Posted in Family, Humor, Life

My Siblings Are Amazing People, Despite Being Weird

.MA loving brother and two sisters standing together.
Canva

Some would call me an accident. And by some, I mean my mother. In full disclosure though, she always said I was the best accident that she’s ever had.

My sister was 15 when I was born and my brother was 13. So I didn’t have very many years with them around before they flew from the nest with little thought to the foundling left behind. Which could be the main reason why we never learned to hate each other.

Growing up, my brother was definitely my biggest ally and caretaker. He would pull me around in a box, which in hindsight is not that great. But apparently, I loved it back then. It’s not as fun when you’re 42, though. My sister didn’t spend much time with me when I was very young because she was a social butterfly and the queen bee of our little town.

My brother married the love of his life shortly after leaving for college. He excelled in his career and still is the best husband I’ve ever seen up close. He dotes on his family. He has continuously educated himself and moved up in every aspect of his life. I am only now just beginning to understand how important it is to keep growing and learning as a person.

My sister became my best friend when I was a little older. As a teenager, I thought the sun rose and set on her. She was my hero for many years.

As adults, we have both been prone to impulsiveness and bad decisions. We both love to prank people and can be somewhat obnoxious at times. There have been many moments in my adulthood that I wouldn’t have made it through, if she hadn’t been my ally. For the most part, we are always there for each other when we need each other.

There is not another man, other than my husband, that I respect more than my brother. If more men were as good at being a husband as he always has been, this world’s divorce rate would plummet. There is not another person on this planet that can make me laugh as much as my sister can.

I don’t want to make any of this go to their heads, because it will. And my sister cannot afford that at all. I just wanted to take a moment to praise them, because all I hear about from my kids how much they hate each other. Not all of them do that, but most of them do. And if they don’t say it, it is very evident in their actions.

I know they love each other, because when any one of them is sick they will ask about the ill one behind closed doors. I guess it would be considered a sign of weakness to them, if they thought anyone knew they really cared.

I pray that they will grow out of this feeling. Other parents have assured me that they will, but I never have had ill feelings towards my siblings so I wouldn’t know about that.

I would love to post a picture of my brother and sister, but one of them is immensely private. I don’t feel right about posting one and not the other. However, I will post their Social Security numbers. Kidding…

I would really love to hear about other people’s relationships with their siblings. I would especially love to hear about siblings that grew up not liking each other, but ended up becoming really close as adults.

In this life we will never truly be apart, for we grew to the same beat of our mothers heart.

Daphne Fandrich

Posted in Content, Humor, Ideas, Life, satire, tips

Public Service Announcement



Articles are meant to share information, tips, and opinions. This one is important to my heart. It is a list of the items I think should be made to be common sense knowledge at a minimum.

Teach it in school, teach it at home, blare it from loudspeakers in North Korea, and replace all media ads with it. I don’t anyone to be able to claim ignorance anymore. We are all put on this Earth for a reason and I know what mine is.

Best case scenario, this would become criminal activity. I have about 18 laws I will recommend we take off the books if we can have these in their stead.

Kylie’s Public Service Announcements

1st offense — Warning

2nd offense — Life in prison

Backpack

You, good sir, are not a backpack. So, kindly remove yourself from being one millimeter from me while we are standing in line at the gas station. Standing closer to me won’t get me done with my transaction any faster.

I do not like feeling your breath on my shoulder. “I beg your pardon, Sir. Please remove your breath from my neck and fuck off a few feet back.”

Even with the pandemic and the six feet away rule in place, it does not stop some people. These people are primarily at the gas station and Wal-Mart for some reason.

Holding The Door

Look, I am from Georgia and no one appreciates a gentleman more than us. But if I’m 500 yards away in the gas station parking lot, please do not hold the door for me. I do not want to do an awkward run/walk across the parking lot. Then you will not be standing there holding the door for five minutes straight.

We all appreciate what you’re trying to do. God sees you and we all see you. Just cut it out, though. I am not trying to run.

Hygiene

For god’s sake, please brush your teeth and bathe. Dousing yourself in cologne does not count as bathing.

Some of us can still smell so please have pity. If you are not sure if you smell or not, ask yourself when was the last good scrubbing you had. Or ask a friend or a family member to tell you.

Lady with cardigan with her head bent and hair astray.
Photo by DANNY G on Unsplash

Cardigan

Just because I like to wear a cardigan does not mean I am a librarian. I work on the south side of my town and apparently they equate every white person in a sweater as a librarian. Make no mistake, my street CRED is unparalleled.

Cardigans are amazing. If you are hot, you can take it off. If you are cold, you can put it on. You can buy one in every color to go with every shirt that you own. Stop the hate against cardigans.

And also, calling someone a librarian is not an insult. There’s no shame in being smart or appearing to be smart. I just don’t like the ignorance of cardigan shaming.

Lottery

For the love of all that is holy, please play your damn lottery during working hours. Not right before work starts or right after work ends. We have jobs to get to and don’t have time for you to pick eight number sevens, five number threes, and eight number twos.

And please tell me how the hell you manage to have the money to play the lottery every day when you don’t, apparently, go to work. I’m talking to you, weird creepy guy that hits on me every day at the gas station.

Get a job. The chance of you getting rich is much higher that way. The chance of you scoring at the gas station is much higher that way as well.

A scratch off lotto ticket on a table.
Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

Messenger

I have touched on this before. It’s still an issue. Facebook messenger was not invented for the sole purpose of harassing women on the internet. At least I don’t think it was.

Regardless, it is absolutely the most annoying thing that has ever happened. Even though I find some small pleasure in rebutting the advances of said weirdos, I wish they would just stop already.

I’m sure there are women that have used this for that as well, but I have never heard of one in my life or from someone I know. Just last week I had a man asking me to use him financially, no strings attached. Now if I was a younger, dumber version of myself, I might’ve fallen for that.

I’m 41. I know there’s no such thing as no strings attached. So, sorry Buddy, you’ll have to spend your paycheck on yourself or some other lady that believes you will leave her alone and just hand her the money.


These are just some of the most urgent items I must fix as your new leader. I mean, someone should do something about these issues.

So call upon Congress or write me in for the next election. The choice is yours.


Posted in Humor

Weird is the New Black

Pink haired lady holding a candy filled shoe and a cupcake.
Photo by Canva

I will be the first one to admit that I am weird as hell. I prefer to call it being a rare, limited edition. However you fluff it up, I love myself weird. There are enough vanilla people running the streets already! I’m so proud of how weird I am that I am going to break down all the ways that I am excessively weird. I hope somewhere a closet weirdo will read this and know they are not alone. Some of these items used to bother me but, the older I’ve gotten, the less f%^ks I have had to give.

I am not aware of how statistics work, but I can make things up just as easily as the next gal, so I’m going to state the fact that 10% of people are addicted to cocaine. I am in the 2% that are addicted to succulents. (Do you see what I did there? You can literally make up any statistics you want). Succulents are hard to kill, cacti like plants. I have a lot of them and continue to accrue them as often, or more often, as I kill them. I also talk to them. At one point, I tried to teach them Spanish. Actually, I was just practicing my skills. Not that they offered any insight.

I also have odd habits in regards to my clothing. I don’t like buying items I won’t use or get my money’s worth out of. Being extremely poor for a few years definitely helped me with money management. So, with that being said, I wear my clothes in the order that they are hung up in my closet. I start at the front. If a said item happens to be out of season (long sleeves in summer, etc.), I will hang in in the back and start the rotation again. I like to feel like I’m getting my money’s worth out of my clothing because I may or may not spend excessively in this category.

I absolutely hate the voice on my map app that I use to drive everywhere but I absolutely cannot live without it. I hate her/him/it so much that, when it tells me to take a left, I respond every time with, “No, YOU turn left! You piece of$&@?!’b ,?$& !” Or something to that effect.

I despise it when people name their dogs with a human name. I am not yelling, “Edward! Come here!” or “Jason, put that ball down!” It’s not right and I strongly feel that it should be made illegal immediately. Two good examples of perfect dog names are my dogs. The youngest mutt has the distinguished name of Baxter VonFerrell, III. My older gentleman pup is named Snoopy Donkey McDougal. We only yell out the middle name if they are in big trouble, which is the standard we all go by throughout the world, I believe.

Lastly, I would like to confess to you about my obsession with lists. I have hundreds of them on every subject you could ever imagine. I don’t remember exactly when I became a listoholic but it was within the last ten years or so. I plan to publish an article soon naming twenty or so of my favorite lists. I know I can’t be the only list obsessed person who is also, at the same time, a hugely disorganized wreck of a person. I consider all of my lists to be sacred. Reading, skimming, or even glancing at one could possibly earn you a throat punch.

So, yes, I am weird. I have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy, I am obsessed with Will Ferrell, and I give out lectures like Oprah hands out everything. I am not only ok with my weirdness, but I love it. I used to try and imitate my friends and hide my weirdness by pretending to like golf and sweater vests. I got tired very quickly and stopped. They kept loving me anyway! I also gained new friends. It turned out, a lot more people accepted my personality than not. I did have a few look down at me but I think they were just hating me because I was free and they weren’t. It’s hard to feel bad for someone that is in the prison that they made for themselves.

My previous husband (current one is awesome) tried to stifle me. He succeeded for a while. He slowly robbed me of my friends and dulled my personality with verbal abuse and constant criticism. He tried to take me and turn me into a dull shell of a person. He didn’t succeed. I won then and I keep on winning.

Here is a link to another one of my life-altering, hard-hitting articles. Also, feel free to send an e-mail to kylie@kyliesells.com and I will add you to my random, unpredictable newsletters that will update you on my life and make you feel a whole lot better about yours!