Well dingbat since you asked...

Over on my other place. The place where I am nice. (BeingPeachy.com) I have this tell it Tuesday Non Advice Column and give absolutely stupid advice I channel straight from my Dalmatians Brain.  People know they are getting advice from a totally unqualified person, but they write anyway and I don't even bribe them with Cheesecake.

You are welcome to send your questions in to beingpeachy at gmail dot com

But this is one  question/comment  I had to answer. It nearly drove me to the brink of a doing a reverse look up on the IP and sending over a dead octopus with instructions on how to shove it in their ass then poop it out into their air and heating ducts. I couldn't put what I wanted over there. Because posting it on my regular Being Peachy blog would have thrown 2/3rds of my followers into stab mode.
That's right out of the 3 people that read my blog 2  would have become Homicidal.

The true meaning of this "spare/extra" blog came to light.  I didn't. instead and   So I decided this was the place I could call BS, or proclaim the reign of utter morons. Simply put, this blog is the pits, what's left when you run out of Peach.  So thank you, you gianormus cerebral fart for showing me why I started this place up.


Here is the one that pushed the buttons that caused me to push the buttons that made this place be delivered to you via a bored person looking for a victim.

Peaches:   I see on your Face Book, twitter and blogs that  you often joke about brain injuries and such and some people might think it's funny.  I don't.  Do you know what hardships a person with a Brain Injury has to go through.  How dare you make light of it.   

sincerely,

Put yourself in their shoes

Dear Hoity Toity Self righteous heffer who thinks I should put myself in their shoes.  One of my dear friends had a series of strokes/bleeds in her brain and nearly died, her life and the life of her entire family is forever altered.  But that's not my story or my shoes so here's a clue dingus.  I worked in a TBI hospital for children.  Let me spell that out little Miss my poop don't stink.  That's Traumatic Brain Injury.  We had kids from age 7 to 18 for long term 24.7 rehab that went from 2 months to 18 months.   I DO IN FACT KNOW VERY WELL what it does to people, not just the person but the entire family. I watched parents not able to accept their "new child" with all the changes.  Do you know why I left my career in the field of law and went into this field?  Nope probably not, because I had a child who was diagnosed with autism ( and every other mental health issue known to man) and at the time that was the closest thing I could find as a job that I could use to help him and still make money to feed him.   Oh yeah and just a side note smart ass warrior Shena self designated defender of the Brain Damaged. I happen to have an issue with my brain and have had 5 surgeons ready to cut it open to try and help even though they weren't sure how, in all of them I would end up with considerably less skull, and more titanium to hold my head on like a toothpick.  Every day I crawl out of my bed I watch how my brain issues affect my children, husband and friends. The daughter away at college paying her own way working 40+ hours while she takes 18 hrs a semester, while driving an 89 build because Mom can't work anymore and her college money was spent on my health.  My 9 year old that will more than probably have to put himself through school like his sister due to my issues and our income.  That same 9 year old boy who sits inside once the temp hits over 90 ( around 7 months a year), because his mom is subjected to hyperthermia due to her meds that's no summer fun, ponds, pools, going places, sports or anything.  The friends I have to apologize to because I write  emails that look like they were typed in a foreign language and my husband, who spends all his annual leave from work  to drive my ass to Doctor after Doctor and watching them all be useless.  I mean I am positive that all my kids and my husband enjoy picking me up off the floor when I pass out, or following an ambulance  down the road to sit in an ER for hours just to hear,  " what does she have" from every Doctor as they back out of the room to google my diagnosis.   I mean who would want to go to a water park, camping, kayaking, canoeing, to  mall, or anything like that, have vacations, help their kid through school, have 2 incomes to make ends meet. OH yeah  MY FAMILY and me.  What kid shouldn't worry when they hear a thud that it's probably their mom hitting the floor again?  I came to the internet because it's one of the few things I can still do without having to bug some already burdened family member to help.   Yep, no shit.  OH yeah and I laugh about it, I joke about, and I get through it. Because you can pull on your big girl panties, suck it up and do the best you can with what you got.  That goes for Brain Damage, Strokes, Autism or any other issue. No matter the issue.  Or   I guess I could sit around and publicize my poor little self and whine and bitch constantly and get offended when someone says, "tard" or  " OMG I am so ADD",  " Dude what are you Rainman?" or  "this isn't Brain Surgery".  But why?  Is your life so friggin boring you have to stumble around the internet to find crap to complain about that probably doesn't have a damn thing to do with you to begin with?   So you take up some superficial shield to guard all these helpless victims.  Your an idiot, simply put. STOP TRYING TO MAKE VICTIMS. We don't need more victims in this world, we need more survivors, more laughing, more warriors. We  don't need your kind of defense, any more than any other person with a medical issue or disability.  If you can't laugh at yourself, your troubles and your triumphs then you're a miserable Bitchasourus Rex.  Go crochet a friggin dog snugglie you can pawn on Etsy with a 1500 word description for 'CROCHETED DOG SNUGGLIE".    Unless you're Dr. Laura and you want to complain about me having the right to complain about something then kiss my ass, oh and if you are her, kiss it twice moron, my butt cheeks get all jealous so take a moment out of your busy skimming around and say something offensive to others. Hell with a resume like this I am sure you could get a job at the Post.  I hear they hire a lot of idiots, you should be a shoe in.  Don't let the door hit you on the way out.  

PS if you could please hum in your mind the goodbye/farewell song from the sound of music as you leave that would be great".

no xo for you.  

ThePeachy1