sarc.

I’m Ruth. A self deprecating 32 year old woman with the body of a hot 22 year old attached to my fridge for constant berating motivation. I have successfully competed and won medals in the sexual Olympics 4 times and my trophies range in ages from my 12 year old son to my 6 year old daughter who has been confirmed as containing 97% of my DNA just by the things that come out of her mouth. I call myself a writer, but I also called myself Saffron Morgan for a 3 week period in 6th grade so one cannot really assess how accurate that depiction might be. I scored a perfect 3600 on my EATS, which means I can gain a pound in a day if I put my mind to it which is a topic I discuss heavily on this platform. I’ve been featured on the Ellen show once, Re-tweeted by a dude in Las Vegas who said HAHAHA, and my picture is on the hostess stand of the local Mexican restaurant as a frequent customer who is no longer allowed to write checks. I love to run and have done so from all of my problems for the past 13 years and have managed to complete 3 half marathons and a whole one where I sneezed out a tampon and didn’t break my stride. This will be on my tombstone. I’m unemployed but I hold a bachelors degree in something I could have learned on YouTube and took out student loans to obtain for thousands of dollars off the internet. When I was 17 I was my most successful as a nursing student/Paramedic who drove an ambulance like the ones you typically see sitting in the Wendy’s and Taco Bell parking lots. After getting knocked up in a barracks room at the age of 18 I dropped out of college and have pretty much given up on everything except the Monopoly game at McDonalds. I’ve never been called pretty or successful but I do get called frequently by Bill Collectors and asked for information about my hot single friends. I’m fun at parties and my tolerance for vodka far exceeds my tolerance for people in general. I love shoes, Supernatural, Gingers, Music, Vodka, Happy Endings, (may you RIP) my kids, make up, running, stuff crust pizzas, cross fit (I cross my fingers every time I try to fit into my jeans) writing, laughing, it’s Britney Bitch, high heels that also double as weapons, and long walks from the parking lot to the inside of most restaurant and fast food establishments. I re-blog some, I write some, I post my filtered face some, my photography some, the ins and outs of being in a place without an In N Out, and occasionally quotes from some of the most noble men the world has ever known (characters from the aforementioned CW show, Supernatural). You might say I’m crazy, I might say you’re right, but chances are my music is too loud to give a fuck what you’re saying. If you vote for me I promise to have all the tampon machines turned into doobie dispensers and petition for individual alcohol bottles in the vending machines. Thank you.

I heard the sound of rain outside and ran to make sure the windows of the car were rolled up.

I wish I had checked the windows of myself before I let the rain of other people in.

fraekthemighty:

Feign brave with steel intent,
Little and hardly here.
Day one, day one, start over again,
Step one, step one, with not much making sense
Just yet I’m faking it ‘til I’m pseudo-making it,
from scratch begin again, this time I as I and 
Not as We.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony

—Tha Crossroads

ibumpislap:

Bone Thugs ‘n’ Harmony - Tha Crossroads

(via iamecal)

This house is a prison on planet bullshit!

1. I offered to do some freelance editing and fixing of writing samples today to cure boredom and because I love to do shit for free for people I barely tolerate and had I been using a red pen I would have needed 6. I probably should have just told them to turn it in and see what happens.

2. Someone once asked me if I work out because they never see me post photos of it, I should have said I also have sex, diddle my own twat, change my tampons, dance to Britney Spears, and grocery shop there’s no photos of that either. I guess I don’t have anything to prove.

3. I bought an at home marijuana test at the dollar tree today and took it and sad news it couldn’t find any marijuana in my house either:(

4. I used to worry about the day I gained employment and the first time they google me and find pictures of my ample bosoms but I realize now it’s just going to save me the effort of having to send all the coworkers photos of them later on.

5. I often think back to my time in the Air Force and how great I felt giving so freely of my talents to those who were in need and then I realize I’m talking about all the blow jobs I gave to Airmen in the back of their financed at 55% interest rate cars and I think I’m okay just being a mom while it’s required of me and when I can do more I will.

For now I will blog honorably from the couch and be grateful for the gift of self tanner which makes me look a few pounds thinner if I do say so myself.

Back to House MD.

Could I beeeee wearing any more clothes?

1. All I have discovered from watching House is that I need all of the business lady clothes for when I continue being a non business lady. Not now mom. I’m watching the thing. With the lady.

2. Easter is my leaster favorite holiday having children. 2 pounds of eggs, chocolate rabbits, peeps in shapes of baby animals. None of it sits well with me. Except those peanut butter eggs. I can’t buy them or my spanx wouldn’t even fit to help me fit into my pants that don’t fit. Busting out the maternity wear. viva la peanut butter cups.

3. I need one of those strappy bras that has cool lines all over and draws your eye towards my bosoms when I wear it. Of course I could just walk around topless that would raise some eyebrows. No penises though. Sadface.

4. I have no desire to cook dinner and no desire to eat garbage food so if you want to come over and cook the chicken or the turkey in my fridge the combination to my locker is 69 69 69. I mean it would be if I had a locker.

5. Does anybody want a teenage son. He can reach stuff on the top shelf and he likes to play Xbox so maybe one of you gamer types would like to take him in and teach him the ropes of manual labor or just keep him until he’s 18 then send him on his was with a Subway gift card and a Benjanin Bill.

6. This place is uber religious and it usually just irks me but the fact my kids don’t have tomorrow off school for Good TGIF where we get to go to TGIF and not wake up early makes me want to protest. Not like I can’t just go back to sleep if I want since I asked off work for 4000 days in a row. That’s 13 years for those of you just joining us. I hope HR approves the next 300 days I asked off.

Praise it, Blaze it, just don’t ask me to give birth and raise it. 420

You know, funny story: There’s this craft store called Michaels. Look, my sister knits, and she goes to Michaels. So my sister called me and she’s like, “Oh my god, I’m at Michaels, picking up yarn. You have a poster at Michaels.” I’m like, “What?” She’s like, “There’s a poster, there’s a Falcon poster at Michaels.” I’m like, “Holy s**t!” She’s like, “I’m gonna come and pick you up, and we’re gonna see your poster in this store.” So she picks me up and we go to Michaels.

We go in, and I see the poster and I’m like, “Oh, this is….” She’s like, “I know, I know.” I said, “I’m gonna sign these posters.” I was like, “That would be amazing, you buy a poster and it’s like, actually signed by the Falcon.” Like, it would blow my mind. So I go to the front, I buy a Sharpie, I run back to the back of the store. And she’s like, “I’m gonna take a picture of you signing it.”

I’m in this store and I’m signing all the posters. The manager comes out, he’s like, “Hey, whatcha doing?” I was like, “Oh man, I’m signing these posters so when people buy ‘em, they’re signed.” He’s like, “Well, people are not gonna buy ‘em if they’re signed.” And I was like, “No, no, no, it’s cool. I’m pretty sure there won’t be a problem.” And he goes, “Yeah, but it is gonna be a problem, you’re messin’ up my inventory.” And I’m like, “No, my man, trust me. I mean, I’m the Falcon, that’s me!” And he goes, “Yeah, right. You’re gonna buy those posters.” I said, “What?” He’s like, “You’re gonna buy all those posters or I’m gonna call the police.”

He rolls up all the posters and goes to the front of the store. And I had to buy like 60 Falcon posters that I signed in Michaels.

—Anthony Mackie getting in trouble for signing his posters at a Micheals  (x)

(Source: fwips, via runeybadger)

My Macbook charger broke tonight and I’m at 15% battery life.

Until I return, please remember I love you all, Lost had a completely unbelievable series finale, I don’t look anything like my selfies and chicken nuggets are only one Weight Watchers point a piece. 

I bid you all adieu. 

(Waves goodbye wearing clothes made of curtains).

Occasionally I look back at the people I’ve unfollowed over the years whatever the reason may have been at the time, to see how they fared with their delusions of grandeur and it takes all of 12 seconds perusing their equally boring and impotent attempts at proving to the internet how far they surpass everyone else to see they are exactly the same insufferable members of the elitist twat team that they were when I abandoned their asses like the 8th season of Dexter. 

To quote my current favorite Disney character: Let it Go. 

Dear Ruth.

I see this going around and I’m going to do all of them because I can.

Dear person I hate: You live across the street from me.

Dear person I like: Trick question. I like nobody. 

Dear ex boyfriend: You cheated on me. I’ve seen you on Facebook. I won. Oh. Did I ever win,

Dear ex girlfriend: Why did you have to let jealousy ruin what we had? I know. I want to be me too. 

Dear ex bestfriend: I still have the photos you took of me and all the memories we shared. You still have your shitty excuses as to why you left.

Dear bestfriend: Get in muh belly. This is obviously to vodka. 

Dear Santa: Don’t make the mistake of giving my kids expensive presents after the age of 6. They remember that shit. 

Dear mom: I still miss you every day. If you can see me, I’m sorry to disappoint. 

Dear dad: Thanks for always telling me how proud I make you. I don’t believe it, but it means so much.

Dear future me: Every day is a gift. Gather up your gift receipts and return them all. 

Dear past me: Don’t ever let a boy turn you into a person you hate. You are beautiful, and for fucks sake wear a bikini while you can still wear pants without an elastic waist. 

Dear person I’m jealous of: Let me be on your TV show. Iluyoo.

Dear person I had a crush on: I heard your fat joke. I laughed hysterically then I went home with someone twice as hot. Myself. 

Dear significant other: Thanks for the kids. They’re kind of my life.