...Because You're Wrong & I Hate You

Happy Friday!

Before I get into it, I'd like to point out that today is officially (probably not, but to me) National Adele Day! I'm currently blasting her new album, "25", on our soundbar. At 7:30am. I accept the flaming bag of shit on my porch when I get home. Totally worth it!

*tear* Brb guys...

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I love it.

Okay, so, all of you who have Facebook/Twitter/A phone with internet access know that the social media experts are out and packin' it heavy right now regarding Syrian refugees. In the wake of last Friday's Paris attacks, the arguments have been plentiful and - while not funny in what it's about - hilarious to watch. This leads me to my topic today... The different types of social media debaters we all come across.

Let that beat drop!

1) The Adam

This guy.

There are two subcategories of the Adam:
     a. The Adam who hates you because you actually are wrong and annoying, but he's lacking the intellectual capacity to take it with a grain of salt. Now, I'll admit, I've been an Adam before because, at that time, I actually thought people could see the light and we're just stubborn; but then I learned that they really do have their heads that far up their asses and I had no desire to help them find it, so now I know how to let it gooo, let it gooo! Now, I just ask the actual question at hand:

It tends to go over pretty well...

    b. The alternate Adam, this one, hates you because you're right, but they disagree with you, and like the dimwitted, fit-throwing adult child they are, they turn it into a "I will hold me breath and stomp my feet until I pass out flat on this filthy floor before I even give your argument - that happens to have a lot of factual backing - the time of day because you're wrong and I hate you" type of situation.

And I don't even know why, but I can't go back now. I'm too far committed...

So, let the fit commence...

2) The Bubba (I literally Googled "most redneck names" and this came up, so here we are)

The Bubba is the guy who, you're pretty sure, isn't even trying to sound literate:

What. Are. You. Saying?

This one, like, you know they've got an opinion in there somewhere - albeit an opinion warped by being 50 shades of out of touch with the almost 2016 universe - but you can't find it because you have no idea what the fuck they're saying...

Yeuh... I mean. the bombs and the chickens were screamin and I aint even got Ersela outta been in days. The goddamn liberals and that damn muslim obama, is why the tractor isn't working!

Uh...

Hahaha. I just... I don't know.

Okay, Bub... I hope you and your chickens catch a break with that damn tractor. Haha - I mean, obviously that's an extreme example, but you know who I'm talking about... And if you don't know who I'm talking about, you're that person and you need to read more books.
3) The Conspiracy Theorists

I know this is broad, so let's narrow it to one that's especially prevalent in today's social media lawyer's association: GODDAMNIT OBAMA! Your mere existence with no actual hand in the matter has caused everything! HOW DO YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT!?! Oh great, now my fingers hurt from typing so hard in my patriotic rage...

Asshole.

I mean, honestly though. The second I see "Obama" in anyone's "argument," they immediately lose my attention and respect. What if I told you one single man can't control the actions of billions of people? If you don't like him, that's fine; but to actually, publicly blame every single thing that happens, on him, is juvenile and makes you look like a fuck. Do some research and build basis for your argument; instead of copping out by blaming Obama and getting false reinforcement from your equally uneducated circle of people. Do we still talk about Bush started all of this shit? No. We don't. Because we are far beyond that and we understand that. But, in the mean time...

Not your God though... The one that like loves everyone and what not.

This leads me to my last type of debater... The one whom, while I respect their willingness to educate themselves, there is NO time or room for it on social media.

4) The Scholar

You know this person. The one who, after you type like a sentence or two, they come back with 12 paragraphs, pie graphs, and charts to prove why your opinion doesn't line up exactly with theirs... Like, whoa bro, that escalated quickly...

You're at a 27... I need you to come back to like, a 3.

Seriously though... Who has time for that!? Chill out - it's Facebook! Just take whatever you have in your noggin at the time, crunch it into an acceptable length of text, and send it into the abyss. I stop reading after line 4, just a heads up. I got shit to get done.

So, yeah. At least, those are the types that I've come across. I could go on and on, and into more detail, but I have to go to work and stack dat papah.

Later boners!

Okay, not really, but I gotta pay bills. Bye y'all - have a great Friday! Until next time, Witte out.

The Day After...

Hey everyone...

In light of the attacks in Paris yesterday, I'd hope to nobody's surprise, today's blog will be lacking it's usual humor and sarcasm. There's nothing humorous or sarcastic about a group of individuals with hearts full of hate, and minds full of weakness, attacking and killing at least 120 people, while injuring many, many more. Yesterday, I found tears in my eyes while I continued to receive updates on the horror taking place in a city that emanates love; today, I feel the hangover. My heart feels heavy, my body is tense, and my empathy for the loss of life and the loss of joy is digging a hole in me.

However, in the midst of the sadness, I find that not all share those feelings. They are not mourning for the violent loss of innocent human lives, they are not mourning for the shattering of a beautiful city by the detonation of explosives, and they are not mourning for those who had to wake up today with their loved ones not next to them. No. They are perpetuating the same hate that drove this Islamic group to commit this horrific act by spewing it at the Muslim culture as a whole, and at the refugees who are trying to escape this exact violence.

I invite those people to put yourselves in the shoes of those you are condemning as a result of the actions of a microcosm of their population. Imagine, just for a day, that you were in a new place, finally free from the sound of gunfire, the stain of blood, and the images of violence - you finally made it to a place where you are safe. Yet, once you're awoken from your daydream of solace, you find that people look at you in a certain way. You no longer see a gaze of welcome, with hands out full of offerings. No, that's gone because an extremist group of people who look like you, who don't have strength in their souls or the love in their hearts to be good, committed a horrendous act against humanity. So, as a result, you are now seen as a terrorist. People who once came to you with open arms, now turn their shoulders, only to glance over with fear, with hatred. Not because they are mad at you, but because you look like someone that they are mad at. Now, you're in a new hell, where you are the enemy.

Imagine that, just for a moment, and then rethink the circulation of hate that you are giving life to. I know it's hard to do because we, in these richer nations - namely the United States - cannot imagine a world where we go to sleep, not to the sound of our televisions or to the sound box that takes you to the forest, but to the sound of gunfire. Of explosions. Of your home being burnt to the ground around you while you just wait to be next. Instead, we wake up in our cozy beds, drive to Starbucks, and get mad about a cup not having snowflakes on it. It's time to reflect on ourselves, and take a moment to step outside of ourselves to truly feel compassion for all who were and will continue to be affected by this. We are all humans, we are all sad, we are all angry, and we are all hurt; but that sadness, anger, and that hurt needs to be directed at the group who did this, not at the people who were unfortunate enough to live in the same geographical location as that group.

Further, I find that the gun argument is getting some light. Either "they wouldn't have died if they all had just been strapped," or "this is more proof that we need stricter gun laws." Both of those are asinine and have no place in this discussion. Save that for your Facebook quarrels. Guns weren't the weapon in these attacks - hatred was the weapon. Weak minds were the weapon. Guns and explosives were the means by which those weapons were able to operate. So, before you continue to use this tragedy as a stage for your own personal opinions on political topics, remember that. Step back for a second and acknowledge the fucking tragedy that has taken place. Can we, for one day, forget politics, forget conflicts, and just mourn together as humans while we try to understand why this happened to our people and what we can do to ensure that it doesn't happen again.

In the end, what I saw was taxi drivers taking people home for free; hashtags being spread like wildfire on Twitter offering safe places to stay for those unable to find one; police officers storming into the concert hall knowing that there were gunmen on the other side of the door, armed and willing to take their lives, but without hesitation to save the people they've been employed to protect; national monuments around the world lighting up in blue, white and red in support of France; volunteers lining up to donate blood for those injured in the attacks; and complete strangers crying because of the tragedy that had taken place on Earth's soil. That's what I saw. I saw love, and it was and continues to be beautiful. That group - who, if you haven't noticed, I refuse to call by name - will not win if we continue to try a little bit harder every day to love the person next to us. Whether it's your spouse, your kids, your friends, or a complete stranger, this world needs more love to cover up the despicable hate that's bringing us all to our knees.

All I know is that when my girlfriend got home last night, I held her for a little bit longer with a grateful and thankful sense that I was able to; yet with a sting of sadness for those who would never be able to hold their loved ones again. Love each other. It will heal us, and maybe 20 years from now we'll be able to explain to our kids how we lived on such a violent planet, but moreover, how we pulled ourselves out of it by loving one another. I hope everyone has a humble Saturday. I love you all.

Peace to Paris - we all stand with you while we grieve.

HELLO, IT'S ME!

YOU GUYS!

Oh my gosh... It's been so long since I've been here! How's everyone? Are the kids all grown up? Did little Bobby ever make it to the pros? Aw, that's great to hear!

Alright, now that we've all caught up and things are great,

And defeat those Huns! (If you aren't aware of what this is, you may exit stage left now.)

Okay, so this blog doesn't have a specific theme since I've been a lazy ass, albeit a busy one, and haven't taken time to spit some truth at y'all in a while! So, here we go, on this wheel of random wonder...

First topic at hand is when someone hates you in the way that the world hates Hitler and you can't, for the life of you, figure out why. Backstory: I started this new job at a small law firm at the end of August. When I say "small," I mean there are four (4) (<-- that's a legal form thing, look at me go) of us. There are two attorneys, who are cool... But then there's this female. I know, that explains it all; why go on, right? WRONG! I imagine if she were to meet the aforementioned, universally hated man, she'd probably be nicer to him than she is to me. I can't figure out why this is, which leads me to the meat of the topic... Speculation! Yay!

Here are a few theories as to how and/or why someone dislikes you and you can't figure out why:

1) Your mere presence annoys them to the point of hatred. In which case,

You can't change that... BABY YOU WAS BORN THAT WAY!

2) You've said something, in the presumably short number of words you've said to them as a result of their spewing dislike toward you, that has offended them. In which case,

Toughen up soldier! All I did was ask if you wanted a coffee. Myyy Baddd!

3) They're jealous of you for some reason unbeknownst to you. I mean, granted, you know you fly like Queen B, but shoot, why you gotta hate on my shine? In which case,

NO, I'm not! Why, you ask? Well...

Haha, I'm kidding... Kind of... I mean, unless you're not...

But really, if it's jealousy then swerve sista, and get in your lane! I thought we all learned this in high school, but I guess mine was on a different planet...

Stand together ladies! Don't bring each other down!

Okay, enough on that. Let's talk about the big red cup in the room. Yes, the CUP that has been generating all of this drama (re-read that sentence just to make sure we're all equally humored by how ridiculous this is)...

These... These are the culprits. You little fuckers. How dare you be so bare.

And Starbucks' statement on their reasoning behind removing the snowflakes or whatever other bullshit was on their bullshit overpriced cup of Joe by saying that they "wanted to usher in the holidays with a purity of design that welcomes all of our stories."

Um...

Ain't nobody got time or room in their heart for stories and cultures and integration and shit. Get outta here.

I don't know about you guys, but I am blasphefied (just go with it)! Why? Because there is absolutely nothing else going on in this world worse than Starbucks taking an espresso shot at Jesus by redesigning their cups to remove symbols of a holiday inspired by Him and catered to Christianity, but taken over by a fictional character who contributes to the greed of materialism. I know that Jesus would not try to be Starbucks' homeboy, that's fosho... Nothing else. Anywhere. Going on.

God Bless Him... Or Him Bless Him? I don't know, whatever, he's right.

I mean, truthfully, get a hobby if you're seriously offended by a cup. You know what offends me? A little 19-year old fucker at Mizzou threatening to "shoot every black person [he] sees." That shit offends me. You know what else offends me? All of the death and destruction going on in the Middle East that no one seems to want to talk about because we're safe over here in the states where the worst thing happening, apparently, is a venti sized attack on Christians. That offends me. As a human being, those things offend me. If you're standing in line at Starbucks for a coffee, something tells me someone else is having a harder day than you. All of the people complaining that this world is too politically correct these days are the ones are who are offended by a cup, and other things of the like. Basically...

Even Snooki knows.

So yeah, that is my welcome back blog. I had to do if kind of fast because I'm currently late for work... But I missed you guy so sacrifices must be made! On that note, I gotsta go! I love you all and have a great Thursday! Until next time, Witte out!

It's In The Thing!

Hola!

I feel like this isn't even my blog anymore for how long I've been absent. I'm so sorry, dear followers (that's sounds a little cultish... "Readers?"), I started a new job at a law firm on Monday and then our pup pup got snip snipped on Thursday, so this week has been a doozy! Alas, I've had time to comb through the fuckery that happens in our country to find myself some material for my long awaited (I know you were like "dude, why isn't Courtney writing? I mean, it's been like 167 hours since her last post, what's the deal?") return. It wasn't very difficult to find, being that our current state of being in society is filled with wondrous bullshit and ridiculousness. Drum roll, please...

........

This bitch right here... Got me shaking my goddamn head.

That woman up there, as some of you may know, is Kim Davis. Who is she, you ask? Well, she looks like your average, bigoted religious crazy... And that's exactly what she is. Specifically, she is the Rowan County clerk in Kentucky; and she is refusing to not only issue gay marriage licenses herself, but also demanding her staff do the same. Now, why would someone possibly refuse to do the job that they were elected (yeah, like people actually took the time to choose her) to do? I mean, what could possibly drive someone to sacrifice their well-paying job for some silly reason?

Oh, wait, really? Yep, you guessed it - Religion. She is refusing to do her job because it goes against her religious beliefs. Here we go. I get so excited when religious bigots force their beliefs on others, while in the same breath claim that homosexuality is being forced on them.

Please, be gentle.

Let's look into this further. Now, certainly, this isn't the first person that's taking the outrageous SCOTUS ruling making equality the law of the land as a personal attack on them and their outdated beliefs. However, this particular woman, is taking it so far that she's currently being held in the county jail for contempt of court as a result of not doing her job, as it goes against her religious beliefs. Wow - she must be really committed to the Bible and all it directs her to do.

So, who is Kim Davis, and how is she a devote follower of Jesus and the word of God? In the spirit of school being back in session, let's generate a little report card.

Class #1 - Divorce

1 Corinthians 7:10-11: To the married I give this charge (not I, but the Lord): the wife should not separate from her husband (but if she does, she should remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband), and the husband should not divorce his wife.

In laments terms, don't get divorced; and if you do, don't remarry, only reconcile with the husband. How did Mrs. Davis do on this? Well, let's see, my Twitter and Google fingers have led me to the following fact: Mrs. Davis, the devote follower of the Lord who is refusing to issue gay marriage licenses because the Bible says that homosexuality is a sin, has been divorced not once, not twice, but three times. Now, I wasn't there, I don't know why she couldn't manage to keep three men. It's not my business. However, it becomes my business, as a member of the LGBT community, when this imbecile is telling me that I can't get married to one person, one time when, now on her fourth marriage, she's been married four times. Get the fuck outta here, and get back in your lane. I think the grade is pretty clear on this one:

I'm not even sure you really tried, therefore, F- on divorce.

Class #2: Clothing

Deuteronomy 22:11: Thou shalt not wear a garment of divers sorts, [as] of woolen and linen together.

Okay, simple enough, don't mix clothing types. Now, I admittedly and proudly defy this rule on a daily basis. It's a stupid rule, as most things are in the Bible, which is why 99.999999% of people don't follow every single rule in the scripture. Looks like little Mrs. Davis doesn't like that rule either:

I'm not a fashion extraordinaire, but methinks those are metal rings on a some sort of cloth-made shirt.

Seems petty, but if you want to play the Bible game, let's play. I don't know cloths very well because I don't really care as long as it looks fly; but, I'm pretty sure metal isn't the same as cotton or whatever her shirt is, let alone a cloth at all. I'm also pretty sure the book makes it clear that your clothing needs to be made of one single material. Bottom line. And for the reason:

For the pettiness, I'll bump you up one grade - You get a D on clothing.

Okay, Class #3: Money

Ecclesiastes 5:10 Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless.

Mrs. Davis, according to her Wikipedia page (which is never a valid source in academia, but I'm not in grad school anymore fuckers, so I'm using it), had a salary of $51,812 with overtime/miscellaneous compensation of $11, 301 in 2011. This equates to an overall income of $63,113 for Mrs. Davis in 2011. Wowza... I mean, I don't know about you, but that is a solid chunk of change for a simple woman of God. And, not only was she making more than any neighboring clerk and kept it that way until the County Fiscal Court cut the court's salary budget by one-third in 2012 after residents complained about her salary, but she wasn't satisfied with that salary and put in overtime to earn even more.

The passage up there says that's a no-no. That money and wealth are meaningless. Well, apparently not to Mrs. Davis, who worked extra hours to increase her wealth. For that reason:

While I understand you need to make money to live, you made an excessive amount on purpose, as I assure you don't need $63,113 to live in Kentucky. With that said, you get a D; or should I say the D since you like getting married to different men so much.

Overall, I'd say she's failing in the Bible department. Before you use the Bible to spew hate toward people you don't even know, make sure you're following it as well. Here's my point in words that you, Mrs. Davis and supporters, can understand:

1 John 4:20: If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.

Matthew 7:1-5: “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you."

1 John 2:9: Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness.

Basically, you're just an asshole by ignoring the passages that say love all, and paying attention only to the ones that supplement your discriminatory beliefs. When it comes down to it...

Truer, albeit harsh, words have never been spoken.

Astoundingly, supporters of hers are saying that she's being persecuted/prosecuted for exercising her religious beliefs. No. She's not. She's being prosecuted because she's abusing her authority as a relatively high ranking government official by forcing her religious beliefs on others in the form of denying gay marriage licenses out of her office. It's one thing if she herself doesn't want to give them out, but to demand her staff do the same is contempt and that's breaking the law. Read a fucking book before you open your mouth.

As a final blow, she is registered as a Democrat. You, ma'am, do not represent what the Democratic Party represents. We do not hate people for their life choices. We do not condemn them and discriminate against them because they live differently than us. We are, regardless of whether or not we claim any religion, better "Christians" than those who pronounce themselves as such. Feel free, when you get out of jail, to register yourself in the proper party. 

We done wit chu.

Whew. I'm a little heated, so, in closing...

While my other hand holds an egregious sized bottle of wine to wash down your idiosyncratic theology, that falsely, inaccurately and inconsistently cites the Bible.

I have no problem with religion or religious people. I know very many wonderful, beautiful souls who are religious; and I love them dearly. However, those who are cherry picking the Bible to exercise your hateful beliefs, check yourself. While we all want this, we can't all have this.

NO! You have to eat the bullshit brown ones too. You get all or nothing.

That's all I got for this woman today. I'll leave with this quote, which I like and deem to be relevant:

Religion is the rules, regulations, ceremonies and rituals developed by man to create conformity and uniformity in the approach to God. Spirituality is God's call in your soul. - Iyanla Vanzant

Until next time, Witte out!

Only Fools Rush In

Hey Guys!

I know it's been a while since I've written, but it's been a hell of a week trying to train the puppy. Luckily, my efforts and frustrations have not been in vain as she's picking it up quite quickly! Thank you, thank you, save the applause. Anywho, happy Sunday! Today, I'm feeling inspired to write about something I think we all, or at least most of us, can relate to... And that is...

DRUM ROLL PLEEEAAASE!!

... Falling in love! Yep, I'm taking Cupid head on. Now, falling in love, that is something little ol' me never even entertained the idea of. I was not a one person girl. Quite frankly, I was an asshole before Cupid shot that shit straight at my heart. I'd hang out with you a few times, then jet and completely vanish once I got bored. I swore off monogamy and marriage entirely. I was going to be a bridesmaid, never a bride, forever; and I was wholeheartedly okay with that.

Precisely.

 *Disclaimer: I'm going to be using my personal experience with this matter as a base for my perception of it.*

This was until I created an account for Twitter. Yes, Twitter.

So, you know that commercial that’s like “first doesn’t come love, first comes like” or some generic bullshit like that? While I scuff at the horrendously corny way they said it, the meaning of the message is true. When I first “met” mine, she followed me on Twitter. Now, at this time, I was new to this “Twitter” phenomenon, so I enlisted the help from my trusted little brother, who was in the know, to teach me about this; and more importantly, as I would come to learn, to figure out how to navigate to this pretty stranger’s page. As the avid student I am, I’ll say I got this Twitter thing down pretty quickly, so no sooner than this person following me, was I navigating her page and learned that she was a rapper and a “vlogger” (I still make the mistake of calling is “video blogging.” Oh, no, it’s “vlogging;” don’t get it twisted.).

Whilst utilizing my newly acquired Twitter skills, I was able to open one of her vlogs. This, there was no coming back from this. I watched it, and felt a tinge of something. I wasn't sure what this unfamiliar feeling was, so as a woman who had been with men my whole life, I brushed it off as mere friendly admiration. But then I found myself continuously returning to her... And responding to mostly everything she posted just to get a response from her... And then that thing happened again...

What is this sorcery happening in my chest?

I kept it light, and even (as she claims), "friend-zoned" her when she sent me a message in August telling me that I was beautiful. Between then and the fruition of our admiration, we were both dating (loose term) people, so the conversations were minimal; despite my burning allure toward her and the want for her attention. But I realized that I liked her. Not in the "oh, she's cool and probably fun to hang out with" kind of like-y way. No. In the "I hate that she's dating someone... How would I even go about this?" kind of like-y way. That's top 4 worst parts of the falling in love process - that initial hope that this person that you're developing a liking toward is even available for the... Taking? I don't know, but you know what I mean. By December, we'd both become single; and I wasted no time.

I didn't even try to act cool about it.

Well, actually, I gave her my number and totally lied saying I had to get off Facebook messenger, but could text. Mind you, she had 22,000+ followers on this Twitter machine, so the chances of really standing out were slim. It's interesting how that happens though, huh? You like someone, and all your coolness and swag and suaveness is gone. Poof. Later gator. And you become, for the lack of a better word, a chump, because you want this person. Bad.

So, so real.

So, after I tried to slyly get her to text me, I was sitting in a chair getting tattooed. As I can only imagine, part of the tattoo cost has to be a therapist interest, because my tattoo artist (luh you Jasmine) had the pleasure of being the first person I spilled my guts to about this girl. I had to tell someone and get it out of me! Anyways, I'm getting tattooed and my phone buzzes. I look at it and it's a number I don't recognize. Hm, 602 area code... Where the heck is that *clickity click on through Google to find out* Oh, Phoenix. Wait, hot Twitter girl lives in Phoenix. Ah yisss! Act cool Courtney, c'mon, keep it together!*

(602) 555-5555: Omg, your tattoo is turning out awesome!
Me: Hey girl, thanks :)
*Acting cool as a cucumber.*
(602) 555-5555: We'll have to get together when you're done!
*Hm, Phoenix is a bit far for a quick get together...*
Me: Totally! I'm sorry, I lost all my contacts (another lie), who's this?
*Not hot girl from Twitter - Friend of a friend. Damnit.*

Okay... She's acting a bit hard to get. Guys typically jump on that shit real quick. This is new.

I was legitimately confused. Like, you know during those first stages of like, you don't do something unless you're feelin' yourself and feeling confident that whatever you're doing is going to pay off. So, I gave her my number with the confidence that I was that awesome to talk to, that she'd surely jump at the opportunity to continue this conversation. No. Not the case.

I thought she recognized that, but I guess not.

So, now I'm salty because I put myself out there, only to be like...

Well, fuck me.

And no, ooh no, I was not going to reach out again. Nope. No messages, no favorites, no likes, no retweets - NOTHING! If she wants to talk to me, she can talk to me; this is a two-way thing sister. I did my part. Then you're trying to act hard, like "fuck that girl then, whatever;" when really, you're checking your phone incessantly, hoping to see an unknown number pop up. Pride and hope are two very conflicting feelings when it comes to liking someone.

Days pass... I stay strong. Do I continue to creep her page? Obviously. I can't miss something cute or funny. But I don't say anything because I'm not about to be thirsty and shut down again. Then on like the fourth day of nothing, my phone buzzes. I've long since lost hope so I don't really jump, but I'm still curious. *(623) 555-5555 ... Clickity clicking again. And it's Phoenix, again.*  I mean, once from Phoenix is one thing, but twice? This must be her.

(623) 555-5555: Hey it's Emily
Me: Oh, there you are :)

At this point, I'm staying cool by remembering that I'm still a little peeved that she took so long. I tried, but it doesn't last long; because that feeling that I had months ago is back, amplified with a vengeance. Finally! Finally that person you like gives you the time necessary to show them how much they should want you back. It is a glorious time in the falling in love process because it's your time to shine.

I got this. My time to shine!

Fast forward a few days:

(623) 555-5555: I think I have a crush on you
Me: I think it might be mutual

Yes! You did it! You broke through this seemingly impenetrable front this girl had put up, and got her! Out of 22,000 Twitter followers and the unquestionably endless real life options, she wants you. You thought you were feelin' yourself before? Oh no, that was nothing. Now you're like, ayeee...

Go girl, go on and brush yo' shoulders off.

I was falling fast from like to full on live (in between like and love... I read it in a book). It wasn't long before I purchased a flight to Phoenix to meet her. Yes, meet her. I had done some daring, arguably stupid shit in my life, but spending over $200 to meet someone and be stuck with them for 3 days, regardless of how the chemistry worked out, was high on that list.

A few weeks later, I'm walking toward baggage claim, where she's waiting, and I'm quite literally quivering with anxiety. Am I getting Catfished? Do I hug her? What if she doesn't like what she sees and she's just being polite? Oh god, I'm getting closer, holy shit!

Where you at EMT? Heart palpitations are happening!

... Then I saw her. God, she was even more beautiful in person. I didn't even know what to do but to awkward wave, like an idiot. She went to kiss me, but as a (former, now) opponent of PDA, I turn away (well, that, and I didn't know how being with a girl worked.). It's so stressful anticipating that first kiss. We all know, you can have awesome conversation with someone, totally hit it off, think they're all that and a bag of chips - the whole nine yards. But that can be quickly crashed and burned by a missed physical connection... That starts with the kiss.

Alright. Here we go. We're in the elevator and she's getting close. Okay, you can do this Courtney. You've done it before, it's the same thing... Except way better. Holy hell. That spark thing that people talk about, it's real. I look at her perplexed because I think my live is making a sharp turn to something way more real...

Seriously, it was. And it didn't crash and burn. Win.

We carried on to have a wonderful weekend, at the end of which I cried the entire flight home. I literally felt like I was being ripped from her, and I wasn't ready. Why wasn't I ready? Because I was in love. I was in love with her. I fell. The thing you never think would happen because there can't possibly be life after bars and one night stands (not me, never...). But it happened. Cupid, you little shit, you got me.

It's a fun ride though, falling in love. It's challenging, but fun. Now, almost two years later, I can't believe that I hang out with the same person every day. I never, ever expected this to be my life. But it is, and I love it. So, that's my experience with and perception of falling in love. I know it's a long one, but hopefully it was at least mildly relate-able / entertaining. However, my stomach is attempting to eat itself, so I have to go. I hope everyone has an awesome Sunday! Until next time, Witte out.

She Called The Shit "Poop"

Howdy!

Happy Sunday everyone! It's a calm one over here... Specifically, by "calm" I mean I'm being held hostage by an overactive puppy bladder/asshole. As most of you know, me and mine got a puppy this week - on Wednesday.

Photogenic little thing, eh?

Contrary to our parents' advice, we did it anyway. We knew it was a big commitment that would require a lot of time and effort, blah blee blah, yeah yeah. I mean, she's cute and all, but Jesus H. Christ...

I don't understand where it's all coming from! WHERE ARE YOU STORING ALL OF THIS?!?

It's amazing how your senses become heightened after you become responsible for a thing that actually needs you to take care of it (unlike the cat because he's independent and makes his own cheese and all that jazz. Way to go kid.)... Like we'll just be sitting there talking or something, then our nose and ears perk up. Oh god... No, no, no... I smell it...

It happened. It's done. It's there.

The Lord haventh tested me until now. I knew not what a true test of keeping your shit together in the midst of building anger was... Until I got a puppy. I have to admit though, she has hit her mark - the potty pads - twice. I'll give credit where credit is due, and for an 8 monther who previously had no inside potty training, that's not too shabby.

On another note, many have inquired about how our beloved Bentley - a self-proclaimed, unquestionable asshole of a feline - responded. Well, we'll be honest, we were ready for shit to hit the fannn... Oh man. We slowly introduced them, ready for claws to come out, blood to be shed, dignity to be lost, and lives to be put in danger (ours, not theirs). We took a deep breath and just went for it. We're basically just like fuck it, if he kills us in our sleep then that was our fate. Alright cat, be free. Here we go...

It's finna get 50 shades of real up in this bitch.

Okay... Bentley is approaching the mysterious subject slowly, cautiously, yet curiously. He throw a paw up like come at me bro, I dare you; but doesn't swing. Just making sure the new one knows who's boss. He's getting closer, still weary, when the dog starts growling. Our self-proclaimed, unquestionable asshole of a cat is getting growled at by a little 8 month old collie. Ayee, this collie has balls - or, well, ovaries... For now, until her snip snip happens (shh, don't tell her). However, this growl has green lighted Bent's paw into forward motion, slapping the shit out of the dog, like...

You better get to know your place, and quick.

One would think that this little itty (she's actually not that small) puppy would be like wow bro, my bad! But no. Oh no, she growls again (rest assured that we reprimanded her after these growls so that she knows that they won't be tolerated because Bentley was here first). She's basically like:

It's a bold strategy, Cotton. Let's see if it pays off for her.

At this point, Emily and I are just sitting back like, holy...

*Feel our arms, look around* Okay, everyone's still alive. This is going rather well... For now.

After a few more moments of introduction, they're off to the races. The new kid on the block is hot on Bent's trail while Bent runs more in the next 10 minutes then he has in his entire life. At this point, we've let go and let Jesus take the wheel. The kids come into the living room, and to the utmost surprise and holy shit-ness, Bentley is on his back letting Riley play with him. They haven't gotten into a single fight, and they follow each other everywhere. I imagine something like this took place in animal language:

That's right kids, you go and get along!

Meanwhile, the wife and I are proud of ourselves and our cat and are happy campers now that there's no bloodshed. Great job, team!

Atta boy!

Now, to focus on potty training. I've never been so happy to see shit and piss on a concentrated area. I hope, a wish of all wishes, that I'll be able to experience that happiness on a more consistent basis in the near future. Until then, we sit and wait...

Ready to git her done. Bring it.

So, yeah... That's been our experience ~5 days into parenting. It's been stressful and smelly, but she's a good puppy so it's worth it. Safe to say we will not be doing this again any time soon. And don't even get me started on having real kids. HA! Well, I gotta go monitor the shit machine. I hope everyone has a rad rest of your day! Until next time, Witte out!