Blogging Hiatus AND I'm An Effing Republican!

I'm taking a blogging break for the month of November. I know this will totally devastate the lives of my 123 followers, but I gotta do me.

I hate when people say "I gotta do me" or "you've gotta do you", but I just went all urban on you and said it anyway.

Why?

Because I gotta do me.

Did you know that November is National Novel Writing Month? Of course you did. This means that I will be totally focused on finishing my novel this month. I can't get my mind off track and blog about Seabiscuit taking a dump or Olivia Newton-John's visit. (PS- that trick is finally rolling into town tonight. The local DJ's are all in a tizzy.)

Yeah, I just went all urban again and said trick.

The entire fam- hubs, kids, sister and fam, bro and fam, parentals, pet Chupacabra and I- are also spending the holidays on the white sandy beaches of Destin, Florida, USA. I'm going to be more worried about squeezing my fat dressing-filled ass in a tankini than I am about blogging.

However, I'm going to be sure to take the laptop with me on the vacay because November is National Novel Writing Month, and I've got to get this book done. A deadline is just what I need to motivate me to finish.

Oh, it seems I've already plugged that up there.

And last but certainly not least, I'm pissed at the Interwebs right now, anyway, so we need a break from one another. And I'm going to tell you why.

***

I very rarely use the "F" word while writing. I usually opt for a cleaner version of this bomb. You know, out of respect for the elders like Great Aunt Ida who read my blog. 

"What the F is she doing?"

"What the Eff are you doing?"

"What the F Word am I doing?"

Well, prepare yourself, my friends. If you can't handle the F word for the remainder of this post, then click the fucking X in the top right corner.

Classy writing, isn't it?

Here's what's got me dropping the fucking F bomb.

I recently entered a short story contest, and I got some feedback today.

The story that I submitted is the tale of a newly divorced chick and her hellacious experience at the Winn Dixie. Really, that is the gist of the entire thing. I didn't say that it was a great literary work. I didn't say that this story would change the lives of millions. No, I just said I simply submitted a short story about a woman's horomonal rampage in the grocery store.

This story had nothing to do with politics. And please keep in mind that I rarely voice my political opinion online. Rarely. Very rarely. Really rarely. Extremely very really rarely. I've retweeted some things on Twitter that hint at whether I'm Pro-Elephant or Pro-Donkey, but I've never ever ever just come out and bashed the other political party. Never. Ever.

However, my critique-er must have researched my Tweets and discovered who I follow on Twitter and done hell of some digging to find out my political party affiliation. I don't know why she'd want to waste her time doing this, but what the fuck ever.  

Here is some feedback that I received on my non-political short story:

"This was a witty story but if I have to be honest, I can't vote for an entry that was written by someone that is an idiot when it comes to politics."

Ouch.

That un-biased comment is bubbling forth with open-mindedness and tolerance, isn't it?

When the fuck did my political preference influence my writing? When did this story produce words that tear down this country? The girl merely lost her shit in Winn Dixie. I didn't say Obama was the reason she lost her shit in Winn Dixie. I said her husband cheating on her and the empty space on the Honeybun shelf is the reason she lost her shit in Winn Dixie.

I'll just come out and admit it. I'm a Republican, by God. I'm a Republican, and I'm a damn good and decent person.

I believe life starts at conception. I believe that big government is dangerous. I believe in conservative values and morals (I mean, besides dropping the F bomb 23 times in a blog post). And guess what else? I don't totally hate you if you don't believe in these things. I'm not a hate monger. And I don't use words to tear down the country that my forefathers and grandfathers helped to build.

I'm a hell of a lot more tolerant than the Democrat that left me feedback on a fucking non-political short story.

Eddie Vedder is my favorite voice in the world, and he walked around in a George Bush mask during the entire Nashville, TN Pearl Jam concert in 2003. I paid 127 bucks to watch my favorite voice bash my favorite President for two hours, but guess what? I still dig Eddie Vedder.

A friend of mine recently sat me down and had a "good talking to" with me about Obamacare. I listened with an open mind. And I still disagreed with her. And then we had a beer and agreed to never discuss politics again.

My point is this, if you think that my writing blows biscuits just because I'm voting for Mitt Romney this year, then you have a problem. Not me. I've never disliked a person merely because they view things differently than I do.

As a Republican, I'm the minority. If I hated every Democrat that I came in contact with, then I'd be doing a lot of damn hating.

If I can be tolerant of other people's views, then why can't people be tolerant of mine? Not voting for my short story simply because I'm a Republican is un-fucking-constitutional.

Now I think I'll go lose my shit in Winn Dixie. (**drops mic and exits stage left**)

I hope everyone, Republican or Democrat, has a wonderful November. May your gravy flow forth freely, and may only a small percentage of giblets get caught in your molars.

(**drops mic and exits stage right**)