Courtney’s Log

Day One — 6:39 a.m.

After getting approximately four and a half hours of sleep, I awake to begin my journey. I start my day by coming face-to-face with a toilet bowl full of my grandpa’s urine. (Is there a law that toilets cannot be flushed after dark? Or does the fermented smell of piss help old people wake up in the morning?)

After showering, I am greeted by a trumpet of “good mornings” and more questions than an episode Law & Order: SVU

8:06 Grandpa comes into the room with his bible to let me know he’s praying for our trip. Since I’m driving, he assumes we’re all gonna die. Some of us may die, but I predict I’ll be the only survivor.

8:15 — I was scolded for trying to make a fresh pot of coffee. Day old coffee tastes like week old balls.

8:32 — Our departure time has come and gone. Grandpa insists we’re stopping at a hotel for a night. I insist that he sleeps on the side of the road and hitch hikes the rest of the way to Tennessee.

Tomorrow morning I am leaving to go on a road trip from Michigan to Tennessee. I am going with my neurotic and always emotional mother, my senile grandma (not the one I live with) and my loud/opinionated/and slightly racist grandpa. Also, a bipolar dog named Bently. Am I excited? No. No I am not. The main reason I am going is to act as the chauffeur to this clan of misfits (with whom I share mutated DNA). Why must I be the driver of this crazy train? My mother is in a wheelchair, my grandmother thinks it is legal to drive full speed in turn lanes, and my grandfather is old…he’s just so fuckin old, so I was nominated to drive a rented van many hours across a small portion of our great nation. This trip is going to last 5 days. Five long days of nonstop contact and interaction with a few of the craziest people I know. With your help, I believe I can survive this supposed “vacation” and will share the events as they come. The adventure will begin in approximately 8 hours when I wake up and fight two geriatrics to shower and leave by 8 a.m. Dear followers, please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Think of me for the next five days and send me your love (and horse tranquilizers if possible).

I don’t post to Tumblr very often, and if I do it’s to write something stupid or nonsensical. However, I felt the need to address an incident that occurred yesterday on Twitter.

I posted (what I did not find to be an outlandishly offensive) tweet about MJF. Apparently a follower was SO offended he felt the need to reply with a “fuck you” and I felt the need to RT that (which I now have deleted). His following tweet, which was clearly about me, went on to say that I was a cunt/asshole. I chose to ignore that.

I woke up this morning to that same person calling me a “husk of a human being”. (I sure hope that wasn’t a fat joke! How rude!) Now remember, I never said anything to or about this person who felt the need to continuously berate me over a tweet. (Does that mean I’ve made it to some sort of special elite status now? Sweet!) As far as I’m concerned, I had the most class out of the entire exchange since I continued to ignore his rude comments rather than partake in them.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, people need to chill the fuck out. This is Twitter we’re talking about. If I don’t like what someone tweets, I either move-on or unfollow. I don’t believe it’s necessary to scold someone for being ironic, sarcastic or using a horrible, horrible pun. Maybe we could try to act like adults instead of middle school girls? Cool. Deal!

If you want to unfollow me, I’m completely fine with that. If you want to be rude to me….I’ll probably star and retweet it because I think it’s funny.

To all that still follow me: You are good people. I love you. Let’s hang out sometime. Maybe hit up an Applebees or something?

I wanted to thank everyone for the really nice birthday wishes yesterday. I consider Twitter to be my second family (mostly filled with creepy uncles, drug addicted cousins, sex crazed brothers and drunken aunts) so when you took the time to wish me a happy birthday, it really meant a lot! I have some of the coolest/nicest people following me and I just wanted to let you know that I love you all and I’m thankful for our blossoming (and hopefully sexy) friendships. You made it one of the most special birthdays I’ve ever had! So, thank you!

The biggest compliment I can give someone, is feeling comfortable enough with them to take a shit at their house. If I’ve pooped inside your toilet, we’re friends for life.

Hey America, it’s your bday. Thats pretty neat. I didn’t get you a gift because I’m one of your poor. Plus, I just gave a shit ton of money to Verizon so I can continue to have this super cool phone that impresses all my friends. I did make you a card though! I know it’s pretty graphic, but you should appreciate the time it took me make those British entrails using only fusilli pasta and glitter! Anyway, I thought I should let you know how much I love you, so here is a list of freedoms and privileges that I appreciate the most:

1. I wont get stoned to death for having a vagina. (Hey, I can’t help that!)

2. I have indoor plumbing and a super awesome phone. (I think I mentioned that already)

3. I can play in water to cool off but don’t have to drink it! (Ugh! Water is totes nasty and I’d rather have a frozen mocha!)

4. Frozen mochas

5. I can sit in A/C all day and lounge in my $6 Wal-Mart sweat pants while watching hours of Mad Men per my Netflix.

6. Netflix

7. I could be a gay lion tamer or a drug addicted stripper mom if I so choose.

8. Vending machines are pretty cool. Who was the guy that invented those? Was he an American? Probably.

9. John Krasinski

10. I have multiple social media outlets to write moronic drivel that strangers can read from all over this beautiful nation!

Hey America, good work!

My sister and I are a pair of grown women who sometimes act like immature middle schoolers. The follow text conversation is proof.

SIS: Did you see the kfc coupons in the usa insert in the paper?

ME: Ugh yeah! I got all six because apparently I think i need to have diarrhea for the rest of my life

SIS: What what- me too! booyah

ME: I told gma that and she said we can have diarrhea if we want

SIS: Thats right. We’re grown ass women who can have diarreha whenever we damned well please! lol

ME: YEAH! FUCK YOU BUTT! I WANT DIARRHEA AND I WANT IT NOW!!!

SIS: I WANT MY ASSHOLE TO TURN INSIDE-OUT!..I WANT TO HEAR MY HEMRROID HUM GREAT BALLS OF FIRE! I AM AN AMERICAN!

ME: USA! USA!

Fin.

I’m sitting at my sister’s house watching Bee Movie. By myself. I am an adult and I understand that this is a children’s cartoon and is completely fictional, but I can’t help rationalizing some things in my head. 

1) You are a bee. Why are you wearing clothes?
Sub Question: Why are your clothes the same color/pattern as your skin?! Thats weird!

2) If you collect honey as food, why are you swimming in it?! That would be like me filling my pool with taco meat or cake batter.

3) What normal human would rescue a bee? I would have killed that fucker the first chance I got, which got me thinking, what if bugs really can talk? I would have no freaking idea because I am the biggest, most compulsive insect murderer in the entire world!

and finally

4) When the bee lands on the Honey Farm windshield and is talking to the mosquito, the mosquito makes reference to going to Alaska for crazy moose blood. Umm, excuse me! Only female mosquitoes bite because they need the protein from the blood to lay their eggs! Get your facts straight Dream Works!!

Do kids really buy this shit? Pff…idiots.

Today I realized that I either:
A.) Have the coolest family ever
or
B.) I am the most repulsive person in the world and they’ve just learned to tolerate me.

It seems almost impossible for me to act as a mature adult (I am in fact 24-going on 25 years of age) and to carry on a conversation with me that is free of sarcasm, curse words, or total absurdity is difficult.

My most recent example comes from a conversation I had with my mother. After leaving a graduation party she asked me if I would be able to “Pass a message” along to my uncle. Rather than responding with “Sure, mom!” like a normal child, I said “Would you like me to put it in a bottle and shove it up his ass?” I assume that a normal and well adjusted parent would be appalled at a completely crass and unnecessary comment. Instead, my mom laughed and said “Sounds good”

They enable this behavior, people. They enable me.

Oh, hey tumblr! I forgot you were there! Its hard for me to maintain human relationships let alone multiple social media outlets! I’ll think of something good to write and then I’ll tumble for ya (Do you get it!? Tumble for ya!! Boy George? Anyone? No? Ahhh shit!)