MY INSTAGRAMLife hack: If you have rheumatoid arthritis it can hurt to get massages so I don’t get them, but lots of nail salons offer hot paraffin baggies for your feet and hot, wet towels to wrap around your legs and it’s almost as relaxing as a real massage. And much cheaper. Also, I don’t have to take off my bra. Win.Hello clouds.Total shot in the dark but my dog chewed a hole in my mom’s comforter (DOGS) but my mom won’t let me replace it with a new set because she’s too nice and also because this is the same set from when I was a kid and she’s attached to it. So I’m looking to see if any place still carries it so I can replace it with the same one but I have no tags or any info except that it was a full set with pillows and dust ruffle from probably the late 80’s. On the off-chance it’s still being made and you know where please let me know. So ends the most insane quest of the day.
You Searched For: necrophilia
I’ve been doing interviews for the book release and I’m never prepared for the questions in spite of the fact that the questions are mainly about me, but in my defense I find myself a bit tedious (that bitch is everywhere – it’s like she’s stalking me) so I’m not usually paying attention to what I’m doing. But this week I’ve had several reporters all start with the question, “Is blogging dead?” and I’ve finally started answering with “Well if it is that makes me one hell of a necrophiliac because I’m still doing it WITH ZEST”. But then I started wondering if when these articles come out they’re just going to say: “Jenny Lawson, total weirdo, recently came out as an ardent necrophiliac. ‘I DO IT WITH ZEST’ she confessed in a recent interview.” So that’s why I’m coming out right now to say that I am NOT a fan of necrophilia for myself or for anyone else. That is my official statement. The end.
Except I guess it’s not really the end because now that I’ve brought up the question of whether blogging is dead I’m probably expected to flesh it out. Except that readers here know I never flesh anything out properly so I suppose I’m off the hook. Which is exactly what blogging is all about. It’s about writing whatever crazy shit you want to write and having some people say “YES! I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE” and some say “What the shit is wrong with you?” and 99.99% of the world say nothing because they don’t know I exist. And that is blogging. And in that way it’s the same blogging that existed when I started blogging 9 years ago. There are some changes, of course. In the last 9 years some amazing bloggers have decided not to blog anymore. And sometimes they come back and sometimes they don’t and sometimes they’re replaced by other amazing bloggers who write hysterical or moving or entertaining fluffy things. And that’s a very good thing.
The only thing that’s dead is the possibility of making a million bucks on blogging, which honestly never existed as an attainable goal for any of us in the first place. If you’re blogging to make a million dollars you should probably switch to something more lucrative, like…I dunno…making a sex tape. But not with a dead person. I’ve been very clear on this, y’all.
But here’s the great thing about realizing that making a mint in blogging isn’t really feasible or worthwhile…now you’re free to write whatever the shit you want to write without having to worry about brands and advertisers and alienating angry, easily-offended people who are actually really fun to alienate. And that’s why we all got into writing in the first place, right? Just me? You know what? It might be just be me. And that’s fine because every single writer writes for their own specific reason. Some of us write for a living. Some of us write for fun. Some of us write because we have no other choice because writers write always and if they aren’t blogging they’re writing a book or a journal or (if you’re anything like me) scrawling ideas of things you’re afraid you’ll forget on your arm until you can get home and jot it all down. That is what writing is about, and blogging is just one iteration of writing. Writing never dies. And thank fucking God for that.
PS. I’m incredibly lucky in that this blog is sponsored almost entirely from the awesome people in my sidebar who support my writing. They are fantastic and because of them I don’t have to inflate page views by creating annoying slideshows or unneeded page breaks or have to rent out my blog for other people’s voices or other bullshit I’m honestly far too irresponsible to do anyway. If you appreciate this then go click on them and check them out. They are fantastic and interesting and lovely and proof that the question “Is blogging dead?” isn’t really a question worth asking.
PPS. It would be nice if this question brought attention to great bloggers instead of making bloggers question what they’re doing so if you have a blogger that you love that you think needs attention, share them in the comments. There’s always room for great voices.
PPPS. I don’t have a good image for this post but this is my blog so I can post whatever picture I want. So here’s a picture of my cat’s butthole:
PPPPS. Spellcheck is trying to tell me I can’t use the word “butthole” and that I should change it to “buttonhole”. Fuck you, spellcheck. This is exactly the kind of shit I don’t have to put up with.
PPPPPS. Except I just remembered that my grandparents read this blog and so I’m including another picture of Hunter S. Thomcat with less genitals. This is for you, granny and papaw. Love you.
So last week I drove 8 hours to my old hometown for my aunt’s funeral and then turned around and drove 8 hours back the next morning but it wasn’t too bad because first of all, I got to see my family. Secondly, I got this dead bobcat thingie. And third, during the viewing I was trying really hard to not look at the body because whenever I’m in the room with a dead person all I can think is that there’s a dead person in the room with me and I think the only people who aren’t constantly thinking that are probably psychopaths so I try to distract everyone who isn’t a psychopath by talking loudly and cheerfully and I’m so focused on not saying “There’s a dead body in here with us” that I end up not really paying attention to what I’m really saying and that’s probably why this happened: So I’m standing at the entrance of the dead body room with my grandparents, my uncle and my dad and my granny starts talking about she doesn’t read this blog because it’s too vagina-y and she prefers my mommy blog and then my dad tells her that he had the same problem reading my sex column at first but that the trick is that he just pretends that it’s not his daughter writing it and then he’s fine, but otherwise he’d spend the whole rest of the day trying to rationalize why his daughter now works in the sex industry and I’m all “It’s weird, right? I think technically I’m considered an official sex-worker now.” and right as I said that one of the older relatives walks in the door and looks at me kind of shocked and I’m all “Well, that was probably not appropriate” and my dad just kind of shrugged and stared off into space and I think maybe he was pretending I wasn’t his daughter again and it seemed to be working so hopefully granny was taking notes.
BUT…the bad part of the trip was that I got a ticket for speeding and when the trooper pulled me over I was all “Would it make a difference if told you I was on my way to a funeral?” and he’s all “And 5:00 at night?” and I’m like “Well, technically it’s the ‘viewing’, but that counts, right?” and he’s all “No. That wouldn’t make a difference” and he said it in this kind of rude way like he was thinking “She’s not getting any deader” which was inappropriate and also debatable and it kind of pissed me off especially since I’d been going like 130 on the highway and if I’d gotten stopped there I would have been all “Well, I totally deserved that ticket” but when this guy turned on his cop lights I thought I was going the speed limit and in fact, I was so far ahead of him that I totally could have outrun him if I wanted to but I thought that maybe there was an accident ahead and that’s why I pulled over to let him pass me because I’m a Good Samaritan AND THEN HE PULLS UP BEHIND ME TO PUNISH ME FOR BEING HELPFUL. And then I told him all of this and he just gave me this blank stare and I’m all “And that’s why you shouldn’t give me a ticket. Because I didn’t even know I was speeding. NO ONE’S LEARNING ANYTHING HERE”. And then he still gave me a ticket. Except I think really the reason he gave me a ticket is that when he caught me speeding I was also taking a picture with my phone outside of the car window because I was going to put it on my blog to show you all what West Texas looks like and I think he thought that was unsafe but technically he couldn’t ticket me for that because we live in Texas and that’s how we roll. Last month I was in California and my sister was driving and she wouldn’t answer her phone and I’m all “Stalker?” and she’s like “No. I just can’t pick up the phone while I’m driving” and I’m all “Really? You must be a terrible driver” and she’s like “No…I mean I’m not allowed to” and I’m all “What, like you’re grounded?!” and turns out that THE ENTIRE STATE OF CALIFORNIA IS GROUNDED. Seriously, they can’t pick up their phones in the car. That is fucked up. In Texas we can buy booze and ammunition in the drive-thru and my sister isn’t allowed to use a fucking phone. And I didn’t even ask why she didn’t have gun rack mounted in back window of her car because I assume shooting a rifle out of your car window is probably illegal there too but I guess that doesn’t matter to them because I didn’t see any deer in San Diego although I did see a huge ocean and it would be pretty awesome to spear-fish out your car window while you were driving by the pier except I guess your passenger would have to do it instead of the driver because apparently California is owned by communists. Also, I was going to video blog this whole post while driving in my car just to prove a point to California but the only good video camera I have is the one mounted in my computer monitor and Victor won’t haul it out to the car for me because I think he’s still mad about the ticket which is going to be like $300. I considered asking each of you to send me a dollar for looking at the picture I was taking for you when I got busted but then I figured it wasn’t worth the trouble to open 300 envelopes because I’m really lazy. But I’m still going to show you the picture for free because I’m a very generous person. Unlike the Texas Highway Patrol. Who doesn’t care about dead people. Apparently.
PS. I don’t know why they call it “the viewing” because you get to view the body again at the funeral. It’s more like the dead body preview. When I die if I have a dead body preview I’d prefer it if they left my eyes open because I’ve seen pictures of me sleeping and I’m a really ugly sleeper. Seriously, it’s a look I can’t pull off. Also, I’d like it if one of my eyebrows was raised as if to say “Well, I’m surprised to see you here” and the person previewing my body would read whatever they wanted into it. Like, if they were all “Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t miss your funeral for the world” then you’d know that they liked me but if they got all defensive it’s probably because they were saying something bad about me in the parking lot. It would be a good test to see who deserves to be in my will. Except if I died right now I’d basically owe $300 so I think I’d just send a bill to the person who was the most defensive. Also I’d bill them for the funeral and they’d probably feel better right after that because it would help assuage their guilt. That way, even in death I’m helpful.
Updated: I know that traditionally there is only one comment of the day but I couldn’t choose because these all made me feel better and technically I often forget to do the comment of the day so I think this makes up for that. Also, I’m still in mourning so I think I’m allowed to do whatever I want for another week.
Comment(s) of the day:
Dead body preview in itself a spoiler for the funeral. ~
At my grandmother’s funeral, the mortician kept hanging around us, nodding to my grandmother and saying, “She looks good, doesn’t she?” And we were all like, “Uh, NO, she’s freakin’ dead,” but we smiled and nodded to the guy anyway to make him go away. Anyway, while my wife and I were getting a breath of fresh air on the funeral home’s front porch, my buddy Bob arrived and while we were chatting, we told him the story about the overly friendly mortician. Bob’s response? “Next time he says that, you should grab him by the lapels, shove him up against the casket and shout, ‘You f#cked her, didn’t you?! Didn’t you?!!’” Ever since then, I can’t go to a wake without laughing my butt off. Which can be awkward, especially when everyone wants to know what you’re giggling over, and most people don’t think necrophilia is all that funny. Not that I do, but you know, in context and all …R in CT
Can’t talk and drive in WA either, except it’s only a secondary offense so they have to catch me doing something else before they can ticket me for it. But texting while driving is a primary offense, but I figure it only applies to those who are bad at it so I’m in the clear. ~ KatjaMichelle
So the other day my boyfriend and I were driving past this funeral home, and I just start laughing and I’m like “When I die, I totally don’t want to go that whole casket route. I think I’d rather be sitting up in a chair like greeting people as they come in!” Eventually we decided I should also be wearing sunglasses and then maybe hook up some animatronics so that I could look like I was playing my cello, with the stipulation that they have a Yo-Yo Ma track, or some equally awesome cellist playing the background. I mean if people are going to remember me playing the cello they should at least also believe I kick-ass at it. ~ GhtoPrincess
My crazy mother hates it when people look at her, so she made us promise to either have the casket closed OR put her favorite t-shirt on her . The t-shirt says “What the hell are you looking at?” And on the back, which of course wouldn’t matter, unless they come up with some sort of rotisserie casket option, it says, “Stop following me asshole.” My mom is the bomb. ~ D
True story- my dad was speaking to my mother in law at my father in laws funeral and said “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” He felt like shit afterwards even though no one really liked my FIL anyway ~ tena
Viewings are icky but cremations aren’t all that great either. I accidentally spilled some of my mom’s ashes and then had to vacuum up my mom. We’ve moved twice and I’m kinda tired of lugging this vacuum bag around that I can’t throw away since it has some of my mom in it. ~ Rikki
I was at a party tonight and I was talking to my friend Marc Nathan (who I called Nathan Marc for like a year because he has two first names and also because I only see him when I’ve been drinking) and he mentioned that he was supposed to be at a funeral but bailed and I’m all “Who has a funeral at 8 o’clock at night?” and he said that it was actually the viewing except he couldn’t think of the word for the viewing so I was all “O-o-oh, the dead guy display.” And then I starting talking about how I bet some of the people who do the dead guy displays are real designers just like the people who do window displays except the corpse displayers never get to break out of the box and I wonder if there’s like a totally chic corpse displayer who is all “You know what this dead guy needs? Some fucking glitter. And some tinsel and the words ‘Bad Ass’ in graffiti font on his coffin.” And then he’d snap his fingers and be all “Work it, girl! This dead bitch is fierce!” Also I think the corpse designer’s gay. In my head. And then I was all “Oh fuck, Marc. I’m sorry. I’m going on about corpse displays and your friend is dead.” and there was this awkward pause and I decided to fill it with ” Can we go see him?” because there’s something wrong with me. And then Marc was all “My grandfather?!” and I’m all “Holy shit! Your grampa is dead?! Oh my God, I suck.” but then he said he was just kidding and that the funeral was actually for the guy who invented the weed wacker. True story. Then later I told someone else that they should pour honey all over dead people because it’s pretty and it’s a good preservative and then she was all “And everyone could take home a jar of corpse honey as a souvenir”. It was pretty much the best party ever.
PS. I’d like to apologize to everyone at that party. Especially to the guy who asked “You know the very best way to watch football?” and I’m all “To have the whole stadium demolished and then afterward they firebomb it and bulldoze the ashes and then they never, ever rebuild it?” That was mostly uncalled for.
Long-ass Comment of the day: So I really feel like I have to set the record straight on this one:
First of all, I started the conversation by saying, “You must really be comfortable, since you’re not wearing your wig” and she says “I didn’t have time to go home and pick it up”. Now this embarrasses me for two reasons 1) I basically just asked Bruce Wayne where his Batman mask was – essentially outing Jenny as her alter ego @thebloggess and 2) because I made her laugh during the speech part of the party last night.
On a down note, the gentleman who passed away was Spencer Stone, a truly great man – a philanthropist and investor who I met earlier this year. He was not the inventor of the Weed Wacker, but the VP of marketing for Weed Eater who made it a household name. He was an overall awesome person in every way – with enough of a sense of humor that I hope he doesn’t haunt me (with any part of his anatomy) for not attending his corpse display.
This is just a sample of some of the topics of our conversation:
Jenny: “Can we all go see the body?”
Marc (Nathan): “No”
J: “I read this book that my sister told me not to read about necrophilia, it’s gross but I couldn’t put it down”
M: “um, OK.”
J: “My husband is real, not just some dry, made up fictional character who is out to foil my plots and squash my dreams even though it might sound that way”
M: “He must be so happy to hear that”
J: “Child rape – not cool”
M: “No kidding”
M: “Childrens Charities are a big waste – even though the event was sponsored by a really good childrens charity”
J: “My child is in a closet right now, but she’s safe since she’s with the cat”
These things were actually said, out loud and in public with witnesses, but not once did it get awkward or weird. You should also know that I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach towards the end of the conversation when I noticed the ‘I’m totally going to blog this gleam’ in Jenny’s eye. That’s why it’s taken me so long to respond to this post because my hand was shaking with trepidation to click on the link. It’s nice to know that while I may have been shocked today, I certainly wasn’t disappointed. Lastly, ‘Corpse Honey’ will be my first pick if I ever have to name a Scandinavian Death Metal Band, a Roller Derby Girl Nickname, or a pony. ~ Marc Nathan (aka Nathan Marc)