"CONFUSING YOURSELF IS A WAY TO STAY HONEST"

I wanted to write a blog post about how from a young age I've sympathized with women who kill their husbands but then I reconsidered it because that kind of thing might get this popsicle stand piccolo in a lot of trouble ! Maybe I'm paranoid because last week I posted a picture of my dad on facebook and he got supar mad at me. He was sitting in this reclining chair that he sits in with a tv remote, a small bowl of chanachur and some scotch. My mom was in the kitchen doing something near the sink and there was probably some Mitt Romney v Obama shit in the air because of the tv. Maybe I got girlchild issues but something about this reads a bit like the non-calm before a domestic violence episode, no? My dad had recently been sporting this blue shirt and so I captioned the pic "Spotted: a smurf in his natural habitat." I guess I made a joke of it because sometimes I want to bond with the same person who once tried to make me feel bad about buying tampons in front of him. I showed him the picture being like 'lololo dad' and immediately he got sososososo mad at me - which is a good male chauvinisty way of reminding your daughter that *you* get to make the decision about what is fun and what is scarymisery. Partially I felt bad and respectful of his anger so I took it down. He yelled at me saying that, "Fun is for inside the home!" and I mean lez be real what's more fun inside the home than that disciplinary moment when family fun becomes Awful Hopeless Never-Ending Labyrinth of an Evening Inside the Home? This isn't even like fun on opposite day. To ride the waves of my cyber dwelling, I think it might be a sort of time machine sadness. Looks like this blawg is getting very eeyore today, hmmm? Not having as much Hajmola Chewing Fun inside the home, you say?? Well - to invoke something Kuzhali Manickavel once hashtagged - #chee on your face if you thought that hajmola chewing was actually a fun thing to do because this blog post is not really about fun (and it's definitely not about killing dudez). 

"Children are getting their parents in trouble through Facebook! What if your brother becomes President?"


^another something that was said to me during smurf pic wincident. 'What If Your Brother Becomes President' must be the most aggressively boring prediction ever and I think it is suppose to somehow control my reckless girlchild behavior which is very hehehe. I feel inclined to use valley gyrl swag when talking about it because gender struggles between brown peoples can be sooooo complicated especially if one is tired of giving elegant psychological fux about how brown men benefit from the oppression of brown women. It seems like difficult questions about compromise are tew ~feminine energy~ when the more controlling question is Waddif Like Your Brother Becomes President?? I am suppose to feel bad about messing up my brother's non-existent illustrious career and for that reason this blog is totes not one of those blogs that sympathizes with women who defend themselves. Maybe it is like the lying-naked-on-the-floor natalie imbruglia version of a misandry blog. slow death = ± defeat ± defeat ± defeat


And tbh I didn't really know how to do the topic that this blog post is definitely not about any justice. Probably because killin dudes is not really a basis for comparison. Again, to irresponsibly quote Tavia Nyong'o: "it is less a question of choosing failure killing men than choosing what to do with the failure gratuitous bullshit that has chosen us." I almost deleted this post because of other dilemmas that came up when I was writing about definitely not writing about it.  I've once again 'disloyally' re-presented my father which means that even when it comes to power dynamics, his legacy is getting more mic time than the relationship between me and my mother. Which btw is not analogous even though I just framed it like it was. Friendly reminder that you shouldn't try an double check the math in any equations I use on this blog. I will not feel disappointed by a grim popsicle stick joke that was frontin like it could be mathy. I will just laugh really horrendo in your face like someone who doesn't care about mastering how to write a blog post about--