Tag Archives: covid 19

INHALE

The light burns my retinas, as I step out from the gloom that has been 18 months of a global pandemic. I squint against the glare of freedom and safety. Yet I am hesitant to embrace, my arms hang stiffly by my side and my mask dangles from my ears, I am a deer caught in the headlights of something that feels foreign and unreal.

What do you mean I can hug you? WHAT I can press my lips to your cheek and leave my mark upon you? Can I? Do you want me to? Do I want to? Can you give me Covid (oh wait I have had it, can I get it again?, but can I?).

When you step forward, mask less, arms stretched wide and pull me to you, the warmth feels seductive, but I repel against you, my body recoils, it feels wrong to be close, but oh how I need that human contact again. I crave it and hate it in equal measures. I feel unprotected, vulnerable, foreign, exposed, like life can see me naked and is attacking each cell hard and fast.

My anxiety is currently high, I am on edge, my breathing is out of synch, I feel raw, I teeter on the edge of a panic attack. I hold my mask tight in my hand and breathe, I lung breathe, belly breathe, I breathe fast, I breathe slow, I am mask less. I can breathe, the air is fresh, and does not smell of my washing detergent. I can smell spring, another persons skin, flowers, wet grass, rain rolling in, I can inhale and exhale.

Inhale, exhale!

Hand hold, hug, kiss, stand indoors with friends, I am alive, I can be, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I feel so naked. Covid was my excuse to step back, to not be, to be alone and now I have to be sociable, tangible and touchable…….

Inhale

I am exposed……….

The end is nigh – take that how you need!

Why must we attack?

I would like to point out that I do not start this post from a place of anger or righteousness. Nor from an assumed higher stand point on race, religion, politics or whatever else people seem to beat each other up over, demean, belittle or try to persuade to change, using noise, anger and hate.

BASICALLY, THERE IS WAY TOO MUCH SHOUTING, not enough action and a bucket of ANGER. Everyone seems so volatile and they are turning on friends, groups, tribes, peoples feelings and thoughts. It seems at a time when we need to love harder than ever and join together, the lines are drawn, the boundaries are built and are getting taller by the day.

As, you may or may not know I am a bit of a social media voyeur, I mean I LOVE social media. I occasionally try to have an online opinion / voice, usually resulting in me getting severely burnt, crushed and then I vow never to do that again. Plus, I truly do not want to add any more fuel to the rabid fire of discord that is sweeping around us.

I scroll through Facebook over breakfast, and watch as individuals are publicly attacking each other on race views, LGBTQ opinions and thoughts, whether you love or hate Trump, whether you are red or blue, whether you are religious, not religious, believe in Coronavirus or think its a hoax. If I were to list my credentials that would potentially cause a online put down or hate fest, I would be :-

Race views – “black Lives matter”, yes I know all lives do matter, but as a white person I have never had to fight hard to be secure in the knowledge that my life matters. People of color do. Yes all lives are precious but we need to fight the point that black lives matter, to even begin to get their lives to the level of an “all lives matter” discussion. Does that make sense? Because, as a white person I know my life matters, and that has never been suppressed or disputed. Like EVER. I mean, can you imagine what it must feel like to not feel equal, just because of the amount of melanin your skin contains.

LGBTQ views – Just be you and be happy and if that means loving a boy, a girl, boys and girls. loving no one, changing sex, being fluid, being asexual. JUST BE YOU that is all. Everyone, should have the freedom to be what the fuck they want to be, no judgement. Period! I really do not understand why anyone would have a problem with it?

Politics – I cannot vote, and if I did, it probably would not be for Trump. Yet the economy before Coronavirus really has never been better. I have lots of Republican friends and lots of Democrat friends and to be honest it is OK to have an opinion and I will not try to change it by shouting. I am also not educated enough in that realm to really have a valid opinion or stand point. Yet, I agree, take the POTUS’s volatile Twitter account away.

Religion – Not religious, agnostic yes. Please do not try to change me, and I will not change you. But know this, I truly understand why you have a faith, that sense of belonging and security in thought, must be so grounding.

I believe in science, so I believe in Coronavirus and I will social distance, wear a mask and wash my hands.

OK if you need to release the boiling fire inside you, go-ahead you can use me to release it. I will listen and then walk away. As, I have always told my children, if you shout at people, no one will listen and or hit you. Yet, adults are still screaming at each other. WE NEED TO LISTEN, care for and then listen again to each other. We do not have to agree, but we need to respect views, listen some more and talk rationally.

WHY SO MUCH HATE? Is it from fear? I feel like the underlying commonality is terror, living in the unknown. We have a pandemic that does not abate (wear masks people). We have race movement that is generating change, giving voice and bringing us all up to the line to move forward as a whole, single body of people. Yet there is back lash, riots, bad elements that whip around all the greatness that is achieved, minimizing it and creating a discord, disharmony and chaos. People retreat and fall silent for fear of being attacked, verbally or physically and once again change is halted. We crawl back into our electronic holes of safety, desensitized to the life around us. Not accepting the movement that wants to propel us forward into the light, instead we allow ourselves to shiver in the dark, remaining terrified and angry. We surely cannot continue like this. SO please .

LISTEN to your neighbor, you do not have to agree.

LOVE your neighbor, even when they are ass holes.

LIKE your neighbor, see above

LIVE through kindness, as kindness is stronger that hate.

And if they shout at you, just simply walk away in silence. Because, a silent word is a powerful one.

Love Kelly “lets be chilled” Joy

Sometimes I just do not want to….

COPE.

As the Rona drags on people all over the world, either in lock down or social distancing at home are rapidly starting to fade. At first everyone was all gung ho, fighting in unison, fighting the good fight, the right fight. Joined in one goal, united to save the world, unnamed heroes for the weak, compromised and elderly.

We were strong and shiny, relishing in this new world of change and as they say “a change is as good as rest”?

However, time has creeped on and some poor souls are still navigating lock downs and the rest of us are social distancing. The shiny patina is cracking and the levels of distance are getting closer, as people become bored, tired, depressed and sloppy.

I hold my hands up, I may be one of them, letting the slide begin. My hands bleed from the amount of times I wash them and they hurt, I want them to stop hurting. The new life is now OLD, our resilience and stoic determination has turned into a secret longing to escape and break all the rules. The slide of darkness has begun and the depression and anxiety I fight so hard against, are digging their tiny little claws deeper and deeper into my skin and are beginning to break through to the bone.

I’m tired and the anxiety is knocking hard at my shell. Every day I fight off a little panic and then another panic waves over and my breathing gets short and I am convinced the virus has come to drag me to the nearest hospital. A mist settles, stubbornly at the periphery of my vision and I see the world through a haze. Nothing is clear and all is obscured. I want to run hard, to run far and hope I can out run my fear. I want to drink to ease the adrenaline, but my eating disorder will not allow it. Because, walking hand in hand with my anxiety is little Miss Anorexia and she can be very persuasive; albeit a very slow runner, as she does not eat enough. My tools are in place and my sanity understands the whirlpool I peer into, trying not to dip a toe in and get sucked into oblivion.

I need to get out, we need to escape. The world needs to be released, to conquer fears and viruses and figure this shit out. I am a shadow, sucked dry of trying to be fun, positive, creative, a good mum, a caring wife, a thoughtful friend. I want to be selfish, self centered and just walk out the door, not to come back for a day.

Sadly, the days will continue and I need to figure my crap out, look at it, accept it and see myself for who I am. Slightly damaged goods with a time well earned, super hero cape, that floats all glittery and shiny over my broken core. I know my life is not as bad as others and I am not sad. I am just trying to cope, the only way I know how and if that includes a 20 mile run, a eating disorder and a few panic attacks, that is mine to own and I will not apologise for being honest about it and showing it to you. It is my gift to you, to share, to reveal and to understand your feelings are yours and yours alone and no one else is allowed to minimize them and tell you they are irrelevant. They are yours, a gift of your strength and for you to release the burden, as this can lessen the pain. I am here to take that for you and relinquish it with mine.

I am exhausted. I am your friend, I am honest, I am raw, I will not apologize.

Signed

K. K,” so over being good” Joy

The lost HUG!

Today, I dedicate these heartfelt words to the elusive hug. Oh where for art thou sweet hug? Unbeknownst to me, you have been ripped from my bosom, tossed away and fed to the COVID lions, all 19 of them. As they roam our fertile, overpopulated earth, feeding off our vulnerabilities, locking us up in our homes to stare at four stark walls, listless, lifeless and hugless.

SO hugless. I am not a talkative soul, I communicate through written word or with my physical being. I can still write, so here I am writing – SURPRISE, but I have not touched another person (my husband and 3 squirmy boys, are not included here) for 5 whole weeks. No hug, no hand shake, no kiss on the cheek, nothing! Just 6 feet of heart wrenching emptiness, yawning like a chasm, petrifying and unobtainable. I never knew how much I needed that type of connectivity, that feeling of closeness. Now please do not get me wrong, I do not go around bear squishing everyone I meet, but the people I care for, share time with, who open up to me, share moments with me, I want to express my delight with them. My deep soul love for them and there is absolutely nothing sexual about this at all. It is all about occupying, unifying a space and handing them my trust and devotion to our friendship, in a neat, hug sized package.

OH that delicious hug, the feeling of my cheek on your shoulder, the heat against my skin, the complete safety of being enveloped, for a brief tiny moment into the safety of another. Heart beats tick tocking in unison, thrumming tunefully together. A glimmer of a soul can shoot through and then be lost as you pull apart, in the unspoken knowledge that you have both shared something deeper than a spoken word.

I count down the days until I can share freedom with another human being. Supping coffee, running together, sitting close and chatting, hugging, tight squeezes, brief grapples, a peck on the cheek and head on a shoulder, just being close to a person you want inside your 6ft bubble.

I miss you dear hug, please come home soon.

Love a very sad K K Joy

Shadow Runner

The darkness is my running partner, more so now I am forced to be solitary in my stride. I do not hate it, I am very comfortable with my company, we laugh at the same jokes and run at the same pace, so it is perfection. However, it is not unusual for me to run in the unlight of the morn! I am a mother of three small boys and I need to get up and run before the kids open their sleep crusted eyelids and stretch their gangly arms towards dawns first light.

It is my ritual, it is my thing and I adore every dusky edged moment of it. As I steal through the house at 4.30 am, silently yanking on shorts, sports bra, socks, wrist band, hair band, headlamp, HR monitor and FINALLY the “piste de resistance”, my sneakers. To aid in my stealth I lay them all out the night before, clean, in order, ready! I double check what run I have and then choose the run sneaker to match, comfy Saucony ISO 2, 4mm drop for steady and easy, Saucony Kinvara, 4 mm drop , for tempo or intervals and then my Saucony type A9, 4mm for the track or a race. By the way I like Saucony incase you were not sure, well better then that, my feet and ankles really like them.

Faced scrubbed, coffee chugged, “bathroom”, teeth brushed, bed hair clipped back, I grab my hand held bottle and steal out into the gloom.

Stepping into the sepia of a fading night, the blackness and humidity envelopes my already sweating body (I am a Florida flatlander), shielding me from danger. The dim beam of my lamp fights its way through the night, scrabbling to light a safe path for my pounding feet, rhythmic body flow and steady breath as I strike out in time to the beating crickets and hiss of sprinklers.

A hushed calm floats over me, shushing jangled nerves and a busy mind in to silence. Foot plants, arm swings, breath rushes, foot plants, arm swings, breath rushes, again and again, over and over, my morning meditation propelling me deeper and deeper into the waking morning. A grey light starts to warm the sky, subtle reds, pinks, oranges and gold start to paint the sky, the tips of trees and roofs of a slumbering world.

Feet are still ticking over, perspiration running in rivulets down my back, across my face, I rub it out of my eyes, breath rushes in breath rushes out. Birds get busy, softly chirping with the breaking sky as it brightens. The moon softly, slides across the horizon to hide behind a cloud, the birds noise builds and builds, a mounting crescendo of song. Whipping around me, pushing me, driving me like a spectre from the confines of the night in to the day. Losing the phantom, joining my flesh and bone body.

Arms swing forward, arms drive back, chasing the night as she slips away. Shadows are sucked out from the base of trees and stretch to the soaring sun. She climbs higher and higher, the birds oh the birds are so loud, I run faster and faster, heart pounding as each mile passes, like a vampire I yearn for the night, sprinting home. Strike, swing, breath, the momentum, the motion is now a blur, I am almost there, muscles screaming for oxygen, but there is nothing left, depleted, spent. The front door looms, I slow, I stop, head hanging like a weeping willow tree, bowing humbly to the sunrise, my sweat glistens in its newborn glow. I lie down, hair plastered across my brow, the twilight is gone and I am stranded. Left to recover on the concrete, dragging air in and forcing it out, slowing my heart, relishing the stillness, the mild ache of my body as it rests from the pain.

I am still, I am awake, I am a shadow, I am a runner.

Minutes pass, I ease myself up off the warming side walk, drag in a slug of water and open the door, ready to hit the fray of my day.

I close it quietly and begin.

Love, Shadow runner.

Grocery Washing Vs Grocery Cattle Run

The COVID CHRONICLES – from a deranged mother of 3. – everyone is at it.

Holy Macaroly (see mum I am trying to reign in my profanities) grocery shopping just became (thanks to our friendly little Corona Light beer virus) a little more hellish! Now please correct me if I am wrong?

Although, when I seriously think about it, nothing physically or mentally annihilates a person, like pushing a cart, carrying enough food to feed a small British village, while having to navigate groups of bored gossipers and precarious displays of tiny glass herb bottles, that clutter every aisle. Now mix in the fact I have to also lion tame three boy dragons, as they roar up and down the shiny, bright corridors of food, whooping like cowboys chasing whatever they dream up. Those damn lights jack them up every time, like moths to a flame.. AHHHHHH see the lights, see the pretty lights mummy, bam bam bam and off they shoot, diving head first in to a kaleidoscope of chip packets, whirling like demented spinning tops.

With my head down, I chase them, pushing my “baby elephant” sized cart, which is vomiting food all over the floor. Whipping around the corner at full throttle I finally land at the check out, red faced, gasping and trying not to head butt the handle of the cart. It is at this precise moment, when I can see the gaping door of freedom, that the dragons all decide to kick the crap out of each other. At the precise moment I am trying to pay.

I stand there like a dummy, fake smiling so hard at the cashier my jaw hurts. I glare at the three mini Tysons, with a look I hope is drilling in to their brains and shouting silently at those baby brain synapses JUST YOU BLOODY WAIT UNTIL I GET YOU IN CAR , you little gits.

Let me just caveat, I have serendipitously avoided the “said” above scenario for almost 2 years, thanks to the advent of “home delivery” and “pick up” grocery shopping. I am now unashamedly in bed, naked with Costco, Amazon and Publix, drinking a cup of Starbucks just to seal the deal. Those inflated prices, driver tips and delivery fees, are worth every penny, well dollar, well maybe about $30 extra. I don’t care, it saves the few brain cells I still posses in my advancing years and to be honest those herb displays.

NOW, Rona (COVID 19) has turned up to the party and she has decided to lick everyone and everything she can find. Depositing those nasty little cough bugs and chest squeezing droplets everywhere, this is royally, screwing up my home delivery system. Firstly, I cannot buy my favorites – OUT OF STOCK, Rona nabbed it. Next let me find a delivery date – NO SLOTS AVAILABLE FOR LIKE FOREVER , damn it Rona took it, that greedy cow and then obviously licked it. Now if by some weird chance I do get a delivery in like ummmm 25 goddam days, Rona must have caught “the rona” , and now we enter into a whole other performance.

Here we go……..

1) Delivery driver turns up, with wildly reduced order, Greedy Rona stole it.

2) I stand 6ft back, a terrified lunatic and feel so terrible that I do not help unpack. Instead I watch like a wide eyed lemming, as some brave person (probably licked all over by sweet Rona) has to lug my delivery to my front door and deposit it there.

3) Stranded at the front door I just look and stare. UMMMMMM what do I do now? Surely Rona has been salivating and gyrating all over that, leaving a trillion little virus particles to lurk in amongst the eggs (gold dust food) and cereal packets. All ready to get me, strike me down and pull out my lungs, so she can stamp all over them…

Thwack, thwack on go the gloves, slup, slup off come the gloves, I should just wash my hands. Bleach solution out, cloths as long as my body piled up and a clean basket by my side. I sit on the door step. HUMPH

Squirt – goes the spray

Leave – it a minute or 2

Rub – rub again (secretly panic I have COVID 19 all over my hands – run to wash hands)

In the clean box you go, Rona free food (I hope)

Repeat

No licking allowed people.

60 MINUTES LATER……

I have finished. My hands are sore, bleeding at the knuckles, like a skinny member of “Married to the Mob” and then I start on bleaching the door handles and floor, AGAIN!

So, my thought is! Which is worse? Chasing down my kids in the store like a lunatic or cleaning groceries outside in 85F heat, wearing a pinny like an complete lunatic.

I truly cannot decide.

Thanks Rona

Yours bleeding, Kelly the paranoid android.

Coronavirus Skills

With the unfolding doom swirling around us, as the universe locks up shop and secretly sinks into an oblivion of nothingness. As we start descending in to a dank basement of darkness and gloom, a blinding light breaks through and shatters the night…. The glare of super social media stands strong, as our hero of the piece.

The World Wide Web has exploded. We are now pleasantly subjected to the talents of enthusiastic, slightly out of shape, gin drinking, gorgeously, gyrating mothers in leotards singing “I will survive”. We have been delighted by serenading Italians on their balconies (sadly I am not that talented). There are muffin topped, naked stoners, swinging their dicks in time to a pendulum and not one hair from that saggy scrotum is flashed, as they “expertly” keep in time to the pendulum. All the while, continuously smoking and seriously not a single one of those curly pubes are displayed. WOW, I bow down to his genius!?! Gulp maybe not, that is closer than 6ft and I will then be eye level with a pair of aging, drooping ball bags; I salute you sir I salute you. The stream of videos is endless… We have the, run around the house naked video – POST! Teach fractions with large glasses of wine (loved) video – POST! Juggle small cats video POST! Exploding brain cells BOOM BOOM BOOM video – POST! ARGGHHHH INSANITY VIDEO, POST POST POST! Lets just lay ourselves down in front of the camera and completely lose our shit video… POST the goddam life out of it people. Keep going people, keep at it ALWAYS, because the struggle is real and we are with you on this ride.

Having said all that, I am completely, utterly and deeply in love with the raw exposed talent of all of this. No one gives a crap. It is all, “here I am”, see me jack around and I hope I can make you laugh. I have officially, cracked up, lay on the floor dying with side hurting laughter so much in the last 2 weeks, that I secretly love Corona (light beer) virus for the gifts it just keeps giving, aside from a persisitent cough, potential lung destruction and a small side plate of death.

I am also in awe of the radically new, totally unhelpful skills I too am learning. From staying indoors for what seems like an eternity, dudes I have gained serious SKILLZ and yes the Z means these are awesome. Let me list them and I am sure you will be impressed with my new found prowess across a wealth of topics.

1) Washing hands like a surgeon – man I have that hands up, elbow action down, like seriously down, maybe a video, why the hell not – POST.

2) Opening doors with my feet, yes I can lift my leg that high, impressed? You should be, I am nearly 43 years old. I am practically a grandma (eeekkk and in the high risk category)

3) Making a bleach solution and the ability to speed clean my groceries with said homemade bleach solution in 3 minutes. Just call me Americas top Ninja warrior.

4) I have re learnt the art of the flax egg, you egg hoarders will not destroy my baking, you will not destroy my ability to eat CAKE. We must eat cake.

5) The ability to make dinner from quinoa, my last egg (damn you hoarders) and dead looking veg (truly it was entering the annihilated, limp, manky, death stage) – TA DAAAAAA – Chinese stir fry ala the Rona. No one died eating it, so score on that front.

6) I can do a headstand for a long time, legs straight up and everything – OOHH VIDEO opportunity right there. POST – If naked, I am sure I’ll get at least 5 likes.

7) I can shout really loudly above the “taking off jumbo jet” din of 3 boys trying to kill each other with plastic Lightsabers. Believe me that is loud, like immense.

There are also a million and one completely mind numbing, un-useful skills I can add. Like expert timewasting, plucking my eyebrows for almost 30 minutes, staring at the ceiling for 20 minutes and thinking of nothing. Cleaning door handles everyday, not folding washing and making copious amounts of grill cheese sandwiches; we always have bread and cheese.

I know you are jealous, I am so cool, NOT!! Shit, I may even start dressing up and wearing makeup. So, on that sad note I’ll go back online and indulge in all those other caged, wildly talented folk. I particularly enjoy dancing, gin drinking, lycra clad videos, surely there is a site for that? (PS for you locked up men, the Pornhub is now free for quarantine, you are welcome.)

Please please Send me your SKILLZ (clean) with a Z and make me laugh, or seriously I may just cry when I have run out of eyebrows to pluck.

No one is going to save you Kelly, remember that.

Signed

My name is Kelly and I am addicted to 1980s, lycra injected social media.

Where did all the “normal” go?

Where did all the normal go? Yes that boring old, Dullsville regular, normalcy of life? What is normal I am sure you ask?  You know that well worn lovey that smells all cozy and is soft on your cheek – GONE. The well worn rug under your feet, RIPPED AWAY and you are left alone, loveyless and standing, barefoot, alone on a cold, concrete floor shivering… brrrr . Lets add naked to make this sink in and really morbific. (I learnt that word today, so had to use it.) PS. please do not imagine me naked, as enough to put anyone off their cereal.

COVID 19 came in disguised as a “chest cold” originating in China (please watch how Trump says this word, it is clearly the pandemics greatest gift, oh and apart from the social media explosion, that kindly fills up 1/2 my day with belly laughs).  It snuck in and BAM took over the world and decided to kill a few for good measure, just to make sure we took notice. So, began COVID’s assault and eye opening ride of world domination. “Outta ma way bitches”, it screams.

Side note –  humor is how I deal with change and impending doom (I can also be very dramatic). I do not make light of the situation, but I will point out all the “funny” in it. Because, there is a whole fucking lot, otherwise I may as well cry at the complete mismanagement of the situation and utter shit show we are in.

In life, in the space of one tiny month, a mere 30 ish days, everything went from “regular” to a dramatic, head spinning change to the way we live, socialize, work, educate, shop, wash ourselves, communicate. Shit, I even have to clean my own home now. Yes, I had to formally reintroduce my self to Mop and Bucket and Mr Dyson. Plus, the check I normally give to the cleaners, went into my drastically low, alcohol fund.

Essentially, we used to be “free” to roam (I am not sure that should necessarily be allowed for some members of society) and now we are not. LOCK DOWN PEOPLE, the aliens are coming (yup dramatic), Stay at home orders and chained to a 6ft bubble of safety (but not really, but we kinda of are). I went from stay at home / PT working mum to homeschool teacher Mrs Joy, who essentially my kids do not see as any type of educator. More snack bitch and Band-Aid distributor. I hear the calls from the social media do gooders, “now you know how hard those underpaid teachers work”. YES I do know, I have always known, I have always admired their love and hard work they put into my children, as all three can be compliant on a good day and ass holes the rest. But can I just point out, dear do gooder (non teacher, social media smack down person) these beautiful souls chose to be teachers, they knew the score and they have a special, innate ability to teach. I on the other hand NEVER chose to teach, should NOT teach and I am now thrust in to the glare of 3 pairs of beady, baby dragon eyes, smoke spilling from their nostrils. ALL WAITING for me to step up to the plate and get BURNED by their total lack of interest in me as a teacher. I was not trained, I do not have the enthusiasm or patience to guide my middle child through reams of cursive, I did my time of that when I was 8 years old (my cursive is something I am proud of today, you really should check it out, if I actually ever write again with a fountain pen). I also have to guide three children through a wealth of online schooling, I am but one, humble parent, running like a decapitated chicken through three different sets of educating. It is not a pleasant sight, believe me.

Sod this, any one up for a cookie baking session? Lets count those damn cookies and subtract as we eat, or throw in a little fraction work. MATH – check, Kid 2 read the instructions – ENGLISH – check. Baking is a science ooohhh SCIENCE – check – Job done.

Then we have the fact I cannot really leave my house, don’t get me wrong, I love my house, but I also love a good coffee shop and not being with my family 24 fucking 7 . I truly cannot hold my breath long enough at the bottom of the pool. The kids are wild, I am wild, that cat is getting into fights, the kids are pretty much re enacting the Hunger Games and Daddy is locked in his office working more hours than if he were at actually work. But instead I now have to feed him and shush the kids when he is on a work call. I spend a lot of my time shhhh shhhhhing SHHHHHH SHHHHHHINg like a train pulling into a station SHHHHHHHHHHHHH. SHHHHHH the F up PLEASE!!!

Now we come to shopping, what is the deal people? Apparently, toilet paper, eggs and meat are survival essentials. They are nowhere to be found, unless you dig deep into the recesses of the nut jobs back yard self made bunker, who think this is Armegeddon. Newsflash, paper to wipe your arse will not save you, neither will the eggs for that matter, a hospital just might. – Now that is a combo for the Chopped kitchen.

Just don’t get me started on the hoarders, as that is a whole another 1000 words right there. I mean who are these people? Where are these people? They are clearly the same over 65 year old ass holes (UHUM you are high risk) hanging out with their mates in groups over 6. Well if you want to get sick and potentially die I’ll bagsey your bog roll thank you very much. Jesus people! (and no he will not fucking save you, he doesn’t give a crap about you, but he may just want your toilet paper). We are staying inside to keep you safe and out you are trying to get on the damn beach, to watch a sunset with your buddies. You do realize this is just the tip of the iceberg, its gonna get BIG and you may just need that non existent hospital bed.

My head feels like it may just combust into a cloud of tiny pieces, with the wealth of miscellaneous thoughts I would like to share and amuse you with. But dear people, this is humungous and I could be here for days, I’ll surely be locked at home with my “sweet,” “dearsome,” kiddiewinkis FOR MONTHS and this blog may be my only savior. Because, hell I know and as I said God will not be doing any of that save you stuff, and I certainly will not be knocking on the doors of his big pearly gates.

Well, until my next brain dump, keep well. keep apart, wash those filthy hands AGAIN and don’t cough or you may just be hunted and killed.

Love an insane, not drunk enough, locked up mother of three boys, who has no Xanax.

Peace out