What Is Really InJensMind?

What is really InJensMind? Absolutely freaking nothing! HA…

I can’t even begin to tell you all how overwhelmed I feel at times. My mind is always racing 100 m.p.h. except for the times when it is up to 200 m.p.h. which is usually when I am trying to sleep. I’ve come to notice something about myself recently and well I can’t help to wonder if it is just me or is there something else. Something… deeper, that is going on.

My brain is fried. You know like the egg in the skillet in the old 80’s anti-drug campaign commercials. You have no idea how much I despise eggs let alone a fried one inside my skull. But, it is true, my memory is kaput. I mean… Sure, I can remember certain things, i.e. my shitty childhood, birthdays, every single inch of every single building/house I have ever stepped foot in. Because who wouldn’t kill to own that delightful and mind-blowing skill!?! Can’t remember where I parked the car but, don’t fret I can envision with exceptional detail, every aisle in the grocery store without stepping foot in it. Humph! But, what I cannot remember is, have I ever told someone this story before? What did I eat for breakfast? Who is that person that keeps messaging me, have we spoken before? Where’d I put my cellphone? When was the last time I took a shower? Did I take my pills today?

I’m seriously surprised I can even finish a post. LOL It’s comical but, still it really isn’t. There are many things that I can’t seem to recall. Tiny inconsequential things but, many things.  An entire lifetime of things. I’m not sure if this is some kind of premature Alzheimer’s, my insulin resistance issue, a brain tumor, caffeine/sugar/carb overload, lack of refreshing sleep at night, being married for nearly 19 years, never leaving my house to socialize with anyone who doesn’t bark or was grown inside of my womb, a freakish Zombie brain eating accident, the lack of mind-blowing sex (oh wait, that wouldn’t be helpful whatsoever… or would it!?!) or just years of blocking out traumatic details to the point I don’t know anything other than my name. And even that is iffy at this moment. What’s my name? No really, what’s my mother****ing name? Sorry, I had a former rapper flashback.

All I know is, this is really beginning to bother me. Maybe, I should see someone about this. In the meantime… can someone give me Dr. Frankenstein’s number? I’m sure he has a few extra brains just lying around unused. Ooo EEEEgor, ver eeee’s meeee brain? Coming Master!!!

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NaPoWriMo Day:3 A Pirate’s Limerick

There once was a girl rather dumb
who dressed like a pirate for fun
she’d enter the bar
all a sudden yell arrr
then swallow seamen with her rum

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin 

I Became A Boy So I Could Play Baseball

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I am the oldest girl in my family; my father had three daughters and always yearned for a son.

Naturally, it became my job to carry out his fantasy. Believe me when I say, I would have much rather been taught how to be a girl but, it just wasn’t in the cards for me.

From the time I could walk I had a baseball in my hand, pretty strange for a little girl but, dad for some twisted reason needed me to play the son role.

My sister who was two years younger than me, got to play girl, in some ways I envy that but, in other ways I don’t. Since I was daddy’s little boy, I learned how to play sports like a boy.

There was no girl who played baseball like I played baseball. I could throw hard and far, I could hit any kind of pitch thrown at me and I could switch hit. Those of you who know nothing about baseball; switch hitting is when you hit right-handed then switch to hitting left-handed or vice versa. Being, ambidextrous, I have always excelled with either hand.

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As I got older I started playing softball because that was what “girls” played and even though I was good at it, it was not baseball. I spent my days practicing; throwing, catching and batting. Dad had a wooden bat I practiced with; it was heavy but, if I could swing that and hit the ball, just imagine what I would do with a light-weight aluminum bat.

Every weekend during the summer when dad would come home from work, we would go up to the park for baseball practice. Dad would pitch and I would hit and then we would switch. I could strike dad out several times while playing; my sports abilities were the only thing I received praise for.

The thing I can say about dad teaching me to play baseball is I played like a man; both dad and I could hit damn near any kind of pitch, including ones you would never swing at if you were playing in the Major League. If the ball was within arm reach we would swing at it. It was all in fun and kept our talent at maximum peak.

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One day the family went up to the park and played our usual game of baseball. I was pitching, my step-mom was catching, my sisters were in the outfield and dad was batting. He managed to hit a few of my pitches then all of a sudden, I throw this one pitch that maybe dad shouldn’t have swung at. In fact, I know he should NEVER have swung at that. Dad managed to tip the ball with the bat and we all stood shocked as the ball circled high in the sky and CRASHED right into the windshield of his car that was parked on the other side of the fence. It took a few moments and finally dad laughed; “Look what you did.” he told me. “What?! I didn’t hit it.” I replied. Dad never parked that close to the fence ever again.

 

I can honestly say this is a happy memory from my childhood and I am ok with being treated like a boy so I could have the excellent baseball playing skills I posess. There are many things I might change from back then if I could but, this gift I wouldn’t change for anything.

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We’re Getting An Indoor Pool

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It’s been hot as Satan’s scrotum outside for over a week and even though I have the AC running I am sweaty my ass off…… inside the freaking house. That is just unfreakinnatural if you ask me.

Even after dark it’s still hot enough where the AC is working overtime. I dread my electric bill next month; it took us forever to start catching up on the gas bill from the furnace running all winter.

I am almost half tempted to buy a plastic pool and a sprinkler and set up a water park in the basement. I don’t think my landlord will mind.

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Think of the fun the kids and I could have…. Swimming now, ice skating in winter.

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Oh yea I can’t see a downside to this.

We could wear our clothes and I could throw in bubbles….wooooo haha instant washing of the clothes. Plus the floors would be spotless from the water and soap. I really think this could work.

I could put the pool at the bottom of the stairs and a slip n slide on the stairs….. weeeeeee splash.

Ok maybe…. this isn’t a good idea, with my luck I would break my neck on the way down. I might even make it to the pool and then knock myself out on the cement.

I have fallen down many stairs before and I don’t want to do that again. Broken toes and twisted ankles are not fun. Then there are always scrapes, bruises and potential concussions. I am bummed now…. Looks like I get to experience a bummer summer after all.

By the way kiddies don’t do this in your parent’s basement…..unless you ask them first that is.

Can somebody find me a contractor; I don’t want to lose my security deposit.

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Life Is A Buffet

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I will never understand how life is a highway….don’t get me wrong I do love the song. I get the whole metaphor that life is the road or destination, we are the vehicle and we control or steer where we go……. yada yada yada.

But, what do we do on highways? We drive on them to destinations but, we speed. The whole purpose of a highway over that of a regular road is to cut down the amount of time we spend driving. It is not the scenic route it is the fast way. I can see how some people may prefer to speed through life but, nobody ever actually gets there any faster by speeding. Continue reading

Who You Callin Old?

I am not old…
am I???
NO, I AM NOT OLD
I disapprove….
But, my knees disagree
and just argue with me
when I try to move.
At 2:30 A.M. I was trying to sleep
my leg began aching making me weep
I mumbled
and grumbled
and roared
then I stumbled
through the jumbled
mess on the floor
I had to find relief
to end my impending grief….
So I grabbed a bottle of pills
that only gave me the chills
so I put them back down.
I then grabbed the ben-gay
it reeked I must say
only making me frown.
I got up once more
but walking was a chore
I was going insane
from this crippling pain.
When I reached my room
in the back did loom
exactly what I required.
Right there in the drawer
closest to the floor
was the knee brace that I desired.
I then sat on the bed
but I just shook my head
because my hands felt fragile like glass….
So I tried it again
but,
let me tell you my friend
getting old is a PAIN IN THE ASS!!!
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Fallen In Love

Hi my name is Jen
let me tell you where I’ve been
I just visited this blog post
and I don’t mean to boast
but I have fallen in love
with a blog.
The words the blog pens
makes my hair stand up on ends
I won’t attempt to deny it
so I have to admit
that I have fallen in love
with a blog.
The photos are keen
every detail is pristine
I want to hold them tight to me
and then you all will see
how I have fallen in love
with a blog.
The blog didn’t show
interest in being my beau
puddles of tears fell down like rain
and my heart was in pain
cuz I had fallen in love
with a blog.
So sadly it ends
and we can’t even be friends
for I had given my whole heart
and it wasn’t too smart
that I had fallen in love
with a blog.
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Wake Up And Go To Sleep


A friend of mine asked me the other day, “Don’t you ever just sleep?” My answer is…No!!!!!

I can’t remember the last time I had a full night of sleep. Even if I do manage to fall asleep I toss and turn and move, again and again and yet again. Eventually you would think you’re body would just give up and you’d fall deep asleep and wake up refreshed. But, noooo my body is as obstinate as I am…keeps on fighting through the sleep deprivation day after day after day. As you can see I refuse to give up the fight….

I yawn and I lay down hoping, praying, and begging; “PLEASE let me sleep, just long enough to get some real refreshing rest.” I lay there, mind racing about the million things I have to do. Then I finally say to myself, “For the sake of all things holy Jennifer, just STOP thinking and SLEEP!!!” But, noooo I give up and get up because the longer I lay there the less anything is getting done. I grab another caffeinated drink or an energy shot hoping that it will boost me just enough to get through the 100’s of chores I need to do. Alas, NOTHING…..NADA….ZILCH.

No sleep and no boost of energy. ARRRGGGHHH. So now I am stuck somewhere between the brain dead living and slobbering zombie. Fun right?? Ummm, NO!! I have been prescribed sleeping meds before and I was scared out of my mind every time I took one. My husband and daughter have night terrors. It’s like sleep walking and talking only magnified by 5 with nightmarish screaming. My husband yells and then destroys whatever is in his path. My daughter screams and runs around the house trying to get out. It is scary as hell to watch and I feel helpless; it is also one of the reasons I have not gotten much sleep since my daughter was born.

The pills didn’t help though; I thought that the pills would keep me from waking up fast enough to stop them from hurting themselves or someone else. Not only did I wake up I had a hard time falling back to sleep. Not exactly the cure I was hoping for. So here I am a platinum card member of the walking dead and no relief in sight.

Ok, so I obviously have a problem and need help. I think it’s time to hop off the caffeine completely and become a Chamomile addict. God help my family while I go through withdrawals. I think I will make that call to the doctor and get a renewed sleeping pill prescription. If it doesn’t work, (because you know I have to put a little pessimism into it) then I will write about commercials that promise shit they can’t deliver. LOL

Not even love is free

They say the best things in life are free
but, I will have to disagree.
Not because I am materialistic
but, just for a second let’s be realistic.
Everything in life has a price
give me a moment, I’ll try to be concise.
Even in love you have to pay something
eventually it will be in the form of a ring.
But, first you begin by giving a kiss
then one gets returned if you do not resist.
Now that isn’t money but, it is a trade
and is considered a way to get paid.
As you continue you move on to dates
and the more things you do the higher the rates.
There’s nothing you can do once the trading starts
for next thing you know you are paying with hearts.
So I tell you my friends love is just like a whore
and in the end you always get what you pay for.

Gustav Klimt – Gustav Klimt Love Painting

Banned in the USA Parody

We’ve got white breasted turkey you love to eat
cuz nobody likes to eat dark meat
lots of giblets to make gravy
pigging out on Thanksgiving
cranberry sauce and stuffing too
if you want to eat good just pass on through
all types of food to fill your gut
just grab a plate sit on your butt
pumpkin pies we’ve made from scratch
if it’s store bought it must be trash
we want our veggies fresh not frozen
homemade salads is what we’ve chosen
lazy people won’t make shit by hand
rather microwave it from a can
wisen up cuz on Thanksgiving day
we don’t want canned in the USA

I WANT TO WISH YOU ALL A HAPPY, HEALTHY,SAFE THANKSGIVING!
GOBBLE GOBBLE

Play That Funky Music- Vanilla Ice Parody

Yo Vanilla kick it one time boooooy

Oh yea gotta gotta yep yep

No need to dougie just dance to honkey music til ya die

Watch me now it’s in my timin
I can’t rap but I keep on tryin
Wiggas thought I couldn’t rap diss
so I showed em all I’m a racist
Yo Ice, everybody is rollin
cuz they know that beat is stolen
If you wanna stop me you can sue
Vanilla is broke so hey fuck you
I fell off but I ain’t takin it
I can’t rap so now I’m rockin it
Scary, like the mask in Scream
my rap is tight yea in my dreams
Ladies, I wanna rock with you
but I dance too white you know it’s true
I’m white don’t need to say it twice

Play that honkey music vanilla Ice!

Play that honkey music
Play that honkey muisc riiiight-Pump it up
Play that honkey music riiiight– I can’t hear you
No need to dougie just dance to honkey music til ya die

Play that honkey music
Play that honkey muisc riiiight-Pump it up
Play that honkey music riiiight– I can’t hear you
No need to dougie just dance to honkey music til ya die

Like to Wear (Whip My Hair Parody)

I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(just wear it)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(wear it real good)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts 

Hop up out the shower slap my oil on
ain’t no sense wearing pants cuz later your gonna rip em off
so I turn on my favorite song
so don’t tell me nothin I’m just tryna get u sprung
so keep my booty popping

So what’s up(yea)
I’m just trying to get to you
I turn my back
I walk over there and just shake it off
shake it off,shake it off, shake it off

All these haters can just get in line
keep on shakin til I get mine
keep shaking until I pass out
if you like what you’re seeing just shout.

I like to wear booty shorts 
I like to wear booty shorts(just wear it)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(wear it real good)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(just wear it)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(wear it real good)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(just wear it)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts(wear it real good)
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts
I like to wear booty shorts


Fast Food Critic Bob joins Twitter

 I log on my twitter but I can’t get away
I found all these restaurants I love so I think I will stay.
Burger King, McDonald’s my god Wendy’s too
I tweet them like I eat them what else can I do?
My bio says..If you serve it they will come
just because I’m Obese doesn’t mean I am dumb.
My day was going so terribly bad
til I logged on my twitter and saw a Pizza Hut ad.
I grabbed my cellphone and called them right quick
a couple large pizzas should do the trick.
I sent a tweet “@PizzaHut I love all your food”
they sent me one back which uplifted my mood.
“@FastFoodCriticBob we appreciate your loyalty”
I put on my Burger King crown cuz you know I am royalty.
Staring at my timeline I almost piss my pants
I see a tweet from Taco Bell that has me in a trance.
I wobble out my door and drive to the Border
to buy the new burrito called The Engorder.
I finally get home with my big burrito sack
my life would be complete if they’d follow me back
There is nothing weird about me I just love to eat
nothing wrong with a belly that touches my feet.
I have to thank Twitter and all of it’s trends
for all of my new fast food restaurant friends.

Keyboard Killers

E thug this, E thug that
how G can you be typing in a chat.
Clickity clack your fingers are flying
if you say you’re somebody you must be lying.
Making E threats, shooting blanks
does your army come with little plastic tanks?
The royalty of roasting, you must smoke crack
to think you do damage from a keyboard attack.
Ain’t nobody hurting except maybe your hand
chronic carpal tunnel hope you got an insurance plan.
You can’t win a war from a keyboard
but when it comes to spamming you get the award.
The net is so great it let’s you pretend
but, your life still sucks when your library time comes to an end.