Just a slump, or did my brain die?

WTF is wrong with my brain lately?

I wish I could say I had an obnoxiously amazing excuse not to post lately. Like, I went on a vacation around the world, or my husband FINALLY decided to stalk me too.  We’ve both been caught up staring into each others bespectacled eyes and sniffing each other, and couldn’t get anything done. The fanfiction that has been could be written on the subject has already  could fill three notebooks!

Naw, it ain’t like that. I just couldn’t think. I had ideas. Plenty of ideas! I just couldn’t put my ideas into words. I was beginning to think my brain had rotted. Maybe a portion of it did. The part that is used for math. You know, the part that doesn’t work anymore. No one would notice anyway. It’s not like I was a math wizard saving the world with my revolutionary math equations. Damnit. That sounds cool.

  It’s not like I care.  I don’t.

Anyway, if I was gonna be any kind of wizard I’d rather have the power to make all cats love me, and make my husband obsessed with me. I have small dreams, really.

I was actually starting to get desperate. I almost posted some of my husband fanfiction just to get something on this wasteland of a blog. Take a gander at this…

“He was so overcome by her choice ass Victoria Secret supermodel hair and hairless mustache and beard areas that he bought her a fluffy cat. She named it Cookies and would pet that fluffy cat while her masculine husband’s muscles rippled as he put together bookshelves for the many, many books he purchased for her everyday”.

The. Damn. End.

I have others, but that one is my favorite. My hair is lit, and I’m missing facial hair. I know, I missed my calling as a fanfiction writer, but I figured everyone would eventually get tired of hearing about my husband, and fairly certain my husband would kill me or possibly run away from home. So, I thought not.

my fanfic

I’ve sat here for weeks trying to force words with awkward and sometimes abysmal results. I even read other blogs with some salty results. My daughter caught me one afternoon reading one witty, and cleverly crafted blog post. I was ranting how it, “wasn’t shit” and “that bitch probably had a pancake ass”. My daughter asked why I was screaming and crying while looking at the computer? I told her to mind her own damn business and leave me alone to die. She did.

I’m not sure how other people combat writer’s block, or if I can actually claim writer’s block since I ain’t shit. Maybe I’ll just post all of my husband fanfiction from now on when I can’t think of anything to post because I can’t promise this won’t happen again.

Things are gonna get really weird in here, guys. Prepare your goggles and OSHA approved hazmat suits to prevent that second hand embarrassment.


It’s not considered stalking if it’s your own husband, right? Right?

I like to sit in the closet and sniff my husband’s shirts.

I met my husband when I was in high school, and without going into all the mushy details that will inevitably make you want to barf, he’s the best. I didn’t date him in high school. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with how much of a nerd I am, but I wasn’t cool enough to be dated by human beings in high school. We had one class together, and I stared at him. My gross eyes practically swallowing him whole as I sat across the room with the other uncool kids. He was funny and cool. So cool. That was basically all I knew because I wasn’t about to come out of hiding and speak to him. everything in my past had taught me not to talk to good looking guys. You only ogled them from a safe hiding place like a troll, or if you were brave you could sniff them while walking past on a pretend errand for something on the bookshelf behind them. I may have sniffed him. I couldn’t say.

We started dating in college, and it was everything I had ever dreamed of…but with a real boyfriend. He turned out to be intelligent, and as nice as I had imagined him to be. He was respectful to his parents, and considerate towards those around him. I practically swooned every time he walked into the room. And he had curly hair! I grew up being obsessed with boys with green eyes and curly hair. Unnf, that mess is my jam. I swear. I had outgrown my love of boys with braces by high school, so his lack of orthodontia didn’t count against him. Some people can’t help having straight teeth naturally.  He didn’t have the nerdy glasses that I had always wanted either, but nobody is perfect, and I could always buy light bulbs with a low wattage and ruin his eyesight myself.

Turns out he liked messy girls that eat like men so well he chose to marry me of his own volition. No one had to force him into it.

I swear.

Fast forward a billion years, and I still act the same way when it comes to him. I stare at my secret pictures that I took of him while he was sleeping. It’s okay, we’re married! I’m allowed. I think. Just like I’m allowed to get in the closet, put on his clothes, and sniff them all I want. It’s not a violation of personal space! He agreed to it when he married me. Like, not with his mouth in words, but it was implied. I write steamy fanfiction about us, and read it. It’s not gross because he’s my husband. I even draw husband fanart.

My grodie drawing of us as cats with a double rainbow and unicorn in the background. There’s a story that goes along with this, but that’s for another time.

Sometimes I think I have a problem, but I’m not sure. I have nothing to compare it to, and he doesn’t seem to mind. But he hasn’t read any of the fanfiction, and I haven’t offered it up.  Then again he doesn’t know I cut off one of his curls while he was sleeping, and keep it in a little envelop.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, or get me arrested.

Five things I promise myself everyday that I’ll stop doing, but keep doing anyway

I’m an adult I swear. Honestly, no I’m serious as balls, but I have a problem with telling myself no. The following is a list of things I can’t stop doing. I’ll probably still be doing them when the sun explodes, or reptiles take over the planet.

1. Reading books until the sun comes up. I have good intentions. I tell myself I’ll go to bed, or that I can speed read through the next seven chapters, but somehow I end up reading it slowly and then BOOM! It’s 8 a.m., and I hate everyone. I’m a grown up.

2. “I’ll just have two servings of that then stop”. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Never in my life has this ever happened. It’s a fun idea in theory. I like to pretend that I’m a dainty lady with a waif like appetite that makes me seem cute instead of the monster hole in my stomach that scares people, and has them loudly questioning whether or not I have a tapeworm. I don’t…..asshole.


3. I won’t forget to check my beard area for strays. Every damn time. Every. Damn. Time. It never fails that I leave my house thinking I look cute with a long as hell Rapunzel hair, whipping gloriously in the breeze. Why didn’t my mom prepare me for this? Why didn’t someone tell me I would spontaneously become a man in my thirties, and have to cry in my closet with a vat of wax?

4. I will maintain my dignity while reading fanfiction.  I would like to say that this one is a slam dunk, but I’m sorry, mom. Your daughter is a trashbag. A greasy, crazed bag of trash with food on her shirt, and sometimes wailing loudly while reading the fanfiction.

angry gollum

It’s even worse if it isn’t finished yet. Once again, I’m an adult. (sobs) I’m an adult, and I don’t read fanfiction based on the works of Jane Austen….I don’t! Don’t even ask me about good Henry Crawford/Fanny Price fanfiction because I wouldn’t be able to give you AMAZING recommendations.

5. I won’t yell in the car while driving. I have good intentions, I swear. But somehow between the driveway and the actual road those intentions disappear and morph into supreme road rage. I don’t flip anyone off or anything rude. I just say shockingly awful things about them in general that I would never say to anyone’s face. Take today for instance. I asked one lady if she had,

“lost her shitting mind?!”

Why? I have no idea. It didn’t help with the driving situation, I mean, it made it more fun, but I probably shouldn’t do it. It made it a lot of fun.

I would like to say that I have learned my lesson and I will stop doing these things as of today, but I probably won’t. Actually, I know I won’t.