Opinions are like A-holes

AKA – you’re an a-hole.

I love quotes. Browse through my Pinterest “Quotable” Board and you’ll find a wide range of quotes, sayings, and words.

One quote or saying that I’ve been thinking a lot about lately is the one that goes something like “opinions are like a-holes, everyone has one” ? Well, my God. If that ain’t the truth.

Maybe I’m just being sensitive but it seems that everyone I encounter lately feels the need to express shove their unwanted opinion down my throat. On any topic, anywhere, any time. I feel like I can’t have my own thoughts or ideas without being ridiculed for them.

Real Housewives Beverly Hills

I’m very opinionated. I have my quirks – no doubt about it. I can go on and on about certain topics like a broken record but I can usually realize when I need to shut up (unless I’m full of Miller Lite.)

I won’t purposely be-little you for disagreeing with me. I probably won’t think less of you either. I won’t try to convince you that plain cheese pizza is the best (which it is) when you’re a meat lover fan. Why? Because it’s pointless. And honestly, it doesn’t really matter (and.. it leaves more plain cheese for me.)

Don’t get me wrong, I think that everyone is entitled to their opinion. And I respect an individuals right to express themselves, their views and beliefs.  But rude unsolicited advice/opinions/remarks are unnecessary. Don’t preach YOUR views just to tear down someone else’s

I can’t understand people who make it their life mission to disagree with you. You know that other saying: “Can we just agree to disagree?” Yeah, these people don’t know how to that so it feels like you are constantly beating your head against a wall of rusty nails.

So what is the solution? How do we deal with these people?

Dance Moms Wrong Opinion



Don’t Look Under The Bed


We all have them, correct? Or at least I’d like to think so. One could assume that we’d grow out of these fears after a while (aka after 25+ years..) Right? Well, wrong. For some reason the darkness and things hiding under my bed still scare me. There is no rhyme or reason for it. I’ve never had a traumatic experience with either. Until last night.

I went about my night time routines, got into PJ’s and hopped into bed (yes, I have to actually hop because we have a king-sized platform bed). I laid there for a couple seconds trying to get comfortable and then I heard a weird scratching/rustling noise under the bed.

I froze.  Tried to be as still as possible. Listened carefully for the noise to repeat. Hoping I just  imagined it.

*Rustle* *Scratch* *Bump*

I have spent YEARS dreading this exact moment and it was finally happening.

Obviously my first logical adult thought was “MONTSTER!!!”

Then I thought well maybe an animal got into the house.. we do kind of live in the country. Or maybe the cat brought an animal in! She’s been an evil little psycho lately.. so maybe it’s one of her little prisoners. Hopefully a cute little chipmunk or baby bunny…

or maybe it’s a rabid flesh eating vampire zombie .

After a couple seconds of these random thoughts, I worked up the courage to crawl to the end of the bed and reluctantly peer over the edge to see…

.. a small black puppy tail sticking out.

Apparently Bailey has found a new hiding spot for her toys and rawhides.

So I guess the moral of this story is to stop being such a wuss. And to check under the bed for monsters and puppies from now on..

Sincerely & Sarcastically,



You’d think after writing multiple “first posts” they’d get easier. But obviously that is not the case since I’m struggling trying to figure out what I want to say.
I’ve tried to blog many times in recent years. I get the itch to write, or create something so I hop online and start messing around with blogger only to quit a few days/weeks later because I have no idea what I’m doing.
Not sure what I’m hoping to accomplish with this, but I guess we’ll find out.