I cut my fingers off

This is how it went:

10:25pm text messaging my roommate from the room next to her

Me: Hi

Me: Cut my fingers off

Me: need helpggf

Me: Hurrry

me: *Sends picture of scissors*

photo (2)

*10-15 minutes pass with no rescue from roommate even though I know she got my text because I can see her typing in the message on my phone because my phone is cool*

Finally she yells out of her door to me

Her: “are you okay”

Me: “moan sadley”

Her: “im not joking, should I take you to the hospital?”

Me: *I prepare for her arrival to my room by crumpling up into a ball hiding my hand and holding the scissors in the other hand*

Her: *Walks in my room to save my life and yells at me to show her my hand*

Her: *cusses me out for faking a injury*

Moral of the story:


Sometimes you need to test the emergency skills of the people around you. My roommate is a jerk and I would have bled to death by time she got there. 



Please don’t steal, take, use, copy, change my posts/blogs. They are forever mine.


Swiffer Guy with One Arm… Racism? Belittling Handicap? Sexism?

So I was just watching the swiffer commercial with the man with one arm, and I started wondering how he lost his arm (I get curious and my mind races too fast). So I googled “why does the swiffer guy have one arm.”

And out of all the posts, websites, and blogs that showed up on the google search, each one started out by stating why he lost his arm followed by long rants about racism, sexism, handicap belittlement…

Seriously? It’s a fucking cleaning commercial with a interracial family. Its no big deal, we all have eyes, we see it.

I’m pretty sure when he said “and I still clean better than her” he meant because she has two arms and he has one. Not because she is a woman and she should be cleaning, cooking, and baring bastard children. I don’t know the guy, but come on!!! carrying on, I also highly doubt he meant “handicap people are less equipped to clean then normal born citizens of the world” or ” a white person cleaning better than a black person is shocking because they were once enslaved as housekeepers.”

Im sorry but when I was watching the commercial I took away none of these things. I saw a sweet family cleaning a house with a box delivered to their door full of cleaning supplies. If anything I think we should be concerned why they just opened a large box sent to them anonymously. It could have been full of anthrax, sharpened spears, or one of those fishes that killed Steve Erwin just waiting to pop out and kill a brother. Maybe there should be controversy because our precious children are watching this commercial and seeing that its okay to open a strange delightfully wrapped package full of toxic chemicals at their door? Hmmm? Riddle me that! RIDDLE ME THAT AMERICA!!!!



Please don’t steal, take, use, copt, or change my posts/blogs. Thankaaa youuuu.

I dug and I died – POEM

I dug and I died

Yesterday I dug my grave just for the day of today.

I dug it deep and I dug it round just big enough to fit my emotions.

Once a dug deep enough I jumped right in to wait for the morning sun.


The sun came round and I turned bright red with sadness of emotion.

I was not dead, I was only red, and tomorrow had already come.


SAW 4/23/14


Please do not steal,copy, take, use, or rewrite my poems. They are mine. Yes mine. Thanks.


Links in regards to poetry (I admit I did not read them):










Small Talk

Im wondering if I’m the only one who doesn’t enjoy small talk.

“how is your day”

“how have you been”

“whats new”

I mean first off who decided it was proper to make small talk? Everybody knows its just for show.

Personally, when I see someone I know I just do a run and hug. Its pretty much exactly how it sounds…I dash up, hug them, and leave. That’s it.

Straight to the point. I mean it really says it all.

And another thing, I can’t stand when people ask me “what have you been up too.” My mind immediately goes blank. So I say your casual “not much.”

Even if my mind didn’t go blank, I hate summarizing my life in a time span of about 30 seconds (after-which people start regretting asking). Honestly, I have so much going on I can’t capture it, and when I don’t have stuff going on its netflix.

Plus talking about accomplishments in such a bland form. It is super boring to me. I would rather be laughing and joking, and if it comes up at some point it comes up.

Especially if you are friends with someone, then they probably already know the important stuff. And if you have not seen someone in a while I would rather be making new memories then talking about bullshit I did when they weren’t around. I’m not looking for glorification, Im just looking for life. To me I will talk about work as I work, and when I play I just want to play. Selling yourself is not becoming. If you are a good worker people will ask for your services, whether you where a T-shirt that promotes it or not.

Basically what Im saying is there are a tone of reasons why small talk makes me uncomfortable. I can’t be the only one?

So lets put a stop to small talk. Everyone grab a friend, hug and release.

Please don’t steal, use, copy, take my posts/blogs/writings. They are mineeeeee.

How I make New Friends

Once I see a new person that I want to befriend; I just grab their arm, look them straight in the eye with a gaze so deep they cannot escape, then I gently reach into their pocket and grasp their cell phone. From there, while still remaining in locked eyes, I enter my phone number into their cellular device. I then call myself. It is entirely necessary that I have their phone number as well, just in case they try to escape our new found, and flourishing, friendship. Like a gentle flower I release their arm. I then slowly leave them, backing up the entire way, so that we may watch each other drift off into the distance. The distance of our new found love.





My response to the post:


Everyone Please don’t steal, take, use, copy, or rudely take over my writings. Thanks.

Don’t judge my grammar and spelling skillzz.

Poem: So Beautiful

So beautiful to the touch. But I shouldn’t, I am in remorse from my own soul dying at the hands of another. So beautiful to the touch. But wait. But stop. But wait. But stop. I whirl my body around with questions. I whirl I twirl I run. But my mind won’t stop its route. Don’t you dare I tell my own hands as they fumble and they fall. Don’t you dare I tell my heart, as it fumbles and it falls. Don’t you dare, I tell my soul that no longer exists. Do as you wish I tell my mind, because it is all that is left.


SAW 04/08-09/2014 My Poem.

This is my poem. Please don’t steal, take, or use my work.