All posts for the month May, 2011


Published 11 May, 2011 by itsaheartache

It’s so hard for me to read the news online anymore.  And it’s not because the news is necessarily hard to read.  Yes, the economy is fucked.  Yes, gas prices are astounding.  Yes, we finally got “He who must not be named”… But I’ll tell you why the news is hard for me to read.

Fucking trolls.  We all know what they are.  They are the people who hide behind an imaginary screen name and make their shitty comments about anything from a child’s death to a new construction project.

Trolls are nothing new; when I was new to teh internets in 1998, on mIRC chat, there were trolls who would come into the chat rooms and “flood”… Are you guys old enough to remember that?

But nowadays, it’s SO harsh.  As I get older, I get less and less tolerant of people who don’t know when to shut their fucking mouth.

I try to participate on the internet and treat others as if they were in the same room as me.  If I wouldn’t say something to someone’s face, I sure as shit would never post it on the internet.  Point blank.  Sure, there is the obligatory vague Facebook status update, but I think that is different.

When you willfully and intentionally say things to hurt people, it makes you a dick.

You don’t go onto a posting about someone’s child being abducted from THEIR OWN back yard and talk trash about the parents’ ability to raise their children.

What if it was you?  What if your child was taken and hateful strangers had nothing better to do than to post awful jokes and Jeffrey Dahmer references?

OK, Shonda, calm down, if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

NO.  This is different.  This is hateful.  I consider this right up there with bullying.

Long story short… If you can’t play nice, I’m going to find a way to ground you from the fucking internet.

Oh and P.S. You might want to pick a new screen name… Big Dawg is SOOOO 1999 America Online cyber chat.  Asshole.



Published 1 May, 2011 by itsaheartache

I’m total bitch with an attitude today.

My sons will not stop arguing.

My middle son just got back from spending a weekend camping and came home with the holier than thou’s.

I’m sorry, Mr. Man, I forgot your red carpet and I forgot that we’re supposed to speak gently and use our indoor voices because you made the decision to stay up all weekend and now you’re tired and you’re crabby.


I forgot that it’s me that’s getting up at 5:30 every morning on 4 – 5 hours’ sleep just so I can transport your ungrateful hindend to jazz band, which happens to start a full HOUR before regular school.  And of course this is after having to wake you up because god forbid you, oh I don’t know, actually get UP with your alarm clock.

Then I come home and repeat for your brothers.

I forgot that it’s me working my ass off every day under tremendous pressure only to get texts from you TELLING me what you’re going to do after school, rather than making sure it’s OK.

I forgot that it’s me driving 45 minutes home through gridlock traffic and dipshits, only to walk in the door and get “what’s for dinner, I have to be at this place in 15 minutes, no I don’t have any homework, no I have no idea why I have 6 missing assignments – It’s the teachers’ fault, I know I turned it in, by the way can I have 10 dollars?”

I forgot that it’s me doing your laundry, scrubbing the toilet when you can’t  aim properly, washing your dishes, putting the bag back in the garbage can because you can’t be bothered to do that either.

I forgot that it’s me that somehow manages to make it work.

I’m sorry I’m not perfect and I’m sorry you can’t be bothered to appreciate what I do and what I struggle with on a daily fucking basis.

Now go to your room.