I figured I’d put my lil New Year’s list in writing, so I don’t forget…as long as it doesn’t have geography involved, I probably won’t, but just in case…
1. Keep smoking.
Fuck it, I work in a hothouse environment people. Potential clients ring me up in chat where I can’t see them, can’t hear them, and then I have to perform, Johnny on the spot. Not only do I have to perform, but I have to be absolutely 100% RIGHT…no pressure, my ass! Hence, my back porch respiratory treatments shall continue. After all I know we have more than one live to live, heh heh.
2. Keep cursing, online only if possible.
Hey, when you have five sons who don’t have potty mouths like you do, you have to have a outlet. Therefore, as often as possible I shall continue to curse liberally in this blog, on im, board posts, and with clients..most of them enjoy doing the same thing, as they have kids too. Let sailor mouth rule in 2009!
3. No exercise.
Listen, I’ve lost 50lbs, working my way to 60lbs. Most of this was through exercise, but now I’m going with a diet where I can eat shit food when I like, if only within a certain calorie window. If I want a goddamn snicker bar, I’m gonna eat it, even if I starve the rest of the day, dammit! Exercise only contributed to me screaming in the middle of the night as cramps ripped through my calves. Face it, that disrupted my household. I intend to die with a hershey’s with almonds in one hand, and a pepsi in the other…well I might drop the pepsi when the heart attack hits, but I’ll go out with a chocolate smeared smile on my face!
4. No tact allowed…ever.
I’m not known for my tact, if I have any, which my family and friends seriously doubt. When I say I don’t fucking sugarcoat, I mean it. Therefore, if your beloved is a total asshole, I’ll be the first to call it. So, on the radio show, with clients, in daily life…if you even suspect your ass looks huge in those pants, avoid me like the plague I can be, even if I gave birth to you….no, especially if I gave birth to you.
5. Keep talking to dead people.
Face it, lots of people who are alive are boring as hell, whereas the dead always have something cool to show me or say. They do have a weird tendency to pile up coins in my house, fill my washer with water, and you know, the whole lights flickering, shit falling stuff, but that makes life interesting, and I like life to be interesting. So, dead chick wants to talk while I’m taking a dump…I’m all outta magazines, talk away!
6. Make oldest son listen.
It’s amazing how often I’ve been proven 100% correct with regards to my 20 year old’s love life, and his life in general. The little shit still doesn’t listen. Therefore, as his ass is MINE now, having moved back into my house after a messy trip away from the nest, I shall browbeat his ass at every opportunity. If I have to shove his visually impaired face into my laptop screen so he can see my ratings and feedback, well then…that’s just a added little bonus, isn’t it?
7. Announce on my blog I’m not a pregnancy test.
I can’t tell when you are going to conceive, because then I would have to watch you have sex….and that’s something I’m just not kinky enough to like. I often wonder if male psychics who have remote viewing abilities forgo porn to watch ppl screwing…hmmm, will have to find someone and ask. Speaking of kinky, I don’t function as a pregnancy test, so don’t piss on me when I can’t tell you when your little bundle of joy will head your way, it won’t help.
8. Make Suzanne and/or David James piss themselves laughing..preferably on air.
I’ve gotten very close to making my co host Suzanne on Psychically Correct piss herself. I need to increase my stamina so I can continue barraging her with hilarious and very sick images til she finally does the deed. Lucky for me, Suzanne is spunky enough to admit when it finally happens, and that shall be a day that lives in infamy, for me at least. David James of psychic-wisdom.net is a stoic Scot who will be appearing on January 13th’s show, and I shall do my damndest to make him crack up on air. I’ll settle for a little anal leakage, if he can’t manage to piss himself. Whether he would admit such a thing is up in the air, but I’m going to hope for the best in 09, so don’t let me down, David.
9. Have more guests on Psychically Correct.
This one’s simple. There is nothing I love better than seeing people who nurture and support other people get down and dirty with me on air. There is something perverse in that, I’m sure, but I don’t care….it only goes to show some of us psychics have potty mouths, and killer senses of humor..which gee, means we are actual people, instead of the freaks we are purported to be (ok, I am a freak, but I enjoy it immensely because I’ve got no tact, see resolution 4).
10. Force my husband to get a goddamn pedicure.
Look, it’s cute when you first get married to clip your man’s toenails and give him little foot massages, but by year ten or so, it gets really old. Maybe because his toenails, while soft and supple in the beginning, are now more like bullets propelled out of a gun when I clip them, which has turned me into a paranoid chick who ducks whenever I hear something sharp crack. I also duct tape my mouth and one nostril closed, while keeping one eye closed and averting my face when I clip his toenails. That I have to file the cracks that have appeared in his heels over the years down has started to affect my mental health. I really don’t care if I have to rent a forklift, strap him to it, and drive him in for a pedicure, I just know I need to get there before my mind, like his heels, is totally cracked.