If it's Saturday this must be Maryland

Today I’m at the Gaithersburg Book Festival and you need to come see me.  Please?  But until I get back, a rerun from many years ago after I found a miracle lawn boobie.  It’s all pretty self-explanatory:

So this morning I went out to to check on the miraculous boobie mushroom and it was fucking gone.

And I was a little upset because I’m pretty sure my neighbor stole it to sell on ebay but I just said a little prayer (in the form of me flipping off my neighbor’s house) thanking God for letting me see the miracle boobie if only for a short time.  It’s like it was a sign that life is fragile, or that I’m watering the lawn too much.  Then the really weird shit happened.

Yesterday several of my readers pointed out that the miracle boobie was probably a sign from St. Agatha, who is best know for being the patron saint of breast cancer after she dedicated her life to God and then had her boobs cut off by some jerks for not whoring around and then God healed her.  But then she died anyway.  It’s complicated.

I do have standards, y'all.
I do have *some* standards, y'all.

But then, like a foot away from where the miracle boobie had been, was this:

One's bigger than the other, just like in real life.
One's bigger than the other, just like in real life.

A double boobie mushroom.

I mean, technically it doesn’t have much of a nipple and the areola is kinda brown and not really breast-like at all, but still.  The point is that the miracle boobie was cut down in it’s prime but then grew back, exactly like when those guys cut off the boobs of St. Agnes and they miraculously grew back.  But I suspect they didn’t grow back very well because why else would she always be depicted carrying her old boobies on display in a cake dish?  Probably because the new ones looked like these:

Technically I've seen worse.
Technically I've seen worse.

Even miracles have limitations, y’all.  Plus, St. Peter was the dude who actually came down and re-made her boobies and I’m pretty sure Saints don’t have sex so he probably didn’t even know what they were supposed to look like.  He was probably all “BANG! Pretty hot, right?” and Agatha was all “Um..huh.  You know what?  They’re fine.  I’m not going to use them anyway.”

PS. I went just back and read the whole story and it turns out that God gave St. Agatha a miracle to make her boobs grow back but then left her in prison to die by being rolled over hot coals naked and shit. The hell? I mean, I don’t want to question miracles but maybe letting the guard forget to lock the door would have been a better one.  Or maybe turning the hot coals turn into pudding.  But no, God’s all “They cut off your boobs?!  That shit is totally not kosher.  I GRANT YOU NEW BOOBIES!” and she was probably all “Um…Thanks? But maybe I could also get out of prison?”  Except probably she didn’t even say that because when God gives you a miracle you have to just smile like you love it even if it’s totally not what you wanted.  And probably even when she was dying she was all “Okay, I’m gonna use the present face so I don’t hurt God’s feelings but seriously? My boobs are getting destroyed here in these hot coals too.  What the hell, dude?” but probably she didn’t say it out loud because she’s a martyr and that’s what martyrs do.  Except I’d totally say it out loud because “Ow.”  And then maybe God would be all “OH! Crap, I’m so sorry! Brain fart.  What would the point of me giving you new boobs and then letting you get tortured?  What is wrong with me today?” and I’d be all “Dude. Don’t even worry about it. I’m totally having one of those days too.  Also, thanks for the new boobs.  Even though they kind of look like mushrooms” and he’d be all “What?”  and I’d be like “Nothing.  It’s nothing.  I’ll let myself out.”  Because God has more important things to worry about than my boobs.  Like famine.  And…locusts.  And that’s why I think that maybe these mushrooms really are a sign from God.  Or that they’re just mushrooms.  The point is that I learned more about St. Whats-her-name and her boobs so either way, I’m spreading God’s word.  They’re probably going to name a whole building for me in Heaven.

Comment of the day: Maybe God told Peter to give her saline implants. It would put out the fire, be deemed a miracle. Win/win.  St. Peter.  He’s always fucking things up. ~ Dingo

77 thoughts on “If it's Saturday this must be Maryland

Read comments below or add one.

  1. Hahaha, I can’t wait to get into the Bloggess Building when I die. If that is, in fact, where I’m headed…

  2. Well. Then. Have you you ever held your boobs in sympathetic agony first thing in the morning? Cause I have. Sweet Jesus St. Peter. Were you high that day?

  3. Heading up to Gaithersburg this afternoon. Can’t wait!!! Don’t worry Jenny, we’re coming!!!

  4. I’ve been checking my lawn for things that look like boobs and frankly, I’m disgusted. Typical bloody UK. I blame the government.

  5. I have been treating since October for breast cancer, and this whole St. Agatha story explains so much! Including the being burned on hot coals thing as I am in my 5th week of radiation and that is exactly what my left breast feels like right now. (And I hate to shoot down the saline inplant theory but mine isn’t helping a bit in terms of dousing the flames!) Thanks so much for your blog, it gives me something to smile about every day and I really appreciate it.

  6. Feeling kinda stalkery as I’m looking forward to spending quality time with you today and tomorrow. I’m totally harmless, I swear. (Except for the Army training, but you’d have to be a bad guy for me to call that up…)

  7. I’ll have my husband check for lawn boobies when he goes out to mow today.

    Still keeping my fingers crossed for your tour to make it to Milwaukee!

  8. i must say that getting your boobs splayed out on a tray is much worse than having your ass handed to you on a platter. i mean really, much worse. though my boobs squashed one at a time between 2 cold slabs while having very uncomplimentary not even full blow tassels (those little dots with pins) placed on my nipples all while having some nurse bitch giggling with anticipation of the squash is pretty damn awful too.

  9. Well, there you go. Definitive proof that God is male. A woman with multiple serious problems, and what does he think is the most important one to lend a hand with? Her boobs. You’d think theologians would have picked up on that a long time ago.

  10. Awesome garden boobies!!! What a find. Hope they start springing up all over the place! Have fun in Maryland – and by the way, your tweet to Obama asking him out was stylish! Did he accept?

  11. We don’t get lawn BOOBIES, but we DO get lawn NIPPLES. (Florida)

    You are SO going to Hell. (See ya there!)

    Actually… I think you’ve made enough people piss their pants with laughter that it will be vindication to get you a pass into Heaven. Like an Artist’s Visa.

    Besides, God obviously has a sense of humor if he makes boobs and nipples grow in people’s yards.

  12. God obviously have sense of humor. Otherwise why would He create people like us? Or boob mushrooms? Plus, He put the bob in your lawn!

    I never got a boob mushroom, but maybe one day? Hey, hope never dies, right?

  13. I have the impression that being a saint was no fun at all. Think I will rather stick to my heathen ways.

  14. Swear to God I had several phallic mushrooms in my garden a day or two ago. Went out there just now with my camera to *show* you since it’s obviously related somehow but they were gone. Is there a Patron Saint of dicks or should I be consulting Freud on this one?

  15. I feel like more outdoor chores would get done if there were lawn boobies – and also that more people would become spiritual if all life was a search for boobies.

  16. HAH! Gaithersburg!! I grew up in Bowie (pronounced like buoy). We used to mock people in Gaithersburg, although I’m not really sure why now.

    Stay off 270 unless you’ve completed a living will first. People in the DC/MD/VA area drive like their eyes are put in backwards. Seriously, they’re MEAAAAN…

  17. If you were coming anywhere in my state, I’d be there. But, *sigh*, you’re not. 🙁
    Though I’ve never seen a lawn boobie, I’ve totally seen a lawn penis. Right next to the front door when my friend was hosting a party for all women. We all had a seriously good laugh that she made sure the men were represented somehow!

  18. I wish I got lawn boobies. And can’t wait to hang out in the Bloggess Building in heaven. You know, if I actually get there and all.

  19. Since mushrooms are only the fruiting body of the actual plant below ground, it may be advisable for you to bring in an excavating crew and carefully dig to see if the rest of the fungus looks anything like Saint Agatha.

    If it does, you got a fungal problem in your yard.

  20. Ohh, and Beautiful day today for you to be in Gaithersburg. Enjoy !!
    I would love to see you, meet you, but I am afraid that the adoring hordes will keep you unavailable to the commoners like me.
    You’re very much at risk of turning into a celebrity…..and we’ve seen what happened to Lohan and Spears and all…..you must be careful, Jen—
    I suggest you buy a burka and start wearing it everywhere you go.
    And stop all the writing——-it’s only going to make matters worse 🙂

  21. You know the real problem is proof that God’s male. I LIKE BOOBIES! BOOBIES FOR EVERYONE. Even the lawn apparently. And also, clearly St. Agatha is pissed. You want boobies?! I’ll give you boobies!

  22. Those are some hott mushroom boobies, very lifelike, only in my case the left one is bigger than the right one.

  23. OMG – if boobies can resurrect via lawn enhancement, there’s hope for some of us yet! Just a leetle more drinkin’ …uh, I mean prayin’…yeah, that’s what’s went awry. 2 much prayin’/not enough drinkin’….

  24. EEP! You’re 10 miles from me!!! Less actually! Heading out soon to see you!!! Bringing my twine!!! <3

  25. I wish I could get some boobie mushrooms for my salad. Then, maybe, I would eat more salad. And then I could be thin! Must hunt down boobie mushrooms….

  26. I used to live in Gaithersburg! Have a great time! (Go eat Mexican at Guapo’s in the Rio!) Anyways, I just wanted to share that I found Beyonce’s trashy cousin (check out that Tramp Stamp) after a run this morning… LOL! http://instagr.am/p/Kz2ERliBrm/

  27. Okay, so I also believed that a saint couldn’t have sex. But then, in college, I read a French writer (and no, I don’t remember who) whose grandmother had been a saint. And that writer was all full of self esteem issues, because how do you live up to a saint for a grandma? (I mean, her mom had it easy. If you’re the daughter of a saint, you slut it up, obviously. But the grandchild? Shit, that’s pressure!) Anyway, I was very proud of the fact that I was able to ask about the whole saints/sex thing entirely in French, since it was a French class. (Did I mention that?) If you’d like to know how to ask about saints and sex, here’s how:

    Mais, j’ai penser qu’on doit etre une vierge pour devenir une sainte.

    Because, let me tell you, this comes up ALL THE TIME when you go to Quebec.

  28. I’m here and excited to hear you speak! Honestly if I didn’t think you’d get freaked out I would have knocked over the 15 people between us to introduce myself at the VIP tent.

  29. My sister used to get penis mushrooms on her lawn. Never boobies, though.

  30. A whole building, huh? Like a 10 story taxidermist or what?

    Anyway, here is a Prayer to St Agatha, asking her intercession:

    You brought it up!

    “Saint Agatha, you suffered sexual assault and indignity because of your faith. Help heal all those who are survivors of sexual assault and protect those women who are in danger. Amen”

  31. Well, is it Agatha, or Agnes? You have them both written down. I know that I could go and look it up, but I’d rather be “holier than thou” and point out your flaws.

  32. I am still super pissed that I missed getting to see you when you came to Miami, and I’ve been staying away from your blog because each post is a reminder that I missed my chance! 🙁

  33. Ahhh I love you! I brought my 1 year old and instead of being his usual happy self he whined until we got up to see you so I barely had moments to blurt out what I wanted to say!! You signed my wedding dress strap! It means a lot to me. I told you you inspired me to get one. I’m getting married in june and was just going to shotgun it until reading about your red dress and thinking “I’ve always wanted to feel beautiful, just for a day” so I saved up 200 and got a knock off floofy princess dress! My fiancee thinks I’m crazy- no one else at our wedding will be dressed up but damnit I just want to wear a beautiful dress once in my life! Anywho. I’m painfully shy- I’m glad I didn’t talk myself out of coming, that would have been sad, even if I couldn’t get my voice to work right to say thank you from all the depressed-anxiety issued people out there who have to mentally prep for 3 days to go to a book signing!

    Again- love you much! You are fabulous!

  34. Beyonce has had babies, look

    You could put loads of these all over your lawn in between the boobies.

    There are hen ones too.

  35. OMG—-a police escort!! You were awesome today at the Book Festival. I wanted to say “hello” but the line was too long and I am too old. Did I mention the police escort? Never be in doubt that the people in the D.C. Metro area love you. Keep up the good work. A police escort??

  36. How awesome was it to meet you today? Jen Lancaster (one of the authors I took care of) said that the difference between the two of you is that her readers love her and hate each other…while your readers love you AND each other. You’ve brought us together into the most wonderfully crazy tribe. Proud to be a member.

  37. I wanted to come see you today, but the DC Metro is fucked beyond all belief and I would have spent over 2 hours going to a place that is only about 15 miles from my house. I’m so sorry. Come to DC proper (or a much closer-in suburb) and I promise to walk, bike, or hitchhike to your location.

  38. Or, you know, if it was a weekday evening, I could “slug” (organized hitchhiking) to your location, if it was in the deep ‘burbs. Just sayin’.

  39. I was there today and you are a celebrity!! I loved every minute.

  40. Had so much fun seeing you today! Loved the reading and thanks for signing my ceramic chicken. I wish I’d remembered to get a photo of your arm but I was too awed that I was standing next to you.

  41. The person who made your cupcakes should have made a mushroom flavored boobie-shaped one.

  42. my beyonce tattoo and I were there…it was AWESOME to see you, even if I was too awestruck to really speak to you, lol. you rock 🙂

  43. Listen… I’m no scholar or anything… but a nice pair of Jesus-issued titties will get you in a shit load of trouble in prision. God should know that. Smells like a set up to me.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

  44. Actually, some saints DID have sex. One of Jesus’ miracles was healing St. Peter’s mother-in-law. Meaning Pete had a wife. And presumably they didn’t have a celibate marriage just for a tax break, because the Romans’ idea of a tax break was “We _might_ not break all your bones if you give us all your money”. Upon being healed, Pete’s MIL, being a good Jewish mother, immediately got up and started cooking dinner for everybody. (“No, no trouble, don’t mind me, just almost died there, but you look thin, hasn’t that daughter of mine been feeding you, have some more matzoh…”)
    All this to say, St. Peter knew what boobies looked like. Unless his wife had also had hers cut off and she didn’t get them miraculously re-grown. In which case it TOTALLY makes sense that Pete was all “I don’t know the guy” three times during Jesus’ trial. I’d be PO’d and disinclined to stand up for my friend too, if he was giving blind people their eyes back, dead people their lives back, but wouldn’t give my wife her boobs back.

    Seriously though, Simon (a.k.a. Peter) had a mother-in-law who was healed by Jesus – see Mark 1:30 if you don’t believe me. How the Catholics got the idea that priests should be celibate, even though the first Pope was getting some, is beyond me…

  45. Funny, when *I* carry a tray of boobies around, I get arrested and they grill me asking where the body is, but if you’re a SAINT. No, a LADY saint, you can carry around a tray of boobies ALL DAY LONG and no one says anything.

    I guess they just assume they’re YOUR boobies and there’s no bodies anywhere.

    Seriously, they’re on a silver tray? How deceptive. At the very least, I’d assume them to be made of marzipan.

  46. Acckkk!
    What the? Puts pink ribbons in a whole new light, right? And being a Saint is like totally really hard.
    Somewhere someone just said, “that’s what she said!”….. I’m a little punchy, can you tell 😀

    Not that anyone really cares but I’m also really like totally FUCKING BUMMED!!! My luck like gag me with some utensil totally sucks ((ok not as bad as our Saint Lady =/- boobies)) BUT I, like the hoards of many, have become a huge fan and think YOU are fucking awesome and cool and funny and shit…. AND you were like freakin’ less than 90miles away from my house on Saturday BUT my day was riddled with responsibilities and chores and shit and there was no way to squeeze the roadtrip to Gaithersburg in (((although I thought about it all day – another reason having one’s own plane or a good broom or cape would come in super handy))) And then again today – you were in freakin’ Annapolis slightly less than a cool 2hrs from home AND even worse – like you wouldn’t even believe it but my husband and I had to drive to BWI which would be the Baltimore Washington International Airport which is minutes literally MINUTES from Annapolis to pick up my step-daughter and her baby-daddy 😮 @ approx. NOON but the thingy where you were going to be wasn’t starting til 2pm and I couldn’t for the life of me come up with any ?reasonable? thing to explain to them why we needed NEEDED (not wanted) to waste 2 hours in the Baltimore area to SEE you in person and get my book signed. sigh. Sometimes doing the right thing REALLY REALLY SUCKS!! So, yes meeting YOU the BLOGGESS was just beyond my reality – so close and yet so far away. I even told Bill to keep an eye out as we might pass you on the highway – like ships in the night but not really. Anyway, again I’m punchy – and sooooo very sad to have missed the opportunity ((((although again I said to Bill “it’s not like I’d know what to say to her anyway – I’d just get a too tight smile and say something inane while my hands sweated..”))) to have met you and had you sign my very own copy of your book. Sure you don’t wanna stop in PA? I have wine and cats >^.^<

  47. I wonder if this blog post came before or after your Sexis trip to Japan where you came across those edible boob-flour dumplings? Maybe that’s why St Agatha was carrying her breasts on a cake tray…

  48. I just read this: “The shape of her amputated breasts, especially as depicted in artistic renderings, gave rise to her attribution as the patron saint of bell-founders and as the patron saint of bakers, whose loaves were blessed at her feast day. More recently, she has been venerated as patron saint of breast cancer patients.”
    That’s kind of messed up. Hmm..so whatever shape her boobs look like – that is what she is the patron saint of (bells/bakers??). Perhaps we can now declare her the patron saint of lawn mushrooms?

  49. READ BETWEEN THE LINES PEOPLE!!! GAAAAHH! This is the oldest trick in the book. She was actually carrying a plate of boobs that had just been ‘removed’ from some poor dungeon-victim and was caught in the hallway by someone who WASN’T insane, and she was all like…”uhm, nobody’s! I mean…they’re MINE! I mean…they WERE mine, but… they…grew BACK! Yeah. That’s it. It’s a Goddamn miracle is what it is!”

  50. Have you ever considered a part-time job? Because you should really be a Sunday School teacher. Sure, it probably doesn’t pay very much (or anything?), but really you’d be doing our youth a disservice by not teaching them about boob-tray saints and the like. Where else are they going to get that kind of information?

  51. I totally found penis mushroom while raking out the bush at my son’s preschool. yes seriously. Did I take a picture? of course! can I find it.. nope!

  52. Peter had sex. Paul didn’t much approve. He objected to the expense of Peter taking his wife with him when he traveled.

  53. I’m pretty sure this is more evidence for those folks that insist that God is a man. All that shit going on and what does God focus on? Boobies. So typical!

  54. Any mention or documentation of lawn boobs totally rocks. The fact that you could turn it into a full-fledged funny post just speak to your genius. Thank God for lawns and boobs and the Bloggess! – Check out Venus Blogs when you have time. I think you’ll really love it. They are witty and talk about boobs and vagina over there too: http://venusblogs.com/oh-its-my-v/ – 🙂

  55. The goddess Katyayani is honored on the sixth day of Navratri. She was Katyan’s daughter. The Mahishasurmardini is a popular name for the goddess Katyayani. She is the goddess of wisdom and harmony. The four-handed riding of Maa Katyayani. She alights a lion. The lotus and mudra are held in the hands. This variety of maa is extremely aggressive and vicious.

    https://healthylifehuman.com/sixth-day-of-navratri/

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