Sick Songs of the Season

Hold on to your pants  dear readers,because  I,the normally pessimistic Thinkinfyou have found myself really into the Christmas spirit this year. Seriously, I don’t know what happened ,but every morning I wake up  in a festive mood wanting to bake cookies,and decorate everything in sight with tinsel. And  NO, I haven’t been huffing, sniffing,smoking,or drinking anything! I’ve just been feeling overly jolly lately,and YES, that is the first time  that I’ve ever described myself as “jolly”and I think I like it. Jolly is the perfect word right now for my demeanor,so much so that I believe  if I was only just a few inches shorter I would be scouted out to become one of Santa’s elves by Santa himself.

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Unfortunately my jolly mood hasn’t seemed to have transferred on to the masses. Everywhere I go I see nasty,mean,bitter people that wouldn’t know jolliness if you shoved some up their ass. It’s sad really,and it got me wondering, why is it so hard for most to get into the season?

Then it came to me,maybe it’s the Christmas music that floats through the air and is inescapable whenever you leave your home this time of year that’s to blame. Honestly,if you really listen to a lot of the Christmas classics the message can be misconstrued and be taken as anything but jolly.

Take for instance, the classic ” I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”. Surely nobody really wants to sing the praises of their mother’s whoring ways,fondling, and sucking face with old men no matter who they are. It  just isn’t something you want to sing about. Plus,it really isn’t a laugh when Daddy walks in and sees Mommy kissing Santa Claus,that’s usually when Daddy leaves,and doesn’t come back.So if this song brings up some of these bad memories of Christmases past,you might want to try and find the instrumental version of this classic. Although ,I’m not sure if that will be enough because you’ll still  have to  hear that old man yelling “Ho,Ho,Ho”,and know he’s talking about your mom…You might just want to check out Judaism to solve this problem.
This next classic has always struck me wrong,and I can totally see why it would dampen  spirits. To me,“Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” always seemed  like a cover up song,so nobody had to  know that “Grandma” was really a huge drunk that dabbled in bestiality,and went a little too far with it.” There were hoof prints on her forehead”,that just says to me she was asking for it! No wonder Grandpa took it so well,I’m sure he was glad he didn’t have to compete with big bucks anymore. Nasty,dirty Grandma,even a holiday song couldn’t halt the imagines that your filthy habits left behind. I say scrap this song altogether!
Finally I give you a song that most likely responsible for many horrible gifts that you’ve received over the years.  “The Twelve Days Of Christmas” I believe should be changed if it is  to be played at all during the Christmas season. Really,who the hell wants a Partridge in a pear tree for Christmas,especially from their true love!?! Men, let me give you a huge piece of advice, do not listen to this song before going shopping for the lovely lady in your life because although nine ladies dancing might be your idea of the perfect present , trust me she won’t feel the same and you’ll probably receive a nice set of blue balls in return for your thoughtfulness.
I could go on and on dissecting Christmas songs for what they really say,from watching your beloved snowman die a horrible death, to the song where mean reindeer made fun of a little reindeer with a severe but useful birth defect,but I won’t because I want to stay jolly,at least for the season.

Do You Believe?

With Thanksgiving out of the way and gone like most of the leftovers from the feast,it’s on to the Christmas season here in the Thinkinfyou household,and I couldn’t be more excited. Excited because I believe Christmas time is the one time of the year it’s OK to have an overactive imagination and not have to worry about being committed into a psych ward for it.

There is nothing better in my eyes than watching people young and old getting caught up in the spirit of the season ,and opening their imaginations up so that the idea of a jolly old fat man,who spends most of his time with midgets and reindeer,isn’t considered some sort of freak that they warn their children to stay away from. No, thanks to the power of imagination this jolly old fat man is revered and treasured so much that he is allowed to come into our homes in the middle of the night, eat our cookies, and drink our milk,just as long as he leaves us presents galore. Not a bad trade off if you ask me,but I’ve always LOVED the idea of Santa Claus,and it has nothing to do with my fascination with midgets either(except for the ones with big heads and short arms,they get me every time). No, for as long as I can remember I couldn’t wait till Christmas eve to lay out my cookies and extra large glass of milk for Santa along with a well written letter explaining why I hadn’t been as good as I could have been ,and going on to say that if he would forgive my minor infractions and leave me more presents than my sister, I’d promise to try harder to be better next year…it worked like a charm for years.

Even when I became an adult and had children of my own, I still found myself excited on Christmas eve helping them put out their cookies and proofreading their apology letters for Saint Nick. You see, it didn’t matter if I had to play a bigger part helping their imaginations come to life, the magic was still there. Trust me, there is nothing more awe-inspiring than a child’s face on Christmas morning.

With my children being older now,and totally against the idea of going to the mall to sit on some old man in a bad Santa suit’s lap, I was thrilled that my siblings had started families of their own so there would be young children with vivid imaginations that I could play with during the Christmas holidays. Unfortunately last night when I called my older sister,(the one that I asked for more presents than)and asked her what her two beautiful six and four year old boys were asking Santa for for Christmas,she proceeded to tell me that they don’t do Santa Claus. Within those words I was crushed. WHAT?!?! NO SANTA CLAUS!! No, the holiday she said is all about Jesus and his birthday,so her boys will get three gifts just like Jesus got on his birthday,this was about the point that I started thinking, “Where the fuck can I get my hands on some myrrh?!?”
Don’t get me wrong I realize that Jesus is the reason for the season and I’ve made sure to make his birth a big part of our Christmas celebration over the years,but I never thought that Jesus would mind sharing his birthday with a jolly fat man that’s job is to bring a little joy to the people of the world. In fact, I would bet that Jesus wishes more people would be happy,give selflessly to others, and be trusting enough to take a cookie from a stranger…  you know, like Santa Claus.

A Dream Come True!!

I can’t even begin to describe the excitement that is coursing through my veins at this very minute. AHHHH! Tell me, have you ever had a dream that you never thought in a million years would come to fruition? You thought about it forever and tried with all your might to make it come true ,and nothing.Then one day out of the blue, you are blessed with the bounty of that treasured dream landing right in your lap and allowing you to wallow in it’s wonder for as long as you’d like. Well, today was that day for me,people, and I really think I’m walking away from it a changed woman.

Today, I got to see Danny Devito naked in all his five foot tall glory. I know, I know, I’m one lucky girl. This desire to see Danny in his beautiful natural state has been with me since his days on Taxi. I can remember watching that show and just wishing I was a little bit older,and that I wouldn’t gain any more height as I aged, just so I could one day behold this splendorous thing.
Unfortunately, over time, I grew to over five foot, Danny went on to get married,and the dream was buried somewhere deep in my subconscious willing itself to die daily. Then today  comes along,and I went out and bought myself a early Christmas present in the form of “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia” “A Very Sunny Christmas” DVD,and it breathed new life into that old dream.FX Networks – It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia – Full Episodes and Exclusive Video.

Now I knew that this gift would bring me joy,considering every week I can’t miss an episode of the best show on television. Really,if you haven’t seen the show,your life is missing some much needed happiness. Make time Thursday nights at 10 EST on FX,and prepare yourself for the best 30 minutes of your life…it’s just that good.
After you have come back and thanked me for changing your life by turning you on to,” It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia”,you’ll find yourself compelled to go out and buy yourself the same early Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa(whatever you celebrate)present that I bought today. Once you’re done enjoying your early gift harvest a plenty,don’t be surprised if you realize that seeing Danny Devito naked is a dream come true for you too!

When I Grow Up, I Want To Be….

I helped celebrate my oldest daughter’s birthday in September.She turned the big 1 9,which is so surreal to me.It seems like yesterday that she was running around with nothing but a diaper on and needed me to do everything for her, including wiping her butt. Needless to say, things have changed,not only do I not have to wipe her butt anymore which I don’t miss,but I also don’t get to give her a kiss goodnight anymore and that is a bit more difficult.She moved out a little over two months ago now and is having the time of her life at college,which makes missing her easier because she’s happy.
Every time I talk to her I can hear the excitement in her voice from all the learning and exploring she’s is doing. She is so put together and driven for being just nineteen,she knows what she wants and is on course to achieve it. I don’t think a mother could be more proud of her child,so I make sure to encourage her to reach for the stars because if you can think it you can be it!  And if that isn’t enough I take the time and tell her the story again of her go getting mother. You see way back when, when I was young and free, and life was full of options ,I had dreams big dreams.I can remember my first desire for my future when I was  very little, I wanted nothing more than  to marry a farmer and have seven kids…I know I know, it shows, when I dream… I dream BIG.

Thankfully over time my dream changed.Probably when I realized that I really didn’t enjoy early mornings,the smell of animal feces, or manual labor.Not to mention once I found out that babies would more than likely have to  come out of my vag, I knew seven kids was a bit much. I was certain that by baby five, my vagina would be so worn out that it would be like throwing a hotdog down a hallway for my hard working farmer hubby sexually,although it might come in quite handy for helping carry a hay bail or two,it wasn’t worth the risk,so I trashed that dream.

Some time around middle school, a new dream for my future came to be when  I recognized that I had quite the knack for arguing quite convincingly and getting my way,so I decided that it was my destiny to become a lawyer. I guess I didn’t realize that in order to become a lawyer you really have to apply yourself in school,and well for me applying myself wouldn’t have worked  in really well with my social schedule. I had parties to go to and people to see,which didn’t leave much time or energy for homework. So when my senior year rolled around and I had to go visit my guidance counselor to discuss what I was going to do with my life,the bitch of a counselor almost spewed coffee out of her nose when I told her of my plans of wanting to go to law school. Once she wiped her coffee snot away from her nose, she looked at me and told me that I needed to look into going to beauty school! Beauty school, my ass. I mean sure I did my own hair with amazing flair,aqua netting that shit up so high,I was like a walking work of hair art,but there was a brain under that perfect coif,granted it wasn’t used much and maybe was a bit damaged from being a ganja goddess,but a brain just the same, I could have been a lawyer.

But shortly after she voiced her doubt in my abilities, my career choice changed again. I decided I needed to become a counselor. The way I looked at it was  if this stupid woman who was  without a doubt suffering from a severe case of hair envy could go to college,graduate and get a job helping kids with their problems and finding their direction in life I could do it no matter how many times I OPed(overpotted.) In fact if you really must know, I sometimes wonder if  I’m Sigmund Freud reincarnated.

Seriously,how else can I explain my thoughts on everything in life without relating it to sex.Not to mention the fact that I’ve always blamed my mother for all that’s wrong in my life. I could have been the new Freud…if only I could grow facial hair,we’d be one in the same.Don’t tell me you can’t see the resemblance!
But after a while that dream died too. It’s like with all career ambitions in my life,I have the attention span of a two year old on crack,so I never see anything come to fruition.But I don’t stop dreaming of my true calling, or the day when female facial hair is in vogue. Because when whichever comes first I KNOW I’m going to be successful,and sexy!
Now I know I’m not the only big dreamer out there. So tell me what did you want to be when you grew up ,did you achieve it , change it,or are you still waiting to grow up like me?

Getting To Know You, Pet Peeve Edition

Thinkinfyou here and I’m back with the latest installment of “Getting To Know You” my lovely readers. Today’s subject is pet peeves. I believe knowing what gets under someone’s skin and pisses them off is essential in truly knowing that person,well that and their favorite sexual fetishes, but I’ll save that question for another post.

Today what I really want to know is, what makes your blood boil? Is it people who’s personal hygiene failures engulf all your senses,that you could swear that you can taste butt crack every time they pass? That use to be my #1 pet peeve,but has been replaced as of late with a much bigger personal annoyance, FAKE PEOPLE,and I’m not talking about the blow up kind that keep the surprised look on their face long  after you violated every plastic orifice you could find. I know, I know, she was asking for it.No, the kind of fake I’m referring to is the type that always act like everything is wonderful, even when it’s not. It could be raining shit on them and they’ll say something like ” Yes, I know I’m covered with shit from head to toe ,but just think how pretty the flowers will be this spring!”  I believe they call it “positive thinking” ,but I call it denial. Things can’t always be wonderful,and there is nothing wrong with calling it like it is.Hell if it is raining shit on me, I’m going to be like “fuck the flowers get this shit off me!”

The fake types I speak of also annoy the piss out of me when they throw their fakeness at others.You can be in a crowded room with Mr. or Mrs. Fake and they’ll pick out the worst dressed person there and hurl their fakeness at them by exclaiming how much they LOVE their outfit,while the real people around them look shocked almost blow up doll like.Oh,and one fake compliment is never enough for Mr. or Mrs. Fake,no. They have to go on for hours and hours throwing fake compliments much like a monkey throws it’s feces,and with the same results too. The more they throw, the more it smells.

Now, I’m not saying  be mean to the fashionable challenged,but don’t go falsely fueling their bad taste either. It’s just not right. I say,say what you feel and think. BE REAL,no matter the circumstances. Don’t spend your time being a fake  idiot because believe it or not, you’re not fooling anyone. People see through it and nine times out of ten, it really pisses them off!

OK, now that I purged my biggest peeve to you. I ask you , tell me what’s your biggest pet peeve?

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.