Neanderthal Woman

Battle for the Planet of the Apes

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Thoughts on Ambien not so Full of Grace:
So, languidly and apologetically, I must say something. Not all twenty-somethings are the missing link to Neanderthal woman and Attack of the Fifty foot Dumbed Down Dyed Blonde.

P.S. Send Beckett Couvillion my love

P.S.
Send Beckett Couvillion my love

Not all attempt to defraud the government and profess a yearning to better the world in one false swoop of ignorant bliss.
Some pay their way through college on their dime and on their time and raise a family, sometimes with Baby Daddy, most often not.
Most do not claim indecent exposure of the plus side of life; they managed to work, volunteer, balance good with bad and cry at night once the kids are a sleep.
The handfuls of upper middle class ‘I want to be an adult…I really do!’ that live with Mum and Daddy. Rake sawdust to better the environment and pray to no higher power. These children dressed in Trazodone/Ambien disguise prey off the idea that ‘someone somewhere owes them something.’

Today there had been a beautiful woman to the likes I had never seen. She was balancing a child on one hip, scolding another child and handing out commands as though she had been running the tightest ship in the shipping business.
She gives to the local community via their needs and wants. She is proud and strong and versatile in what is given…for she and many like her know all too well what is needed.
She is a daughter to the next generation. No mother or father to pave a path of bad intentions and spoiled sexual ideation topped with gender bender idealism.
AmeriCorps VISTA, FEMA, spoilers of the spoiled brats have handed down karaoke machines, sweet drinks and open mic nights to these Romney descendants. The 1% of America that her majesty should disown. There are no nude portraits. No fingers held behind the back to which the Annie/Ambien’s speak promises with forked tongue. There is a generation out there willing to pay their fair share. Pick up the mess and gluttony of my group of wanton hippies and attempt to make the grass green again.
Why is it the privilege few are marking every leg with the scent of oblivious inadequacy? The papered in money few are soiling the lot of the working class.
Again, there are your tax dollars at work.
I suppose there is nothing we can do but POP another Ambien and hop it all goes away.

the Good Mother

We never did too much talkin' anyway

We never did too much talkin’ anyway

 

Get this: When I was young I stole, drank, pillaged and plundered…not once had the word, DISOWNMENT been mentioned.
If nothing else, my strictly Catholic without Deviation Parents embraced my Avant-Garde thoughts and my off the cuff ideals. Homosexuality? Individuality? Question Authority? All characteristics Ma and Pa New Hampshire endorsed and encouraged.
While on my tour of Ambien Grace-land this past summer, the word, DISOWNMENT had been used in over 60 messages.
All relating to Ambien’s no quite so devoted democratic Mother and her strange twist on sexual idealism.
‘My mother will disown me if she finds out I’m gay, again!’
‘That’s why I have no social life…there have already been threats of disownment with Penny.’
‘I hope you’ll understand I can’t come out to my mother right now…she’ll disown me.’

Being gay is completely against nature so it is wrong.”  via Mother Theresa, supposed Enlightened Elitist Professing these thoughts at a State University near you.

Can there be forgiveness on her part? What should a twenty two year old do with a parent like that? How dare anyone be different than a stereotypical white bread upper middle class never touched a minority in her life, Adopt-A-Mother?
I believe Mother Theresa and Ann Coulter are the same devil in unnatural fibers:
Ann Coulter, of course, was “just kidding,” no doubt, when she wrote via Twitter, “Last Thursday was national ‘coming out’ day. This Monday is national ‘disown your son’ day.”

Ha ha! Wow, that is so funny. I’m sure that the more than 100,000 homeless LGBTQ youth — who literally have been disowned and kicked out of their homes by their parents just because they are LGBTQ — are laughing.
And, I honestly believe the suicidal tendencies of closeted Young Americans would lighten up a little if they just took themselves less seriously.
What a research project this family and many others like it could be for the right extremist out of the closet after years of hatred and bigotry, lesbian!
Yet, as Ambien once said, I just have to learn to work around her and lie to her…that’s just how it is…
Putting to shame all the out lesbians, transgendered, gay men and ‘different’ not earth people everywhere!

Don’t think twice…Ambien’s, Annie’s, Gracie’s of the World…it’s alright!

It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don’t know by now
It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don’t matter anyhow
When the rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I’ll be gone
You’re the reason I’m travelin’ on
But don’t think twice, it’s all right.
It ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
It’s a light I never knowed
It ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
I’m on the dark side of the road
Still, I wish there was something you could do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin’ anyway
So don’t think twice, it’s all right.
It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, now
Like you’ve never done before
It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, now
I can’t hear you anymore
I’m a-thinkin’ and a-wond’rin’ all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child, I’m told
I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don’t think twice, it’s all right.
I’m walkin’ down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I’m bound, I can’t tell
But goodbye’s too good a word, babe
So I’ll just say “Fare Thee Well.”

I ain't saying you treated me unkind  You could have done better, but I don't mind  You just kinda wasted my precious time

I ain’t saying you treated me unkind
You could have done better, but I don’t mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time

But don’t think twice, it’s all right
Don’t think twice, it’s all right.

Camp Chlamydia

where have all the hero's gone

where have all the hero’s gone

 

Traveling through the satellite images of my mind; vague and unclear, pagan and not far from sexual deviancy…I found this tidbit online.
You see I have nothing but time on my hands for volunteering for VISTA is a farce. I look busy; I wear the outfits, bad unnatural colors that do nothing for my weight problem. I am however, still, Ambien Grace, AKA Gracie Williams and/or Gracie Lou Free My Bush Up.
In trenched in homework, not! Abiding by my peer mentor who appears to be in the midst of ‘the change’ and who also didn’t really need the hormone injections because, shit, Sista’ you look John Goodman. Following as I do so well, I have yet to get that boost. The trigger that will move back the hands of time and just like a Chai Pet; Ambien Grace, the leader and protagonist appears.
Not happening…Check this one out”
I was rushed to pack on leaving this program and informed that if I had left anything they would mail it back, they lied… oh and if you’re a Christian they will persecute you till you quit… I don’t recommend this program. Oh that whole peer helper confidentiality thing is bogus… never trust them to be someone you can talk to. You’re paid to put up with each other, that doesn’t mean you should have to be friends so don’t trust any of your team or unit mates… They just want to see you fired or pressure you into quitting… oh and forced to see the opposite genders boxers is offensive … seriously there is a degree of respect that should be shown…. the older you are the more respect people should be showing… I was informed in this program that they didn’t have to respect me because they were younger and that I didn’t deserve respect! Well I became ill from poor nutrition, and messed up my foot do to the lack of respect in the fact that I required special dietary needs and was not athletic. We were forced to work out in goose and dog poop which is completely unsanitary! …. This program is not professional or appropriate. I was persecuted for my faith, bullied by the team and TL; and then the stole my water bottle because they could not be bothered to keep their word and mail it to me…. I spent my personal money on it and did not ask to be rushed in packing when I realized I had forgotten it they said don’t worry we will mail it back to you… thieves that is what I have to say!

 

You know if someone took my thongs and my porno…I’d be pissed. As it is, the tides of the tragic will be coming soon and I’ll be facing my past.
It does concern me that I am older than most in my F-Up Troop and I just don’t get no respect. I even tried flirting with the other butch women to no avail. That’s okay; I’d be at odds to which one of us would be on top.
So much for now from Winchester VA…keep those tax dollars coming-
Ambien, Annie and Gracie

 

 

Hello Muddah, hello Fadduh,
Here I am at Camp Star
Camp is very entertaining
And they say we’ll have some fun if we start training.

 

I went hiking with Amber who looks like an Archie.
She developed poison ivy!
You remember Kayla my mentor
She got ptomaine poisoning last night after dinner.

 

All the supervisors hate the government
And the land looks like broken pavement.
And the head counselor wants no sissies
So he reads to us from something called I eat Pussies.

 

Now I don’t want this should scare ya
But my bunkmate has chlamydia
You remember my alter ego, Gracie Williams?
Don’t care what they say; I won’t stop lookin’ ‘til I find ‘em.

 

Take me home, oh muddah fadduh, take me home, I hate Virginia
Don’t leave me out in the forest where I might get eaten by a redneck.
Take me home, I promise I will not make noise or mess the house with
Dirty boys, oh please don’t make me stay, I’ve been here and I can’t get out of my own way.

 

Dearest fadduh, darling muddah,
How’s my precious little Beckett Couvillion?
Let me come home if ya miss me
I will even let heterosexuals hug and kiss me.

 

Wait a minute, it stopped hailing,
Dykes are swimming, Dykes are sailing,
Playing baseball, gee that’s better,
Muddah Fadduh please disregard this letter.

 

The Blood that I Need

Adoption

So show me family
All the blood that I will bleed
I don’t know where I belong
I don’t know where I went wrong

When I had told my mother, that fateful and not faithful day in November, about my perversions with a married woman; that had been the last nail in the coffin.  It was in fact the end of my swan song.

Never again would I be given the ‘it’s only Ambien being Ambien’ response.  Forever emblazoned in my history with ‘family’ would I be the outcast from trailer park DNA.  Years can and will go by.  Volunteering will be a thing of the past.  My work experience will read like graffiti on a public bathroom wall.  And, my relationship with homophobia, will be my legacy.

The sexual tone to my relationship with Mother Theresa has shown me that I could never be the partner she needed me to be.

The making of my GYN appointments, the buying of the clothes and the dressing me in the likeness of her SELF are now memory massages with weak hands.

Adoption is a funny thing.  On one hand the willingness to succumb to all the distorted rhetoric from misogynistic Adopt-A-Partners causes glee.

A message that is heard around the world; look at me I no longer need to be white trash.

But bunked up with the Bears somewhere south of DC; the thoughts and mistaken identity rushes me like a cup of over flowing chocolate milk.

Have I again through fault of my own; conformed?  Became a Plain Jane or a Ambien Annie, just to be liked and petted by Mother Theresa!

Rejection letters litter my life with a capital Z!  Zombies in a adopt a zombie wasteland.

Lesbian Wardrobe 4 Sale! Cheap!

my Mum forbids thoughts of reckless individuality

my Mum forbids thoughts of reckless individuality

Long Distance Love Note to Mother Theresa

How to be a Homophobic Lesbian
1. Wear non-earth tone colors. Preferably, pink, chartreuse, grammar school bathroom green and/or any purple you can find.
2. Have continuous unprotected sex with males and brag about it to your mother.
3. Run away and join the circus, the armed forces or volunteer with other large young adults to do the next right thing for America.
4. Pursue your mother’s passions not your own. Conform. Conform. Conform.
5. Have your mother braid your hair and pick/buy your clothes for you. Remember she has been a practicing heterosexual homophobe ideals much longer than you have.
6. See life as a box and do not step out of it with any ideas such as; originality, individuality and attempts at questioning authority.
7. Boost and boast about your sexual triumphs with men and disregard the failed attempts at being gay…perhaps, it was just a passing phase.
8. Become frumpy and dumpy and hope that no one notices the weight you’ve gained while transitioning over to heterosexual land.
9. Take a boat load of meds and nude photos of yourself. Remember bad publicity is better than none at all.
10. Last and certainly, not least, the only true love you will ever have for women will be your overbearing mother. The relationship maybe as close to ‘sexual’ that you will ever have without having to be who you truly are.
In my case, the flannel, the work boots, the thermals, the episodes of porn with women on women need to be tossed away. I’ve learned to bat my eye lashes, which are in need of waxing, and boost my biggest asset in hopes of attaining non innovative thoughts, my breasts. Every man loves a woman with swollen breasts. At least, that is what mother Theresa has told me.

Thank You for your time, you’ve all been so much more than kind-

Ambien, the Annie C., Grace