Sunday, April 28, 2013

Did Charles Schultz kill a Peanuts child? The life and times of Charlotte Braun.

When I was a very tiny tot, I used the comics in the newspaper as a way to better my ability to read. I remember at just-turned-four being very proud of myself for reading an entire Beetle Bailey strip by myself AND understanding the war related humor.

It shouldn't be a surprise that I also read The Peanuts. When I became serious about being a cartoonist, I drew (pun not intended) inspiration after reading a book by Charles Schultz, about his struggles with being accepted in the world of cartooning. Every time I've had a rejection letter sent my way, I remember his struggles getting into the newspaper, and stop feeling sorry for myself.

But around the time that I was learning to read AND understand bigger and bigger strips (I was probably the only toddler following Doonesbury and Bloom County) I started noticing that many of the comic strip characters started popping up on TV specials. Family Circus, For Better or for Worse, Garfield, Dennis the Menace and of course, The Peanuts gang, didn't just have TV shows, they had specials. And some of them were unsettling.

In 1990's "Why Charlie Brown Why" Linus befriends a little blonde girl named Janice, who has cancer. Pretty hefty stuff for kids' television. She comes close to dying, but ends up going into remission.... but then she never appears again. She's never spoken of again, never even appears in background scenes, and her ultimate fate is left to your imagination. This little episode garnered me a depressing and morbid view into the minds of those involved with Peanuts, and started making me question things.

Now for years, I've always just accepted that some of the kids in Charlie's life just move away, but I do have a morbid curiosity (thank you Disney >_O) with children's cartoons, and I started to wonder, did any of them die?

After all, Doonesbury has always been quick to kill characters, as has Dick Tracy and Funky Winkerbean. And Charles Schultz once voiced his angry disapproval, when the cartoonist behind For Better or for Worse had beloved dog Farley die, trying to save April, my least favorite character. (As a tween, I secretly hoped that it was April meeting her end instead of the dog. Probably not my finest hour reading the newspaper.) But could he have been a hypocrite when it comes to sketching the death of a comic strip character?

Well the firm answer is YES.

On November 30, 1954, Charlie Brown met up with a sassy little girl named Charlotte Braun.
Charlotte Braun was a loudmouth, who couldn't control the volume of her voice. Charlie Brown even remarks in one strip "She's the only girl I know who has a built-in High-Fidelity speaker" after a short exchange with her, left him wincing. 
Little did anybody know that her tenth ever appearance in the February 1, 1955 Peanuts strip... would be her final appearance alive....

Other children shunned her, because she was just too loud. Linus would hide under his blanket to avoid her. She was also bossy, rude and a bit of a bully, not unlike Lucy, who at the time still had a limited vocabulary, and was far younger than Charlie. Many readers disliked her. She was too serious, too brash, far too harsh for the series at that point.

Charlotte's loudmouth antics also peeked the ire of a reader named Elizabeth Swaim.

Elizabeth and her friends bombarded Charles Schultz with hate letters about Charlotte Braun. Elizabeth was the loudest voice among her group, pleading for an end to this little girl.

But as the hate letters were rolling in (Charles already had a second batch from unrelated people, many claiming to be in his business, insisting he would never be a "real" cartoonist and should hang it up now) Schultz realized that he was out of ideas for Charlotte Braun. All of the jokes he wanted to tell had been told, and he had already decided to age Lucy, and consolidate some of Charlotte Braun's mannerisms into Lucy, starting with the plain, blue dress.

So finally, having had enough of the letters about her, Charles sent Elizabeth a very dark letter:

                                                                                                               Jan, 5, 1955
Dear Miss Swain,
       I am taking your suggestion regarding Charlotte Braun and will eventually discard her. Remember, however, that you and your friends will have the death of an innocent child on your conscience. Are you prepared to accept such responsibility?

Thanks for writing, and I hope that future releases will please you.
Sincerely,
Charles M. Schultz


He ended the letter with a new drawing of little Charlotte Braun, standing straight up on a grassy plain, looking very sad... with an ax, firmly placed deep inside of her skull.
Charlotte was about five or six at the time of her death, and being murdered made her very sad.

Her final appearance wouldn't be run until the following month, but Schultz had drawn the "High-Fidelity" strip at the same time he wrote this letter. With that said, there is a mystery as to who gave her the ax exactly, the world famous cartoonist Charles Schultz? Or was it Charlie Brown, just tired of this loudmouth following him everywhere, shattering his eardrums for her own, sick amusement.

But then she also had no control over her voice, making her death even worse, as this could have been her disability.

With that said, Charles Schultz killed a special needs Peanuts child off, just to make a women he did not know, shut up.

And shut up she did.

Two months after Schultz died in 2000, she donated the letter to the Smithsonian. As ABC reported:


“I am now enrolled in a hospice and do not expect to live much longer—and want to place what might loosely be called my treasures,” Swaim wrote. “...I would not be sending the letter until somewhat closer to my death, but I’d like to save my executor the trouble of disposing of it.”

Swaim died of cancer three weeks later, at the age of 66. Her younger sister, Kathleen Swaim, said that the framed response had hung in Elizabeth Swain’s bathroom.

“She was very pleased that he had answered,” Kathleen Swaim recalled. Elizabeth Swaim went on to become librarian of rare books and archivist at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn. Her first library job, ironically, had been at the Library of Congress.

But for the rest of her days, she had it hung over her head, that she was responsible for the death of a child in Peanuts. Friends, family, total strangers researching the little Peanuts character would be told of Charlotte's final days, and how Elizabeth's letters ended a member of Charlie Brown and Snoopy's team.

And now for the rest of eternity, the letter and envelope Schultz sent her are on display at the Smithsonian. Her family's descendants will forever be reminded of who killed Charlotte Braun.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

A Toe Up Day

Alright, so to recap, in the span of seven days, I've had a flood, cracks in my house's foundation, the city setting the date for the sale of my house, (now they can't decide between making it a Wal*Mart or another strip mall) frogs, toads, ants, a fight with the neighbors involving attack dogs and 6-8 year olds who drink and get high, my father bitching at me and his batshit girlfriend trying to convince me that Smurfs are a part of her soul.

But why stop there?

So as you can see in the video, I tried to hide it, but I do have psoriasis and a tinge of eczema, which are non-contagious and highly annoying auto-immune diseases. Now I tried to treat it by myself with over the counter remedies, but nothing worked. If anything it spread, so I went to see a doctor at a brand new clinic, just a mile up from my house. It's in a strip mall, just about the size of a hallway, and shares parking with the Chipotle, Five Guys and a tiny shoe store. Totally safe, right?

The entire visit didn't even last five minutes. A tiny woman from India really quickly gave me an examination from a distance with a pen, and jotted down my prescription. Seeing me in severe pain, she says "I want to give you a blood screening, but you have no insurance my darling! So this is all I can do." I never got her name. (That's not bad, right?)

Well the prescription strength Benadryl that took me for freaking ever to obtain, combined with a cream and a second pill worked a miracle. I stopped looking like Elmo and started looking like a regular person again. The next time I saw her, I only had a few small spots on my arm.

... Then 68 hours into the first blog link I posted, I get three new spots. So naturally I call the doctor.

She says she'll call in a prescription for me for an antibiotic cream. Did you know that stress and mold spore contact are both BAD things for psoriasis? Weeee.

So I figure that I'll get the cream and that will be that.

This morning I woke up to an interesting phonecall from my pharmacy.

They had a "glitch" with my prescription.

Guess what?

I don't have a doctor anymore.

Apparently she "went away" and don't work there anymore. They couldn't even verify if she was a real doctor. Awesomesauce.

Well stress and figuring out how a doctor could "go away" in the span of two weeks... kind of makes me hungry. So I took a walk to Walgreen's to pick up dinner. Along the way, I stopped at the car dealership that sold my mom a lemon of a Buick:

How that place stays in business I have no idea. But I saw they have a new car for sale:
Complete with bungee cords holding the bumper on.

 Sealed shut bottle of Spic n' Span in the drink compartment.

Those are USED boxers under that sign.

More used underwear.

Next to the car shop are a comic shop and a pizza place ~ both just went out of business the other day.

Moving is going to be awesome.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

I think Jerry Springer knows my neighbors.

This post is going to have plenty of fowl language and bold text. Reader discretion is advised.

The following is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the stupid.

Dialogue is taken verbatim.

So picking up from my last blog, I never got my Indiana Government approved mop and bucket. My neighbors are still on the waiting list for theirs, and may not receive any until the end of May. My house is now much drier, but my mom discovered cracks in the foundation. I'm no house inspector, but I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing. Ah well, at least it's a bright and sunny day, and the weather is really nice, so really, what more can I ask for?

.... How about new neighbors? Yeah that would be rad.

Behind my house is an alley, where the entire cast of Jerry Springer circa 1998 lives. Which is funny, since I legit live four blocks down from a couple that really were on an episode of Jerry Springer. This was back when Jerry took cameras to peoples' houses, and there is an episode where he showed up, and his crew videotaped a brawl between two sisters fighting over the man they loved... who was also their cousin. It's both sad and thrilling to say "My neighbors were on Jerry Springer" and it's so true too.

Behind my house are three houses, crammed together really closely. Chain-link fences, yards full of old garbage, half empty pools, dilapidated garages, and each one is owned by a half dressed couple with about 3-5 children, under the age of 8. And each child has pockets full of little fireworks, cherry bombs, snappers, and the ring leader has a Budweiser bottle, lovingly strapped to his bike by dear old Daddy. I shit you not.

These are the people who've been getting drunk on and around my property the last few years I've lived here, and have some pretty mean dogs.

Now granted, these beasts are not as dangerous as Maria's Hell Beasts, but this is the third chain-link fence the neighbors have needed in two years. I was outside the day one of the dogs bent a fence almost completely open, as he was barking at me.

Generally, I adore dogs of all breeds ...It's just badly trained dogs and their dumbshit owners I can't stand.

So today I get up to take the trash out. But maybe I should have seen a mirror before I did that?

I was still in my pajamas, my hair was a wreck, and because the ground is still damp, I walked out in pink with blue polka-dotted galoshes. All I was missing was a pair of goggles and a fanny pack, and my Crazy Nut Freak costume would have been complete. Considering where this story is going, I can't decide if my Saturday Morning Cartoons attire works to my benefit or not.

So I head outside, feeling purdy an like I looks guuuud, and I put the trash into the trash bin. A novel concept really. Keeping trash inside of a trash can, it's a shame not many people here believe in not polluting.

Suddenly, the three dogs all zip out, bending the fences and barking like mad. And let me say that there's nothing quite like an early morning heart attack to start the day right. The tallest of the dogs at four feet in length, starts using his paws to leverage himself up, and he almost succeeds in climbing the damn fence for the second time since it was installed.

I don't know. Maybe fear brings out the worst in me. Fear and stress. Usually I either race back inside the house or I try using a few dog calls I learned in Kindergarten. Things like "sit" and "nice doggie" but instead of my usual polite fear, I took a deep breath, and released a very loud and commanding.....

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

All three dogs went "Yipe!!" and ran straight to their equally frightened owners.

With that I slammed the gate shut, erroneously thinking that this mess was done for today. When suddenly a group of kids start poking the fence, with one being so brave as to try and jump it.

"HEY!! I can see yew. I heard yew scream shut the fack up. It's not funny."

I don't know why they do this, but my neighbors and their kids speak with a very fake Virginia-New Jersey accent. It's probably the most annoying, self-racist, fake accent a person of Caucasian descent could have. What bothers me the most is that the entire lot of them were born and raised in Illinois and Indiana, and have boasted openly before about never even having traveled as far as (and I quote) "the far away country of Minnesota" so where did these accents come from??

Worse? You can hear them trying to have a "Chi-KAH-go" accent underneath. Want to see someone have a jaw workout? Ask them to say "milk". The fake Jerseyginia accent fights with the "Kahgo" one, producing the word "Mwaaaaaaaaahlk", it's rather hilarious to see them make a fool of themselves with dairy product.

Whatever. I see the kids poking and hanging on my fence.

So I storm over to the fence and rip the door open. "What you say to me BOY??"

The children hop onto scooters and the Bud Bike, and start speeding. I turn the corner, just as they make it halfway down the alley, only for them to stop, and check to see if I'm still back here.

"KEEP runnin' BOY!!" I boom. I am in no mood for this.

The children speed off.

Suddenly, all of the other Squidbillies pop over to bat at the fences. Here's a good shot of where this is going, I'll let you decide which one is me:
"Excuse you, what is yer problem?" Says a fat woman in a hoodie, hot pants, greasy hair, an ankle tattoo of a melted butterfly and no shoes, with again, a very fake and self-racist accent.

"Those kids were on my property!" I snap. I've learned that small words work best, but "property" is one of a handful of large words they seem to understand.

"They only did that because you were being mean to to these poor, defenseless dogs! You deserve it!" As she's reading me the Peta act, the dog jumps the fence and starts barking too loud for me to hear her. Soon the other over 30 year olds start barking with the dogs, so without hesitation, I bellow:

SHUT THE MUTHAFUCKIN' HELL UP!!

Two dogs bow their heads in shame, one runs to his porch and barks from there. In the distance, I spot two very small children, looking to their elder siblings, and in baby voices I hear "Fuck? Fuck? Fuck? Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck Fuck!! Motha Fuck!!" in a Jay and Silent Bob approved moment, while another child from across the street yells "HEY!! I didn't know Madea lived here?" I have been told that when I am pissed, I tend to sound like I belong on BET.

So of course I got the "you've got some nerve" speech, which is followed by another neighbor, Butterball.

Butterball, all 5'7 and 479 lbs. of him, comes out in a stained wifebeater and Old Navy shorts. Why he just has to have his two cents wafting in my direction too.

"Do yew even understand mah dwogs?" He says in a threatening tone.

"Apparently not, sir. Otherwise I wouldn't be screaming at them to shut the fuck up!!"

Lemme ask you if this argument sounds familiar? "These dogs is trained to protect our property, so when they see a burglur, they is trained tew bark real loud to scare away IN-trudurs." And yes folks, he said that as though somewhere exists a group of out-truders.

"I'm not on your fucking property!! I'm on MY property, taking out MY trash into MY can!!" I seriously can't believe he tried the "protecting my property" speech on me.

"Well they saw yew, and YEW scared 'em, and they was thinklin' yer probably gonna steal from MAH house!!"

By the way, he's three houses down from me. So there's enough of a distance to fit two to three cars from where my footses were placed, to his fence.

"FROM HERE???? *stamps feet* FROM HEEEEEEEEEEERE??? I'm a good several feet from your property, how the fuck am I supposed to steal diddly SHIT from your house, when I am three cars away???"

He stood there for a while, trying to contemplate the spacial distance between my feet and his dog, when joining the party was the mother of Budweiser Boy.

"Heyyyy!! Were you the one yellin' up at mah kiyeds?" growls a woman with clear skin damage from years of tanning. Matted blonde hair, blue raccoon makeup, gruff smoker's voice, crop top, hot pants, barefoot with a tramp stamp and a beer bottle in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Perfect. "How dare yew yell at mah little angels!"

"Are you their mother?" I yell with a slightly delirious twinge of hope in my vocal chords.

"Why yes ah ahyum!"

"GOOD! Your little crotch rockets have been on my property many times, along with *pointing behind me* those little FREAKS across the street!!" Which is true. I've caught these kids before, sprawled out over my front lawn, playing in the bushes, setting off firecrackers and drinking their parents' beer. The ones across the street have even toked outside my window, stealing pot from their older brothers. Why the cops refuse to do something about it, I have no idea, but it's a sad, sorry and frightening sight to see a couple of 6-8 year olds getting high.

"Mah angels have dun nuffin wrong, they gots every right to do whut they want, an' if this is how yew act then you deserve it."

Seeing no end to the parade of stupidity before me, I decided to do what my mother told me to do as a child.

Tell the truth.

"REALLY? You think so? Well here's a news flash for ya. My fence has rusted nails sticking out all over, there's dangerous shit falling from the house into my lawn, and in a couple of months, this whole thing is going to be torn down. Pardon the FUCK out of me if I don't want your little bar room accidents getting TETANUS!!"

Now like I said, small words work, and telling the truth is a good thing. Because when I said the word "tetanus" Butterball straightened up, and tallied up the cost in his head for medical treatments for each kid, in case they got the terrible disease.

"Yes ma'am, I'll do something about the dogs and make sure the kids stay away from your house." His fake accent was almost totally gone. His shoulders dropped, and he motioned for his kids to move to the front of the property. He told the other neighbors that tetanus was a scary disease that causes your young ones to "grow mutant legs". Of course that's not what the disease can do, but if it prompts these people to ditch the fake accents and curb their kids and animals, then that's all that counts.

I offered an apology for yelling, in the exchange that they re-train the dogs and keep the kids OFF my property. I got a half assed "the dogs are really friendly" comment, with an added "well um um.. I'm friends with yer FAAAAThur" as if that was supposed to sound intimidating. But when they saw that wasn't going to scare me, the three sets motioned for the dogs to come back inside.

As I sat down to tell this story, I heard three more children walking past my house:

"HEY!! You don't wanna go near there. There's a wicked witch inside the house!! She'll turn your dog into a pussycat if you bother her."

Damn straight.

UPDATE: I couldn't sleep after sharing my story with the world. There were two things bothering me about this episode.

For starters, the fat Peta bitch in the hoodie. She got on me for being "mean" to her "poor defenseless dogs" and yet in the very next breath, she and the other clowns were talking about how they had raised these dogs to protect their property. These are attack dogs, trained to attack, yet they are living in the same homes as children.

Which is it? Is he a poor, defenseless puppy, or is he your weapon ~ or rather ~ your shield? Can you really read me the Peta riot after you've bred a dog to kill? And where the hell have you lived where you feel you "need" a dog to "protect" you?? If things are so bad that you feel you need to train an animal to kill, maybe you should MOVE.

The second thing is the children. Not one of them was above the age of eight, yet as I've said before, one had a Budweiser strapped to his bike, and the lot of them have been on my property before, shooting firecrackers while getting drunk and high.

If Junior is at a level where at the second grade, he's already toking, drinking and setting things on FIRE, I doubt very highly that my fowl language is the worst thing that can happen to him. I'm pretty sure we've reached the end of the line on how low this kid is going in life.

And what kind of a cop would openly see children engaging in pot and beer, and opt to do nothing about it?? My local law enforcers have been witness to this and still choose to do nothing about it. If I was a cop, and I saw Junior with a Bud strapped to his lil' bicycle, I'd pull him over, maybe have a chat with his mom and dad.

But the violent dogs and drug abusing children weren't what was the "problem" to these people in the alley. The fact that I yelled a bad word was. That scares me. Look, I know you're proud of your straight D- education, but since when is my saying "fuck" somehow worse than your 6-8 year olds getting high and drunk?

I wonder if any of this wound up on camera?

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Application for a mop

Have you ever heard the phrase "when it rains it pours"? WELL this is what they were talking about.

So the other day, I woke up to the news that my house is going for Sheriff's auction in June, so I need to figure out how to be GONE by then. Awesome. The lawyer bought us until the first week of June.. and that's about all he's done. Lovely.

So I had a day and a half straight of listening to my parents kvetch. My mom is trying to figure out why nobody has gotten off their ass long enough to hire either of us long enough to pay for this move, and my father has regressed into re-denial about their divorce.

He spent several hours boasting about the leftover garbage he found at garage sales while pausing every few minutes to tell me how "I had better" get rid of everything I own, because my owning more than a handful of clothes and a bed is somehow a burden on him. This is the same clown who does not live with me AT ALL, yet has an apartment under my living area, where he lives alone as a hoarder. Go figure.

His batshit girlfriend Maryse also took time out of her busy day to phone him and tell him what a horrible human being I must be, because I don't go Smurf shopping with her. I am not kidding. She said (and I quote) that "Smurfs are a part of my soul, because they understand French children, so I must become one with them." She just spent $100 on the long recalled Smurfs cereal. The one from the 80's that pretty much made kids poop a Smurf. I shouldn't be surprised, since this is the same psycho I've blogged about before who spent $500 to bring a stray Hitler cat from Japan to America. She also performs "spells" and is still allowed around small children as a teacher.

By the way, Charles was spotted a month ago on the side of the highway, still very sick, but ran before he could be captured. This cat has legit died more times than those 9 lives allot.

Yesterday I was in a rotten mood. I couldn't handle anybody's bullshit when I couldn't even handle my own life. Surely, it can't get any-

*CRACK BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

Ah. Shame on me for even thinking that sentence.

Now, I live pretty close to the Calumet River. In fact I have to walk over it to get groceries. A little background here.

Before I moved to this lovely suburb in Hell, the city had decided to drill into the cement and add drains and dips all over the surrounding area. Why? "To defer flood waters" was the shameless excuse everyone was given.

Now before the drains were put in, the waters from the "Lil Cal" would wash through the streets, causing a lovely annoyance to people, but would subside on their own.

Now? Well thanks to the pipes, drains and dips all over my town and the town next to it, all that lovely, sewage filled water now backs up into my house, my neighbors' houses, and makes for a stinky swimming pool right by the shopping center. In fact, here's a shot of my local shopping center, courtesy of NBC 5:
Now after this was taken in 2008, and they started evacuating people by boat from the clinic (upper left corner) it took until last week to finish repairing all of the damages. Renovations on the Taco Bell (center) just wrapped up last week.

Guess what happened overnight?

Well it hasn't gotten this bad YET, but as my neighbor from across the street was bailing out his "downstairs lab" (Dear Jebus I can't move fast enough) he suggested calling the Calumet Trustee's office for aid.

So my mother did just that. This is what happened:

Mama: Ah hello? Is this the Calumet Trustee office for disaster relief?
Lady: What's your issue, honey?
Mama: Well my basement's flooded and my neighbors are trying to bail out their homes. The Little Calumet is still rising, and after the rains everyone is flooding. What sort of disaster relief funds may I apply for?
Lady: *Sucks in air* Ooooh yeah um... I dunnoooooooooooooooo what you mean by disaster fundage or anything. But we don't do that. Our aid is not monitary, m'kay?
Mama: Ah... I beg your pardon? I do not think I understand.
Lady: Well do you live in MUNSTER?? (She says with venom in her voice)
Mama: No.
Lady: Ah okay that's fine then.
Mama: See what happened was-
Lady: AREYOUSUREYOUDONTLIVEINMUNSTER??
Mama: Yes yes! I don't live in Munster.
Lady: Ah good... good.......................................
Mama: So as I was saying-
Lady: ARYSHUREYUDINTLIFINMINSTR!!
Mama: For the last time I don't live in Munster, okay??
Lady: Well GOOD then.
Mama: Anyway, we're all flooding right now, what kind of emergency aid are my neighbors and I entitled to?
Lady: Well we don't exactly have any financial aaaaaaaid.
Mama: Um...
Lady: See what we can do is we can send each of you a form. You fill out the form and send it back to us, and if we approve you... we will send you a free mop and bucket.
Mama:.... I'm sorry say that again?
Lady: Now that's only IF you get approved. We have a process here. But → IF ← you are approved, we will send you a free mop and bucket.

When my mother recounted this story earlier today, my brother screamed "IT'S NOT POT, IT'S A FUCKING BUCKET!!" Alluding to the fact that it's actually quicker to obtain pot in the state of Indiana than it is to obtain a "free" mop and bucket.

And this isn't even a fancy mop and bucket either. This is one of those cheap, plastic $4 sets you find in every old person's home. It's not even a Swiffer.

Of the many types of Government aids out there, I never thought that they had such a strenuous process for a mop and bucket.

Dare I ask what would disqualify me from the process of gaining this mop and bucket?

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Tumblr thinks harassment is cool

I got an email yesterday from a friend of mine on YouTube, who told me that there were total strangers posting hateful things about her on Tumblr. These are people she's never spoken to before and didn't know existed, until the hate started going viral.

I got onto the Tumblr page and found they were also stalking another friend of mine, without her knowledge.

The page also has people jumping on there, telling other Tumblr users as young as 13, that they "need to" and "had better" kill themselves.

Why did these Tumblrs want my two friends and these teenagers to kill themselves? 

Because these butthurt wastes of life (The Tumblr trolls) hated that my two friends made some cool CGI videos, using a freeware called MikuMikuDance. 

Yeah for real. Videos of CGI girls dancing makes trolls wish you were dead.

And I should know, I love that software.

But after I started getting "not too bad" with it in 2010-11, a bunch of strangers went after me, hacked me, posted a hate shrine against me on ED, stalked me, stalked my family, sent me death threats and even hacked my Facebook, so they could tag my entire friends and family in sick porn pictures in my name.

I've been where my friends have been before, with sick bastards trying to ruin my life.

So I went ahead and used Tumblr's "contact us" feature to report the two Tumblr pages.

This is what "Danii" from Tumblr support says:
from: Tumblr Support
reply-to: Tumblr Support  
Danii (Tumblr Support)
Apr 10 08:29 pm (EDT)
We realize this content may be very upsetting. However, sometimes content posted by a blogger may be mean-spirited or upsetting but does not violate the law. In order to maintain freedom of expression, we won't remove that material right now.
I strongly suggest you add that user to your Ignore list at http://tumblr.com/ignore. This way, the blogger can't see your posts on his/her Dashboard, and you won't see the blogger listed in post notes or Dashboard notifications. You also won't get Asks or Fan Mail from users you've ignored.
Keep in mind that we don’t notify bloggers that you’ve ignored them, although they may realize it once they stop hearing from you altogether.
Thank you for taking the time to share your concern with us.
--
Tumblr Support
support@tumblr.com


No, Danii. This is NOT acceptable. You have failed to do your job.

The TOS agreement for Tumblr expressly says that you are not to use the site to harass, belittle or post hate against anybody for any reason. Yet that is just what these people have done.

And yet the Tumblr team didn't think that this was worth their time. 

That it's "freedom of expression" for total strangers to name-call and ask people to kill themselves.... over a CGI.

This complacent attitude, when suicides are on the rise due to cyber stalking and harassment, is NOT acceptable.

What would it take, Danii? A few more suicides from the harassment? A lawsuit against Tumblr? Would you like it if people trolled you like this? 

How much is too much?

At what point as a society did we start to mollycoddle and accept stalking, slander, harassment and threats as "innocent bullying"? 

This is as bad as when a cop ignores a spouse who's been beaten, and says 'Meh, domestic dispute" and refuses to take into custody the criminal.

Should I be surprised? After all, we have so many news stations, cheering rapists and lamenting over their spoiled careers while at the same time, shaming rape victims and making it out like the attack is all their fault. If this is how our society treats violent, even deadly crimes, I shouldn't be surprised when a company like Tumblr openly supports cyber harassment.

We are in a society that accepts people being bullied as "Well you better learn how to deal with it, ya PANSY!" when strangers are spreading rumors and being malicious to people they have never met.

Enough.

I hereby urge people to drop Tumblr like the bad habit it is. If you have tweens/teens order them to do the same.

Flood their inbox with your concern over this blind acceptance of hate. 

We need to make a change.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Lucy84 and the phone more important than her children

One day when I am a mother, if for ANY reason you see me being so negligent as to pay more attention to a cell phone than my children, I want you to pinch me in the arm as hard as you can, and scream bloody murder, until I stop being stupid and attend to the kids.

Before I get to today's blog, I love wrestling. There is no better way to close a day like this, than to hear about EVOLVE crowning their first champion (AR Fox), Ring of Honor crowning a new champion (Jay Briscoe) and the Hall of Fame featuring ALL 6 entrants properly on TV this year.

I needed to get a prescription today. Only my closest friends/family get to know why, but suffice to say that $106 is too expensive for freaking prescription strength Benadryl. >_O

So anyway, I ventured to Target, hoping to save a few dollars on the prescription. Ha ha ha.

Now Target is much closer to my house than Wal*Mart, but still about a mile east. I have no car, so this means I had to walk.

As I'm walking, I'm getting honked at, and getting laughed at, there are fully grown adults ~ half of them senior citizens ~ making fun of me. How dare I clutter up THEIR lovely streets by walking? And with a tiny cart no less?

Oh, and I dare to pay for broccoli with a food stamp card? Well obviously I must be a degenerate. So I deserve to have the cashier roll her eyes at my mom and I, and call me a "loser bitch" under her breath. Obviously, I should be shot.

By the way, if you for one single, solitary moment, want to pretend that people without a car or on food stamps are "welfare whores" and that I'm somehow a "loser" for fitting this category, because I'm earning less than a living wage at what I do, I implore you. Please, try and go through the Indiana SNAP process yourself, and tell me how "easy" it is. When you're done crying like a bitch at how many officers call you a whore, loser, possible drug addict and a drain on our society, you may come back and comment on this blog. Please try it keyboard jocks. And while you're at it, try getting a job at McDonald's without a college degree. I want to hear how "easy" it is for you. Please include a scan of your 2013 McDonald's name tag as proof of what you accomplished today. And don't forget the lid on my Coke. ╭∩╮*^_^*╭∩╮

I take a sip at the water fountain before heading to the Rx counter. There are TWO water fountains, spaced pretty well apart.

There's a dude behind me, who sees me taking a drink. He has the opportunity to use the other fountain. It's a mere 15 inch difference.

Instead, he stands behind me, sighing heavily and gets frustrated. I move, and then he touches the fountain, and then wipes his hands real quick, looking at my face, and then looking at his hands in wonderment. No dude, my skin color won't rub off on you. Thanks for asking. I swear, between Target and Facebook, I wonder if I've gone back to the mid 1960's. There's more racism now than ever.

While waiting in line as "Ashley" very slowly decided to roll lazily along the counter, I found myself standing behind a woman, who should have had her tubes tied during puberty.

I saw the woman's cell phone long enough to know her screen name is Lucy84. So that's how I will refer to her for the duration of this story.

Lucy84 has two children. They are wearing normal clothes, while she is wearing the latest fashion trend. I noticed a ton of other moms doing the same thing. They're dressed like they're about to go clubbing, while their husbands and children are dressed by Le Boutique De Goodwill. Funny that.

The one child is hanging off the cart like a monkey. Other people are slamming into his little face, and nobody is caring to notice that. But he seems fine being slapped about by so many shopping carts, and his mom doesn't care.

The other child is very small, but she looks about 4 or 5 ish. She is sitting in the cart, less than a full 2 inches from her mother's face. Please keep that in mind.

Lucy84 is very slowly, lazily, playing with her cell phone. She makes short calls, but spends most of her time here, blogging about floral print bags and how annoying her kids are. I wouldn't know, except she has a large phone, so you can read the damn thing from an aisle away.

The daughter starts screeching. "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMY I WANNA GOOO I WANNA GO LET'S GO MOOOOOVE ALREADY!!!!"

Now the child doesn't seem to be upset. She's doing that thing where she just wants attention. Lucy84 doesn't seem to notice, she just keeps playing with her phone.

"MOMMOMMOM MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY I WANNA GO LET'S GO I WANNA GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

The boy child, who can't be older than maybe 7, appears to be the responsible person in this triad. He looks up at Lucy84 and says "Hey mother? I believe she's trying to get your attention. Mother? She really needs you to pay attention."

Lucy84 is ignoring both of them now.

The son rolls his eyes, and decides to let nature take it's course.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMYYYYY" hollers the girl who is nearly in tears. Still, Lucy84 does not budge. There's less than 3 inches between Lucy84 and the girl, it's not like she's out of reach here. How hard is it to tend to a child these days??

The daughter stands in the cart and grabs Lucy84 by the face. "MOM!! I want to go NOW!!"

Shockingly? Lucy84 doesn't even acknowledge this! I don't hear a peep out of her, except for the constant "pop pop pop" of her fingers against the touch screen.

Furious. the little girl sits in the cart again and screams.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMY C'MON ALREADY I WANNA GO LET'S GO LET'S GO LET'S GO I WANNA GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

Lucy84 stops blogging long enough to snap the phone up, and in a whisper, tell the two children "Now really, this behavior is not conducive to what we agreed to int he car! You both must stop right now."

With that, Lucy84 returns to blogging. Both children cock their heads slightly, as if to mentally say "My mom is an idiot."

Dropped off the prescription. "Ashley" insisted that it would be done in 30 minutes.

... Well an hour and a half later, the prescription isn't even half done. I can't imagine to what ends of the Earth Ashley had gone to in order to obtain the medical grade Benadryl, but apparently I wasn't alone. Lucy84 was back, still waiting for her prescription.

The daughter is still agitated. "WHY ARE WE BACK HERE MOM LET'S GO I WANNA LEAVE I DON'T LIKE THIS PLACE I WANNA GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" She's kicking her legs and giving everyone a headache.

What does Lucy84 do? Fire up Angry Birds and play by herself of course.

The daughter starts poking her arm. Lucy84 just swats her away. "Not NOW I'm busy. You are going to make me mess up my high score. Just shut up, gawd." She groans quietly.

As the girl starts screaming again, my mother asks Ashley what is taking the prescription so long. "Like wooooooooooooooooooooow man it'll like totally be another couple minutes. ah'kaaaay?" Um, no Ashley, it's not okay. Especially not when I can see the box of medication behind you. Freaking do your JOB.

"Oh woooooooooooooooow are you like... over 18 and stuff? 'Cause you know like Benadryl ... is like totally medicine and whatnot."

Have you been snorting it??? Dear God woman, get up and fill the damn bottle already!!

Ashley asks repeatedly who this is for. I am seriously wondering how this moron got a job. She's rolling on the counter in a lucid state, and doesn't seem able to fill a bottle on time.

Finally, Ashley hands me my prescription..... written out to "Alexander" Ake. REALLY??? How hard is it to spell "Koriander"??? That's just belligerence. >_O

All the way to the parking lot, I can hear the little girl screaming. Lucy84 never once puts down her cell phone as she pushes the cart. Finally, she stops pushing (in the middle of the street I might add) to stamp her feet and say "UGH! Just why can't you let Mommy focus for one minute on what's important??"

Um... Lucy84... let me be clear... your KIDS are what's important!! You remember them, don't you? Sure you do! The gangly little monkys you gave birth to, who've bee trying to grab your attention all damn day??

Not your cell phone, not your blog, and sure as hell not Angry Birds. Puddown the phone and tend to your kids!!

If ever you catch Lucy84 in her light grey hoodie and sparkly jeans, ignoring her children for Angry Birds, please do me a favor. Punch her in the right breast ~ right on the side by her arm. That way, she won't be able to tweet about the pain, and maybe, juuuust maybe, her kids can have their mom back.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Mick Foley & Bob Backlund bumped OFF of TV? APOLOGIZE!! (UPDATED APRIL 5TH!!)

I heard the rumors for two days, but I was really hoping they were just that, rumors.

But as it turns out, they were 100% true, as confirmed by Mick Foley via Twitter this afternoon, that his speech was being cut from the televised broadcast of the WWE Hall of Fame.

At the same time, I discovered that Bob Backlund's speech was also being cut.

This injustice had to be corrected. So I created a C.M. Punk "Apologize" meme, and got it sent to Mick and to the world right away.

What I never expected was the immediate and positive reaction I got, not just from Mick Foley, but from the entire wrestling community, and dare I say it? The WWE Universe. I'll let my Twitter feed speak for itself, be sure to give everyone listed a shoutout on Twitter if you can:






Obviously, these fans love professional wrestling, but more to the point, they love and respect Bob Backlund and Mick Foley.


Mick Foley has always been one of the WWE's most enthusiastic supporters, very rarely calling out questionable decisions, choosing only to do so when it's fair. His characters have always brought about the best when it comes to both action and storytelling, and his ability to write compelling books on his own has done much to take down the stereotype of the "dumb wrestler". His unique take on hardcore wrestling has inspired new wrestlers to pick up where he left off, but with a more educated and cautious flair. The Attitude Era would never have gotten to be nearly as popular without the ECW alumni.

Bob Backlund put technical grappling front and center in the spotlight during his heyday. He knew he wasn't as flashy as Superstar Billy Graham or as muscular as Bruno Sammartino, and he used that less as a disadvantage and more as an excuse to do twice as much in the ring as others his own size. Wrestling fans in the 1970's took note of that, and by staying focused on wrestling itself, he created a legacy that has since paved the way for other technical grapplers like William Regal, Dean Malenko and Bryan Danielson.

Even non-WWE fans and non-Wrestling fans know who these two are. They are an important part of the WWE's legacy, and neither man should be cut down for a washed up reality star like Donald Trump.

No offense to the multiple time bankrupted celebrity, but his dealings with the WWE have been few and far between, being relegated to the same Wrestlemania guest appearance spots in the 1980's as Liberace.

The fact that it's Trump taking up most of the time is what's hurting and angering the WWE Universe the most. Not only has he not contributed more than a few spot payments to Vince McMahon in the 80's, and a sad Hair vs. Hair match a few scant years ago, he's done much to downplay his relationship with the McMahons, while Backlund and Foley have bled for Vince McMahon ~ literally. The two have sacrificed time with their loved ones, sacrificed their health and well being, if only to entertain the audience at home and abroad.

Vince McMahon has always bent over backwards to try and please Donald Trump, eager to be accepted by a celebrity he looks up to as a brother. In return, Trump has done a fair job of putting him down, snubbing him, but taking him for all he's worth anyway.

On the flip-side  Foley and Backlund have allowed the WWE to profit from their battered bodies and image in the form of T-Shirts, DVDs, VHS tapes, Blu-Ray, action figures, and a wide array of other products, garnering profit for the McMahon name. Even when not in the company, they have both continued to offer praise to the WWE and help them stay fresh in the minds of even the most casual wrestling fan.

And in turn, the fans want better, as reported by The Angry Marks Network today.

Many people within the WWE Universe have already voiced their grievances to Vince McMahon's Twitter account, and many more will be doing it in person at the Fan Axxes events this weekend.

Certainly, this is as good a time as any to make your voice heard. Let's remind the WWE that it's folly to cut Foley and Backlund from the USA broadcast.

UPDATE:

Just saw some great news from Mick Foley's Facebook:

SANTA SAVES HALL OF FAME FOR FOLEY!
Sources tell us that a last minute deal brokered between Santa Claus and WWE owner Vincent McMahon have saved what could have been an ugly incident at Saturdays Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Santa broke the news on his official Twitter site @SantaClausWay, tweeting, "don't worry @RealMickFoley. I had a nice talk with @VinceMcMahon and your #WWEHOF speech WILL be televised."
Foley was said to be so happy that he jumped for joy, before realizing that his arthritic knees no longer allow him to jump, causing him to crumble clumsily into a hot dog cart in Times Square. Helpful onlookers helped the Hardcore Legend to his feet, and actually began a "Foley" chant, which ended almost as soon as it started - and possibly sooner, according to an onlooker who admitted to losing quite a bit of respect for Foley during the course of the incident.
We'll have more as this breaking story develops. But for now, it truly seems that Santa Claus has saved the day - Saturday - for his number one fan. Foley asked that we share the link to his "Saint Mick" t-shirt.


I'm hoping the same will be said for Mr. Backlund. Let's keep it up!

UPDATE #2:

WWE and Mick Foley confirmed that the Hall of Fame has been restructured. EVERYONE will have their own time on the TV broadcast.

And as a bonus, Booker T's big brother Stevie Ray is inducting the WCW alumni, making for a Harlem Heat reunion.

I love a happy ending. ^_^