundMe page. It's essentially a crowdfunding platform. Think of it as a fundraiser for...well, everything.

The other day I half jokingly said I wanted to start a GoFundMe page of my own. Not because I'm poor, or need a liver transplant. Because I can pay my bills and my liver still probably has some years left on it. But my daughter told me I'd be that asshole who would raise ten thousand dollars for my "I need singles for the strip club" campaign. (The strip club is totally hypothetical, BT dubs. Not because I don't support single (stripping) mothers to the fullest extent, but I'm from a small town. You can imagine the caliber of "dancers" we have with our four stop lights & meth lab to trailer park ratio. It's safe to say Juicy J won't be making it rain anywhere nearby). I digress.

Back to the GoFundMe idea.

People use this platform to raise money for sick children. It's also used to help people rebuild their homes after horrific accidents. All completely plausible reasons.

Then you have people like this:

This train wreck was trying to raise $800 to erase her very bad decision. (For those wondering, she surpassed her goal.) While I'm glad she was able to gather the funds, money can't buy you common sense.

Will's dumb ass needs drug money. Isn't the Narcan you'll no doubt need & receive enough, Will?

Ivory wants a bottle of Hennessy. Don't we all though?



This guy is going bald and needs hella hats. Who wants to break it to him that his hairline is still intact and it's going to get much, much worse?



This fucking idiot attempted to raise money for her much needed abortion. (I'm pretty sure birth control is still free, no?)  Looks like she raked in enough to cover 4 or 5 of them. Try not to run through that money too quickly, Bailey. Because GoFundMe has banned people asking for money to pay for abortions.

I don't know how this guy did it but he raised a shit ton of money in an attempt to make potato salad. Hmmm.

Yaya here is trying to pick up some white privilege. I'm certain even white people can't buy white privilege. But carry on, Yaya.


Jah, your mother wants you to put some clothes on and read a book.
.
I have a really novel concept. There are actual places you can go to get money. Yep, for real. In exchange for 40+ hours a week of work, they'll cut you a real life paycheck. I know, I know, your minds are blown.

via GIPHY

Would you guys donate to any of these causes? If you were to make a GoFundMe for any ignorant reason and not be judged, what would your goal be? As for me, stay tuned for my own GoFundMe scenario.




http://jenerallyinformed.com/http://epicmommyadventures.com/http://www.myrandommusings.co.uk/blog-page_9/

Monday, April 17, 2017

10 Things You'll (Probably) Hate About Me

truth

Man I promise, I'm so self-conscious. That's why you always see me with at least one of my watches.

Just kidding. I was having a Kayne moment.

I've been blogging since October. Playing it safer than the guy who double bags it for sex and takes an antibiotic after. Don't get me wrong, I've been authentic. I'm a cheeky little thing. But my ass aside, I think I'm a sarcastic bundle of fun. (See what I did there? Double entendre or nah?)

But.

I'm not really here for the perks. (Although if a company wants to holla at your girl, I'd be happy to oblige. My contact info is below.)

I'm here to puke my thoughts into the world. Isn't everybody?

A couple of months ago, Laura and I were sliding into each others' DMs. (Because that's where it goes down.) I asked her to send me a link to her favorite post. After all, my blog is but a mere infant. I'm still looking for my niche, still deciding on my direction. 

But that's a lie. A lie I've been telling myself since I started blogging in October.  I'm no longer forever 21. I know exactly who I am and I know exactly which direction I'm heading. (Most likely to the liquor store on Elm Street.) 

As some of you may have (pretend you have) noticed, I've been absent for a while. I lost someone very important to me last week. He was young, intelligent, and so very full of life. It's hard to believe that in one instant, he's gone. I'll never see his face or hear his voice again. I immediately heard that old cliche; "Life's too short." But it is. Life is so very short. Too short, in fact, to live life in a mediocre fashion. I don't want to spend the time I have left on this earth living half truths. I want to say what I mean and mean what I say. So here we are...

Unfiltered, like Grandpa's Lucky Strikes.
 The blogging world is pretty much the same as the real world. Opinions, strong personalities, prolific writers, Moms, and Dads. Funny people, bitter people, people who should educate themselves. Sweethearts and assholes. Yes, the blog game is no different than real life. 

Lately, I've found myself in a predicament. As I'm blog hopping, I come across posts that leave me shaking my head. More so, posts that leave me biting my tongue. That little voice says, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything." If I followed that mantra explicitly, I'd be mute. Believe that. 


I speak my mind because it hurts to bite my tongue.

I drafted a post way back in January. (Don't worry, it's coming soon.) Perhaps you remember? It was right around the time my fellow women were marching in the streets dressed as vaginas. Sticking their maxi-pads on walls and chanting about their period blood. The headlines of the news strewn with hate about our President. Bloggers claiming they're terrified, losing sleep over this rich man with a bad tan. If I had a dime for every time I read "I'm moving out of the country" I'd buy you all a safe space to go to...so you wouldn't come back. 

I'm not interested in turning my blog into a political parade. That's just not me. What I am interested in is no longer being the silent majority. God forbid I'm crucified for my vote. I'm proud of my country. I'm proud of our President and I hold out great hope that he's going to make America great again. Why would you wish for anything less? 

How many of you are going to stop reading my blog because of this? I don't know and honestly, I don't care. I still read your blogs despite the fact we don't share the same political views. I have a love for the written word in any capacity. 

In fairness of disclosure, I'm going to leave you with 10 honest things about me. You can decide then if you hate me or love me. 


1. I voted for Trump. There. I said it. Gasp in horror or high five me on the low. Either way. 

2. My friends refer to me as the anti-feminist. Don't worry. You'll come to learn why soon enough. 

3. I have a foul mouth.
©unt is my profanity of choice. How bout dah?

4. I support the legalization of marijuana.

5. I often don't put my shopping cart back in the cart corral at the grocery store.

6. There are only two genders.
You're a male or a female. You aren't an alien, a vacuum cleaner or a toaster.

7. I'm a gun toting, card-carrying member of the NRA. 

8. Being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen were some of the best days of my life.

9. I'm the product of a botched abortion.
 Yet I'm a pro-choice Republican. How's that for an enigma?

10. I'm not sorry and you'll never change my mind. 
Please remember this when you're leaving your comment below.


By the way, I missed all of your faces!