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‘Tis the season for ‘no good deed goes unpunished’

2 Dec


This post contains the word FUCK. If you do give a fuck about that, then don’t read it. But, if you don’t give a fuck, then you should proceed.. or don’t, I don’t give a fuck really. Happy Holidays 🙂


When I was younger I recall my father telling me that “No good deed goes unpunished”. Being young, I really didn’t know exactly what that meant. But, as the years have passed since then, I have come to realize the harsh reality of which and it has led me to understand: CARING TOO MUCH CAN FUCK YOU OVER! annnnnnnd it does…


I have always been one to care {doh!}. I have a simple, yet giving heart which controls my need to always put my neck out… and more often than not, my neck gets blown off. {I envision the alien guy, Jeebs, from the movie Men In Black, when he gets his head shot off, he just grows another – yeah, that’s me}

You’d think after having my good deeds backfire time and time again that I would take a note from  Rhett Butler and just say “FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN”.

frankly my dear

But I can’t.

Thus lies the crossroads to giving a shit and the need to stop giving a shit. It’s a shitty sticky situation {say that 10x fast}.

The holiday season is full of passion, giving, cheerfulness and… assholes. Is it just me, or do the majority of assholes {not all of them} just stay indoors all year long and the second the holidays come around, they decide to shit on all of the rest of us normal people who give a fuck? They are everywhere. {And possibly reading this right now. Well, can I just say that I am OVER YOU! Go back home and shit in your own yard. Yeah, you!}

I can’t even tell you how many times I have had done something nice and have had it backfire on me. I’m a genuinely caring person, so I’m not sure what karma is doing to me, but I am fucking paying! I can only think that maybe in a past life I really didn’t give a fuck, let alone give two fucks, and now I am reaping all that built up bad karma from the old me. Like the “past life me” pushed grandma’s down stairs, told mom’s their babies were ugly, and stole money from the Salvation Army bucket. Not a single fuck was given from the “past life me”. Well SCREW YOU OLD PAST LIFE ME!

I digress…

So, today, while driving to Longs Drugs {yes, its’ still called ‘Longs’ here in Hawaii. They {{meaning whomever showed up at the meeting that day}} thought it best not to confuse the people of Hawaii. We would notice that the name changed to CVS, and clearly not know what the CVS stands for and probably not shop there anymore. I don’t know what our obsession is of ‘Longs’, but it’s deep and should not be fucked with. #LONGLIVELONGS. FOREVER}….anywho…

Oh brah, right… So I was driving through the Longs parking lot when I saw a man backing out of his spot in the next row. I wasn’t planning on parking there but I couldn’t help but see how sharply he was backing out, and before I knew it, this guy backed into the car parked beside him. This guy clearly didn’t give a fuck and started to drive off! I, giving a fuck, noticed this guy trying to drive off.  I quickly pulled into a stall and ran out to yell at him. I was throwing up my hands and yelling. I simple knew this asshole wasn’t going to stop, so I used my Jedi skills and memorized his license plate as he drove away. I waited for a bit thinking he would come back… the asshole didn’t! So I started to write a note to the person he hit when she came out of the store. I approached her and told her the story and gave her the man’s license plate number. She was clearly thankful and appreciative of me. She continued to embellish that there should be more people in the world like me. You’re welcome. {duh, I’ve been trying to tell you that for how long now?}. I felt ten-feet tall. I went into the store and did my shopping with a smile on my face. I think I was even humming a Christmas Carol – okay so it was Miranda Lamberts’ “Gravity is a bitch”, but dammnit I was humming! I even let someone go ahead of me in line. I was happy. I was cheerful. I loaded my gifts and jumped in my truck, Big Blue….

Now, I can’t tell you for sure, but once I saw it, I think the words  “WHAT THAAA FUCK” echoed loudly from my mouth. Loudly. There it was. A ticket on my windshield. Apparently when I pulled quickly into the stall to chase down Christmas Asshole, I had parked in the middle of two stalls. Annnnnnnd apparently this is frowned upon in the Longs’ parking lot. Now…, let me tell you that there was NO ONE, repeat it, NO FUCKING ONE parked in that row. There wasn’t even a half-full parking lot. It was as crowded as the “Gun Buy-Back” in California. There was hardly anyone there. Annnnd the people who were there were either scoring on returning something that was broken, or they didn’t know why they were there to begin with {hey guys, there’s a line, let’s stand in it} annnnnd I was the asshole that took up two spots… oh no! Fuck you! I was the “good Samaritan” trying to help a neighbor out and accidentally parked in two spots. Thanks. You just made my day!

I, however, with a Grinchly grin, shoved the ticket in the compartment of my middle conceal, flipped off the security guard and drove away. Ya know, because how else should we react to being screwed over… again. It was either that, or mail the ticket to the nice lady I had just helped. Assholes!

If it wasn’t this event that happened today it was the one that happened last week at work {If you don’t have enough money to tip, you don’t have enough money to eat at a restaurant, especially my restaurant where I give my all and not for minimum wage you jerk}… Or it would be the one that will positively happen next month.  It’s a vicious cycle of good and punishment.

Just keep swimming… just keep swimming.

Thus, ‘Tis the season for ‘No good deed goes un-punished’ is giving me a new outlook on life. I shall start my research on “How to not give a fuck” and let you know how it turns out.

giving a fuck





All things yellow and green

4 Apr

The month of April has crept up on me. It’s a full month for our family and we started off this month by celebrating my youngest son’s 3rd birthday. He is my April Fools Day baby, which is hilarious in more ways than one.

Like most 3-year-old boys, my son is obsessed with tractors. Tractors all day, every day. He will loudly warn every one in the car to not miss any upcoming tractors that we drive by at least 6 times in one day. We live in a small town, so he has every tractor mapped out and knows them by heart. He is my “all things yellow and green” boy.

So, of course it’s only fitting that this year I made him a tractor cake for his actual birthday.


I used a technique I hadn’t before:  Buttercream Transfer. It turned out okay, not the greatest, but I guess I did pretty well for it being my first try at it. You definitely need a steady hand, and my hand, like this blog, is very impulsive and can be steady one minute and then BAM! I get all cocky and out of nowhere it will shake… ugh! So I guess I had to take a bit longer than normal to get it looking half decent. Everything you see on the cake is edible. I am a firm believer that if you are going to make a cake, people should actually be able to eat it… decor and all.

I made a two layer white small round cake and dyed half of it green and the other half yellow. So the inside matched the outside in color. I layered it with a no-bake cheesecake and crushed up Oreo cookies. I did a basic vanilla buttercream dyed yellow and green. I rolled out Tootsie Rolls and made the fence. I piped “grass” around the fence area. Topped off with a buttercream tractor transfer and a John Deere logo transfer (which I did both by hand).

This cake was a hit!

My son couldn’t stop talking about his tractor cake. Even his last words, before he fell asleep that night, were “Ohhh tractor cake”. Melted my heart. Makes it all worth it. I love baking, but when I see the joy it brings to others, it makes my love for it grow that much more.

I will post more in-depth details about this cake ANNNNND my other cake that will be finished tomorrow. Yes, I am doing another tractor cake for his party, I just can’t resist! Come back to see more pictures, recipes and impulsiveness!

Happy Baking!

I also give advice

8 Jul

I have discovered a new disciplinary action I can take on my “lets ever test mom” fruit from my loin, minions. Actually, It came to me in my “I have to come up with something better” brain storming session.

Well, maybe I can’t use it right now since where we live there aren’t any Seagull’s… but somewhere in the near future I see myself whipping this one out of my “mommy don’t mess around” pants pocket.

Seagull’s are from the Devil himself. I have reason to believe that they do most of his shitty work! {yes! pun intended} If you have lived or do live anywhere near these dreaded things, just move. Or in fact, just write this down under your list of PRO’s for these nasty, hateful doers.

I grew up going to the beaches on the West Coast and nothing scared me more than those damned birds, okay seaweed and floating diapers were a close second, but the birds win it hands down. So why not put a little fear in your kids. It’s healthy. Even if it means they are scared of birds for the rest of their lives {annnd most likely will have to go to hours of therapy because they can’t get the imagine out of their head}, it’s a risk I am willing to take.

I have come up with a very tactful and most highly achievable way to get your kids to listen to you. Say, for instance, little “I wipe my own butt” wasn’t listening to you and nooooooooooooo matter what you did nothing stopped him from finding it OH SOOOO funny to pee in the bathroom soap dispenser {true story}.Well, no more, little “I eat my own boogers because they are salty”, NO MORE! The time to listen to MOM; MASTER OF ALL THINGS, IS NOW!!

Here’s how it can go down:

You pull your child close, just so you and them can hear the words seeping out of your confident, sturdy mouth. You say something like this to them:

“Listen carefully and carefully listen riiiiight now… I am going to give you one more chance to start listening or else boiiiiiiiiii, your butt is going to be on that shore line with a bag of Lays Baked Potato Chips begging to the Lord that those Seagull’s don’t bite your hand off, tooooo fast. I have nooooo problem with letting them peck at your hand until it bleeds or if they are hungry enough, chew it right off. Seagulls marvel at the happiness that they will encounter by little boys who disobey, like you. I. Swear. To. You! You only get ONE. MORE. CHANCE. Or sooooooooooo help me GOD, I will go to Costco and get the variety pack and make you stand out there forrrrrrr HOURS and you just HOPE TO GOD that they have mercy on you because right now, it’s all up to them. Go ahead and test me on that oneeeeeee. If you want to live a future with all your appendages intact, I would listen, and listen NOOOWWWWWWWW! Do you understand?! I hope to God that you do, because those Seagulls have been watching your actions, and they are ready to attack!!!!”

If just the mere telling them this prospected horror doesn’t do the trick, well then ACTUALLY do it. I don’t know about you, but Seagull’s are vicious birds that apparently are high on Potato Chip CRACK {where can I get some?} and will fight to the death for one morsel of salty goodness {can you blame them?}. They scare the crap out of me and I am sure they will put a little fear in your kid.

Use this to your advantage.


You won’t regret it once you see the horror look on your kids face when the creature comes soaring down headed straight at your kids face squawking and screeching. Not just one, but a hundred will catch the attention of your chip-holding disobedient child, and once that happens, the plan has official been put into play. Make it even more interesting for onlookers and draw a circle in the sand and tell your child they can’t leave that circle and that they have to stand there holding out their hands full of chips until all the chips are gone. Once all the chips are gone, pour remaining crumbs in your child’s hand and set your watch to 3 minutes. Why? Because the birds are most aggressive once they find out that the food is almost gone. Threaten to set your timer for a longer period of time if they haven’t learned the lesson yet. Be strong even when your child starts to scream, cry, or bleed, it’s just the sounds and wounds of learning a hard lesson. Be patient.

And, maybe, just for shits and giggles, when you get home, show them the movie The Birds and see if that doesn’t seal the deal on your end.

Just see.

So there you are, say at the store, and little “I-pee-in-soap-dispensers” is acting up again. Merely threaten.

Do I hear seagulls? {hold your hand up to your ear} I believe that they are hungry today! Should we go seeeeeeee? ….. No? Okay, well then knock IT OFF before we magically end up in Seagull Hell!”

Their little heads will remember having Seagulls almost eat them, and they will almost immediately straighten up. I guarantee it. Then in the near future you should be on the path to just having to make Seagull squawking sounds to get them to be reminded of the horror and get in line. It’s really as simple as that.


If you have learned that your child is not scared of Seagulls or birds, the probability of  you watching them get shit on by a couple of birds is hopeful and enjoying, which always makes me feel better about my kids not listening. So either way, it’s a win, win!!!! Winning!


Warning: please take my parenting advice with a grain of salt, in fact, take it with a grain of salty booger.
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