Christian Overdose 

Just the other day, my brother overdosed and somehow convinced my parents that he has epilepsy.

 I know what you’re thinking– impossible. How? Why? Are you being serious? 

I’m here to tell you that I am. My brother snorted pills for 72 hours straight and it finally caught up with him. Oh, and he somehow lived to tell about it. Way to go, bro!  

My parents went to the grocery store and when they came home they found one of my brother’s friends screaming that my brother had died. 

My parents, being the Bible toting Christians that they are, ran right to his rescue. They called 911 and attempted to get his pulse back. 911 arrived just as my brother started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Nevertheless, my sweet, innocent, charming brother was able to muster up enough strength to become disorderly with the first responders because he didn’t like them touching his drugs. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s no shame in his game! 

My brother goes into back to back seizures and yet his friend swears that he knew nothing about the drugs he took. The first responders tell my brother’s friend that my brother will die if he continues to withhold the truth, he remained silent. What an awesome friend! 

The first responders were able to pry a baggie of pills from my brother’s hand and use a smart phone app to see what he took. Yay technology! Luckily I’m not a first responder, I don’t know if I’d have been so quick to help people that didn’t want help. Keeping it real, y’all! 

He was then transported to the hospital. Once the doctors were able to bring him back to reality, my brother told my parents that he didn’t take any drugs and this was all a misunderstanding. Although there was concrete evidence to say otherwise, my parents have chosen to believe my brother. They are even taking him for additional testing to confirm an epilepsy diagnosis. What wonderful Christians! I’m looking forward to visiting never.

I’m surrounded by idiots. 

Xoxo,

Blaire 💋💄

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What the heart wants ❤️


For starters, I wasn’t really that wild as an adolescent. Mainly because I was afraid of how my parents would react if I put even my pinky toe out of line. I figured they’d ship me off to boarding school, or the Christian Academy down the street like they threatened to do on a regular basis.

But, let’s face it, a girl can only stay well-behaved for so long at 15. I started to become attracted to the bad boys. I think it was because I thought they were everything I wasn’t or perhaps it was their hot attitude problems. Whatever it was, I ended up dating a guy named Franklin who was an absolute bad boy.
We were, uhh, quite the match. I got great grades and he beat up boys that looked in my direction too long. I went to field hockey practice and he smoked weed in the woods nearby. It was all fun and games till Franklin caught a felony and found himself in jail and then on house arrest.

Fast forward 10 years and now I’m married to a super attractive, loving cop named Ricky. Ricky follows the rules, obsesses over me, and stays calm in all situations. My 15 year old self never saw this shit coming and honestly, nor did I.

The heart wants what it wants,

Blaire 👮🏼❤️

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I sleep with stuffed animals

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I turned 26 years old this year– I have two degrees, a challenging job, and a good looking husband. And somehow, someway I still sleep nightly with 3 stuffed animals. Hello, daddy issues. Am I right? If you’re nodding your head and smirking right now then you’ve met someone crazy like me before. You’re probably thinking of a bat shit crazy ex-girlfriend or that wild best friend you had in college that you always knew was a little off.

I could sit down right now and tell you every little thing that has ever went wrong in my life and I still cannot account for my inability to put my stuffed animals in the past. My mom used to always joke that I wouldn’t give those stuffed animals up till the day I got married. Well, uhh, I have been married for years and still I sleep with them. Yes, they have names: Puffy, Puffilump, and Ruff. The first two were named when I got them on the day I was born. The third one was named by my drunk friend at a party.

Honestly and truly, I cannot begin to tell you why I can’t fall asleep without them. No, I do not believe they talk or have feelings. But, then again, I still get upset if I see one absentmindedly tossed on the floor.

Help?

Blaire 🎀

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Virginia, get it together.

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Today, a public health emergency was declared in the state of Virginia for the opioid addiction crisis. Somehow, I don’t care at all.

Ya see, it’s hard for me to care because I’m not addicted to opioids. I understand that drugs, especially those containing opioids, are dangerous. These medicines should only be taken if needed and as prescribed by the doctor.

I’ve seen it happen though. I’ve seen people I love get addicted to opioids. And do you know what I think? I think they are selfish, destructive people. I think if they cared about themselves or the people they claim to love they wouldn’t abuse opioids.

My best friend in high school had everything. A hot body, beautiful hair, great grades, a bright future, and the most loving family you’ll ever meet. I spent time each day wishing I could trade places with her. I would daydream about having her seemingly perfect life, even her annoying yappy dog.

One afternoon she got in a finder bender. When she went to her doctor, the doctor prescribed her Percocet for her whiplash. He advised her to take it as needed–and she did. She took it when she was in pain and when she wasn’t and at all other times of the day. She got addicted quickly. I did everything I could to help her and stop her addiction, but nothing I said/did helped. Soon she was buying pills off of the street and soon I had completely lost my best friend.

Do you know what could have saved her? Not getting addicted in the first place. Not taking more than the prescribed dose, not lying about her pain, and not continuing to buy pills on the street once the doctor cut her off.

And, while I’m on the subject, if you’re shooting heroin, I’m 110% apathetic towards you. You’re making a choice, a choice that could kill you. Tidy up or you may actually die.

I’m not a mean person, I swear.

Love always,

Blaire

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