Argo Fuck Yourself Cancer

Ah fuck me….

You’re so strong they say. …Tara 
You’re a fighter…. Tara
You’ll get through this…. Tara
We’ll love you Tara….{ with or without tits [real or fakies]}

I know…I know….I’ll be the same chick with the fanfuckintastical penchant of the word fuck–used in any variant–going against the grain. Because that is who I am.


But goddammit, I’m tired of being strong
Or am I
Ya know, truth be told
I really don’t think about the shit in life

The intent of this post is highlighting our abilities as humans to bounce back with such remarkable resiliency we almost always bounce back, stronger than before, speaking our minds more and telling those that need to get fucked, to go fuck themselves.

I am strong because of who I am.

My walks singularly & together with family, friends and enemies

You are strong because of your walk.

We are strong.

My  husband may be the only one that will have my hand this entire journey [that is fucking cancer] . He knows me, my cycles, my moods better than I–no shit. He knows before I know. I should know, but I don’t. Ya know?–We will start the day with an embrace, kiss and one last hand hold…….We may walk side by side, ahead or behind each other, depending upon current mood. [*I secretly may wish for aliens to probe his ass when he pisses me off. He may wish the same fate upon me; fortunately for him, we don’t live in Florida (ha, had too) or trailer park (yup)]….occasionally there may be times when we’ll stand on opposite sides of the same room during the day but at the end of the night, we are in cahoots with each other. That knowledge allows me to calm my chaotic brain and take a semi-deep breath.

I know I am stronger because of me.
we are holding hands
together in life.
the good the bad and the shitty
argo fuck yourself cancer

peace, love & root-beer floats



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