Everyone Shut Up and Listen To Me – NOW (STFU Fridays)

I’m super cranky, faithful blog followers. So cranky I think the best way to describe my attitude would be as snarly, and my facial expression as sheer hatred. Of everything. Between getting back to life after a crazy and long vacation to the Midwest; finding a new place to rent temporarily; and preserving any last bits of my sanity that remain amidst my current war against the tofu-eating, cereal and milk gastropub-opening, flannel shirts and neon green glasses when it’s 180 degrees out-wearing, tandem bike-riding, living in their parents’ basement and working at the local Urban Outfitters-Los Angeles hipsters …I’m a little tapped out.

Not so tapped out, though, that I haven’t had the time to make the changes with my blog I wanted to make, which included:

Redesigning my website

Rebranding my blog

Getting my weekly Podcast up and running

So, everyone just sit down, shut up, and listen to me. NOW. Or else I will declare war on you like I have the hipsters.

Redesigning my website

I know this is going to sound real exerting for those of you that don’t like to move your fingers very far beyond one, two clicks max (studies show Internet users have such a short and seemingly-pathetic attention span at this point that they will not stick around a website for more than two clicks); but I urge you to take a look around my website – extensively.

Because it’s changed. A lot.

Among those changes include making it primarily an author’s website. The blog is really just one part of me – who I am. Really, I am a writer. I write books. I write short stories. I read a lot too, but if any of you read my last STFU Friday post, my next publication has nothing to do with my blog, and everything to do with me as a writer.

You can find my other stuff easily now, as well. On the side bar are links to videos, my books, and my blog.

Which brings me to the next point.

Rebranding My Blog


For some time now I have quibbled with myself over whether I should continue the brand of the B(itch)Log… or do something new. The thing is a lot of people never got the whole (itch) in parentheticals thing. Or they thought it was just a blog where I bitch and bitch and bitch and talk about nothing else, at all.

On one hand, I am a bitch. I mean … seriously. I can be really bitchy and mean. And it is true that a lot of times this blog is a bitch-fest. But not really all the time; and really I’m called a bitch because I’m honest. And blunt. To the point.

On another hand, this is a mom blog. While I do blog about all kinds of things besides just mommy-ass-wiping-puke-on-my-new-outfit-oh-my-God-why-are-you-asking-for-another-fucking-snack-you-just-had-dinner-life, the mommy-ness of it all is still the overlying theme.

And then I said something one day that was just in jest, but it stuck in my mind as a way to merge my love of being who I am, while at the same time making things clear that this is a mom blog (in spite of how many non-mothering things I write about). We were driving home from dinner one night on our vacation, and out of nowhere I said: “…you know, I think my job as a mother will be done right if one day my kids say ‘my mom… she’s a real bitch’ … then I will know I did something right.”

So I hope you will all stick around for the rebranded version of the same, old humor:


Getting my weekly Podcast up and running

I’ve been talking about doing this weekly Podcast for pretty much as long as I’ve known what a Podcast was. But somehow I just never got it up and running.

TRexRadioThat’s not entirely true – I know exactly how it has gone un-launched all this time. I actually don’t know shit about computers and the Internet, in spite of how much people seem to think I do.

Now I won’t go into the embarrassing details of just how much I didn’t get it, but we’ll just leave it at this: I’ve finally learned how to paste the link to my uploaded Podcast into the area that says “paste here” on iTunes. It was that simple, and now I can do it. So yay.

T-Rex Radio launches this upcoming Tuesday, August 20th. It’ll be a 10 minute show, once a week. I promise I won’t rant and curse… too much…….

Jerry’s Final Thought

I always feel like I need to have a Jerry Springer-style final thought at the end of my blog posts, which is something I really need to get over. For one, I have too many random points to sum up, many of which I didn’t even touch on but would love to talk about in this post. Like how you should buy my book, read recent book reviews of my books, come to my book signings, appreciate the sexiness of old TV anchors like Wolf Blitzer, and so on.

But when it comes time to sign off, I also want to feel like I’ve had closure with a post. Much like closure with a relationship – you know, that thing that usually involves a gas can and a match, and a fire that destroyed all of the things that reminded you of your ex? (Kidding.)

The great thing about STFU Fridays is that closure can be as simple as this: sit down and look through my website. Like My Mom’s A Bitch on Facebook. Listen to my free Podcasts. Enjoy the laughs and the relatability to your own miserable lives (please…spare me the lectures about how your lives are not, in fact, miserable…I don’t believe you). And buy my books. Above all: SHUT THE FUCK UP.


STFU Fridays: Food Nazis

Do you have a Food Nazi in your life? You know those people. I have quite a few.

They have to qualify everything with “fat-free” “non-fat” “organic” “with a hint of” blah blah blah. Shut the fuck up. After a while you start qualifying your food like that too just from being around these arrogant and pompous assholes. The other day I made these miniature pumpkin pie things with my kick ass fat-free pumpkin pie recipe. I posted a photo to Instragram with a long description of all the healthful and unique qualities these stupid little fuckers had. Afterwards, I hated myself more than the morning after that one night in Cabo I just can’t – for the life of me – remember…

Some of them have the stupidest food beliefs, and they shove them down your throat every time they have an opportunity. You faithful blog followers that have been around a while remember that time Hello Kitty Toaster (my sister in law) got into an argument with me over her belief that vegetables are bad for you. It started because I “checked in” on Facebook at Subway and she replied “sandwiches = fat fat and more fat ass!” Really bitch?

Well it’s time for these people to get smacked in the face with Shut the Fuck Up Fridays. And my friend Shut the Fuck Up Burger came to help.

“I’m a …arian”

Vegetarians. Vegans. Pescatarians. Meat-lovers. Whenever people identify themselves as a particular “…arian” (in my experience) they are usually pretty arrogant in their attitude towards food. One of the biggest criticisms of vegetarians and vegans in particular is that they are constantly taking an air of superiority when in the presence of a certain meat they don’t eat.

I don’t mean you shouldn’t identify yourself. I just mean don’t be a dick about it. I don’t care what you are. Just don’t try and make me it.

But it goes beyond that – I’ve had so many experiences with these people trying to shove their food agenda down my throat. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been to family parties and been forced to eat a side of peas only, simply because everything else contained red meat, and the family member made it a point of informing me that they had no respect for the fact that red meat makes me sick to my stomach. Once they told me I should just suffer through it. Another person in recent memory is one of my husband’s friends, who is basically one of those vegetarians that also doesn’t believe in wasting food. So he dumpster dives. If you want to pick food out of raw garbage and eat it, that’s your choice; but you go too far when you pull bread out of a trash can and try to bully me into eating it.

Shut the Fuck Up Burger wants to say something to you “I’m a …arian”s:

Food Conspiracists

These people really roast my ass. What got me started on this little Food Nazi bit this morning was an article I read about how unhealthy fat-free milk is. I drink about three glasses of fat-free milk a day, which is the recommended amount for prevention of osteoporosis (runs in my family), so I obviously clicked to read it when a friend posted it on Facebook. I was then confronted with a stream of bullshit, misinformation, and blatantly false claims. The author actually had the balls to suggest – in more than one place of the article – that saturated fats and cholesterol do not contribute to heart disease. Fucking absurd.

If you don’t want to eat genetically modified foods, fine. Don’t tell third-world children that they have to go without their genetically modified rice though, because if they do they will probably die of rickets. If you believe that all-fats are better than no fats, great. Don’t tell people that may have a different health situation that they’re going to perish prematurely, for reasons you cannot even justify with science. If you want to live a no-fats lifestyle, good for you! But shut your big fucking, whorish mouth when others choose to go with something that may turn into “fat, fat, and more fat ass.” If you want to go all-organic and local, cool. Don’t tell people that haven’t the money for healthier, local and organic options though that they’re wrong or going to die of some pesticide-related illness for just buying what they can to survive. Instead of forcing your uneducated beliefs on others, why not promote better education and independent research, since that is where the real problem lies?

For myself, I believe in eating a moderation of anything. I don’t believe in subscribing to sensationalized conspiracy theories that have absolutely no basis in science or fact. Sometimes I buy organic. Other times I buy processed (Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, duh!). I always buy organic meats. I will never stop buying (genetically modified) on the vine tomatoes, because they’re the fucking best.

Shut the Fuck Up Burger wants to join me in saying something to these cracked out, uneducated Food Conspiracists:

People That Get Sexual With Their Food

I love kale. That said, kale shakes taste like barf to me. Kale chips taste like I’m licking grass outside the innards of my husband’s rotting asshole. Same goes for a host of other things: brussel sprouts, wheat grass, onions, asiago cheese, etc.

Something that annoys me to no end is when people go on and on about how much they love [insert random food that tastes like puke on a platter to me]. If you really love it, fine. But stop spitting in the face of the rest of the universe that may think it tastes like a pile of puke. Everyone has different tastes; and what is with our obsession with talking about our food now, anyway? Is this what our lives really center around? The other day, one of my friends posted a Facebook status “if asiago cheese were a person, I’d marry it and have a bunch of cheese babies.” That’s funny, because the last time I tried asiago cheese I actually vomited from the taste, which your fucking Facebook status just reminded me of.

My favorite foods come in a variety. I love carrots, bananas, and dried peas. I eat edamame like a pig, licking the salt off my fingers and groaning and shit. I would die if I couldn’t eat asparagus at least twice a week. Ham sandwiches hit the spot, and (of course) my favorite dinner is either soba or a taco with rice and salsa (goddamn, do I love the salsa). I also like pretzels and string cheese, and have absolutely no self control when it comes to onion dip. But you don’t see me posting on Facebook and Twitter, or talking on the phone and shit, about how much I wish my food choices were a person so I could dry hump them to next Tuesday.

I get it. We have reached an age when we are having sensuous love affairs with our food. Tons of people get all horny over their food, and their appropriately seasoned dishes – I see it all the time.

To them: please stop. It makes me want to puke sometimes and never eat another thing again. Shut the Fuck Up Burger has just enough strength to muster up one more thing to say … and he wants to finish this edition of Shut the Fuck Up Fridays with something for you guys:

5 (More) Pet Peeves: Home Edition

We live in an apartment complex of some couple hundred places. There are town homes, condos, and apartments of all sizes. When we moved here – just in November of last year – we really liked it. The rent was affordable. The area was almost too quiet. There are pools, a work out room, and the complex is relatively close to a lot of local stuff.

And now, as my husband feared, I fucking hate it.

Don’t get me wrong, I prefer to live in apartments. For a while we considered buying a condominium, but the thought of being permanently tied to southern California would no doubt upgrade my difficulty finding reason to get out of bed in the morning to an utter inability to do so. I also like the idea of being able to get up and go without having to worry about too much, the sense of community, and some of the amenities as well as the ability to call maintenance for problems without having to deal with the cost and maintenance ourselves.

And still, as my husband feared, I fucking hate it.

I still like the affordable rent and all the stuff we have available to us. And I love the fact that we have had a lot of repairs that would have cost us an arm and a leg; yet, in reality cost us absolutely nothing since maintenance is included in our rent (unless we intentionally break shit). But some other things have happened since November that I don’t like. For one, no one abides by the pet policy (so it would seem), except for us. People are supposed to be allowed indoor cats only, and yet there are cats fucking everywhere. I hate cats with every breath in my body – I’m allergic and their dander and hair dropped on my front porch makes me sneeze and wheeze on a daily basis. Why the hell should I have to deal with that? Worse, as I have mentioned to you faithful blog followers before – one of those cats has completely destroyed my Midnight Jasmine. And don’t even get me started on the fact that they do not allow dogs of any kind and yet every other cotton-picking unit has a dog.

But it goes beyond the pets. Some hillbillies recent moved across the walkway. I can only assume these people are hillbillies because of the fact that I heard one of them say he lost his teeth. I see them come home with KFC and Taco Bell bags on a daily basis. It appears that none of them works, or at least works very little. By my count, there are 8 people living in the two bedroom apartment, with an additional 10 or so constantly coming in and out. They have parties every single fucking night. Every fucking night. They are loud. They are crude. Without a doubt they are hillbillies, and it is obvious that a lot of the neighbors don’t want to take it anymore (six other units have moved out since these people moved in).

Then this morning, we received a notice on our door that there have been recent burglaries in the area. So now our quiet and safe neighborhood is louder than shit until all hours of the night, and to make matters worse: unsafe.

SO I’m in a shitty mood (when am I NOT?). To blow off a little steam, I thought I would share five more of my pet peeves – home style ones. Now that I’ve gotten the neighborly ones off my chest already, my list focuses on my own house.

#5 Leaving recycling trash on the counter

I’m all for saving the planet, but sometimes it annoys the shit out of me. Not only do we produce very little recyclable waste, but we waste so much more in electronic waste as well as the enormous carbon footprint my husband’s car leaves behind. It thus seems almost a little childish to be making such a big deal about one ginger ale can once in a while. Not saying we shouldn’t recycle, just saying let’s keep things in perspective here.

We have no room in our place at all for a recycle can, so it sits out in our covered carport. The only job my husband has around the house is to take out the trash, which would of course include moving any of the recyclable things to the recycle can out by the cars. Annoying as all shit is when that recycling stuff, which my husband makes a federal case over “doing his part” for, is left on the kitchen counter – where I cook food. Trash, human garbage – often covered in bacteria and bits of food – left on the counter. Seriously – one fucking job.

#4 Wasting money “trying new things” that turn out to be crap

Last night we wasted an entire bottle of the crappiest wine I have ever had. Just as with saving the planet, I’m all for trying new things. But at some point, and with certain things, I really think we should stick with our “go-to”s, unless we have money to flush down the toilet.

Or down the drain, in this instance.

My husband convinced me to buy a new bottle of wine at World Market the other day. I was going to get one of my regulars but instead we got this Radio Buzz crap from Spain. When we opened it last night, you could actually smell the alcohol – it was that shitty. A couple sips and I couldn’t take it. Just a few more for my husband and the whole thing was dumped down the drain. I’m so tired of wasting money on stuff like that.

#3 Continuing to pretend like we are horticulturists

Speaking of wasting money, it has become my pet peeve that we must continue this little charade that we are horticulturists. As long as I have known my husband, and as long as we have been living together, we have been unable to keep plants alive. If our own lives depended on it, we would have been dead a long time ago.

I’ve done research, I’ve tried all kinds of different things – I just can’t keep them alive. Had a cat not killed my Midnight Jasmine, here, I would have (eventually). I have no idea at this point how much money we have wasted on this little project over the years, but at the very least the most recent destruction of foliage comes to $115 wasted. We bought those in February.

Maybe #4 and #3 would really be combined into one main pet peeve: wasting money stupidly.

#2 Leaving hairs in the sink

This really hacks me off. While laying in bed this morning, I could hear my husband trimming his beard and my blood pressure immediately began to rise because I knew that when I got to the sink it would be full of those little, annoying hairs.

They wouldn’t be so goddamned annoying if they didn’t clog the drain. I know they clog the drain and that my husband hasn’t told the maintenance people yet we need the drain unclogged. I also know that every time the maintenance people come they tell me to stop allowing my husband to try and fix things himself, because it usually makes the problems worse (this last time they said the management will start charging us for repairs because his attempt at fixing the shower door made it more difficult for them to fix, and they can always tell … how embarrassing that was).

So immediately after my husband leaves, I have to get up and wipe all of those disgusting fucking hairs out of the sink so that it doesn’t clog even more. Big annoyance.

#1 Not wiping crumbs off the counter/table

Oh my God faithful blog followers, this is the tip of the iceberg for me. I’m not sure why it makes me so crazy, but whenever anyone in this place leaves crumbs or smudges of shit on the counters or the kitchen table, I go absolutely bonkers. Maybe it’s because I have usually just cleaned only to see that a mess has been made. Maybe it’s because sometimes it’s in the form of leaving a knife with peanut butter on it sitting in the sink – the sink that was cleaned and will now have to be cleaned again. I don’t know, but I usually go ballistic about it. Like I did this morning.

There they are. My five (more) pet peeves. The home edition. Maybe the marriage edition. Maybe I’m just on the rag and pissed off at the world. Or just those hillbillies across the walkway.

There are few things you can get for $2.99 anymore…

…and my book is one of them!

Seriously, faithful blog followers. I engaged in so much snark and sass last year I thought that the only way to best assemble it all into one place would be to do so in an eBook. And it’s packed full of old as well as some new material too. For only $2.99, it’s a steal.

If you do not own a Kindle, you can still download it to a Kindle app on any of your smartphone, tablet, or computers; and if that even fails, you may still read it on the Kindle cloud drive directly online on your Amazon account.

So follow the link http://www.amazon.com/itch-Against-World-HeatherChristenaSchmidt-com-ebook/dp/B007D1QWWY/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1 and buy the book! And thanks in advance your ongoing support of my writing. I truly hope you enjoy it as much as I do!