Tag Archives: humor

XXL panties my ass.

24 Aug

I am quite aware I have been absent from the blogging world and I do feel a tinge of guilt for not writing anything new or entertaining for my readers. But I am just having so much fun with my boys this past month that writing hasn’t really been a top priority. And, I’ve started homeschooling B for kindergarten which is much more time-consuming than one may think. Anywho, I do have a bit of something I would like to share.

Wal-Mart lies.

Let me explain.

Last weekend I went on a weekend camping trip with my T, B and my in-laws. We drove from Hamilton, ON to Erie, Pennsylvania. It was a gorgeous day. The weather was perfect, the drive was smooth, the company was even better. We got to the camp in the early evening, set up everything, started a fire, roasted marshmallows. It was camping at it’s finest!

Next day.

T and I made a kickass breakfast over the campfire. During the course of the morning I began to itch. I didn’t know why. I had recently bathed, I hadn’t been in the woods, I do not have crabs, but everything was itchy. I mean, hardcore. The plan for the day was to go into Erie and shop till we dropped, I was hoping the itching would cease and I could enjoy myself. The itching did not cease. I broke out in a rash wherever clothes touched my skin. I was miserable and becoming quite a nasty bitch because of it.

Thinking, thinking, thinking…

*Light bulb* The new laundry soap! I had bought an off-brand laundry soap to save a couple bucks. I must be allergic to it.
We went to Wal-Mart to get me something to wear for the rest of the camping trip. I found the clothes without a problem. Sweatpants, sweatshirt, t-shirt…the camping basics. I had to get underwear too as my undies were in danger of being torn to shreds from my nails clawing at them. Seriously, I had no shame people. I was scratching like a man without an audience.

Surveying the panty isle was depressing. I am a panty snob. I buy my underthings at Victoria’s Secret because every other brand makes my parts feel sad. But I had very little choice in the matter now. My parts would soon be getting stitches and ointment if I didn’t remedy the situation soon, so Wal-Mart panties it was. *somberballs*

I grabbed a couple Medium’s that somewhat appealed to my taste and went into the dressing room. They cut off my circulation, digging deep into my hips and thighs. Holy Balls Batman! Had I gained 50 pounds?

I checked the tags. Apparently a “Medium” is a size 4. Yeah frickin right balls….

I made my way back out to the racks, utterly annoyed. Muttering to myself criticisms about Wal-Mart and apologizing to Victoria’s Secret for my unintentional betrayal. I decided that having to wear Wal-Mart panties would suffice as my punishment for this indiscretion.
Thumbing through the hangers of panties I realized that in this scam of an establishment I am an XL. Seriously… *sigh*

Back to the dressing room.

They were too tight as well. This is so uncool, Wally-Balls.

One last attempt. I resolved to go commando the rest of the weekend if they were tight as well.

XXL…fit. You bitch.

Dear Wal-Mart,

Your panties made my parts feel the most sad they had ever felt. If my lady parts had tear ducts, my toes would have been wet all weekend from the disconsolate river of  tears flowing down my legs. Also, your sizing is a crock of balls. I detest you and your panties. Well done on making me feel ginormous and assaulting my self-esteem.

You Suck Balls,


P.S. It was your cheap off-brand detergent that made me itchy in the first place. I hate you.

A protest in Utah against Wal-Mart

I stand with these women. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Why I’d Fail (or succeed) in Advertising

31 May

A few days ago a friend of mine, V we’ll call her, from MDA Camp came to me asking for some creative help in making a poster. She too is on the Help Susie Bandwagon and planned to share Susie’s Story with 20,000 nerds in an online community she’s active in. These awesome nerds have been very successful at helping raise funds and awareness for charities in the past. We both were hoping they would decide to aid in Susie’s quest for a new heart. Ultimately she designed this online poster and shared it with her nerdtastic peers!



As I was brainstorming a properly worded tag-line to go along with V’s Save Ferris idea, I got a bit side-tracked. V knows this is a hazard of working with me creatively and she welcomed my spin on things. Well, she welcomed the spins but she wasn’t going to use them, obviously. I came up with a number of mildly offensive yet wildly hilarious ideas. Most of which would have been upsetting to uptight people (probably the rich ones who could pay for the whole transplant). Some ideas I didn’t share with V because I knew I was completely out of line.

What I did come up with, I believe,  is nice balance of politically incorrectness and funny. I think it will work with the audience I am trying to reach. Ya know, the ones who can laugh? So here you have it! Do me a solid and spread it around please!


I was thinking to have V make a few more posters with varying world issues/crisis’ crossed out. And this my readers is why I would fail or succeed in advertising. You’d either love my work, or find it offensive. Either way though… You’d see it and you’d definitely remember it/talk about it (for good or bad reasons, it doesn’t matter in advertising). So I think that’s a win for myself and Team Susie!

Whether or not you choose to share either poster, please take a couple of minutes to read my Post About Susie, and Visit Her Site.

Thank you! And Happy Thursday Everyone!


PS – Suggestions for poster ideas are welcome! Please share in the comment box.

Coffee Snob

23 May

We went grocery shopping last night. Amongst other staples, I needed coffee ASAP as I was completely out. The brand I usually get is the closest tasting to Starbucks that’s in my price range.  It’s not great, but good enough.


We made our way to the coffee isle. There was a sale on the Maxwell House brand. It was a whole $10 cheaper than what I usually buy. I hemmed and hawed, grabbed the darkest possible roast of Maxwell House, looked at it intently, put it back. Grabbed my usual, thought about it… Really, $10? How can I not buy Maxwell House? It just seemed so illogical at the time to buy my usual brand when something was so cheap. And it’s not like it was Instant Folgers or Tim Hortons…bleck!

T is looking at me like, “just pick one, it’s coffee”. He doesn’t understand. Every time I drink coffee other than Starbucks, a taste bud dies. Every morning my mouth holds a wake. He’ll never truly comprehend what I have given up in order to marry him….never.

I resolved to get Maxwell House with the idea that if I’m going to settle for sub-par coffee, I might as well save 10 dollars doing so. I hung my head as I walked back to the cart, I felt so defeated inside.


This morning arrives. I open the coffee. I am instantly assaulted with a miasma of disappointment. It smells like dirt and misfortune. Second, for a “Rich Dark Roast” it’s the color of terra-cotta. I was half-tempted to make tea and dump out the whole can, but I didn’t. This was about trying something new, and perhaps growing a little. I tried to be optimistic, really, I did try. I hesitantly loaded the grounds into the filter. I felt like I was abusing my poor Bunn. I made enough for 1 cup, and poured it into my favorite cup. I thought the cup may help up the enjoyment factor.

No, no, absolute NO! The first sip killed at least 3 taste buds, the second took out at least 5. Can’t do it, won’t do it, wouldn’t force this on my arch nemesis. OK, maybe I would… but not on anyone else.

I thought maybe if I doubled the amount of grounds it would produce something more palatable. I ran another cup through. No, worse. Oh balls.  How could it be worse?! All it did was enhance the taste of fresh death as it killed 6 more taste buds. I could not subject my mouth to this again. There was no hope for this coffee. No amount of cream or sugar would improve its bouquet or flavor.

I’m certain that if a unicorn appeared, serving me this cup of coffee from a tray it carried on its back, I would still be unable to drink it. (Honestly though, a unicorn would totally serve up something better than Maxwell House. Like magic guava juice or Starbucks with champagne bubbles.)

Down the drain it went along with my opportunity to grow.


I tried to settle and be content with my $10 of savings, but I couldn’t. I tried my very hardest to be optimistic but failure screamed down my throat as I swallowed. It burned my stomach lining with the acidity of mediocrity.

At least I can say I tried, and hey, it only cost me 4 bucks….


Question Period: Is there anything in your life you have to have?  We all have our “things”. Please Share!

The Cleaning Catalyst

18 May

Today I had planned to clean this house like the dirty girl it is… but I have failed miserably. I have cleaned the bathroom top to bottom which was no easy feat, and then took the easy route and tidied the living room.

I got on Skype to procrastinate by talking to my friend Adam.

I asked him to give me his best “Dead Beat Husband” message and yell at me to Clean the kitchen. He did pretty good considering he’s 20 years old and the farthest thing from dead beat or a husband.


He tried, but failed. We chatted about my blog a bit and he said he saw the post about “period blood” and was going to skip it… There was a lull in the conversation. I assumed he started playing a video game or trolling around like he does. He messaged me a 5 minutes later with a quote from The “Period” Card. He was laughing.

Then he linked me this http://heyyeyaaeyaaaeyaeyaa.com/ and I instantly loved him more than I did 2 minutes prior. He encouraged me to turn it up really loud and show that kitchen who’s boss!
I’m getting my rubber combat gloves right after this post!

It’s on dishes!  It’s on counter tops! It’s on you dirty sticky nasty floor! ITS FREAKING ON!


Thanks Adam. It’s friends like you that bring a healthy balance of procrastination conversation and positive motivation to be productive…eventually, into my every day life. ❤

Do It Right

18 May

I might be 25 but I can still be a bratty little sister.

November 2011:

My mom is visiting me in Canadaland for 2 weeks. My sister calls on Skype because she is frustrated with her weight loss. (Leah has been dropping the pounds and rocking it! So proud of you Leah!)

Leah: Momma, I’ve plateaued.

Mom: This is totally expected hun. You should change-up your diet and increase your exercise.

Leah: Yeah, I know. But I don’t know what else I can do, diet wise….

They go back and forth brainstorming. My mom continues to encourage Leah, she seems to be unresponsive and set on being pouty. (I’m such a little sister)

While Leah and mom are having this LONG discussion I become a wee-bit bored. I’m sitting across the room from my mom so Leah can not see me. I start mimicking my sister. I’m moving my hands as I imagine Leah is doing, moving my head back and forth while flapping my mouth. Our mom is trying her best to ignore me. She does this quite well but at times she is a bit delayed in responding to Leah. Over time, she begins to crack and starts struggling with her facial expression and forming sentences. SUCCESS! Leah catches on. She knows I am up to something.

Leah: Lacey, what are you doing? (she’s a little annoyed but mostly curious)

I move across the room and stand directly behind the laptop. Leah can hear me, but not see me.

Me: In a very serious voice I say, “Leah, I have an idea to help you conquer this plateau.”

Leah: “Yeah? What is it?”

The look on my moms face… she knows me too well. She knows I’m about to say something dripping of sarcasm and completely insensitive.  She knows I can not keep it in my head, it has to be released. Mom is now working on her facial expression. She’s preparing to stay straight-faced after whatever I deliver.

Me: Do it right. (I say this in an obviously sarcastic way with a titch of condescension)

Leah: WHAT!?

Me: (I slow it down real good) Do… It… Right.

Leah: Oh Lacey! (this is the response I get when Leah thinks I am funny, but also rude/annoying/vulgar/or generally inappropriate)

Our mom gives Leah her best “above it all” face to Leah trying her best to not react to what just happens. She totally fails though. She thinks I am hilarious. SUCCESS!

They continue on with other matters concerning Leah. Next up for discussion was what she should do with her hair. Color, Cut, Style… I take the opportunity to pester once more.

Me: Oooo! I know! This would be awesome! I don’t think you’ve ever done this before….

Leah and my mom are interested in my amazing light bulb.

Leah: What Lace? What ya thinking?

Me: How bout’ you do it right.

Leah hollers at me and my mom once again is trying to keep composed. Leah insists I show myself on Skype. I deny her this blessing. It’s way too much fun not being seen. She doesn’t see these things coming and it’s way too entertaining for me!

I got a few more “Do it right’s” in there before they FINALLY wrapped up their conversation. As they were saying goodbye she shouted, “Bye Butthead!” I replied “DO IT RIGHT! AND GOOD NIGHT!”

She cursed at me but I wasn’t quite sure what she said. I was however sure that she cursed with a smile, and that my readers, was a great example of “Doing It Right”.

This recount of me saying “Do it Right” was playful and completely in jest. I love my sister and I did (between being a sarcastic brat) offer up real ideas and solutions to her dilemmas that evening.



BUT  there have been so many instances where I encountered an absolute moron. It takes “filter overdrive” to prevent myself from blurting out in utter annoyance, “Do it right!”

I want to design a “Do It Right” ticket/citation of sorts. There would be boxes I can check next to moronic behaviour, or things that I generally see people doing wrong. There would be space on the back for specific write-ups with pointers, books, or other materials that could aid them. At the bottom it would have big letters reading DO IT RIGHT with my number to call if they need assistance figuring it out.

The “Intoxication Justification” Card

8 May

Usage Guidelines: Use to excuse poor judgement, particularly inappropriate behaviour or socially unacceptable acts.
Expiration: Whenever the receiver cares to revoke its validity. Because after all, this card is a cop-out. You know it, I know it, and the court of law especially knows it.

I’ve used this card a couple of times. My usual usage of it entails me while trying to excuse something I said or an inappropriate act, like peeing in a stranger’s front lawn and singing the “Cunt Song” far too loudly and way too early in the evening.

The card works on some people, others reject it immediately on the grounds that people are still in control of their behaviours, even whilst intoxicated. And sure, that’s true to an extent. I knew perfectly well that peeing in that person’s yard was a bad idea and an illegal act. But that facts were it was either their yard or my pants. I made a poor judgement call. But in all honesty, had I not urinated in their yard it most definitely would have been in my pants. 5 Jägerbombs and a couple of wine coolers were not going to stay put in my bladder for the 2 mile walk home. Hence, front yard peeing. When confronted with the irate homeowner yelling at me to “Get the eff off her lawn!” I hollered back, in my most composed and sincere voice, “I am so sorry. I am intoxicated and had to go. I promise I am doing no worse than your neighbors dog.” She started approaching me and I went into “pee super fast mode”, pulled up my pants and began running to catch up with my friends who had already took off at the first sight of her. This is an example of when  the “Intoxication Justification” Card is denied and I can guarantee the police wouldn’t have accepted it either had she reported me.

Significant others are the least inclined to accept this card. For example, My ex-husband put on my lingerie (consisting of a see-through baby doll and matching thong) and tried duck-taping my vibrator to his forehead. He then came out to show all our guests his ensemble. Sure he was intoxicated BUT not everyone was drunk enough to forget what he had done. I never recovered from that horrifying display and the subsequent stories that were told relaying it to his co-workers and friends alike. Whom I was in contact with daily. Oh balls…

This card can be pulled out to excuse sleeping in, breaking a vase or coffee table (ouch), argumentative behaviour, barfing on your friends’ carpet, swallowing a quarter, kissing a girl and liking it, mooning passerby’s, saying “cunt” more than one should, singing far too loudly and off-key, passing out in a taxi, falling off a deck, singeing the back hair off a friend, shaving a cat, throwing cake into random lawns, falling asleep completely naked in the hosts’ bathroom (This happened at my house twice by the same guy. I accepted the card but am left with life-long scars from the visuals)…honestly the list could go on forever. I allow this card for minor infractions like I listed, but infidelity and violence are never covered in my Gameplay.

Remember, this card is only valid to those whom believe in its sincerity. So use it as you wish but be prepared to beg for forgiveness, make a plea bargain in court or never show your face again, if it is rejected.

Cheers Mates!

Question Period:
Have you ever used the “Intoxication Justification” Card? What did you do and was it accepted or denied? Did it result in forgiveness, a slap in the face, or community service? I’d love to know!


4 May

OK, so they aren’t all pubes but they LOOK like pubes. Since I can not confirm or deny their origins they are all pubes, because I err on the cautious side.

I love my husband but he is a hairy beast. T sheds like a golden retriever. Except his hairs aren’t long, straight and golden. They are short, black and curly. It doesn’t help that the man is allergic to clothing, and immediately undresses down to his underwear the moment he enters our home. As he undresses the hairs jump off his body and find refuge on the floor. As he walks about the house in his skivvies and rough houses with B (who also has an aversion to clothing) he sheds his little hairs everywhere! I vacuum the couches and sweep daily as to keep my feet and clothing free of the questionable body hair. When guests come over I am always on “hair watch” and it really takes the enjoyment out of entertaining.

Don’t even get me started on what happens during/after sex. From the mixture of sweat and T’s hair loss, I look like his hairy equal. My clean-up is a bigger task than most women endure, and our sheets have to be changed. There is no way to rid the hair off them… Also, our dryer’s lint trap is consistently clogged with a mass of hair. Hardly any lint. Just hair, and more hair. I change it daily.

The bathroom is the worst of course. All the sac scratching while pooping (we all KNOW you guys do this) bathing and aggressive toweling really makes the hairs fly. And that’s the reason for my rant this morning. I’ve had it with the unidentified body hair. Something has to give, and its T’s hair. My life can not become a string of repetitive sweeping events. At this rate by the time I am 80 I’ll have swept up over 900 pounds of hair and wasted 5 years of my life in the process. I am sure of it.

I took to Google with my issue. I find that Google provides a solution for everything. I sorted through human-hair shedding articles first, but realized T is not your usual case when it comes to body hair shedding. I moved on to animals, we need drastic measures people. After about 20 minutes of skimming pet-shedding related articles my theory was confirmed. T sheds like he dog, he must be groomed like a dog. I’d like to thank the following site for your plethora of information. You have proved yourself invaluable in my fight against shedding and I will be incorporating your suggestions. http://www.petside.com/article/clean-freaks-guide-pet-shedding

Now off to Pet Smart! http://www.petsmart.com/product/index.jsp?productId=11324352

Welcome to Wal*Mart

4 May

It had been 4 months since losing my job as a nanny, and a month since returning from Italy. During that month I took time to visit my family in Las Cruces which consisted of a 32 hour Greyhound bus ride, copious amounts of Christmas music on replay and a guy trying to fondle me as I slept. Yeah, he tried. As soon as I felt his hand crawling up my thigh he was punched in the face and kicked into the aisle. My loud announcement awoke everyone on the bus and a few men made quick work of roughing up the creep. He was dropped off on the side of the road a few minutes later. It was a rough start to a holiday vacation but it was wonderful seeing my parents and being with them for Christmas through New Years. YAY! 2005!

From Las Cruces I flew to Texas where I met L who had returned from Italy. We were to spend 2 weeks visiting his family and I was to meet them all for the first time, then drive his mustang back to Idaho. I wish I could say this went well and in some aspects it did. Let’s just say his mother did not welcome me with the open arms I was hoping for. I was warned that she is a bit crazy some times, but I was not prepared for what felt like blind hatred. I could understand her not liking me if I was a druggy, a Satanist, a potty mouth, or really ugly… But I was none of those things. I knew then that if I married L she would be an obstacle I would always have to navigate. I was however welcomed and shown love by L’s father and step mom. Over the years we have grown very close and enjoy a loving relationship. I absolutely adore them both. L’s siblings were always cordial and put out effort to get to know me. I always felt like it was out of their love for their brother not because they genuinely liked me or were interested in who I was. Either way though, they were always kind and I really have nothing to complain about. I wish I could say that the relationship between his mother and I improved over the years but I can’t. She remains the only person to ever consistently show me dislike and unjustifiable cruelty. Nothing else to say about the situation, well there is, but there is no point in sharing with the world. It is what it is.

After the visit in Texas which wasn’t very smooth, I was looking forward to stopping over in Las Cruces with L so he could meet my parents. The visit was short but nice, and they seemed to like L so I was pleased.

A few days after arriving in Mountain Home the job search began. I had to start making money and do something productive with my life. I went out on a job hunt. This wasn’t very easy. Mountain Home is a military fueled town with very few jobs to offer. There’s a grocery store, 3 restaurants, a few fast food places, a hardware store, 2 or 3 car dealerships, a movie theatre, a cable company, a hotel, a couple of gas stations…. that’s it really. Oh yes, and Wal*Mart. I applied everywhere on base first but there was a slim chance of me getting hired as the positions first go to active duty family members. Then I applied everywhere but the fast food places. I got an interview with Wal*Mart.

I landed the job. I wasn’t too thrilled to work at Wal*Mart, but it would provide me with income and oh how I missed having money! I started as a cashier and I actually liked it. Well besides the weird shifts I had to endure. 7pm-3am was torture for a couple of reasons. 1, My sleep was all sorts of strange and they liked to schedule me for 7pm-3am and then call me at 6am saying that they needed me for 9am. 2, Think of the people you normally see during the day at Wal*Mart. As the hours get later, they get weirder. Some nights the customers became my form of entertainment.

One family I remember because they left a scent memory. A scent memory is a memory that is engrained inside you because of a scent that’s attached to it. Every time I smell a strong scent of urine, I am reminded of them. The extremely obese couple would come in nearly every night around 11pm, with their 4 obese children in tow, wreaking of pee. I must have been their favorite cashier because  no matter how long my line was, they waited. After they passed through I had to disinfect my entire area to rid the area of the urine stench. I am not exaggerating. A few times I found myself fighting my gag reflex and the urge to call child protective services. I could only imagine the conditions they were living in! Another woman comes to mind too. This woman is a poster child for plastic surgery addiction and scary makeup application. I assumed she was in her 50’s or 60’s but it was hard to tell. It was however obvious she had a completely different face than the one she was born with. She would come in late and I can only attribute the lateness to her ritualistic make-up practices. Make-up that hideous and thick takes a lot of time. Trust me. I tried imitating the make-up with a friend and it took us well over 3 hours to perfect it. And that was with 2 of us working simultaneously. She bought hair bleach and an assortment of Jane makeup on a weekly basis. I am unsure of what the bleach was used for though. It was obvious she bleached the hair on her head, but her roots were always grown out an inch or so…. Where could all that bleach be going? I tried not to ponder on this question.

When I took the job at Wal*Mart my health was improving. I was still taking my herbs and off all pain medications. But the lack of rest and long hours on my feet began to take a toll after a few months. I talked to my supervisor about getting a stool to sit on during slow times, letting him know I was struggling with my muscle issues being on foot all day (He hired me knowing of my condition). He denied my request and said that their store wouldn’t allow sitting as a cashier. So he made me a greeter during half of my shift and that actually worked well. I stood the first half as a cashier and then the second half I was able to sit and smile, which was cake. I sit and smile well! “Welcome to Wal*Mart!” I had to have said it over a million times in 3 months. Sometimes I would go home to sleep and “Welcome to Wal*Mart” would be in my dreams. I would dream of greeting people, all the time. Sometimes I would dream of greeting aliens and animals too, just depended on the kind of day I had I guess.

Anyways, the greeter position was working out really well for me. But when they hired an old lady, I was forced off my stool and back to being strictly a cashier. After a week or 2 I again told my superior I could not manage standing for those hours and he said, “If you can’t do the job as is, then consider yourself let go.” I cried loudly, right there in his office. I believe I made him extremely uncomfortable, but I didn’t really care. I was so upset. This felt so wrong and unjust. At the time I was so distraught and disappointed that I didn’t even think of the Disabilities Act he was violating. Hindsight 20/20 I think I had a legal case with that dismissal. After 6 months of employment, I was unemployed, again.

I was so upset and discouraged. I had lost another job and had to go through all those same feelings of failure. My body was holding me back! I tried to get on disability after my dismissal but that was unsuccessful too. While working at Wal*Mart, L and I had gotten married. His income disqualified me.

Yes that’s right, we married. That’s the next post.

Tagging Balls

3 May

If you read my blog, you’ve probably realized that in nearly every post I tag the word “Balls”. Most of you wouldn’t think twice about why I do this,.”Lacey likes the word “Balls” and has used it in many forms of expression since childhood.” is what you probably think. But I’ve received some emails asking why from those who don’t personally know me. So this is for you guys/gals.


I’ve used the word “balls” since I was 11 years old. It started out of the blue when I decided to put the word “balls” at the end of every sentence and people’s names. My brother Bryan received the first “balls” name, and it’s the only one that has stuck through the years, Bryballs. I’m hungryballs. I’m tiredballs. I’m thirstyballs. I’m so excitedballs! BallsBalls? The list could go on and on. Through the years it has morphed into several different usages and forms of expression. I currently use the word to show excitement “HOLY BALLS THAT WAS AWESOME!”. I use it to voice disappointment, “Sadballs, I wanted to see you”. I use it to voice resignation, defeat and frustration “Oh balls.”. I use it to replace most curse words, “HOLY MOTHER BALLS! I STUBBED MY TOE!”

Now on to why I tag it.

WordPress has a graph that shows the blogger what “search terms” are used that lead a reader to your blog.
I gain great pleasure in seeing how many people come to my site, in search of Balls. That’s it. And let me tell you, TONS of people are in search of Balls and Balls-related topics. “Balls” is my most searched tag, in second place is God. Surprised? I’m not. God and balls go together like “Oh my Godballs!”. See?



The “Doormat” Card

3 May

Usage Guidelines: When you’re born without a backbone, OR, you’ve given up.

Expiration: When you find your spine.


I have met a couple doormats in my lifetime. Poor Doormats. I have no idea what it would be like to be one, but I am sure it would be miserable. The doormat card differs from other cards because it’s a passive card. People don’t choose this card, it’s not a cover up or an excuse. It’s a card people rarely have control over, and the only way to rid yourself of this card is therapy, most likely. There are some instances where people have completely given up on being happy or they have lost sight of their value in life, so they become a doormat. This is usually temporary though and once the person gets their shit together they stand back up and discontinue the passive behaviour.

Doormat behaviour is not to be confused with general politeness. Doormats continually deny their own desires in order please others. You’ll also find that the “friends” doormats keep are usually a bunch of jerks. They “befriend” the Doormat in order to feel powerful, and enjoy feeling the false sense of leadership. Usually they are bullies. There are some people though who keep doormats as friends in order to protect them, and empower them. I’ve only been successful once in helping a doormat find their backbone. It was no easy task.

Examples of Doormat Behaviour:

Friend- “I forgot my lunch. You wouldn’t mind if I had yours, right?”
Doormat- “No, go head. I wasn’t that hungry. I’m a doormat.”

Friend- “I left my wallet again, you got this?”
Doormat- “Sure no problem. I’m a doormat.”

Friend- “I need you to watch my 8 children while I go out drinking on Tuesday night, and I won’t be home until Wednesday because I’m a slut.”
Doormat- “I have a date on Tuesday night, can you go out Wednesday?”
Friend- “Seriously, you’re my best friend and I need you. Why are you so selfish? I guess you aren’t the good person I thought you were….”
Doormat- “No, no, I’ll cancel. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Friend- “Don’t forget to come early, you’ll need to make them dinner.”
Doormat- “Ok, no problem. I’m a doormat.”

Friend- “I forgot underwear.”
Doormat- “Here, have mine…I’m a doormat.”

Friend- “Insult, insult, insult”
Doormat- “Takes it, takes it, takes it. I’m a doormat.”

Friend- “Let’s go out to dinner. I want Indian food.”
Doormat- “Indian food makes me vomit.”
Friend- “Good, maybe that will help with the weight you wanted to lose.”
Doormat- “Yeah, OK, sounds good…I’m a doormat”


Doormats will do anything to feel accepted or to avoid confrontation, even at the cost of their own emotional well-being. Doormats don’t choose this way of living and they need a Door to stand tall in front of them. If you know a Doormat, don’t misuse them, BE THE DOOR. Protect them, encourage them, help them find their inner voice and teach them to use it. If by chance you’ve become a doormat because you’ve lost your passion for life, or you’ve devalued yourself, I offer you these thought-provoking quotes.


“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” -Dr Seuss

“What we think, we become.” – Margaret Thatcher (Don’t think negative, or you’ll be negative. Don’t think doormat, or you’ll be a doormat. Don’t think worthless, you are anything but.)

“Value yourself. The only people who appreciate a doormat are people with dirty shoes.” Leo Buscaglia


If you are tired of being a doormat and can’t afford therapy, Google is your friend. Look what I found in 1.3 seconds! A “How-To” Speak Your Mind article!  Check it out, be empowered, let your voice be heard! You’re worth it.