Fear,Loss,And Much Needed Legislation

Halloween is normally my favorite holiday of the year. I adore using my warped idea of  creativity and dressing up as the most original characters I can think up. This year my husband and I, were going to dress up as Dog The Bounty Hunter and his trashy wife Beth. I was so excited, Halloween couldn’t come quick enough.
But all my excitement turned into deep sadness this Tuesday, when our beloved chihuahua was attacked and killed by a pit bull. The sight of walking out into my backyard and finding my fence ripped open and seeing my dogs right outside of the gate was enough to get me running,but as soon as I got to the opening, the horror that my eyes beheld stopped me in my tracks. This pit bull puppy had my chihuahua underneath him and when he heard me walk up, he lifted his head slightly to reveal that my dog’s neck was gone. I panicked and started screaming ,while the dog’s owner came running to the scene. I felt a sense of relief feeling that she would be able to control her dog,but that was quickly replaced by terror,when the dog picked up my dog like it was just a stick and ran with him sagging out of his mouth. Not knowing what to do,I ran inside called the cops,and went back out the front door hoping to find her and her savage beast gone,but to  my surprise ,she had caught her dog and was allowing him to feast off my dog shaking and ripping flesh from him ,right in my front yard. The sight of this was too much for my eyes and my stomach ,for I started puking right there.

I was sure this day couldn’t get any worse,but when the thought of having to tell my children that the dog that we’ve owned since they were toddlers was dead,I realized the worst was ahead of me. I decided very quickly, to just tell my children that Spotty got his head caught in the fence and he broke his neck. I couldn’t bear to let them know the truth,and in hindsight this was a smart move. Because not even a second after I uttered out that Spotty was gone, there were more tears shed than water in the ocean. Not to mention the heart breaking cries from my thirteen year old daughter who Spotty slept with every night,distraught, screaming “Please bring my baby back!” that turned into her losing her breathe and coming close to passing out. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night,from the visual of the attack that wouldn’t leave every time I closed my eyes,to having my daughter curled up in the fetal position in my arms weeping all night long. I still find myself exhausted ,and angry days later.

Angry because I don’t know why there aren’t better laws for pit bull ownership. Now, I realize that this statement will be met by some pit bull lovers that will say,blame the upbringing not the breed. To which I have to say ,I have lost all patience for such statements. You see, in the last four years I have had three different occurrences with this breed, and all have left me horrified. From having two pit bulls  make their way into my front door and bite me,then the time that I watched an old man get mauled so badly he needed reconstructive surgery to look human again,and now Spotty.  The dog that killed my dog so brutally was a four-month old puppy.Surely this dog didn’t have enough time to be potty trained,much less to be taught to kill so gruesomely.So the idea that it has to do with bad upbringing is a moot point to me.All my compassion for this breed is gone and is replaced by determination to do something about this problem. I truly believe that some sort of legislation needs to be put in place, to help the grotesque visions that have robbed me of my sleep from happening to someone else. These dogs as I have seen with my own two eyes are deadly weapons, and I believe should be treated as such. I feel that a law needs to  be put in place that declares that in order to own a pit bull, a person needs to go through training on how to handle such a breed before they are allowed to purchase one. I’ve seen too many times, some dumb ass (who without a doubt has to have a small penis) get a pit, just to walk around like they are a bad ass. It’s just fucking stupid,and an accident waiting to happen. Something needs to change!

On a lighter note, we did go out this week and got a new puppy. He’s an English Bulldog ,and his name is Clyde,or Clyderman as he has been nicknamed.Although he doesn’t take all the pain of losing Spotty away,he is helping my kids smile again.

A Really Shitty Story

With HALLOWEEN approaching quickly, I decided to set aside all my  inhibitions and come clean about a true scary story that happened to yours truly just this weekend. But before I begin to tell you , I need to stress that this story is NOT for the weak at heart , just thinking about it now makes me shudder with fear .So if you know yourself to not be able to handle a story with way too many gory details,please turn away now… before it’s too late,and you’re scarred for life, like me!
OK,now that they’re gone and all that’s left is the sick at heart. I will proceed with   …..“The Tale  Of The Day Shit Went Horribly Wrong”

It was a dark and stormy night…OK I lied it was actually a bright and sunny morning in Thinkinfyou land. When sweet and innocent Thinkinfyou decided to take her family out for a day of fall festivity fun.She had been planning this day all week,and was more than excited to get the day on it’s way. She thought that  first they would stop by the pumpkin patch and pick out five perfect gourdes for carving later that night,then it would be on to a fall carnival for more quality family time and fair food galore…for she was never one to say no to a fried oreo,caramel apple,or a funnel cake either. A couple of hours and funnel cakes later the family was on their way back to their homestead when the youngest of the group decided it was the perfect time to announce that he needed supplies for a school project that was due Monday morning. The family had no choice other than to stop at the only store that was left on the road home….Wal-Mart.

Although Thinkinfyou was riddled with fear knowing that she had to take her beloved  family into a store that is known to have scary people wandering through it no matter what time of year,she found the courage to enter but only after she warned them all to stay close and to not touch any of the patrons. Showing no fear they all entered the store and immediately headed off to find the supplies. Hunting and gathering for only mere minutes they had found almost all the needed to check out and leave,when all of a sudden poor Thinkinfyou was taken to her knees with pain from her stomach, that warned with gurgling noises after the first funnel cake that one was enough ,but like the sweet yet rebellious dumb ass she is,she didn’t listen and went on to eat two more. Her stomach  had had enough and to make Thinkinfyou suffer for not listening to it ,decided that in the middle of a hillybilly infested Wal-Mart was the perfect place to make her pay.

You see,her stomach knew all too well that Thinkinfyou and all that’s wonderful about her has one fatal flaw, she cannot shit in a public place. No, she would rather shit herself on the way home in the car than sit on a toilet that isn’t her own.But her stomach was relentlessly taunting her with pain so bad, she had no choice but to ask the lazy eyed lispy Wal-Mart worker that looked like he wanted to eat her children, where the restroom was. Thankfully he used hand gestures to tell her the way,for she could not understand his Walmartian language. She yelled at her husband to guard her youngest with his life , meet her in the car, and if she didn’t survive this trip to the bathroom to know she loved them both, and with that was off with her daughters in hand running through a sea of walmartians .
Seconds later, they arrived at the restroom door ,using the bottom of her shirt Thinkinfyou pushed open the door, and came face to face with a family of inbreds that were camping out in there. There they were six of them standing along the wall ,enjoying the conditioned air ,while two of their littlest spawn played in the soiled toilet water in the first stall.Horrified by their strange acts,Thinkinfyou wanted to turn around and run,but when she went to turn and go, her stomach growl at her and said, “Wrong bitch,you’ve got no other choice than to shit here!” and she knew it wasn’t fucking around.
So she and her girls went down to the handicap stall at the end of the restroom and locked the door behind them. All three of them knew they were in a bad place and Thinkinfyou was about to cry but she held back her tears ,dropped her pants, hovered an inch or two over the bowl,and pushed…but nothing happened.Her brain had taken over and was not going to allow her stomach to win. It kept throwing thoughts into her head like,” you are going to get ass cancer if that toilet water splashes up on your ass” and “OMG there has got to be inbred feces all over the place in here, your children are never going to be the same. “Her stomach must have been able to hear her thoughts because every time she would have one ,her stomach would spasm even harder. Thinkinfyou wasn’t sure who to side with ,and her indecision brought on the sweats. Her oldest daughter saw this and got her a wet paper towel to cool her down,but one touch of the damp paper towel caused Thinkinfyou’s vision to go blurry and within seconds her body was starting to feel weak like she was going to pass out. Her brain went crazy yelling at her. What the fuck,Thinkinfyou, do you want your 15 minutes of fame to be ” Girl passes out in Wal-Mart bathroom and get molested by inbred family,only to be found by paramedics with her shit soaked pants around her ankles and now is suffering from a severe case of ass cancer!” Get your ass up and out of there now!

Thankfully,Thinkinfyou  listened to her brain and told her daughters to hold her up and get her to the car as fast as they could,and then douse themselves and her with hand sanitizer,if they wanted to live! They listened quickly to their mother and got her to safety. And they all lived happily ever after. The End!
Oh,and if you didn’t like my story or just want to hear more frightening tales ,head on over to Humorbloggers.com. They’ve got, a Halloween Carnival going on right, and your funny!

Committing Ablogtery

Forgive me,blog readers, for I have sinned. Although it’s not been quite a week since my last entry, I feel the need to confess something to you, something that I hope doesn’t change things between us. You see,I have been unfaithful to Thinkinfyou and have been spending the last week with another site. I know, I know, it’s unforgivable,but please hear me out. I never meant for this to happen because I truly love writing Thinkinfyou .Even though I’ve only been writing it for a little less than two years, the love affair I have with only bearing my deepest most twisted thoughts on here is one that I was sure would last a lifetime,or at least until they came up with a medicine to make the voices stop.

But this last week I did the unthinkable, I  gave into peer pressure and signed up for a Facebook account, which is something I swore that I would never do. Every time someone would say to me ” Oh Thinkinfyou, you really need a Facebook account. You would love it over there.” , I would always reply ,” No thank you, I enjoy spending my time on the internet being an anonymous pervert.” I loved the fact  that only me,my readers,and some random government profiler sees me as the clown lusting, vibrator junkie, who talks to her own asshole on occasion ,true me. Last week though when I was urged again to join, someone put something else in their sales ploy, they  said I might get addicted,and well, my life doesn’t function properly without more addictions than fingers,and seeing that I gave up on smoking crack last week, I decided what the hell.

I signed up and instantly started looking up people I knew, finding one friend led to another friend and even had people find me and requesting to be my friend.I was feeling quite popular. Before long ,people were messaging me and sending me weird virtual gifts( thank you,Lisa, for the tampon flute! I’ve always wanted one!),and I was hooked. I was staying up all hours of the night waiting for people to change their statuses to something else upbeat and wonderful ,or get a lonely black sheep to wander onto their Farmville farm. I was  mesmerized by the  company of  a new site,but after a few days I realized it didn’t give me the same feeling blogging does. It took me awhile to put my finger on what the difference was,but I finally realized I found it all too cheerful. Honestly ,after a week I bored of reading about  how so and so just ate a fabulous healthy dinner with their 2.5 kids,or how someone else just completed a marathon for underprivileged children.

The whole thing left me feeling like such a loser, that if I would have continued a relationship with Facebook would have become a liar. I mean, I know my life doesn’t have healthy ,philanthropistic qualities to it,and I’m OK with that and so are the readers of my blog. I just wasn’t sure if the friends I made on Facebook would be OK with it. So I tried out a little experiment to see if my Facebook friends could handle me being the true me,and decided to let my FB friends in on my life by following their lead and giving them life updates,Thinkinfyou style. Everything I did, I updated,like ” Thinkinfyou-just wiped,or Thinkinfyou- Masturbated 15 minutes ago and is ready for round two of self sexing! Needless to say, my friend count went down rather quickly,and that’s when I knew I needed to stay true to myself ,and  the real virtual love in my life,right here on Thinkinfyou.  I do hope that you all will forgive my indiscretion , accept my heartfelt apology,and know that I did learn a lot through my Facebook  mistake. What did I learn you might ask? Well I learned that  there is something  very sacred about having a place where one can let all their fucked up thoughts out to play and make friends. That doesn’t happen very often in the real world, especially when your thoughts are like the weird retarded kid on the playground… everyone smiles, but doesn’t want to get too close .

Beating A Birthday

Pssst! Hey,over here!

Now I know you might be wondering why the hell is Thinkinfyou hiding behind a damn bush. Well,if you must know it’s October 14th,and we all remember what happened last year.
This year I’m not taking any chances of having my abusive birthday fuck with me again. Now I know what you are thinking, people and birthdays can change, and to that I say, you don’t know my birthday. Put it this way, I can tell it hasn’t changed since waking up Monday morning and finding that it has sent me an early birthday present. Fucker got together with Mother Nature and decided it would be fun to make me cramp and bleed enough to be able to give everyone in a third world country a transfusion. Bastard!  I’m sure it got wind that I was going to spend its day at the beach and decided to make me have to change my plans.  Asshole knows I have a thing against chumming the waters for sharks. So no beach going for me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let October 14th win. No way!I’m going to beat it no matter what, even if that means having to hide behind this bush until the 15th, I’ll do it!

Now if only this fucking dog would stop trying to sniff and hump me I’d be fine. UGH! Wish me luck,but not a happy birthday!

The Search For Thinkinfyou

After spending the last three weeks brain fucked with no sign of a mindgasm, I was about give up on ever trying to turn out another literary masterpiece here on Thinkinfyou ever again. You see,believe it or not there is a recipe that I go by to bust out a post and well, my warped mind is the main ingredient.So living in an uncomfortable dry humped state of mind just wasn’t letting me be the artist I know I am. I thought my creativity and desire to write was gone for good,but this morning when I got on my computer and decided to go check my blog’s dashboard everything changed.

In big bold letters half way down the page was the word Search Engine Terms,and below that was a lengthy list a list of  terms that people have used to find my blog.Everything from hairy nipple girl to big ass sexer, which I have no idea what it means ,but it doesn’t matter it shows that the internet and warped people out there everywhere NEED me. So there is no way that I can stay in the state of mind I have been in. I need to get it together and write . So people who search for clown fetishes,anus problems,saggy testicles, and fingering have a place to go to get their needs met. One cannot deny their calling,and well, being a source for all the sick and twisted’s  needs I found out today is mine, the big ass sexer that I am.

Getting To Know You, First Memory Edition

After yesterday’s exhausting post, I’ve decided to switch it up a bit and bring my focus back to you, the readers.Y’all have a way of always making me feel better. So today I come to you wanting to talk about memories,the kind that light the corners of your mind,even if the light has dimmed to just a shadow, I want to know what you remember as your very first memory.

Now I don’t know if I’ve ever told you but  I have a memory like an elephant? Yes,it’s true. I remember everything and oddly enough it seems like the more time that passes my memories become twice as vivid. I’m not sure whether it’s a blessing or a curse but it is something I possess and always have from a very young age.
In fact my first whole memory dates back to the year 1975. I was three years old that day and was spending it at home with my mother watching television. I recall being quite excited because within a few minutes my favorite show, “The New Zoo Revue” would be coming on ,and hell have no fury like my three year old self being deprived of a day without Henrietta Hippo,Freddie The Frog, and Charlie The Owl.

But on this certain day my mother decided that ” The Young And The Restless” her favorite show ,would be more educational for my young mind and got up and turned the channel. I recall throwing somewhat of a pint size fit,that was quelled quite easily with her peace offering of chewing gum. I took the gum ,shoved it in my mouth,and crawled back up behind her on the couch. Within seconds, my mother asked me to play with her hair while she watched her show,and being the little angel on a sugar high I was, my hands went immediately to her hair determined to coiffure her in the most amazing styles.

Ten minutes later though, I had become bored and my tiny hands were tingling with exhaustion,and I could tell that my mother was beginning to doze off,so I stopped,hoping she was in a deep enough sleep for me to slip off the couch and turn it to my show,instead of watching to see if  Nicki was going to accept Victor’s marriage proposal or not,but as soon as I made my move, my mother  woke up and told me to keep messing with her hair. I had no choice but to start again.This time I was  a little agitated knowing I was putting her to sleep with my magic hands,and missing my show for nothing.  I wondered if Henrietta ,Freddie and Charlie missed me like I was missing them, while having to stay in this hair playing hell that seemed like it would never end. I tried everything to end it from stopping,to pulling her hair a bit to hard to wake her,but everything I did would just amount to her stirring enough to tell me to start again. After about fifteen starts and stops , I did the only thing my three year old mine thought was right  to do. I took the well chewed piece of gum from my mouth and planted it on the top of her head. It just sat there like a beautiful pink crown glistening in her light brown long hair, I thought it looked amazing and added such contrast to the styles I was coiffuring . Seconds later I started thinking how much more beautiful her hair would be if I only had more gum to add to my masterpiece. So I woke my mother up and asked for another piece of gum. In a groggy voice she asked me if I had swallowed my last piece,to which I answered no, I remembered being told that if you swallowed gum it would get stuck on your insides,only to come out seven years later in your poop,and as much gum as I’d swallow since being allowed to chew it I was afraid by age ten my butt would be so chalked full of gum I would never be able to poop again.

More alarmed by my non swallowing she jumped up from the couch and started flipping the cushions over ,asking again and again where the gum was. I stood there mesmerized watching the gum holding steady on the top of her head while she went crazy looking for the sticky mess,not saying a word. I guess she must have caught my stares because moments later she stopped searching and like slow motion her hand went up to the top of her head,and simultaneously her face went from puzzled to pissed within seconds. One touch and she unleashed , roaring in my direction to get in my room and just wait till my father got home! I bolted to my room as fast as I could  and hid in my closet for the rest of the day,wondering what was going to happen when my dad came home, I had no idea but I knew that it wouldn’t be good. 

The funny thing is, that is where the memory goes blurry. I don’t remember what happened when my father got home,but I’ll never forget the beauty that was my Bubble Yum Bouffant.

Now it’s your turn ,reach as far back as you can,and tell me what you remember.

Musical Medicine

I have been in such a funk lately,not wanting to write or do anything at all really.Lots of change going on in Thinkinfyou land and I guess I’m not rolling with the changes as well as usual. Now, normally when I find myself in a mood like this I turn to music. Music to me is the best form of therapy available, and not as creepy or expensive as a lot of therapists I’ve been to. I  just turn it on,listen, and move to the beat and within the first verse I feel my spirits lifting. Lately though, I haven’t been listening to music ,just to the thoughts in my head which are nowhere near as sweet.

So I’ve decided today instead of dwelling in the hate of change ,I’m going to go back to my tried and true music remedy. I think I’ll start off with some Dave Matthews Band. I love that band and find them easier to swallow than any anti depressants I’ve ingested, plus the side effects are much better…believe it or not,I have mad dancing skills. After I OD on DMB, I don’t know what musical drug I’ll turn to next. So  if you use music as a mood alterer and don’t mind, why don’t you hook me up,and tell me what band works for you as a mental bandaid.

Getting To Know You, Theme Song Edition

Feel free to call me lazy,but I just can’t seem to get it together to write anything lately. I think waking up early to get the kids back off to school is kicking my ass and leaving me worthless for the rest of the day. And although I’m walking through my life right now like an illiterate zombie, I couldn’t let my readers down by not posting my regular “Getting To Know You” post. Because I really do want to know more about all of you. So I decided to repost an old post from way back in May of last year. I really liked this post and think the question it poses in it, tells a lot about a person. So read on and let me know your answers!

“Wouldn’t it be great if everyone in the world had their own theme song that would follow them wherever they went? Kind of like Rocky ,Shaft ,or Tony Mareno in” Saturday Night Fever“. I think it would make the world a better place.

Think about how much you could learn about someone within the first couple of verses of their song. Takes the whole first impression thing to a whole new level and probably prejudice too. If someone showed up with a song you couldn’t stand, I’d place bets you wouldn’t be as friendly. In crowds it might be a bit annoying, but then again it might create a beautiful harmony. I think though over all this idea has more benefits than hindrances. It would be helpful with people who lack self- confidence. Imagine walking into a room of strangers with your own personal groove following you, you couldn’t help but have more skip in your step. People overall would be happier; because it a proven fact that music helps the mood.

Talking to friends and family about this today, I feel I must put a warning on this idea. DO NOT let anyone else pick your theme song!! I repeat DO NOT let anyone else pick your theme song! When asking today, what do you think my theme song should be, the answers I got were a bit disturbing. My son who’s ten said “well I think your theme song when your mad should be the song from “Jaws”“,nice huh? The other answers for the day were “Psycho” By, Puddle of Mudd, “Lady” by The Commordores, “Get Back” by Ludacris ( I was told that I’m like a white female Ludacris, because of my loud voice and love of the F word) or “Crazy Bitch” by  Buckcherry. Leaves me thinking I need new friends and family!!!! All the songs have a great beat, but I don’t see any of them being worthy enough of theme song status. My pick would be “Just A Girl” by No Doubt, great beat, great lyrics, and a perfect description of me.

Before I post, I leave you with this question; if you could have a theme song that would follow you around wherever you went, what would yours be?????”

Playing Favorites And WINNING!

Today,dear readers I’m going to let you in on a huge source of sadness in my life,something that has plagued me for years leaving me feeling far from whole,and always close to tears. You see,I have walked through this life never being someone’s favorite. I know, I know what you’re saying “What!?! Thinkinfyou with her sparkling wit and wholesome goodness that she exudes from her being, isn’t someone’s favorite! That’s preposterous!” Trust me I’ve said the same thing myself many of times but it doesn’t change the fact that I lived my life as an unfavorite to many. The closest I ever got to being someone’s favorite was this one time when I tried to sneak by my drunk uncle unnoticed ,he grabbed me into a huge bear hug,and mid embrace told me I’d always been his favorite,but then proceeded to call me by my older sister’s name, so I don’t know if that counts.

I really thought I would go to my grave being a unfavorite ,but  two months ago everything changed when I became a bird owner and a favorite all in the same day!Now I had never owned a bird before the love of my life,and I certainly wouldn’t have thought of myself as a “bird” type of person,but once she flew into my life and laid claim on me as her one and only favorite, everything changed. I now spend my days channeling my inner pirate because as soon as she gets out of her cage in the morning she wants nothing more than to perch on my shoulder and enjoy my company. She even bites anyone who tries to get near me ,and I love her for that. She would never think of biting me ,instead I’ve taught her to give me kisses,but only to me because I’m her favorite.It doesn’t even matter  that she shits every two seconds, throws her bird food all over the place, has a brain the size of a small raisin,and loves to scare small children because she has impeccable taste in favorites,and that’s what’s really important.

Getting To Know You, Wet Dream Edition

“Getting to know you. Getting to know all about you. Getting to like you. Getting to hope you like me.”

You know the song. Sing along with me. Because I’m back with this week’s installment  of “Getting  To Know YOU” my lovely readers.  Last week’s post was quite successful and left me craving to know more about you. Sure, learning your nicknames was a great start and made me feel like inviting you over for a sleepover ,but I feel that’s still a little risky because I know nothing about your sleeping habits,and I’m not talking about whether you are a sleep walker or a bed wetter,those things would just add a bit more fun and excitement to our slumber party. No, what I need to know before this friendship goes any further is,have you ever had a wet dream and if so who was it with? Now I realize some of you might not see where this information would be relative to getting to know you as a person,but someone once said(and I can’t for the life of me remember who said it)that you are closer to your real self when you dream,and I for one would like to believe that is true. You really should see me in my dreams ,I’m quite awesome. But I want to know about YOUR dreams,wet ones to be exact. Who is it or was it with? Please don’t  be embarrassed about divulging such information . I want you to know that we are all friends here,no judging allowed,and if that isn’t enough for you to feel comfort in spilling your sexy dream time, I’ll go first….

Now I’m sure most of you are under the impression that Thinkinfyou is quite the perv always writing about filthy things so  you assume that my wet dream experience list is longer than most novels,but you’d be wrong. To be honest with you, I’ve only had one wet dream that I can remember.Seriously, just one but that one was disturbing enough waking up feeling that if what that person said is true well then I don’t know myself at all. For I spent the night dreaming of playing an intense game of hide the sausage with Sean Connery. Not that I remember all the intimate details of the dream ,they are locked up but scratching at the door of my subconscious,but this wasn’t the 007 Sean Connery of his glory days,although if my memory serves me right  he did have a golden finger,but that might of just been because I told you, I’m awesome in my dreams.

No, the Sean Connery I allowed so freely in my active state of slumber to give me the Thunderball,was a geriatric version of Sir Sean. I think I might have change a diaper or two during our REM romp, and I can still hear him saying in that great Scottish accent, ” Double Oh Thinkinfyou,Let’s bond, sex bond.”It was soooo wrong ,but yet so satisfying.

Now don’t get me wrong, Sean Connery isn’t totally unfuckable in real life . In fact, in his youth he was a nice looking man,but a man I never in my life looked at and thought, “I want a piece of that.”The man is 42 years older than me,and not that anything is wrong with Grandpa lovin,I just never thought it was my thing. So why would he be the one that would pop my wet dream cherry? I don’t think I’ll ever know ,nor do I want to for that matter.I just know now, that if in fact  you are closer to knowing your true self through your dreams, I  need to stay away from Scottish men and nursing homes because those are my true self’s kinks,and they just might mess up my quest for out of dream awesomeness.

But now dear readers, it is your turn to tell me who has come into your dreams and left you with a mess to clean up in the morning. Don’t be nervous,just think how much closer it will make us as  friends when you tell me all about that one dream with those frisky gnomes,or the time you dreamt your body was a lust filled habitrail and you liked it. Remember I’m not here to judge,I’m just here to listen ,and get to know YOU,the real you.