you are both right. If they person I wronged can forgive me I guess it is okay to forgive myself, so I take it back. I will be back. I love you all. Sorry I made everyone worry.
I have fucked something up quite badly. Maybe irreparably I don’t know. And I will be back at least one last time to tell you why and what I did about it, but as of right now the blog is gone. I can’t get into it right now it is too raw and much too humiliating and horrifying and what it says about me as a person I don’t know.
Please don’t comment. I will be back with an explanation.
Just realized the date my lovelies. This explains a lot of things. If you are me.
So, today is the day my Brother, my favorite brother decided he’d had enough and punched his ticket to get off the ride. And I get it and I got it when he did it and I don’t hate him for it and I don’t think he is a coward or that he went to hell or any of that bullshit. I believe he just got tired of all the memories, he got tired of looking at all the scars, he got tired of all the scars nobody could see and he said Fuck it.
Since I am still the owner of this blog, I figure I can write what I want and this is what I am writing about today because I have been having a shitty time of it lately and I am hoping maybe vomiting this up will help me a little. Who the fuck knows. If you don’t want to read it don’t, if you do, then please do. This is not me looking for anyone’s sympathy it is simply something I feel compelled to do.
I miss you Bobby. You were my only solace, my saviour, my surrogate Dad and my best friend. I would give anything I have just to be wrapped in those strong arms one more time and hugged and told how much you love me.
I get it. I always did, but you took such a big chunk of me with you. Since you always knew I didn’t believe in a higher power I’m not expecting to see you once I die. Call me a pragmatist. What I do hope is that we somehow come back. I will look for you brother. I will look forever.
I know life was a shit show, but even still we had so many good times. I will remember till the day I die even if I get dementia or some shit you sneaking me out of the house and across the boarder to a Kiss concert of all things. And being the most caring brother on the planet you even made sure I had hearing protection. You held me on your shoulders for the entire thing and you made me feel like a princess.
You are responsible for my life long love affair with rock music, Kiss, and Rush. They opened and nobody knew who the hell they were. But we did because they were ours.
I remember all the rides in the get away jeep and you, even being so much older than me not being to old to pretend we were Adam 12 or the mod squad or whatever, playing along with whatever I wanted to play.
I remember A&W when the waitresses came out to the cars and they were on roller skates. So fucking cool and only our thing.
I remember my first dog, a gift from you and one that served me well. I loved that mangy snaggle toothed animal like crazy. And even at that age I knew why you gave him to me and he did exactly what you wanted him to do.
I know leaving was the hardest thing you ever did, I know how hard you fought to take me with you and I watched as you broke when you thought you were out of the line of sight of the house.
I remember you rushing me to the hospital when one of my other idiot brothers convinced me I could fly off of the garage roof if I just flapped my arms hard enough and I remember the very first signature on the cast. It said “repeat after me, people cannot fly” and you ruffed my hair and you made me laugh even through the pain of another broken bone.
You were the best brother that ever lived Bobby, and you were gone way to soon but if you are now someone else out there maybe reading this, it is me your little blonde haired princess, your best girl, your little miss sunshine. I love you Bro, and where ever or who ever you are I hope you are the happiest person. And I will look for you forever.
Hello everyone. It is me, your dean of fuckery, Dr. of Doctoring, dog lactation expert, honorary DVM, newborn puppy resuscitation expert, horse whisperer (we will get to that) and Queen of all I survey.
I thought since it has been a while I would break my own rule and let you all know what has been going on with me in the great not so white north.
This has been a particularly bad year for me pain wise but it has also been the year of behold all the fucks I have to give. I decided that I am no longer being ruled by how much pain I am physically in. Just no longer going to happen. I decided that if I let physical pain dictate whether or not I am going to be able to do things, I might as well just as well ask to be put out of my misery now. Actually, funny story, I did but not for the physical pain reasons and my doctors all said they were conscientious objectors to assisted dying. Does anyone besides me find that strange.
Mentally, I think I am getting better. At least the blackness no longer lasts as long and I have been able to go out where there are people a bit more. I’ve had panic attacks a half dozen times. I had a very, very bad couple of days last week but again, behold all the fucks I have to give because eventually they went away and I came back out the other side.
I have started horse therapy. I used to be quite the equestrian. A million or so years ago. My invisible psychiatrist thought it was a wonderful idea and supports me whole heartedly. Mostly I am mucking stalls and washing horses. Since my Orthopod said riding ever again in this lifetime or any other was not going to be possible I was content with just being around them. Until I wasn’t. I just got it into my head one day that doctors can be wrong and next thing I knew I was cantering a big old mare named star around the arena. I felt like Leonardo Dicaprio on the front of the titanic yelling about being the king of the world. I rode for about 20 minutes or so and was on cloud nine for days. The owners have been very kind and allow me at the barn whenever I want. They don’t care if I want to roll up there at midnight if that is when I need to hang with the horses for a while. They have caught me with my head buried in a horses neck bawling my face off because I needed to do that and have been so kind about it all. Such nice people. Of course, I guess they get something out of it too. The horses help me, and I help the horses which helps them. Mrs. horse farm owner has offered to talk if I ever need to, yet understood that maybe me crying on a horse was better for me than all the talking in the world. They have even offered me a yearling and said they would allow me to make affordable payments on it if I wanted. I do, but I could never afford it and why do I need my own horse when I have a whole barn full of them at my disposal. I have stayed away from horses because I thought it would hurt me to much to be around them. I was so very wrong. Wrong on a magnificent scale.
My invisible Caucasian Shepherd is going to be the biggest dog I have ever had by far. He is now 14 weeks old and is as big as Starsky. I think he may have been exposed to radiation or something. I would not even be remotely surprised if he sprouted wings. I will repost the invisible picture in case you missed it.
My son turned 16 yesterday. He has already picked out the college he will be attending, continues to work hard at school and he makes me proud every day.
I have developed some very serious tendonitis in my elbows, or maybe they are finally just disintegrating. Whichever. I’ll find out in January. My invisible orthopod keeps bugging about replacing the knees, but I’ve been there and done that and have an awesome video so I’m good. I’ll put up with the pain like I said until I no longer can. I realize I sound flippant and I probably shouldn’t because that day is coming fast, but there are so many people in the world that are in such worse shape than me, who the fuck am I to complain. And more importantly, who wants to listen to me bitch. I even get sick of myself.
Dahlia Dipshit got a mistrial and so there is another trial coming up for her and since my new years resolution is to stop feeling sorry for myself and get on with it, I will be writing again.
This would normally be where I would probably apologize for my extended AWOLS but I can’t control depression or how long it lasts. That being said, I seem to be in a pretty good place mentally as far as the depression goes right now. So please do expect your resident sarcasm expert back in form in the new year.
I am hoping I get what I want for Christmas and the zombie apocalypse starts tomorrow or anytime before your president elect takes the oath of office. I actually hope Obama is the first one to get it and he bites Drumpf. Since the four horsemen of the apocalypse have already appeared and seem to have taken up residence at the white house, or are at least poised to, maybe my wish will come true. Just think what it would do for our overpopulation problem as well. If that actually happens I have a really good plan so just come here and we can all fight zombies together. It will be sick.
I miss all of you in case you were wondering. I hope each of you are thriving, or at least hanging in and counting on the fact that eventually it does get better. Something I would not have believed myself a year ago. But, it does.
Twister, thank you, you know why.
I’d like roll call please. We haven’t had one in a while so I want the whole shelter to sound off.
I love you all and I would not have made the progress I have without you. Take that to the bank.
I hope all of your Christmas’s or Hanukahs or whatever are exactly what you want them to be.
Expect me back soon.
From My Countrymen and I
RBMD peacing the fuck out.
Hello my lovelies. I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been busy trying to get a bunch of stuff done around the house. I’ve decided that it needs to be moved around, painted and I have to get rid of several tonnes of stuff because apparently I keep everything. I have boxes from video games I bought when I was like 30. Why? Because I might need it. I also have not been especially well, nothing to worry about, basically just trying to do to much to fast.
Lovely to see Casa Azul coming together so nicely. It was actually mama who motivated me to make some much needed changes to this place. I am taking a huge step and moving my bedroom downstairs where I am only behind one lock and I’m pretty fucking proud of myself.
That however, has nothing whatsoever to do with todays post. Today’s post is brought to you by the letters W E I S F U C K E D.
Whatever the fuck is in the water in Orlando, don’t let the army take it and weaponize it. I am so sorry for the victims of the shooting, their families, the officers that had to respond to that carnage and us. I am sorry for us.
Now why is a Canadian sorry for you all, being as you the greatest nation on the planet? Because you are like our big brother in a good way and you have been grievously injured which injures us too. Targeting the LGBT community is just so fucked up I can’t even.
I don’t care if you fuck women, men, blow up dolls, an apple pie, or your malamute as long as he or she is into it, it is flat out none of my business and that being said I probably don’t give it any thought Until something like this happens. Then I think about it a lot. And it makes me very angry.
Then you have Adolph Trump fanning the already huge flames about Muslims who are not are radical assholes and building a wall to keep out Mexicans and just arbitrarily deciding that immigration needs to stop. Never mind that his 14 year old wife is an immigrant. I guess the pretty ones will get a pass. Adolph Trump is a worry, just not even close to my biggest one.
What is it with you all and guns? How fucking many people have to be mowed down by crazy assed crazies before you all figure out that your right to bear arms flies in the face of the right to go to school and not get shot, or go to a club and not get shot, or go buy a pack of smokes and not get shot? I’m not talking about taking away your guns, but who the fuck needs military grade weapons for anything other than war? If you are hunting with one you are a coward and or a shitty shot and if not what the fuck are you doing with it? My question is this. What is the number of dead wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, children, pets etc that will make you say “you know what, we might have a problem here?” ten thousand? twenty thousand? I’m really curious about that.
Now we have this new lovely thing called Zika virus right where all are Olympic athletes are going to be and they have finally found the elusive super bug that not even our antibiotics of last resort will kill. Have I mentioned we are fucked. In case you missed it, we are fucked.
Up here in Canada land the Trial for the murder of Tim Bosma just finished with a verdict of guilty and two life sentences with parole eligibility after 25 years. Which in Canada means see ya in 25 years.
We got the right to die bill put through this week but just like I said when it was first discussed it is just a big pile of shit with a bow on top. The big contention was the wording of foreseeable death. Well, I have a shocker for all the big shot muckity mucks on the hill, EVERY DEATH IS FORSEEABLE. I’m pissed off because I have never believed that the government should have any say on when you as a person have decided that you want off this ride and want to punch your ticket. You shouldn’t have to blow you head off or whatever to do it. You should be able to have access to the drugs necessary to make the transition from life to death as easy and pain free as possible.
My plan should the time come is to find a dealer of Heroin since they must be out there somewhere, and I’m gonna ride me a dragon right into the sunset.
Oh yeah, I have decided that besides Queen of all I survey I have also crowned myself Queen of Scotland. Please don’t forget to curtsy.
Note to Pesky, one of your cousins keeps teasing my extremely large puppies and you might want to send him a letter or text or something that they do not appreciate his shenanigans and he looks mighty tasty.
I will be around sporadically, I’m just crazy busy right now.
RBMD peacing the fuck out.
The blog will be posted late tonight, I wanted to make sure I had all of the information and did my fact checking before simply posting wild speculation. Enough of that goes on on-line as it is. It is going to be very long. I’m sorry, but this is a very important trial and you will understand why when you read it.
It will be up as soon as I get it typed up and formatted.
Hello lovelies. Your Dean of Fuckery/Law Professor/Dr. of Doctoring, Honorary DVM, and Queen of all I survey has some news on a few things.
First, we are going to follow the James Vancallis Trial and then when the precious flower Dahlia’s trial comes up we will follow both. I will catch you up on the first trial over the next couple of days and once Dahlia’s trial starts you will get two blogs a day if the first Trial is not over.
I have also decided that it’s our blog and I don’t have to let anybody on it that we don’t want on it. I can’t stop people from reading it, but the ignorant comments that we get every now and then, I don’t have to post them and from now on I don’t intend to. I have decided that arguing on the internet is close to one of the largest wastes of time in in the history of ever. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but when that opinion cannot be given without acting like a petulant 6 year old, that makes petulant 6 year old the party in the wrong. Answering them or actually engaging in an argument is pretty much the definition of insanity. So, nasty comments will be removed and the sender will be marked as spam and that will be the end of that.
Our no kill shelter is supposed to be a place where we can share ideas and horse around and even if we disagree, do so in the manner that friends do and I intend for it to be that. Please weigh in if you agree that arguing with idiots is a waste of time. I want this place to be what it was meant to be. A place to share, and laugh, and get a virtual hug if you need one, and tell your stories when you are ready. Believe me, somebody else here, be it me or one of the others has been or is going through the same thing. I want us to hold each other up, and give each other a gentle nudge that putting anyone on blast on the internet is pretty much a waste of time. Me especially. I know I have a tendency to freak the fuck out when someone I care about is attacked, but I have come to the conclusion that this is exactly the response that is wanted and I don’t want to play anymore. So if I need a kick in the ass give me one please and let’s make our shelter the way it was. Lots of fun and lots of love.
I am saddened to say that here in Canada where these things are very, very few and far between we have had a school shooting in La Loche, Saskatchewan. A native reserve was the scene at a 900 student school that teaches children from kindergarten right up to grade 12 in two buildings. The shooter first killed both of his brothers before heading to school with a shot gun (a long gun that does a massive amount of damage) and proceeded to kill a teacher’s aide as well as a teacher. The aide died on the scene and the teacher died on route to the hospital. The shooter, who can’t be named under the youth criminal justice act (he is 17) has been charged with 4 counts of first degree murder and 7 counts of attempted murder. While we have had this happen a couple of times over the last 30 years, this does not happen with any type of frequency in Canada. I sincerely worry about the way the world is going.
Celebrities keep on dropping like flies. To add to Lemmy Killmister and David Bowie we now have lost Alan Rickman, Glenn Frey, David Margulies and Rene Angelil-(Celine Dion’s Husband.) Sorry, I can’t figure out how to put the French keyboard on so no accents. Alan Rickman was an absolutely brilliant actor who will forever be Severous Snape to me and Glenn Frey was one of the founding members of one of the best bands of all time, The Eagles. So, so much loss of extraordinary talent. So very sad.
Lastly, I have been asked to write a half hour cable show once a week on the topics of my choosing. Sort of a Daily Planet idea if you have ever seen that. I of course am not allowed to use my favorite word which bums me out a little but I will get over it. They have asked me to script 10 episodes and if they are well received I will do more. I can do it from home, which is awesome. It’s just a cable station so it is not a huge deal, but I do get writing credit and press credentials. I have not formally accepted yet, but my invisible psychiatrist thinks it would be good for me so, I am going to take the offer.
Once the first shows are done I will let you know what station and you can check it out. For obvious reasons, I won’t say right now.
That’s it for tonight
RBMD peacing the fuck out