My Birthday SUCKS

I have successfully inched my way this [ ] much closer to thirty this week. Go me. Woo. For my birthday, I got earrings, a call from the school social worker about my son's "impulse control issues", and a speeding ticket. Fucker actually smirked and said "Happy Birthday" as he walked away from my car.




Some sadistic age progression that I did online about 6 months ago. I thought it was funny and ridiculous at the time, but at the rate I'm fucking up, I'll be a stewed prune in no time.







Let's just add this to the list of ways that K has fucked up in the last 2 years.

• Speeding ticket: check
• Lack of real job: check
• Lapsed gym membership: check
• Misbehaving heathen children: check
• Debt: check
• Generally poor & pessimistic attitude: check-a-ROOOOOOO, bitches

My silver lining has turned into tarnished piece of costume jewelry. Fuck everything.

On the up side, I now have a Google search box of my very own, which I find to be pretty fucking cool...but then I'm easily amused, so that's not really saying much. You can search the web or my blog with a simple click of the rodent.


I think my site accrues about .0006 cents per Google search, but I don't really care about that. I just wanted my own Google box. I don't get enough hits to even finance a latte at that rate, so don't feel obligated. I just think it adds some color.

EDIT:

Ok, I just thought of something noble. If I do end up ever making any money off of the hits, I will donate 100% of the proceeds to autism research. It's a cause near and dear to my heart, and if I can toss them a couple of bucks from the hits of the crazy bastards who actually bother with my blog, then that's fantastic.

Hey, even a $5 donation can buy a little kid a ticket to the zoo or a Happy Meal...and who knows, if I attract enough minions to the dark side of the sKWeez, maybe we could send them some real dough.

"That giant fruit
threatens us all..."