People Seem To Think I’m Responsible

Ha, I sure fool those people don’t I? I’m barely responsible enough to look after this blog.

I’ve got a lot of stuff I’m working on now so for now I’m going to write when I write, and I’m not forcing myself to do it because it just comes out as a babbling mess, and half the time I don’t even know the point I’m trying to get across.

I want to write a creepypasta. I feel that as a horror fan who’s completely numb to most things, the shit that scares me would scare anyone else, right? That’s my logic and I’m sticking to it. Now to make my convoluted plot fit into a structure that people with barely any attention spans will read, which means it’ll have to sort of be short… Why the fuck was creative writing so easy back when I was 15 in comparison to now?!

The reason I named the post what I did though was because we got asked to look after a child under 18 (not including my nephew who is 17 and does not count).

The child is misters 11 year old sister I will call her A. I’m going to try and nut shell this situation as it is complicated and harsh. Mister is one of 6. There are 4 different fathers to those 6. A is the youngest, she dealt with their mother at her craziest. She got taken out of school because the mother thought the government and all its facilities are evil (schools, doctors etc), and because the mother grew and smoked weed inside, you basically got a contact high every time you entered the house. So crazy mum decided to start shit with my family, and that’s when I chose to step in. Because it’s one thing calling me an evil witch (because she’s psychic see, therefore I’m the devil) and sanctimoniously burning my clothes, but when you start accusing my brother of being a pedophile (which he is a lot of things but not that) that’s when you’ve directly fucked with me. So we got her out of there, we called dhs and crazy mum opted to get rid of her entirely over getting treatment. She literally told her 10 year old daughter that she didn’t want her anymore, then poor A had to be carted off to a court house with strangers, not knowing who the fuck was going to take her on board. Her crazy mum only let her around mister, she disowned the rest of her children. So we had to leave a scared little girl with her other brother who she had never met and had been told her whole life was evil.

But it’s ok, even though A wanted to live with us, we couldn’t take care of her. But she’s been up with misters brother and partner for over a year now and is doing great, she’s doing well in school, misters brother is paying for counselling, she has everything she needs. They are an early 30s couple, they are adult enough to be like parents to her, and considering she had no idea who her father is (neither does anyone) and a schizophrenic mother who was flat broke (we assume, she was really crazy) she’s pretty well rounded. She’s a little popular one too with a the little girl friends. It’s great, she has a life now. Both misters brother and partner have great jobs, both play sports, are over all top members of society.

That’s exactly the environment a child should be in.

So for J to ask me if we wanted to look after A (J is misters brothers partner, she talks to me over mister because I’m better at talking), I felt really chuffed. I haven’t been responsible enough to look after anything in my life, now I’m in a stable enough position where someone thinks I can handle looking after a kid for a total of 3 days! I must be starting to grow up.


Now I’ve got any excuse to do all the stupid, immature cool stuff!


This is going to be interesting/scary/fun!


Midnight Cat Post

Fucking go to sleep Kim….

But the world needs to see the weird pictures of the fur children! This house has made them strange.

Crocodile Tigger can’t lay like normal cats, he’s a yoga cat.
I don’t even know if this is funny, I just found it cute at the time.
Poodle fat was not impressed with this being on his head, and he could’ve moved it but…
He decided to just deal with it instead and go back to sleep.

Which is exactly what I should do now.

Seroquel out.

Tank Girl Is My Otherkin

So I was watching Game Grumps the other day, and they were talking about the concept of spirit kin.

Spirit Kin is a term used to describe how people feel connected with a certain person that is real. Example of this is someone is a fan of Elvis, but instead of just really loving Elvis the fan envisions in their head that they are somewhat connected spiritually even though they’ve never met Elvis.

I love Jamie Hewlett, but I don’t think we are spiritually connected. But I do however feel like I embody everything that is Tank Girl and she’s a fictional character. So I looked up that and found;

Other Kin, which basically is the same thing as Spirit Kin except with fictional creatures or cartoon characters.

The rest of the write up was also super hilarious too.

First Tank Girl picture that I coloured. By Kim 2005.
Drew this in Math class in 2005. (I didn’t like math..)
Pretty fucking proud of this one, just sayin’. Copied on a car trip into woop woop in 2005.

I’ve been pretty stressed and angry lately, and everyone told me to write. And I guess writing is the same as talking for me (because I’ve never had a problem with expressing emotion, more the opposite problem of keeping emotions tame), it doesn’t help. I don’t care what anyone says but ‘talking’ is not always going to be a good idea. Not for people like me anyway, I only dwell.

First Tank Girl attempt, ever. If you can’t see the date up the top it says 2004, so I was 13.

So I decided to paint instead, and I realised that it’s much more therapeutic for me then writing. It switches my emotions off and forces me to think rationally and logically, and believe me, that’s a far more useful skill for me to have then just letting out my emotions.

I keep attempting to insert pictures between paragraphs but unfortunately for me WordPress only works on a decently running, updated desktop computer (because even laptops are too hard).


I have loved the comics since I knew who she was. Tank Girl is by far the strongest comic book character, period. She smokes and drinks, drives a tank and loves guns.

She drives a tank, how cool is that!

Ive been drawing and copying Tank Girl since I was 13, it’s now time to step up the game and paint her…

Wish me luck. I’ll put up the results once I’m done, depending on how popular this post gets.

Thats not true, even if I don’t get even one like for this post, if it turns out awesome I will post it anyway.




Nintendohemian Rhapsody

Back in my day, gaming used to be hard…

Back when I was younger then 8, the Aunty used to have The Lion King on her computer. It originally came out on the Super Nintendo, but they had this special deal on some computer, where it came with the game installed on it, and that was the only reason she had it.

I tried so hard to beat it back then, so hard. I realise now that I didn’t have much of a chance back then because this game is one of the top hardest games on Super Nintendo.


It was only a basic sideways platform game like Mario, but it was ridiculously harder. It is the most unforgiving game when it comes to timing, an example of this is when you need Simba to swing from something onto something else. If you do not time this properly then Simba just falls like a sack of shit. And then, if you do make the stupidly timed jumps, you are met with another obstacle that will most likely end your life if you don’t see it coming. There’s also a grand total of 1 checkpoint right in the middle of the level, and only one continue which is usually hidden. Lion cub Simba is also pretty useless, with his main move being growl, which only helps by making blue bugs explode in the first level…

Weird blue bugs that just spontaneously combust every time a small lion growls at it… Seems legit to me.


But what this game 100 times more difficult then just about everything that came out on the Super Nintendo, was the fact that there was NO save files.

No saves.

You have to somehow navigate a shaky, hard to control Simba through the stupid troll like episodes without dying too much. You had one chance each level to get a continue, if you didn’t find it then you’re probably fucked.

Plus, the mechanics are so old and shitty that if you press a button too hard, Simba will just roll, into an enemy, off a cliff, pretty well kills himself in any inconvenient way he can. Stoopid Simba…

Simba, noooo!


Goddamit, fuck…

A continue in a game like this is an extra opportunity when you hit the Game Over screen to try again from the same level you died on, instead of sending you all the way back to the start.

Kids these days will never know the frustrations of ‘Lives’ and ‘Game Overs’, like us 90s kids had to face. You don’t even get lives in new games! You die and you just spawn back in the same spot. Where’s the fucking challenge in that?

Here’s a disappointed Raffiki to remind you how much you SUCK at games. There’s no such thing as ‘game over’ in games anymore.

Games aren’t hard anymore, games aren’t challenging anymore. Games were unforgiving back in the day, and you needed to be quick. There was dial up internet so it wasn’t as easy to just look up a walk through or a cheat if you got stuck, you had to just keep trying.

And you know what, the most satisfying thing in the world is to beat a game that made you as frustrated as you thought humanly possible.

Plus, I have a point to prove with this game. If I beat it, then there will be no doubt in my mind that I am pretty fucking good at games.

Damn old school Nintendo…



Don’t Call Me Cute

I looked through google images to find the most pouty toddler to use as this main image, this one looks about as pleased as I feel.

This isn’t really a rant, well, it is, but it’s not entirely motivated by anger.

When I was between the ages of 4-8 people would proclaim ‘awww aren’t you a little cutie’. I didn’t know what cute meant, all I know is that I hated it. I hated it because even at 4 I could hear their patronising tone every time they called me it. And I would get so angry every time and my line was always;


And of course, every time a kid throws a little hissy fit that just makes them even more cute. So is work myself up to the point of tears because I hated being called it, and every time I told them to stop they wouldn’t, because I was 4, I was so small, so insignificant and pretty well useless.

The thing is, even though it’s 20 years later nothing has changed.

Most women are angry at the way it is for them in society. Do you know what’s even worse then being female? Being short. So as you can see the short female combination is a shitty one. Not only am I already not treated properly by men, I am the person that woman need to show dominance towards because they can’t say it to men.

There’s only so many Oompa Loompa jokes you can be told before you snap. Then I get the you can’t take a joke bullshit. You have NO FUCKING IDEA how demeaning it is when every fucking 12 year old you meet compares their size and are usually 98% of the time taller. There’s only so many walking head job jokes, weak girl jokes, short fucking….

So yeah, I am slightly angry. Because my whole existence exists of me looking up, and everyone else looking down on me. EVERYTHING is made for normal sized people, game controllers, shelves on walls, and pants! If I want a good pair of pants…

Hang on one second, before you all start, Pants are Trousers over here, not underwear.

Not only do I have to spend money on the item, I then have to spend extra money to take them up. So I just don’t, I live in leggings because I REFUSE to spend extra money on the same fucking product that every other normally proportioned person can wear.

I’ve given myself an injury from lifting, the cartledge connecting my ribs is inflamed. It hurts to breath, every time I take a breath it feels like my whole rib cage is squeezing my lung. And it’s agony, there’s no relief. All because I helped carry a tv from one side of the house to the other.

I hate my father telling me that I shouldn’t be doing this kind of work because I’ll hurt myself. I hate the fact that most 12 year old boys have more strength in their arms then me. I hate that I’m only 4 inches taller then being declared a legal dwarf. I hate that everything is out of my reach, and that people never see me when I’m walking unless I’m making a lot of noise.

I hate being the doormat to the people that get fucked on everyday…

No matter how fat I get, I know I have the ability to get thin. Fuck, I have the ability to change my face, make my tits bigger and my arse smaller. But I can NEVER be taller.

I wanted to be a model, but I can’t because I’m too SHORT, something that is out of my control entirely.

I’m sick of getting fucked on by everyone around me.

Im sick of feeling inferior and weak.

Im sick of feeling like I literally have NOTHING that will help me succeed in life, because if I were smart I’d never be taken seriously anyway because I’m female, but I’ll NEVER be beautiful either, I’ll always be cute.

And do you know why?

My hands are baby hands that got bigger, I have no knuckles, I make a fist at you and you’ll laugh. My legs are so unbelievably short with hips so ridiculously huge that I’ll never have a ‘thigh gap’. My hips are too large for me back, and that’s just the bone structure! My tits are too big for my body. I have to reach for EVERYTHING. I am in constant pain just from my body being so fucking stunted.

So yeah, I have to stay loud, I can’t help but be angry. Because if I don’t i get treated the same way as a 15 year old, because people still mistake me for that age.

Please don’t fucking tell me that’s great and you’ll love that when you’re older.


Anyone of you could defend yourself against me in a fight.

The only difference is I have to fight 10 times as hard in this life to not get walked all over.

Cute isn’t beautiful and cute isn’t sexy. Cute is weakness, and I would much rather be feared.

Don’t EVER point your finger at a Crazy Kim

Yes, I did just use a line from a character who is a complete sociopath from a psych ward. Considering the anger that I feel towards our old real estate agent I thought it was fitting, and when I say anger I am so livid that I’m smiling. It’s slightly psychotic, and I’m kind of scared for them.

Because I can get crazy. Really. Fucking. Crazy.


But this is not an anger you will ever see from me unless my life and my health are being threatened, along with the lives of the people closest to me.

And this bullshit was supposed to stop once they got someone else in, which they have and they move in Saturday.

You only have to pay a maximum of 2 weeks rent, he says.

We will be up to date with pay, he says.

So why the fuck is there SEVEN HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS we owe you? This is not what we agreed to. This is not what we signed up for.

And then, just to piss me off further (which is fucking stupid) they decided to imply our cleaning wasn’t good enough, even though we cleaned everything they told us to clean. Then they try and say all this other shit isn’t clean enough, like leaves in the garage.

Leaves in the garage…

Leaves and dirt in a fucking garage, are you fucking kidding me? Because wind is thing, it moves light things like leaves all over different places. We swept when we left, are you seriously implying you want us to drive another fucking TWO HOURS just so I can sweep the leaves out of the garage again, because clearly it’s MY responsibility to make sure the wind doesn’t blow shit in the garage.

Clearly I am a God who knows how to control the wind pressure from over 50kms away. I should be fucking worshipped in a church, not being critisiced for something so incredibly fucking ludicrous.

I sent my last email today. I decided to catch up on my facts, and I read all 238 pages of the Tenancy Rights Act 1997. I finally got to shove the facts so far up their arseholes I bet they’re bleeding.

Section 234 – Reduction of fixed term tenancy agreement

2. The Tribunal may only make an order under this section of it is satisfied that, because of an UNFORSEEN change in the applicants circumstances, the severe hardship which the applicant would suffer if the term of the agreement were not reduced would be greater than the hardship which the other party would suffer if the term were reduced.

I used to have a good credit rating, now I am in debt. I used to be calm, now my mood is everywhere. And the only reason I was so fucking stressed that I was making my own body sick over it, was because of this continuous bullshit.

Because they don’t speak English properly, they like to use it to their advantage to be purposely vague so we sign shit without fully understanding what we’ve signed.

But I’ll be the racist cunt if I even say shit about it.

So fine, you want to be vague and international, I can be crazy and irrational, because in the laws eyes I am crazy.

I am medicated.

I have a pension card.


I missed a days worth of pills because we couldn’t afford them because of the stupid amount of rent we have to pay.

I felt like I wanted to die. Because it sucks to go from 100mg of seroquel to FUCKING NOTHING for a night when you’ve spent the last 2 years on it without missing a pill.

Tell me, heartless fucking arseholes, in what way does your hardship outweigh yours? A fucking charity told me they couldn’t help me because it was pointless to keep me in a house there was no way I could afford. The only way that charity could get us another house was if we were to become homeless. So who fucking knows though how long it’ll take them to find us one? There’s tonnes of homeless families here with children, how long would I have to live on the fucking streets till we got a new place.


And where exactly is your hardship? You are renting out a house, and living in another, which means you own 2 houses. But you want to keep trying to get money from us.


So fucking come at bro. I don’t have much left to lose, you’ve already tapped us out of all our money.

You can’t get blood out of stone, but a stone can sure get blood out of your face if I smash it in a couple of times.

My Heart Bleeds For Orlando

I may not be American, I may not be homosexual, but one thing I share in common with everybody else living this tragedy is that I’m human.

I don’t watch the news, I stay away from current events because I can’t handle the pain, the suffering of so many. I can’t support the fact that we watch the news for entertainment purposes, not because it has any accuracy.

I found out about this on WordPress first, but now I’m watching all the people I love watching on YouTube, speaking about this with such pain. Because the YouTube community was also affected by this massacre.


This is Christina Grimmie, she was shot 3 times. She is most well known for her singing, and I believe she went pretty far on The Voice in 2014. She started making YouTube videos when she was 15 years old, she had over 3 million subs and was finally recognised for her vocal talent. I am 25 years old in a month, born in 1991. Christina was born in 1994, making her 3 years younger then me. And in that time she gave back to the community, she donated to charity, started events, she achieved more in her life then I have, then most people get to. And she was gunned down in the prime of her life. She didn’t even get to reach a quarter of a century…

FIFTY people died, this is one of the biggest massacres that has happened for a long while. If I knew every person I would’ve written about all of them.

I could go on about how outrageous and sick this whole massacre is. But this isn’t what this post is about. There is too much pain and suffering right now everywhere, and I don’t want to be part of it.

This is just to say, man, I hope this starts getting people to think, because the world is going in an incredibly scary direction. And at this point of time, while there is so much anger and pain around us, it’s more important then ever to be kind. To be understanding, to be empathetic. The world doesn’t need any more anger.

This is the straw that broke the camels back though. There is still clearly a major fault in our humanity, and that is the ability to adapt to new things. No matter what you believe to be right or wrong is your option, if you don’t agree with gay marriage, that is your opinion, it’s not an incredibly nice or useful viewpoint, but it may not necessarily make you a bad person.

But if you kill, rape and abuse what you don’t agree with in the name of morality/religion/whatever the fuck excuse you have to be a judgemental fucking cunt, then you are the very black and white definition of fucking EVIL.

I’m going to post a video by Boogie, who is my favourite vlogger on YouTube, he sums up all of what I want to say.

To all my American friends, I just want you to know that we are all affected by this event, and there are people with hearts all over the world that are bleeding for all of the people suffering from this horrible tragedy.

This is more then just an American problem, this is the side of humanity that needs to change, and fucking quickly, before we lose this Earth entirely.

In this world and reality, homophobia, racism and sexism are all OLD ideals. It’s time for those old ideals to die.