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About skatoolaki : In a land where ghosts and ghost stories were as common and accepted as the gray, curling moss dripping from the oak and pecan trees, the art of storytelling was a rite of passage in any young Southerners' life.
As for myself, quite literally raised "on the bayou", I was not immune to this bard-like existence.
Writing since I could hold a pen, I have put out an extensive mess of words that have, over the years, accumulated into a myriad of web sites, blogs, and even a few published works. Words do not – yet – a paycheck make, however, and I currently pay the bills as a web designer. I keep up my geeky street cred with a website (skatoolaki.com) and blog (digitopus.com).
I reside in Louisiana's lovely capital city of Baton Rouge with my boyfriend of 13 years, 4 cats, and a fish named Google.
And, no, my other car is not a pirogue.
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Today, I chatted to a nice guy and gave him my number. I told him I was going to sleep because I had a headache, and then put my phone on silent. He rang multiple times, and when I obviously didn't pick up, he sent several texts insulting me and calling me gutless for not responding. FML
Today, my husband injured his back badly. He's taken three percocets, because according to him, he knows the dosage better than his doctor, and is demanding that I let him drive himself to work, with no pants on. FML
Today, I came home early to surprise my wife. No, it's not what you're thinking: I didn't find her cheating on me. She wasn't even home, but my dad was. He'd used his spare key and was on my sofa, drinking my beer and watching my TV. The first words out of his mouth? "Your beer's shit." FML
Today, while walking to work, I found out what it feels like to be hit in the face by a rolled up newspaper thrown from the window of a moving car by a paper boy doing his rounds. It hit hard enough to give me a black eye. FML
Today, at my father's funeral, they were playing the song from Phantom of the Opera where she sings about her lost father. Apparently the song organizer forgot to edit out the part where her romantic interest runs toward her and yells, "That... That THING is not your father!" FML
Today, it's been almost a week since I returned from my vacation to Ireland. Before I rarely drank. Now I'm pretty sure I'm an alcoholic. You might think I'm joking, but I've woken up hungover every day since I landed there. I basically paid to kill my liver and become AA's next poster child. FML
Today, I was playing Mario Kart with my wife. I threw a blue shell and it hit her. She then refused to speak to me for three hours straight until right before bedtime when she called me a bastard and told me to sleep on the couch. FML
Today, my boss threw out the report I wrote for the board of directors. He said that if it were legal, he'd smash me in the balls with a brick for using Comic Sans. I had to do the whole thing again in another font with my coworkers snickering at me. FML
Today, while on a tour bus, our guide told us that "Jimi Hendrix was like, uh, the Miley Cyrus of the '60s." I'm actually a committed pacifist, but I was already halfway out of my seat to choke the pimply-faced twat out before I managed to restrain myself. Now I'm scared of myself. FML
Today, I succeeded in getting a seat on a crowded bus. I regretted this when, after a couple of stops, a big guy boarded the bus and stood next to me with his penis pressed against my shoulder. Longest. Bus ride. Ever. FML
Today, I hooked up with a girl at a club, and we had sex. She just lay there like a corpse the whole time. It got so bad, I ended up faking an orgasm and blaming the lack of semen on a botched vasectomy. She actually believed it. What the hell? FML
Friday 17 October 2014