It's basically a place to vent about all the stupid people and things that have ticked you off for the week. I admit it. I'm pretty blunt and honest in real life. May have even been called a bitch once or twice. In my blog, I usually try and be happy and chipper. But the gloves are off today.
1. To the "Anonymous" comments that I got last night, accusing me of being unoriginal, a thief, and that I copied an idea and didn't provide credit.
First was my vintage sign. I provided a link to the tutorial I used. Am I supposed to comb the internet, searching for every single vintage sign someone might have ever done, and provide a link? Seriously? I provided a link to the one I used and have bookmarked, get over yourself. I can't possibly remember every single vintage sign I've seen. I did what I could. Bite me.
Second was my "Grandma" vinyl piece. Apparently I stole the idea. Yes, I stole the idea of ordering something from a well known website, buying something from a thrift store, and putting it on there and putting mod podge on top of it. Sorry, I didn't know you patented the idea. Forgive me for not linking to the 6.7 million mod podge projects out there. My bad. I believe you had the nerve to say "Shame on you." Again, bite me.
And third, apparently my button help post was crap and I don't know what I'm talking about. Sorry for sharing something on my blog that helped at least 2 other people. It's what works for me. I'm following all the rules of Blogland etiquette i.e. linking, credit, etc. It's MY blog. If I want to post pictures of my feet and talk about a booger that I dug out, I can do that. Again, MY blog.
Oh, and my name is Jennifer. Am I unoriginal because you know someone else with the same name? There are no original ideas anymore. And "inspired" doesn't mean stolen. Especially when I post a link to my inspiration.
Don't like it? There is a little red X on the top corner of your webpage. Click it. And piss off while you're at it. I HATE keyboard commandos. And posting it under "Anonymous"? Really? Put your big girl panties on. There is a button at the bottom of the page where you can send me an email. It even has a really cute penguin on it. Might make you feel less bitter. So I changed my comment settings to where only registered users can comment. I've received
2. To CSN. I hate you. I know, all bloggers are supposed to love CSN. I mean, you see all of these posts where people talk about how great they are, "wow, check out this great swingset!", blah blah blah. This isn't one of those posts. I've won two giveaways in the past couple of weeks. One for a $20 credit, one for a $25. And my blogging BFF Lesley gave me another code for $25. Yeah, so I'm thinking "woo-hoo, I have $70 to spend there!" But nah. nope! You can't use more than one code per order. Which I think is CRAP. But fine, whatever. I start looking for some new boots, figuring that I'll cover the difference. EVERY. SINGLE. PAIR that I like is out of stock. Seriously? One or two pairs, I understand. But all of them? And I'm talking 20 or 30 pairs that I would have bought. I finally was able to find a horse statue thingy, a finial, and a blanket that I liked, and it cost me $18 out of pocket. But I still hate you CSN. I won't be ordering from you. Ever. And I like to online shop. Why do you brag that you have over 200 stores? I'd rather you have 4 stores, and actually have shit in stock.
3. To my saliva. Yes, I said my saliva. Apparently it's on the acidic side, so regardless of how well I take care of my teeth, I always end up with cavities. Which make me feel dirty, like I've been brushing my teeth with sugar and gargling with soda. And yeah, that huge tax return that we just got? Going towards my dentist. I told hubby that I'd rather just get a new pair of shoes, but he wasn't having it.
4. To the little teeth coming thru Ava's gums. Yes, I'm sure you're adorable. And I understand your purpose. But you make my baby crabby and hate me and scream in my ear, regardless of anything I do to try and help. When hubby got home last night, I drank a margarita in your honor. Apparently
walking around while bouncing her and trying to entertain her
her screaming for hours at me no matter what I did
a major headache
a strawberry margarita.
That's called Mommy math.