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strange choice. you must be really bored. here it is. some background... prior to gallivanting in greeting card land, i did the exhilarating public accounting/cpa thing. not so sexy. but hey, it paid the bills. and no, as a young child i didn't dream of being an accountant. i wanted to be an astronaut and a veterinarian. how the fuck i fell into accounting is still a great mystery to me. i must have been hung over the morning i had to choose my major.
i rocked out the accounting thing for 8 years until i woke up on morning and had more desire to stab my eyeballs out with a rusty nail than look at another balance sheet. end of finance career.
fortunately my "i hate accounting" epiphany happened about the same i started my 5+ month pilgrimage of throwing up. yes i was pregnant. no, it wasn't morning sickness. it was 24x7 misery and vomiting. not fun. oh and because being super sick wasn't fabulous enough, i broke my tailbone in labor (this has no relevance other than to say how much it sucked). i embraced the opportunity to become a stay-at-home mom though i inevitably began the rapid decline in fundamental brain function. it happens when you have children. that don't sleep. and you go crazy. thank goodness for self-medication.
anyway, while on an agonizing shopping excursion for greeting cards that don't have a bunny, unicorn or rainbow with some little poem telling me to be happy but in actuality making me want to vomit, i thought, fuck, i'm not sending this crap anymore. inspired, i picked up a pack of blank cardstock. that day i made my first cards. one said "congratulations on your divorce. it's about time. we all fucking hated him anyway." the other card listed, in profane detail, what a complete fucker my friend's soon to be ex-husband was (aka the "hate" card). if you're wondering, he still is a sackless fucker. my friends were greatly amused at, if not slightly perplexed with the cards. i think it's safe to say they were likely concerned about me as well. but we'll leave that shit for my therapist.
i started to wonder why people don't like to acknowledge anything negative. and if we do, we dance around it. we've all been there. why do we choose to throw fluffy meaningless words on sucky situations? why do we do this with virtually everything? why can't we say what we're thinking? why can't we be blunt and honest? why can't we just say it like it is?
like multiple orgasms, once you get going it's hard to stop. so the cards started flowing. writing profane, random and blunt cards became a cathartic hobby. over sushi dinner with 2 of my closest bitches whores friends, i threw down some cocktails for liquid courage (who am i kidding, i just like my drink)and showed them my cards. it was like unveiling an ugly baby, you're proud of their existence but still somewhat concerned about what others will think. they were hugely supportive of my little creations and encouraged me to share them with the world. it of course helps that they have the same sense of humor as me... or perhaps they simply enjoyed laughing at me and not with me... regardless they were instrumental in nudging me forward. thanks bitches. i love you in that non-gay way. i wish i were gay, life would be so much easier. but again i'll save that shit for therapy. oh, and i paid for dinner.
so i made my crude rude cards for friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends... you get the point. there are a lot of us out there with a non-mainstream sense of humor. go fucking figure.
given my profound ability to excel at laziness, i must give my sister some thanks for throwing my lazy ass over her shoulder and carrying me across the finish line. without her incessant nagging, lectures about how i'm not funny, managing me like a kindergartener and exploiting my weakness for coffee, we wouldn't be where we are today. you are the best. but don't forget that mom and dad love me more than you.
and here we are.
oh, and "ripe" by definition is mature and stinky. it also represents the first 2 letters of my daughters names, riley (ri)and peyton (pe). they keep me both sane and insane. fortunately they are the funniest people i know. this morning riley (5 years old) told me there was a bad smell coming from my mouth and to go brush my teeth. peyton looked out the window and said "shit, it's raining out". hey, it's funny coming from a 3 year old. so these cards are dedicated to my little female mafia. mommy loves you. now if anyone is still reading this, go buy some fucking cards so i can take my kids to disney world and send them to college. m.  |
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