Googling Me is Useless

I'm not particularly well-known, but I don't really want to be. I do however, want you to share my stuff. Googling me is useless, since I'm not trying to date you or help you run a background check on me. I just want you to share my stuff.

Did I mention that you might want to share my stuff?

If you google my name, you may find my various websites, t-shirt designs, blogs, graphic design, YouTube channel, or my couple of online publications. You will also probably find a few slanderous articles about me, or claims that I'm a Scientologist, which is a lie. For years, I ran a grassroots nonprofit against pharmaceutical companies who basically kill babies left and right, as well as children, and adults. I've run out of things to say on those sites. I do like to follow the hot topics. I'll probably go back to promoting those sites, but I'm frustrated because I find that most people don't want off their drugs, and I can't really help the others any more than I already have. Nevertheless, please don't do pharmaceutical drugs. They ruin lives and could kill you.

If people share my articles, it makes me happy because I tend to write about the things that you should know (Share my stuff).

My past life on Google is useless and I am no longer that person:

There are disadvantages to writing, one being the teenage diary effect. That is when you read something you wrote a long time ago and it becomes embarrassing. On social media, this is also the side effect of too much online posting. Luckily, for me, Facebook allows me to delete old posts daily with the memories function. Through this tool I can regularly delete memories I no longer care about, like my ex husband flirting with me on Facebook, or the day I got ticked off at Obama in 2008 (do these ever stop?), or one time when I posted something about a song I was writing that was awkward. If you google me you're likely to get confused. I used to have a different last name, and nobody could pronounce it correctly. I got remarried to a man who's better-looking than my ex. If you google me you're likely to see me looking or sounding like a weirdo or posing with a person who now hates my guts and spreads vicious lies about me.

Again, if you google me, and you see the old husband with the weird face, it would be pointless to send the Illuminati to kill him. That would be doing me a favor since I owe him so much in child support (don't judge me!). Kidding!! (Haha not really? Ok kidding.)

Why I'm Here

I want everyone to know the things I know. I want to read interesting things and encourage others to share the most important stuff. Also I want to reward other artists and writers for their work.

Speak: English (pretty well) (attempted Spanish and took Latin in High School but I'm not fluent in Spanish and Latin is dead)
Education: J.D., Teaching Certificates, B.A.
Social Following:
Twitter - 859 Followers
Facebook - I run too many pages to count the followers

Some Of My Favorite Things:
Interior Design & Architecture / Landscape Design (in another universe, I'm just like the Fixer Upper lady, or Martha Stewart without the criminal record)
Graphic Design (yeah, I can Photoshop for you)
Espresso machines
Olive Oil
Sports: skiing, running, tennis, swimming
TV Show: Supernatural
Stand-up Comedian: VOID THIS QUESTION - I HATE ALL STAND UP COMICS
Favorite Books:
1984
Prozac: Panacea or Pandora? Our Serotonin Nightmare by Ann Blake Tracy
Death in the Air: Globalism, Terrorism and Toxic Warfare by Leonard Horowitz

Favorite Research Topics about my Least Favorite Topics, which are the Most Important Topics:
Pizzagate
Chemtrails
Vaccines
Planned Parenthood

Favorite YouTubers:
The Vigilant Christian
The Vigilant Citizen
The Fuel Project
Binging with Babish
You Suck at Cooking

My Pandora Station is made up of:
Ryan Adams, Ray LaMontagne, Bon Iver, and those like Ryan Adams

Musical talents:
Singing. Guitar. Piano. Cello. The cereal box bongo drum. Stupid songs I make up in the bath while cleaning my babies.

About me:
I'm really cool because I've given birth on epidurals in the hospital, in a bed in the hospital after running there from a tub because that's the rule, in a tub with no drugs, in a bed at home with no drugs, and in a bathroom at home with no drugs, but with some dumb EMTs and firefighters who cut the cord too quickly. Those were crappy births (because truly, birth kinda sucks), but the babies that resulted are far from crappy. If you deduced that I have several different children, you're a smart person.