Yams (sweet potatoes, not the African ACTUAL yams) baked in the microwave, then broiled in the oven with butter and salt and pepper, are the best thing ever.
Asexual, Autistic, Female.
Writing is a wave-form on a sea of pearls.
Be florid and concise, brief and alive.
Instinct, like the man said.
Joined on 1/24/10
Posted by TardisCowStartler - 2 weeks ago
LOL! I mean, does anyone else get that way at random points of the day when you think of your situation OR NOT, like it's hormonal or something? I know my uh 'father' yelled insanely at us over something HE misinterpreted last night for like, three or four hours; it's what he does. Then he blames you for screaming at him to stop because:
A. your mother has heart disease; he sure cares a lot about his wife, doesn't he? O.o
B. He's had several strokes and literally the only thing that stops him is screaming in his ear. Words, ANY words, DO. NOT. Help. He is psycho when you tell him calmly to stop. YOU CAN't TELL ME WHAT TO DO. No shit that's what he says.
C. This is what he has done to us for 35 years. I can't work, so I can't leave. FUUUUUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
D. Doctors don't believe me. I feel that. Really, I mean, who would? He's just so fucking NICE to THEM. And people FLOCK to this man, no shit. EVERY woman in a ten mile radius. Once they interact with him, they just want to chat him up all day long. He's such a big teddy bear, yeah? ARGH. Yeah he's REAL nice at home. The bastards have called me paranoid. So there goes any help from any OTHER doctors, becuase once the big P shows up in your file? BOOM. you are ignored.
E. His counselor, which we FINALLY got him to find and see, claims he's not Autistic, but he just has ADHD. LOLWUT? He's practically a POSTER CHILD for it. I have a diagnosis for myself. I know what I'm about, damn it. IF he doesn't have it, he's pretty damn close. HE misses every inflection, can't hear worth a damn (we're trying to find the money for the hearing aids he finally realized he needed after SOMEONE ELSE told him- he won't listen to us) Can't remember shit you tell him, yada yada. Poor bastard. Poor. ABUSIVE. Bastard. He claims we abuse him, when we are defendig against his crazy the only way that works, by calling him every damn name we can think of and screaming our heads off because NOTHING ELSE STOPS HIS FUCKING RAMPAGE. Believe me, there is little we haven't tried. He does NOT respond to the normal techniques most people would. He just gets MADDER.
F. He's lucky he doesn't hit us, or I woudl be on his ass with a bat like flies on shit. Or msybe bare-handed; I'm game. I can fight, unlike my mother who just cowers in the corner because she can't handle anything anymore.
I care for him, but we can't deal with this. And both parents are old. Like, 60s and 70s. he has been doing this since before I was alive. Not cool. And it needs to end. Nobody seems to believe me or give a fuck.
G. No shit, I called the cops on his ass once; he MADE FRIENDS WIHT THE FUCKING COPS, like it was a god damn social visit, kept obliviously trying to Impress Them wiht the fact his brother was a sheriff in another state. OMG. WTF?
H. nobody wants to explain anything about this to me. Like they dont wnt to t ouch it and I am really... quite pissed about authority's lack of response to this.
I. We can't think well enough long enough to get anything done really because he's ALWAYS GOING OFF. He cannot face his problem and runs from it. Every. Time. And the apologies are worse; either they are sarcastic or he goes right back to yelling five minutes after if you DARE to tell him to leave you alone afterward. HA. Dickhead.
J. And, guess what? WE JUST GOT TWO NEW BEAUTIFUL PUPPIES IN FEBRUARY, becuaes my mohter magically thought that him going to a counselor nad the doctor putting him on... citalopram.... would ACTUALLY WORK.
K. Two of our dogs died earlier, and we used our (Federal, I think?) tax refund to get the pup-pups, who are the most beautiful, loving, wonderful dogs you could imagine. WE needed these two furbabies in our lives. But I worry for them, becuase of him. How dare he do that to them? Not. Pleased. I get feral about abuse. Exceedingly so. And I will NOt apologize.
L. One night, he jumped up out of his chair at my latest imagined slight and looked so angry and hateful I literally thought he was gonna kill me. I thought I was going to die. AFter that, I wanted to kill him, to save us. I do not anymore, because I found the strength to get past those feelings. But he still goes after my mother like that. Almost every day. He punched the wall and broke his hand one time. This can't continue. I told my former psychologist about it, my feelings, all of it... this psychologist whom I had gone to see becaude I wanted to know if I was autistic, and he just... did. NOTHING. Asshole. I feel like he thouht I was lying. Mom even told him waht happened and he just... did. NOTHING. WHY? I woudl give ANYTHING to know WHY no one wants to help us. WE did NOTHING to deserve that.
Anyway... I do love him, but I don't have to take this from him and neither does she. WE should never have had to.
He's uh... special. And well, that did it. kind of. But I feel kinda okay today. hopefully it won't hit like it usually does after one of his runs. IS anyone else like that? I keep wondering if some of mine is hormonal... fucking ovaries. ;))) (sometimes before my period I have whiteout-inducing pain, or an odd twisting sensation in my ovaries)
I am sitting here laughing right now becaues it's just so fucking ludicrous. He gets every friend ever and we are just left... out in the cold, like always. no matter how kind or nice we are. Our moeny, which we've never had a lot of, is tied up... so, haha.
Shikata ga nai.
Posted by TardisCowStartler - December 11th, 2018
One of my comedy fanfic drabbles, a NuWho/Scooby Doo/Golden Girls crossover. Because I can. I guess I'm using this for possible (currently free as I have no bank account) commissions, since I picked it for that and all. So, yeah, I do rough writing, script-look-overs, etc. I don't actually write scripts, as I haven't written one since middle school; that one was a joke script for a partnered assignment.
Basically, it was:
Three 1700s-ish philosophers walk into a Krispy Kreme's.
Anyway, yeah, I'll look over your existing work and see if the wording makes sense, mood, tone, suggestions in that area. Nothing fancy. Anywho, here ya go.
FIVE NIGHTS AT BETTY'S.
The Doctor reached out of the closet and pulled Daphne in with her, shutting them both in.
Daphne yelped, but the Doctor stuffed her hand in the girl’s mouth and whispered harshly, “Rassilon’s sakes don’t screech! You’ll only bring her round again and then where will we be?”
Daphne wibbled and moaned, then relaxed in the Doctor’s grip.
“But Doctor! What about Fred and Scooby? And Velma?”
The Doctor narrowed her eyes and added, “…forgot somebody, didn’ ya?”
Daphne blinked, thinking.
In the kitchen, a wobbly voice screamed, “Like, help me Scoob! Rose Nyland has an ice cream scoop!”
Posted by TardisCowStartler - November 9th, 2018
I want a hysterectomy for Christmas
Yes only a hysterectomy will do
The blackouts are a drag; the pain it likes to lag
I want a hysterectomy like yesterday it’s true
I want a hysterectomy for Christmas
Surely a doctor daren’t say boohoo
No need to be so rough, or give me lots of guff
To properly address the sitch
Just cut or I will sue
Posted by TardisCowStartler - November 5th, 2018
Every. Time. It. Rains. Or. Turns. To. Night. Or Turns to Fall. Or Winter. Or Someone Yells. Or. confronts. Me. I. Get. Crazy. Depressed. And. Anxious. This. Is. Bullshit. I've. Been. Like. This. For. Every. One. Of. My. 35. Years. And. It. Never. Gets. Better. Antidepressants. Do. Nothing. but. Take. Away. My. Remaining. Impetus. And. Make. Me. Fat. What. The. Fuck. Every. Goddamn. Night. FUUUUUUUU-