(Above: Left - Kate, my girlfriend, Middle - Calliope, our furbaby, Right - Kate, me, blogger)

I'm a gay housewife in chronic pain who loves Jesus, ladies, and music. I do me rather unapologetically. Deal, gurl.


We Spoke to the Alaskan Reporter Who Quit Her Job on Live TV to Run a Weed Dispensary | VICE United States


60 years ago in April 1954, first baseman Tom Alston became the first African-American player to wear the Birds on the Bat. Six weeks after Alston’s debut, the Cardinals called up a 30-year old righthander from Triple-A Columbus. On May 31st, 1954, Bill Greason became the first black pitcher in Cardinals franchise history. Bill’s pitching career in St. Louis was brief – he appeared in only three total games before being sent back to Columbus. He spent another six years in the Cardinals minor league system and upon retirement from baseball, he began another storied phase of his life as a pastor of the Bethel Baptist Church in Birmingham.

The Reverend Bill Greason has worn many hats and seen a lot of history in his long and storied life. A native of Atlanta, GA, Reverend Greason grew up as a child in the same neighborhood as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Reverend Greason was a Montford Point Marine, part of the storied detachment that landed on Iwo Jima in World War II. He was among the Marines honored in Washington in 2012 with our nation’s highest civilian award, the Congressional Gold Medal.

He played for five years in the Negro Leagues, and was a teammate of Willie Mays on the Negro American League Champion Birmingham Black Barons of 1948. In 1952, he broke the Oklahoma professional sports color barrier when he took the mound for the AAA Oklahoma City Indians.

Reverend Greason’s career on the mound for the Cardinals may have been brief, but he has a very significant place in franchise history as a pioneer and trailblazer.

On September 21, 2014, the Cardinals honored Rev. Greason before the game and celebrated his special role in the history of our great franchise.

The video I posted is done by a master troll. And I mean _master_.

Check out his page: http://www.saveportlandfromhell.com/

It’s an awesome piece of truly dedicated trolling. Probably the best I’ve ever seen.

Bravo, good sir.



This is what happens to a basketball court when the pipes burst

this is the greatest basketball challenge of all time



This is what happens to a basketball court when the pipes burst

this is the greatest basketball challenge of all time

Spanking, Discipline, Torture

My very progressive parents spanked me as a child, and I honestly think that I am a better person because of it.

Discipline was and is necessary to raise a child. You can successfully bring up a well-adjusted child without spanking them, but I think that spanking helps drive home the “you cannot do this" point in a way that timeouts and losses of privileges cannot.

One spank, open-handed on my butt, and it was over. I think it was just one, at least. Regardless, I definitely deserved it.

What Adrian Peterson did to his son was not discipline, it was torture. I learned from Keith Olbermann’s show tonight that Adrian repeatedly hit the boy with a switch, which produced cuts on the boy’s legs, ankles, thighs, buttocks, and scrotum. Defensive wounds on the child’s hands prove that he tried to stop his professional football player father “from hitting him with a small tree branch.”

The four-year-old also said that Adrian “stuffed leaves in his mouth” while hitting him, and that he was afraid if he told what happened that Adrian would punch him in the face.

Keep in mind that Adrian’s two-year-old son died seven months ago because of child abuse at the hands of the child’s mother’s boyfriend, which happened because the man was “disciplining” the toddler.

What happened in these cases is not discipline though; it is torture. Discipline instructs a child on how to be a better human being, while torture breaks down a child, wounding their body for weeks and their soul for a life time. Torture brings grown men to tears when they see a stranger of a certain height/weight/race at the grocery store because it conjures up images of their abusers, or why certain people refuse to wear belts.

This kind of torture is physical and psychological and, thank God, illegal in America. It does not matter if “that was the way you were brought up” or if it’s “regional” or “cultural;” it is wrong. We have decided, as a culture, I grant sometimes at a painfully slow pace, that some things that were once considered the norm to not be acceptable anymore. Cultures change and evolve, and in this instance I believe it is for the better.

Don’t torture your children. Period.

[I know the legal definition for what happened is abuse, but I think the word torture is a better one for this situation.]

Fifth Crapiversary

August 29 was the five year anniversary of being disowned by Pastor Kay Hooper, and you know what I did?

I enjoyed my excellent life with my awesome girlfriend and her new friends from UNC at a lovely little burger shack in Chapel Hill. I had an amazing burger, some Pepsi, and an ice cream sandwich with vanilla ice cream and amaretto/almond cookies. All of the above was divine.

Because really, the best way to spend a Crapiversary is to be profoundly happy. True joy is the ultimate push back to people who have been unspeakably, repeatedly, completely awful to you. Their horrendous behavior is because they are totally miserable and don’t know how to deal with things in a way that isn’t destructive. As a consequence they are supremely unhappy and occasionally (or not-so-occasionally) inflict their dysfunction onto others who were naive enough to trust them.

Joy doesn’t come fast, either. The damage caused does not repair in a day or a week or a year. It takes a lot of crying and processing to get to joy again. But because you’re not awful and dysfunctional and miserable with your existence, you do arrive there. And it is so lovely.

I’ve only been to a Quaker meeting once, but I still find this tumblr absolutely hilarious and spot-on.

I’ve only been to a Quaker meeting once, but I still find this tumblr absolutely hilarious and spot-on.

Things I’ve Cooked Lately (alfredo + pork chops + patooter soup)

Hey there toomblurr. It’s that time again! The time when my hip hurts and I can’t sleep so I write a Tumblr post at 3 a.m.because eh why not.

Here’s what I’ve been making lately:

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