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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 11 years, 5 cats, and a fish named Google.
And, no, my other car is not a pirogue.
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Today, a lady handed me a $10 tip on a $45 bill. I was happy with it, since it was more than 20%, until she came back in and said, "I'm sorry I gave you the wrong amount." I handed it back to her and then she gave me a dollar. FML
Today, in a waiting room, my 4-year-old daughter told me she saw two guys kissing. I quietly explained that some men like men, they're gay, and normal like everyone else. I was pleased with myself until the woman across from me scoffed and muttered, "Disgusting." FML
Today, I retrieved the wrong luggage from an airport carousel. I'm now the owner of two water-bras, a false beard, a bag of cat litter, and some anal beads. I am afraid to get in touch with the original owner. FML
Today, I was glued to the toilet all day, gushing fountains of crap, due to my own bad cooking. It got so bad that I ran out of toilet paper and had to desperately jump in the shower and stay there for nearly two hours. I can't even feel my own asshole any more. FML
Today, I found out the reason our toilet paper has been disappearing so fast recently isn't because my son is wanking like a gibbon as I first thought. He's just been using our shredder to make streamers out of the stuff, then hiding it all in a box in his closet. Fucking hell, son. FML
Today, it's been a week since I found an egg in the street that had seemingly fallen out of a nest. I'd bought a cage and an expensive incubator lamp to save it. It's thus been a week that I've been trying to save a mouldy old potato. FML
Today, my teen son gave me the completed manuscript of the novel he's been working on for 4 years. Surprised and excited that he showed so much dedication to something, I volunteered to read it. I'm only on page 16 and it's absolute drivel, with grammar that makes my eyes bleed. Only 281 pages to go. FML
Friday 19 September 2014