That Georgia Waitress Is My Hero

On two separate occasions in the last two years I’ve been violated by men who clearly felt entitled to me and my body. Me. Fucking. Too. I won’t get into too much detail in regards to the first time it happened, because I don’t have to. All I’ll say is that a grotesque gesture, and a joke was made at my expense, in front of a group of men, in an environment that was supposed to be in my favor.

The other instance? Feel free to read all about it.

explicitlanguage someone grabbed my

And then that video went viral of that waitress in Georgia who body slammed a man for grabbing her tush… and she’s my fucking hero.


Don’t get me started on her work uniform or her choice of career, honestly, fuck you if you even bring it up. She did what any woman in her position wished they could do themselves.

When I talk about my experiences the question I get everytime is, in some way, did you stick up for yourself? No. I didn’t. Both times, I froze. I did nothing in the moment other than stare wide eyed in disbelief. I hate that. As much as I wish I would have body slammed them, or made a scene exposing their nasty entitlement, I know that’s not the norm.

With that being said, the next time some guy wants to rub his dick on me, or grab my lady parts, I have a plan…and it includes more than just a verbal lashing.

Don’t touch people if they don’t want to be touched. Don’t assume a stranger will welcome your advances. Don’t allow acquaintances to over step their boundaries. Speak up, use your voice, or just body slam those bitches.

Georgia waitress, I love you. I’m also super awesome and we can be friends if you want. Totally up to you though.

Please Stop

Please stop littering, complaining about stupid shit you have no control over, talking to people as if they’re less important than you, merging into traffic like an asshole, wearing less than age-appropriate clothing, allowing your children to do whatever the fuck they want in public places, texting/game playing/selfie taking/not paying attention while operating your vehicle, and talking on the phone while using a public bathroom… it’s weird. 

Not to get all hoity toity, but a few more…

Please stop throwing your cigarette butts all over the place, clogging the middle of the grocery store aisle to have a conversation with that person you didn’t want to run into in the first place, fishing for compliments, and talking on the phone while checking out at a register… it’s rude.

Oh my God, I can’t stop…

Please stop letting your dog crap all over people’s yards without picking it up, getting all up in arms over differing opinions, calling protesters unpatriotic – that’s an oxymoron, telling your bartender and/or server that you’re ready only to stare at the menu for another five minutes, interrupting people, being overly persistent when someone says no, saying all lives matter, and getting onto an elevator before allowing the others to get off… there are rules.


Last one, I promise…

Please stop using the express lane with your cart full of shit, ignoring the cart corrals and leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot, driving the exact same speed as the car next to you, not saying thank you when someone holds the door for you, believing that personal hygiene is a choice, asking your neighbors for their wi-fi password, chewing with your mouth open, spoiling the ending of a movie or TV show, using offensive and/or derogatory terms for other people, pretending to listen, and asking your server for the winning lottery numbers…it’s not funny anymore.


Frisbee Challenged

I can’t throw a fucking frisbee. I know this sounds petty, and you’re probably wondering how the hell I’m going to fill this page ranting about something so stupid. This could end right here, and I’d still feel like it’s legit.


I can’t throw a frisbee. The end.

It’s embarrassing. I want to play disc golf, and I can’t. I play the first two rounds before I’m so mad and annoyed with myself that I just bitterly walk along and refuse to play. I’m not a competitive person, I don’t care that I would lose… I care that my disc is going into the pond. I care that I actually try to be good, and there are only a few select things I do that for. It seems like it’d be so easy. I’m all like… just point where you want it to go.



Cartwheels also fall into this category but I’m not talking about that. Diving face first into the ground counting on my arms to keep my chubby ass suspended, hoping I land back upright is clearly harder than flicking a disc outta my hand. Just once, I want it to soar flat.

Sidenote/Fun fact: A long time ago,  my older sister and I were in the backyard at my dad’s house, I think it was around the fourth of July. This was one of the many times I tried to toss a frisbee around casually. This story, however, is not about my ability to throw it, it’s about my lack of skills for catching one too. In my defense, it was dark out… who plays catch with a frisbee after dark? She flicks the disc in my direction and I’m not sure if it was my lack of grace, the lack of light, or my lack of attention… but the frisbee hit me right on the bridge of my nose. I don’t even know if I put my hands up in an attempt to catch it. It was just like…

Minus the beach.

F is for Frisbee Challenged: A to Z Challenge

Cold Sores

Seriously. I can’t. I was supposed to work the other night and had someone cover my shift because of a fucking cold sore. I knowingly just handed over probably, $100 to a coworker. Waiting tables with this thing, people will think I have herpes! (Which I do not just so we’re clear, 100% STD free.) But that’s a general fear. I don’t even want to walk outside in public, let alone tell patrons what the soup of the day is.

I don’t know why, when someone else has a cold sore I don’t assume they have an STD wart on their lip, I assume they’ve probably been a little stressed out. I do, however, take note of how nasty it is, which is exactly why I could justify handing over my shift (tips) to another server.

I’m the girl who wears red lipstick so people use their eyes, not only their ears. One of the coolest chicks I know taught me that trick. Waitresses, even if it’s not your thing, throw on some lipstick and you’ll repeat yourself less. Today though, I put lipstick on hoping it would somehow disguise this atrocious monstrosity on my lower lip, and instead wound up looking like the fucking joker.

How can one little sore make you feel so nasty?

For lunch, I made myself a burrito and couldn’t even enjoy it. It was stupid to even try, seeing how it’s painful to open my mouth. Why is this happening to me!? That’s when I went back to the store and purchased some Abreva and smothered it. I say I went back because I had already gone and purchased some Oragel stuff that was half the price. I’m not playing games anymore… but now I’m $126 into this fucking thing.

Have you ever had a $126 cold sore? Fuck my life!

C is for Cold Sores: A to Z Challenge

Married White Female, Looking for a Healthy Debate

Our world today allows us to create our own skewed version of reality. Social media, every single day, throwing anything and everything that we already agree with in our faces, and news feeds making us feel superior and right. How can I be wrong? I’ve been blasted by twenty-two articles in a span of ten minutes showing my opinions as fact at this point.

I put myself into check sometimes with reminders that this also applies to me. It’s not easy to keep an open mind and truly listen to ideas that push against what has been smothering you since Facebook and other social media outlets started targeting their audiences with sponsored content. Your entire social media existence is warped, and that’s why we feel so strongly about issues – it’s being fed to us on a silver platter. Sure, it’s warped to your liking – but that’s the problem.

Healthy debate is a treat nowadays. I have a hard time finding a person with opposing viewpoints to have a sensible conversation with; to explain, in a normal tone of voice, why they feel a certain way and then allowing me to do the same. Believe it or not, when I express myself, I enjoy a (respectful) contradictory remark. I cross my fingers and hope that this person hasn’t been bitten by the social media bug. That maybe, just maybe, a respectable, low-key exchange of opinions is possible.

The vast majority of humans who utilize social media would rather pump their fists and bang their chests, knowing that you won’t jump on their bandwagon. The opposing viewpoint does not matter, whoever says theirs the loudest wins – and they still hate each other.

We used to debate, we used to try to be open-minded to differing opinions. Not anymore, because we don’t even care enough to educate ourselves, let alone other people. It’s too easy. Fake news is real news, and real news doesn’t stand a chance. The speed at which information gets relayed to and from is faster than we, as a world, can keep up with… and that will be our demise.

It used to be common conversation to imply that everyone was entitled to their own opinion without pure madness erupting. That was fun. Suddenly, no one is listening. No one is interested as to why their neighbor voted the way they did, why they are choosing to not vaccinate their children, why they are for, or against gun reform. Instead of instantly judging, if we could take the time to just ask, why. 

We would be in such a better place if healthy debates were still a common occurrence. Whether you’re Republican, Democrat, Independent, white, black, Mexican, Catholic, Atheist, young, old – this reality we live in affects us all in a range of different ways, but here we are.

Next time you’re in a position to have a real conversation with someone who doesn’t look at the world the same way you do, take it and embrace it. Listen to what is being said and respect that even if our ideas are polar opposites that we’re still human beings, coexisting.