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  • The Worst Day of My Life! (Munch’s Eye Surgery Saga)

    The night before Munch’s wandering eye surgery I couldn’t sleep. Not only because The Munch was getting her eyeball cut open the next day, but also because The Munch was getting HER FUCKING EYE BALL CUT OPEN THE NEXT DAY! I guess the thing I was most nervous about was the anesthesia. It would be a real bummer if that shit killed my kid.

    We had to wake up at 5:45 in the morning to get to the hospital on time. The Munch was in good spirits, and there was a beautiful sunrise on the way. Seemed like a good day to stay alive. When we got there we were waiting in the waiting room and a mother came out from the back where the surgeries were taking place. She was hysterical, and collapsed in her husband’s arms to weep. Munch’s dad and I looked at each other and were like “holy shit.”

    The woman was crying because she had just watched her kid go under, which was obviously pretty traumatic. I looked at Munch who was peacefully coloring, and knew I was in for a fucking experience. Yet because I am a good New England woman who was raised by WASPs, I also knew I would probably just keep all my feelings deep inside and have mental breakdown later when it was appropriate.

    When we were called in, we went to the back room to get prepared. They gave The Munch hospital pajama’s to put on – which was probably the most traumatic part of the story from her perspective. The Munch did NOT want to wear these tiger pajamas. She is SUPER compulsive about her clothes, and seriously wears the same outfit for 3 months in a row. Getting her to change her clothes is like trying to change the mind of a religious fundamentalist.

    But you know what? Because The Munch is a good New England child raised by WASPs, she kept all her feelings inside and put on the outfit. There were a pair of yellow sox she didn’t want to wear, because she NEVER wears socks inside, but when the nurse asked her to put them on, she complied.

    The Munch was then poked, prodded, examined, and check out. She did everything she was asked, and was extremely cooperative. The nurses and doctor kept saying “what a good listener she is,” and “she is so composed and brave!” Which she was! She knows how to be stoic in times of stress, but I also knew that she wasn’t expressing what she was actually feeling – because she learned from the BEST!

    The Munch was then asked what flavor she wanted her anesthesia mask to smell like, and she chose watermelon. When it was time to take her back, I had to put on MY blue hospital gown and doctor’s hair net. And holy shit I did not like that… especially since I and been wearing the same thing all week.

    I held Munch’s hand, and we walked to the operation room – both in outfits we did NOT like. The room was filled with nurses with their blue masks. Munch was told to lie on the bed, and when she did, her little body looked so small. The nurses started strapping her down, and put the anesthesia mask on her face.

    Toni: Does it smell like watermelon?

    Munch nodded her head, and looked around. I put my hand on her heart, and started doing reiki on her. (I of course am a certified reiki practitioner which is a type of healing touch – I mean you can’t be a new age mom and NOT practice reiki. It’s in the handbook). The Munch looked into my eyes and I smiled at her. You can’t act scared in situations like that! Even though in my mind I was thinking “ummmmm this is so mother fucking scary, maybe this was a bad idea.” I was trying remain calm as Munch’s tiny body convulsed as the anesthesia took over.

    Nurse: This is totally normal… nothing to worry about. She is already asleep.

    Munch’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she thrashed around. Then suddenly, she was still. It kind of looked like she died.

    Nurse: Give her a kiss on her cheek.

    I kissed Munch on her cheek and everyone looked at me.

    Nurse: Are you okay?

    Toni: Of course.

    I went back out the waiting room and immediately sat down to meditate. So yeah, maybe it is kinda weird to be sitting on a waiting room floor meditating, but that is the kind of person I am. I then did some distance reiki on Munch to support the surgery. Which also included whispering and weird gestures. Again, because that is how I roll.

    The TV was on, and I could hear Curious George. It was the same episode Munch was watching on the drive to the hospital. It made me think of her, and wonder if the sound of Curious George would forever mock me if something terrible happened.

    After two hours the doctor came, told us everything had gone well, and that she was sleeping. The doctor explained that she was going to go do another surgery, then come back and check on Munch because if she had over-corrected/under-corrected the eye, she was going to have to do another surgery that day.

    Now part of me thinks that if Ben Carson is a skilled surgeon, then surgery can’t be THAT hard. But isn’t it also kind of insane that a doctor operates on MULTIPLE people a day. If I had just cut open a kid’s face, I think I would need the rest of the morning to recover.

    When The Munch finally woke up, she was in a lot of pain and really disoriented.

    Munch: Can I put my clothes back on?

    The Nurse: We have to wait for the doctor to see you first.

    We sat with Munch as she tried to make sense of the world, and I held an ice pack to her face. The doctor came and put all these eye drops in her eyes, which really stung and hurt her. But The Munch didn’t complain, and just let it happen.

    Doctor: She is probably the easiest patient I have ever had.

    I started to FREAK THE FUCK OUT that the doctor was going to say she had to go back in and do another surgery. I watched as she did all her doctor texts, and noticed she was surprisingly peppy considering she had just done 3 operations and it wasn’t even 10:30 am. Usually by 10:30 I have accomplished eating breakfast and not peeing on my hands.

    Thank Mother Gaia the doctor was happy with her job, and said we could leave.

    Munch: Can I put my clothes back on now?

    We brought The Munch home, and she was pretty fucking miserable.

    Munch: This was the worst day of my life! Almost as bad as if I had Becca over for a playdate!

    Toni: Whoa really? And is Becca really that bad that she is worse than surgery?

    Munch: She is just so annoying and asks too many questions.

    Toni: Well, I hope you are nice to her anyway.

    Munch: I am. I just never wanna have her over for a playdate!

    The doctor had given us eye drops and eye gel to put in Munch’s eye for the healing process. But you know what you really don’t want to happen to your eye after people have been cutting it open it all day? Putting eye drops or eye-jelly in it! I knew she didn’t want to do it, but Munch’s eye also looked like a cyborg! The whites were completely red, and I felt like I should probably do what I was told.

    Toni: Listen Munch, Mama will do the eye drops first, and you will see it doesn’t hurt. It’s not the stingy kind the doctor had. That kind had steroids in it. This is just plain moisturizing eye drops!


    The Munch then started to cry… but these weren’t normal tears. These were tears of blood. Seriously, my child was CRYING BLOOD! Part of me wanted to take a picture of it for Instagram. It was just so poetic, and disturbing. But even I knew that wasn’t a good idea. (Please note that was me being SUPER mature and putting someone’s feelings above my own artistic social media expressions).

    Toni: Watch Munch, I will do it to myself and show you it doesn’t hurt!

    I put the eye drops in my eye, and you know what? It fucking hurt.

    Toni: Uhhh let’s try the jelly instead.

    After an hour of negotiations and 4 cookies later I finally got the jelly in her eye.

    That night I slept in the bed with Munch because I wanted to make sure she was okay. It was a bit like sleeping next to a rabid octopus who was on meth. She did not sleep the whole night. She kept thrashing, pulling at the covers, sitting up, and wiggling around. By the time morning came around I was delirious.

    Toni: Munch are you okay? You didn’t sleep all night.

    Munch: How do you know that?

    Toni: Because you were moving around and I was right next to you! Was your eye hurting?

    Munch: Yes but I didn’t want to complain. I was trying not to wake you up so you could sleep.

    Ummmmm that is so fucking sweet, and obviously indicative of how many times in my life I tell her not to wake me up!!!

    The Munch wanted to play with her toys, but she also was seeing double out of the eye she got surgery on. The first thing she wanted to do was make a necklace out of beads. You know what is really hard to do? String beads onto a necklace when you fucking can’t see. It was so heartbreaking to watch her attempts, and a really ironic activity choice on her end. She would eventually get the bead on after about, oh I don’t know… 45 tries or so. Then she wanted to play with her “play mobile toys,” which are literally the size of molecules. All her toys are so goddamn tiny!!!!!!!!! Why can’t they make a princess crown that is bigger than a ladybug wing?!

    At this point Munch’s eye really hurt, but she didn’t wanna take the medicine.

    Munch: I don’t want that grape medicine because it is too sweet, and so was the watermelon they made me breathe in! IT IS TOO SWEET AND I WON’T TAKE IT!

    Okay, so I guess that serves me right for being an organic eating hippy who gives Munch dirt flavored gum as a treat.

    I tried putting the medicine in ice-cream, but she wouldn’t eat it. I tried crushing up the pills, hiding it in Nutella, and spreading on toast – but after a few bites she noticed.

    Munch: Why does this Nutella taste like grape?

    Toni: It doesn’t.

    Munch: Then what is this purple powder right here? YOU ARE TRICKING ME!!!!! WHY ARE YOU TRICKING ME!!?

    Toni: I’m sorry! I just want you to fell better! I don’t know how else to make you take the medicine.


    My mom then went to the store to get “baby aspirin,” which according to my mom tasted delicious. She gave it to Munch who immediately spit it out.

    Toni: Come on Munch, just eat it.


    Toni: No it doesn’t Here, lemme try it. I will show you.

    I took one of the “baby aspirin” and chewed it to show Munch she was being ridiculous.

    Toni: Jesus H. Christ that is fucking disgusting!!!!!!!!! Give me that bottle mom.

    So it turns out it was just regular aspirin. Not children’s chewable aspirin. Just adult aspirin you swallow. Now not only had I taken an aspirin for the first time in 15 years for no goddamn reason, but I also couldn’t get the taste of aspirin out of my mouth for the next three days.


    My mom went BACK to the store and got another painkiller that tasted like cherry. Thank god Munch would take that one.

    That night I was really on the brink of sanity. I was trying for an hour to get Munch to do the eye jelly, and she wouldn’t. Every time I got close, she would get super upset and run away. I couldn’t hold her down, because it is her eye I am dealing with, and you can’t force someone’s eye open.

    Munch: I don’t want you to see the redness!

    Toni: Munch I don’t care about that!? Would you care if I had a red eye?

    Munch: No. But I don’t want my eye to be red. I don’t want jelly in my eye! I shouldn’t have chosen the surgery. I should have just seen double forever!

    Toni: Dude this is the worst it’s gonna be. You’re gonna feel so much better tomorrow I promise! And then you won’t see double any more.

    Munch: I don’t care if I see double… I wish I never had surgery.

    Toni: You are gonna be all better soon. We just have to put the jelly in your eye to help you.


    My Mom: Why don’ t you leave, go get some dinner – I will do the eye jelly, give her a bath, and put her to bed.

    Toni: No. I am not leaving. I’m just going to put her to bed.

    My Mom: I can put her to bed. You have to take care of yourself too. Just get out of the house, eat, and take a break.

    Toni: No I wanna be there for her.

    My mom: But she is resisting you to resist you right now. Just go. I can do it once she has settled down and in a better mood.

    Toni: I’m just gonna put her to bed, then I will go.

    My Mom: Let me put her to bed, you are being really annoying!!!

    Whatever Mom, you are annoying!!

    I put Munch to bed, went downstairs, and got dressed to go get food. As I was leaving I could hear the bath running, and Munch chatting away happily to my mom. I ran upstairs and there she was, out of bed, and in the bath.

    Toni: What the dick Mom? She was just in bed!

    My Mom: I got the jelly in her eye, and now she is having a bath before going back to bed.

    Toni: Oh. Thanks.

    All and all, Munch was really fucking impressive. It was not a great experience, but I am hoping it works for the long term,and this is the only time she has to go through it. Not to mention how fucking nice, supportive, loving, and caring all our friends were. SO THANK YOU for going through this journey with us! Especially her little friend who was so worried about what Munch went through, she watched videos of eye surgeries for over an hour to understand the experience. I am dead serious about that…


    tb 2

    tb 3




    November 23, 2015 • Adventures, Family Drama, Health • Views: 393

  • Spending The Night With Strippers

    When I was 18-years old, I liked getting drunk. You know, because I was class and sophisticated. Yet getting alcohol wasn’t always so easy. I would either have to ask a homeless person who most likely had a substance abuse problem that I inadvertently supported by giving them some vodka if they bought it for me, or some pervert who liked getting beer for underage girls and trying to go home with them. It wasn’t really a good scene.

    One day my boyfriend and I had the super bright idea of driving 5 hours to go to Montreal for the night. Since the drinking age was 18, we could easily drink until we vomited blood. I know. We went to private school – so we were pretty smart.

    Since it was already 7 pm, we got moving, and grabbed his best friend to come with us for the ride… and because we needed more money for our adventure.

    Considering we didn’t want to get there too late, I decided I should probably drive 95 mph. I mean, I was going to college the next year, so obviously I had a great understanding of physics. The faster I drive, the faster I get there right? Yeah maybe… unless you’re lost in a small town where the speeding limit is 40, and you get pulled over.

    Since I was going over twice the speed limit, I was in big trouble. The cop that caught me had little sympathy, and brought me right to jail. He wanted to impound the car, but in order to do that; I had to see the judge. The judge was home with with his family, as it was 10 pm on a Sunday, so was forced to leave his house to come to the courthouse. I’m sure you would not be surprised to hear that the judge was not very impressed by my explanation of why I was speeding. He set my bail at $900.

    When we pooled together all my money, we had exactly $975. Keep in mind, this was 1998 there were no cell phones, no GPS, no FUCKING ATMS!! This was ALL THE MONEY we had. Yet we had no choice. We handed it over in order to get me out of jail and my car out of the impoundment.

    Then we had a really important decision to make. Do we continue to Montreal with $75, no place to stay, and no access to get more money for the gas we would need for the return trip back? Or do we cut our losses and go home?

    Of course we continued to Canada. Did I mention both my parents or professors!? I am obviously a genius with genius ideas!!!

    We got to Montreal, and reality dawned on us. We had no place to sleep. We needed money to get home. And it was 1:45 am.

    So what did we do you ask?

    We went to the only place that was open, where we could drink as much as we wanted, and could stay until morning.

    We went to the strip club.

    Did I mention I had been accepted into Sarah Lawrence College! That’s a real intellectual school. That’s why I make such good life choices!

    Spending the night with strippers was simultaneously crazy fun, and insanely sad. Fun because we got to drink until the room spun – sad because naked women who felt like their dads didn’t love them were spinning around poles with their pussies exposed. Yeah I know – maybe they like their jobs and feel sexually empowered. But as a young empathetic feminist who cared about their humanity and hoped these naked ladies were truly happy, I cried one glittery tear. But on a positive note, we did save money to get home because all the lonely men bought me drinks.

    Here I am at 18…


    November 16, 2015 • Old School Stories • Views: 309

  • Toni Bologna’s Anti-motivational sayings











    November 12, 2015 • Musings • Views: 395

  • Do You Speak My Love Language ?

    We use the word love all the time. I love chocolate. I love sunsets. I love “Game of Thrones.” But there is no way I feel the same about a delicious dessert as I do about watching someone’s bowels get ripped out their anus on a Sunday night. One is infinitely more satisfying than the other. (Up to you to choose which one).

    Love is an oversimplified term to express one of the most complex human emotions. That is why the Ancient Greeks had 5 words for love – to represent the different flavors of love we feel. There are varying ways in which we experience love for something or someone, and the deeper we understand these distinctions, the more we understand our relationship to the target of our affection. Not every person you love you are meant to be with, much like how not every pie you love you are meant to eat the entirety of.

    Just as there is a distinction between loving your friend and loving your favorite pair of boots (the boots obviously being the ones you confide in on those cold lonely nights) there is also diversity in the ways in which we express love towards each other. Haven’t you ever been in a relationship with someone that you know you love deeply, and they love you, but you both constantly feel unappreciated and misunderstood?

    The problem isn’t that the love isn’t there. The real issue is that you aren’t speaking the same love language!

    According to Gary Chapman, who has spent over 30 years as a marriage counselor, there are 5 major love languages. We all speak love in a very specific way, regardless if others are actually aware of our modality. I could be shouting at you with my love language, but you if you have different love language, my efforts to communicate might fall onto deaf ears. It would be as if I only knew French and you only knew Russian – we just wouldn’t comprehend what the other person was saying.

    We look for people to love us the same way that we love them. When you speak a love language, you assume everyone is fluent in it. Yet in truth, someone might be showing love in their love language, but you’re just not listening!! We all have to become not only bi-lingual in love languages, but uhhh… five-lingual. The more we understand the different ways in which people love, the more we can acknowledge and appreciate people’s tries!

    If I learned your love language and spoke it to you, and you learned my love language and spoke it to me, our relationship would be infinitely more loving. We need to be aware of each other’s vocabularies. Imagine if at schools, rather than just learning the basics of grammar and reading, children learned to speak love. If they were taught to be able to identify, translate, and be fluent in all love languages. Wouldn’t the world be such a better fucking place?!!!

    Here are the love languages

    1) Words of Affirmation: Someone who gives a lot of compliments, says “I love you often,” and outwardly expresses gratitude for things like taking out the trash or doing the dishes. These are people who enjoy praise and appreciation, and want you to give that back to them in return.
    2) Acts of Service: These are people who are always doing you favors. Helping out around the house, driving you to the airport, moving your apartment for the 3rd time. They show love with their actions, and are looking for you to be as helpful as they are.
    3) Receiving and Giving Gifts: These are not materialistic people looking for lavish presents, but rather “the thought that counts” kind of gestures. They see gifts as a way of showing “I was thinking about you when I saw this fox key chain because I know how you like foxes and key chains.” It makes them feel heard, understood, and like they are on your mind.
    4) Quality Time: These people are looking for giving and receiving quality time together. Moments of pure undivided attention. They want the intimacy of interaction, and knowing they are the only thing in your world for that moment.
    5) Physical Touch: These people show love through their body. They need affection, and readily give it. A squeeze on the shoulder, hug, kiss on the head. They feel most loved when their body is also experiencing the sensation.

    So which one are you? I think we are all familiar with each one of these ways of loving; yet there is probably one that speaks to you most loudly. Know your love language, teach it to the people you love, and ask to learn theirs.

    I hope this baby speaks petting as it’s love language… but not heavy petting, because that would be just weird.



    November 9, 2015 • Musings, Relationships • Views: 283

  • The Best Advice I’ve Ever Received

    I’ve been feeling pretty emotionally raw lately. Just really sensitive, like the genitals of new lovers who just couldn’t get enough of each other one night, but then the next day are like, “ow… that looks pretty red. Maybe I need a day off.”

    My rational mind can give myself all sorts of suggestions on how to pull out of this funk, and feel the funk of life again – George Clinton style. But my heart-self just wants to crawl into a hole and burry my face in the dirt. Although I bet my pores would get really clogged if I did that.

    So it got me thinking of all the advice I’ve received in my life, and the pieces of wisdom that stuck with me over the years.

    1) Know your audience: When I don’t know whom I am talking to, or where they are coming from, I tend to accidently shove my foot in my mouth – maybe even deep throat it. I have a tendency to make outlandish provocative statements that appeal to some, but NOT to others. Most of the time I’m just trying to be funny, but if I’m not careful, I will offend the shit out of people.

    For example:

    Toni: My organic farm CSA is giving me an anxiety attack because I have too many vegetables that I can’t eat in time. It’s giving me an aneurism imagining my squash going bad because I don’t make soup by Friday. I’m being plagued by root veggies. It’s like I have beets coming out of my ass. But don’t worry; I’m seeing a doctor about it.

    Woman I don’t really know that well: Does anyone know of a food shelter in this town? The last one I went to, the food was really bad, and I chipped my tooth. I had to pay $300 to get it fixed. My dad also died of an aneurism.

    Okay… of course there was no way I could have known any of that stuff, but the point is that the more questions we ask of the people we are talking to, the more we can be thoughtful of the information we share with them. When I am being wise, I ask a lot about someone before I reveal anything. Who are they? Where are they at emotionally? What is their vibe for the day? Our minds are filled with thoughts that don’t need to be distributed. It is our responsibility to sift through them, and try to only articulate the ones that bring value.

    Back to more advice….

    2) When in the shower, wash your face before your ass: This may be an obvious suggestion. But until it was so beautifully articulated, that had never occurred to me.
    3) The horizon is pretty to look at, but you will never get there: This one is my own advice, but I think it is a good for me to hear. It’s important to have goals in life, but no matter what, you will never achieve them. Because as soon as you do, there will be another one off in the distance. So sit back and enjoy the view.

    dublin lake sunset

    October 28, 2015 • Musings • Views: 500

  • How Do You Treat People When You’re in a Bad Mood?

    How often do you get in a bad mood? Every week? Every day? Every few hours?

    What do your bad moods look like? Do you take it out on the people around you? Do you retreat into yourself? Do you punish your furniture or punch walls? Or do you paint pictures of Donald Trump with your menses?

    Everyone gets into bad moods. It seems like an unavoidable aspect of the human condition. We can’t have happiness without moments of darkness. We all feel waves of pessimism, and ironically, our own thoughts are often the cause of the turmoil.

    Most problems we have are not the external interference of someone intentionally fucking with you. The majority of our personal suffering we put on ourselves by being upset over things we have little control over. We thus end up spending a huge part of our lives managing this self-induced pain.

    But here is the problem with being in a bad mood. NO ONE LIKES TO BE AROUND SOMEONE WHO’S IN A BAD MOOD!

    Negativity is more contagious than a strand of herpes infested Ebola virus mixed with measles. When you are around someone who is complaining, wallowing, or finding the fault in everything – it is hard not to sink into the pit of despair with them. Bad moods are the quick sand of the emotional spectrum, and most people will run the other direction so as not to get sucked in.

    So the question then becomes, what do you do with yourself when you are in a bad mood? If you don’t honor your feelings, they tend to fester and breed. That energy has to be expelled somehow, because denial only delays the inevitable breakdown. The ideal would be to notice your bad moods, but allow them to float through you without attachment. Just let them pass like gas! Yet that can be really hard if you are not a Buddhist monk spending your life meditating in the forest!

    When you live with a kid, their moods are in a constant state of chaos. They can get angry about something as simple as having too many raisins in their granola. Which although is maddening, is not a reason to throw yourself on the floor and weep as if you just ate your cat by accident.

    When Munch is in a bad mood, she also happens to be a total asshole. It is hard to be empathetic to her anguish when I also think she is being a dick. I don’t want Munch to feel like there isn’t space to be her authentic expressive self; but I also don’t want to be an emotional punching bag in the process.

    Toni: Listen, Munch. I totally understand that life can be frustrating, and sometimes you get in a bad mood. I am never asking you not to feel your feelings. But I am asking you to start thinking how you treat people when you are angry inside. If you are in a bad mood, is it possible for you to also be kind?

    The Munch was quiet for a moment while she took this suggestion in. Then she looked at me as if she totally understood what I was saying, then dramatically threw her head back.

    Munch: BUT IT’S SO HARD!!!!!

    Exactly Munch…

    (This was her first day of school… and boy was she in a bad mood!)

    first day of school

  • Just Another Childhood Trauma

    Sometimes I like to sit around and think about how my parents totally fucked me up. I just find it relaxing.

    You know, on those cold fall days where I’m questioning my existence and wondering if my life is simply a series of failures – I quickly shift my focus to how my mom and dad made me the nut case that I am today. See… it’s all their fault.

    My dad has a thing with death. It makes him REALLY uncomfortable. Probably from being raised Catholic. He just can’t deal with the thought of death because it is too painful. Perhaps it makes him think of the existential quandary of heaven and hell, and that we’re all going down because we’ve masturbated? I don’t know! I’m not in my dad’s head okay! (At least not any more… I only shot through there super fast on my way out of his balls). I digress!

    So when I was about 8, my Dad and I went to our country house and came across 15 baby mice corpses. Now you can’t just leave carrion in your house – because the bodies will rot and begin to smell. My mom would NOT approve of decaying flesh polluting her home. We HAD to dispose of them. At least one of us did.

    Sure my dad was the adult, and I was the child. One would assume he would swallow his fear, and deal with the DEAD BABY MICE rather than making his 8-year-old daughter do it. But you see – he didn’t want to pick up the small pink carcasses. Instead, my dad told me he would pay $20 for everyone I got rid of.

    Now I am not saying I sold my innocence that day, but I am saying I bought a lot of She-Ra dolls after that weekend.

    Because my dad was so traumatized by the idea of death, he never wanted me to have animals. Not because he didn’t like them, but he liked them too much! When I wanted to get a dog I had to leave a puddle of tears in my Dad’s office to convince him. He just stared at the wetness on his floor and finally acquiesced.

    Once I had my dog Fiona, I wanted to get another pet. I loved pets! They were my friends!! So I got a hamster! Yayyyy! More furry things to love!!!!

    But one night while I was sleeping in my bed, I heard all this commotion underneath me. I turned on the light and realized my hamster had somehow gotten out of the cage. I then looked under my bed where all the turmoil was coming from, and realized that Fiona was in fact killing my hamster.

    I ran into my parents’ room.

    Toni: Mom! Dad! Fiona is under the bed killing my hamster.
    My Dad: Well, it’s all your fault. Deal with it.

    Now, it was 4 in the morning… and no one likes to be woken up at 4 in the morning and then deal with a half eaten hamster.

    I am not sure who ended up disposing of the body. I’m pretty sure it was my mom, because she is stronger than all of us. All I remember is sitting in my living room as the sun came up, holding my dog, and thinking I was to blame for the murder of my hamster.

    But I love you dad!! It’s your birthday today, and your sensitive heart is as pure as gold. You also let me get a bird… and cried at her grave when she died!! It is the way of the Nagy’s to weep mercilessly and lament at all animal death and suffering.

    (Me and Fiona)

    toni and fiona

    October 21, 2015 • Old School Stories • Views: 608

  • Did “Back to the Future” Predict 9/11?

    Do you remember your first time? What you were wearing… who you were with… how you felt inside – that bubbling anticipation of not knowing what it was going to be like. I do. I was 21, stoned, with my boyfriend, and eating an insane about of cookie dough – which I continued to devour the entire time. Although I think I fell asleep for a few minutes in the middle.

    We are talking about the same thing right? The first time you watched a conspiracy theory video.

    Now I know you can think I am a nut job for entertaining this type of content. I am not saying conspiracy theories are God’s truth, but let me just give you something to contemplate. In Ancient Greece, the one thing that EVERY person had to participate in, whether you were a man, woman, child, or slave, was watching the plays. It was mandatory to attend the theater, because that was the strategy that got people emotionally invested in governmental decisions and war.

    Something worth considering before you judge me MOM!

    Back to my first time; I lost my “thought virginity” in 2001, with a VHS tape. YES! SO GOOD! The video was called “A Funny Thing Happened on The Way to the Moon,” and was about how the moon landings were faked for political gain and corporate corruption.

    Now I am not saying the moon landing was faked… but I am also not saying it wasn’t.

    I then got into Alex Jones, and entered into a void of conspiracy theories that only grew once Youtube came on the scene. “Zeitgeist,” “Loose Change,” “Room 237…” the list goes on and on and on and on. Subjects like our alien ancestors, The Bilderberg group, the ruling lizard elite, the Federal Reserve, the Amero, how we don’t actually have to pay taxes… I have seen them all.

    Eventually I stopped watching these videos because I stopped smoking weed. But guess what I started doing again? Smoking weed and watching conspiracy theory videos – you’re welcome world.

    So my brother and I got high over the weekend, and decided to enter into 2 conspiracy vortexes. The first was about how the movie “Back to The Future” predicted the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Keep an open mind okay!!!??

    At first my brother was unimpressed with the video. We are both conspiracy theory aficionados, and I wanted him to be impressed by my selection. Yet the narrator kept repeating himself, and it felt pejorative to assume we needed information to be echoed so many times.

    My Brother Laszlo: Yeah, yeah I know this already. The time on the clock is 9:11 upside down. The mall where the terrorist attack took place was called “The Twin Pines” mall. I’ve seen this stuff before.

    I started to momentarily panic. Partly because I wanted my brother to be as blown away as I had been by the video, and partly because I was super high, and realizing I had NO COOKIES IN THE HOUSE!

    As the video delved deeper, it divulged that not only did Robert Zemeckis’ “Back to the Future” predict 911, but it also implied that the official story is a fabrication. It goes on to say that Zemeckis’ new film “The Walk,” about Philippe Petit’s 1974 high wire walk across the twin towers, is “the reveal” about the 9/11 warning.

    My Brother: Okay… I’ve never heard this before.
    Toni: Phew!

    In the movie “Back to the Future,” Marty McFly gives Doc a letter warning him about the terrorist attack he will fall victim to. When doc asks, “what’s the meaning of this,” Marty replies, “You’ll find out in 30 years!” Just like how “The Walk” is being released exactly 30 years after “Back to the Future.” AND… now get this… When Marty McFly comes back from the future to talk to Doc, he is wearing the SAME outfit as Joseph Gorden-Levit in the “The Walk.”

    What happened next I am not sure because I was thinking about making a second dinner…. but I do know there was some illuminati influence implied as well.

    My Brother and Toni: The illuminati… yes… of course…

    The video also explained that awareness of the screen, and touching the screen, is what exposes the wizard behind the curtain. Knowing about media manipulation is the main objective of these Zemeckis films. Supposedly, Zemeckis is suggesting that through unveiling the illusion of the screen, we will find the truth.

    My Brother: Wait what? So how did Zemeckis know about 9/11? Did the aliens tell him? And who was this Philippe Petitte guy that the new movie “The Walk” is about? Why did he walk across the towers in the first place?

    Toni: I don’t know? Maybe it is like you said earlier… that Philippe walked across the towers to inspire awe, wonder, and to get people to look up?

    But at this point we were too freaked out to believe anything good.

    My Brother: But what if it was some death ritual? Look at these skyscrapers… aren’t they reptilian? Maybe there was something more sinister going on, and he was suggesting that we worship these monoliths? I don’t want to worship a monolith. It is all so transhumanist! AHHHHHH!!

    Toni: AHHHHH!! What does it all mean!!??

    We were fully terrified. Because WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN!?

    Then we decided to go into a “flat earth” quagmire. I mean we were high after all, and that is the perfect time to wonder if the world is actually flat.

    Okay so I am not saying the world is flat… I’m just not saying that it isn’t.

    The “flat earth” videos are pretty next level. We had to watch a few of them, and I still don’t really understand the argument. Some of the videos were deconstructing how satellites don’t really exist, which some how suggests flat earth. These videos had a SUPER complicated explanation about how satellites HAVE to be virtual and used science words. Then there were a lot of experiments using balloons, and how if you let one up in the air, it shows that there is actually no curve of the earth. Another video was going on about how the sun gets bigger the higher you get, and maybe the sun is actually only 40 miles away? I mean, I’ve never been to the sun so I don’t know!?

    Toni: Are they basically suggesting that the world is in a 2 dimensional plane?

    My Brother: Yeah, like how the UN map is a flat depiction of the globe. You can still sail from here to China in either direction, but you are not going around in a 3rd dimension. And I guess they say there is some glass dome on top of the earth that contains us.

    We then looked at the map of flat earth.

    Toni: Okay, but what if you just sailed a boat that way?? Wouldn’t that bring you to the edge?

    My brother: Well, we have to watch another video to explain that part. But they say that beyond the ocean is a big wall of ice, and on the other side of the wall is where the aliens are.

    Toni: Kinda like Game of Thrones?

    My Brother: Yeah. And that is why the aliens got so pissed when we had nuclear explosions. Because they felt it. Even though we are imprisoned in this little zone, they are still impacted by our actions.

    Toni: But what about all the pictures we have seen from space of the round earth?

    My Brother: I don’t know? And what about all the astronauts who said they went to space?

    Toni: Are they all just mind controlled? They never went up, but think they did because they were given too much acid at MK ultra?

    My brother: I’m not saying they are mind-controlled. But I’m not saying they are not.

    Toni: I’ve personally never explored space. I’ve just left it up to other people to investigate.

    My Brother: Right, and then we just believe the information that we are given from their discoveries. And since they already did it, we don’t have to.

    Toni: All the visual proof of the world being round is pictures and videos. And if you think about it, pictures and movies are what we use to trick ourselves into believing fake stories like “Star Wars.” At least momentarily we believe them so we can stay captivated by the narrative. That is why movies make us cry, laugh, whatever… because we suspend belief. We knowingly seek out fantasy through movies, but we also uncompromisingly believe things we see on video in the “news.” We use the same tool of manipulation for truth and for fiction.

    My Brother: Exactly! It is just like the “Back to the Future” thing! We are controlled through media! Knowingly and unknowingly! Maybe we are living inside an M.C Escher painting. That is the Matrix… which begs the question, “do you feel betrayed?”

    Toni: Exactly. Wait, but why would “they” want us to think we lived on a round earth?

    My Brother: I don’t know. And who benefits from other people exploring for us, and telling us the “facts” of our “planet?”

    Toni: I don’t know

    My Brother: You know, thinking you know things to be true, kills the curiosity of finding out for yourself.

    Toni: YES! Thinking you know – kills curiosity! THAT IS IT!

    Okay yes all this is totally nuts, and yeah we were super high. But you know what? Obama refuses to meet with the “flat earth” advocates… so what does that mean? Maybe they are right? Or maybe they are totally crazy and the president is super busy and doesn’t have time for crazy conspiracies.

    The reason why conspiracy theories interest me is because it is questioning the official story. There is an agenda to history, news, and media. It is a powerful tool that changes the way people think. But it is not that I believe every crazy video I see either. I would watch a conspiracy theory about how conspiracy theories are made by the government to distract us from the actual truth of what we are being told by the government. Totally! Maybe! Who knows! I just want to come from a place of curiosity.

    Here they are for your enjoyment…

    October 19, 2015 • Current Events, Family Drama, Musings, Political Banter • Views: 300

  • Being Spoiled vs Acting Spoiled

    Here in America, we are surrounded by overconsumption, overabundance, and overzealous materialism. Excess is everywhere. Go through your house right now and I bet you are surrounded by shit you don’t use, don’t need, but yet don’t want to get rid of.

    What if I need that second rolling pin later?! Say I was making a pie, and also wanted to beat someone over the head, but didn’t want to get flour everywhere. See ~ I NEED 2 ROLLING PINS!

    We have an obsession with stuff partly because of nostalgia, partly because of a fear of scarcity, and partly because it is so easy to get. Corporate Culture has made everything cheaper and more accessible. The seduction to buy things is so engrained in our psyche that we hardly ever question the impulse. Is it essential that I buy another pair of printed leggings with the Buddha’s face? Not really, but that doesn’t mean my butt won’t look cute in them!

    Often times we think we need money because we want to buy more things, but really what we should be looking for more of is time. More experiences. More moments that make memories. Who cares about material objects in the face of a life worth remembering?

    Because I don’t live in an urban environment, shopping is not one of my past times. Go in the woods and fart. Yeah, that is something I do. Go shopping for things? There really is nowhere to go. Except for Target.

    Even though I try to avoid supporting any multinational mega-business, I do sometimes wind up at Target. I mean, it’s not Wal-Mart. But sometimes, I have to get clothes for The Munch, batteries for the remote, a shower curtain, and, you know… leggings that make my butt look cute. YOU JUST CAN’T HAVE ENOUGH OF THOSE!

    The Munch and I probably go to Target once every 2 months and every time we go, she wants to buy a toy. Now I could say, “wait till your birthday or Christmas.” I probably should say that, right!? That way she understands the meaning of patience, and that she shouldn’t just try and fill The Void with crap.

    But then there is the selfish part of me that says, “Well, if I buy her this toy/Lego set/My Little Pony, when we get home she will leave me alone and play with it. Sure it was probably made in a sweatshop with materials that are not only toxic, but also off-gassing poisonous plastic secretions into the house, but did I mention she would also shut the fuck up for 10 minutes?”

    Not every time I enter a store with The Munch do I buy her something, but often times I do. It is not like she has expensive taste, but I also don’t want her to unconsciously devour shit around her that she later discards because it was too available. If we were living in Colonial times, and she only had one baby doll that was missing an arm and half it’s face – but it was all she had – she would love the shit out of that doll. But in my house where she has 10 fucking dolls, it is easy to lose interest because, hey, it’s just one of many.

    It is hard to pretend the world isn’t what it is. I don’t live in an off-the-grid geodesic dome. Acting like my child does, is borderline absurd. I could insist that The Munch only play with wool and wood I whittled into stick people. But I am not sure denial is going to empower The Munch to figure out how to navigate a world that is filled with longings. I want to instill values onto The Munch that build her awareness, not pretend like I can’t afford a $7 stuffed unicorn. I would rather talk about something being produced by a company that “isn’t kind to the people that make the toy,” than sheltering her from the fact that these things exist.

    Yet, sometimes I just buy her whatever the fuck she wants. Because fuck it. So yeah. The Munch is spoiled in that way for SURE! But there is a difference between acting spoiled and being spoiled. As long as she isn’t a selfish dick and gives a shit about child labor laws, this mother is happy.

    munch barette

    October 14, 2015 • 5 years old, Behavior, Family Drama, Mommyhood, Parenting, Playing • Views: 300