From the category archives:

Posts that will get me hate mail

Conversation I had with Victor on the way home:

me:  Yeah.  Because there’s nothing more helpful than God in a three-way.

Victor:  WHAT?

me:  That church sign we just drove past.  It encouraged people to pull God in on a three-way when they’re in trouble.

Victor:  I’m almost positive it didn’t say that.

me:   Well, it implied it.  It said: “WHEN TROUBLE CALLS, CALL ON GOD.”  And you can’t call God while you’re still on the phone with trouble…unless you call him on a three-way.  Or unless you’re at work and you schedule a conference call.  Or if use Skype or something.

Victor:  I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take those signs quite that literally.

me: Of course not.  Because God isn’t in the phone book.  The three-way is implied.  Or…hypothetical.  They should have just written “Have an imaginary three-way with God.”

Victor:  No one should ever write that.

me: Oh, because people get upset if you say “imaginary” and “God” in the same sentence?  So instead you’d have to say “Have faith in three-ways with God.”

Victor:  No.  Because you’re not supposed to say “three-ways” and “God” in the same sentence.  We’re going to hell just for having this conversation.

me:  If God wasn’t unlisted I’d call Him and explain that I’m referring to conference calls.

Victor:  I’m sure He’s eavesdropping.  You’re probably fine.

me:  ”Have faith that God is okay with you talking about three-ways.”  That’s what my church sign would say.

Victor:  I’d probably go to that church.

me:  Who wouldn’t?

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me:  I bet the little mermaid got crazy fat after she got married.

Victor:  Why?

me:  Because all she could eat when she was a mermaid was raw kelp and there’s practically no calories in kelp.

Victor:  She lived in the ocean.  She ate fish.

me: SHE WAS FRIENDS WITH FISH.  She talked to every living thing there was.  Even seagulls.  She couldn’t even eat seagulls.  I bet she was fucking starving.  Have you seen her waist?  That’s not normal.  It looks like she’s had ribs removed.

Victor:  Huh.

me: And then she suddenly becomes human and stops swimming – so she’s not getting any cardio – and then she discovers cheese.  And bacon.  And cheesy bacon.  OMG, I want cheesy bacon.

Victor: You’ve thought about this way too much.

me:  If I was the little mermaid I’d get so fat.

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In unrelated news, it’s time for the weekly wrap up.

What you missed in my shop (tentatively called “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

What you missed on the internets:

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

This week’s round-up sponsored by The Dumb White Husband’s Guide to Babies.   Children are amazing and their limitless capacity for love is matched only by their ability to make you feel like an idiot. But you’re not alone.  Dumb White Husband vs. Babies tackles the subjects that other baby books ignore.

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Below is an actual email conversation between me and PETA.  (FYI:  This happened over a year ago and I was going to put it in my book as an addendum to my pets-eaten-by-hobos chapter but it was too long, so if you bought my book just consider this a bonus chapter.  Also, if you haven’t read my book yet you probably should because this is going to have a mild spoiler alert.  You can buy it here.)  

From: David (from PETA.org)

Date: April 12, 2011

Good morning.

I wanted to share some information that I hope you will want to pass on to your readers as Easter approaches. Each year, PETA receives scores of calls of concern about the use of live animals—mainly rabbits, but sometimes ducklings and chicks—as props in Easter photo sessions. Unsuspecting parents and kids might not realize it, but the animals used in these photo sessions are generally terrified and miserable.

It’s a sad fact that many of the rabbits purchased on a whim during Easter time die within months—victims of unintentional neglect and cruelty. Others are abandoned, relegated to tiny outdoor hutches and subjected to weather extremes, dumped at overburdened shelters, or abandoned outdoors, where they are unable to fend for themselves and starve or are killed by predators… …Would you please share this information with your readers? Please let me know if you have any questions.

Best regards,

David

****

From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

When I was little I got a duck from the carnival and he was awesome.  His name was Daffodil and he lived in an inflatable raft in the backyard with the cats.  He was very happy.  But then my mom decided he’d be happier with other ducks because he started to think he was a cat, so we let him go at the lake and then a month later all the ducks were eaten by homeless people who lived under the bridge.  This is all true.  I think the real problem here is the homeless problem.  And by “homeless problem” I mean the problem I have with homeless people eating my pets.

Hugs,

Jenny

Enclosed: A girl and her duck enjoying the sunset on their back porch.  Those were golden days, David.

Me and Daffodil. Or as the homeless probably refer to him...Dinner for Six.

****

From: David  from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

That’s quite a remarkable story, Jenny!  A few years ago, while with a group helping to hand out food to homeless people outside of a shelter, I found a number of them to be quite kind to a pigeon who showed up with an injured wing.  They were also impressed that I had the little guy (gal?) on my shoulder for a bit while I tried to figure out the next step.

****

 From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

You’re lucky you didn’t lose an arm because based on *my* experience with Daffodil the “next step” would be the helpful homeless people making a big pigeon cake.  Or pigeon sandwich.  I don’t actually know how you cook pigeon, David.  But what I do know is that homeless people are very sweet until they see your pet duck and then they’re like a bunch of damn zombies.  (I assume.)  My mother says this is an unfair generalization and she encouraged me to go volunteer at a homeless shelter when I lived in Houston, and the people there were all very nice (except for one schizophrenic guy who had some sort of aversion to wearing pants) but that doesn’t mean I would trust any of them with my wounded pigeon.

PS.  I wanted to ask how your pigeon fared but since you didn’t mention naming him I’m assuming that he must’ve been eaten.  I once had a live chicken hang out on my shoulder for an entire afternoon so I totally relate to your pigeon story.  Her name was Schmalzie Nugget and she was a total bad-ass.  Also, she was super heavy so when she finally decided to jump off my shoulder I looked like I had scoliosis.  Whenever anyone else would get near us she would peck at their face violently.  Her owner tried to apologize and said it was because she was mostly blind and probably thought their earrings were bugs to eat, but I didn’t judge her because any pet chicken who fights off being eaten by homeless people long enough to go blind is a goddam hero.  She was like the Chuck Norris of chickens.

PPS.  Here’s a picture of me with Schmalzie:

It’s a camera phone picture.  We’re not normally that fuzzy in real life.

****

From: David from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

Apparently, our homeless guests were satisfied enough with the vegan food that we had bestowed upon them!  There was at least one other time when I was out when I came upon a bird in need.  Very strange.  (And several other cases when I rescued some, including a seagull who was in the median at the top of a fairly busy bridge near our headquarters.  I chased that one across the oncoming-traffic lane below the top, wondering if I wouldn’t get hit in five seconds.  I did capture the poor thing and we went to a wildlife rehabber’s place.)  That other time, someone discovered a baby at the bottom of the building that we were in front of. We figured there was a nest up above outside of one of the windows.  Who knows!

I took those all to wildlife rehabbers or some such people.

****

From: Jenny Lawson

Date: April 12, 2011

I tried eating all vegan once and I literally thought I was going to die by the 5th day.  That’s the one where you can’t eat anything but air and boiled cabbage, except on Friday when you can have a banana, right?  That is a harrowing diet.  Those homeless people were probably just too weak from hunger to go after even a wounded bird.  Weak and gassy.  That’s a terrible combination.

But ignoring all that, did you say that someone discovered *a baby* at the bottom of the building you were in front of?  Because that is insane and you should lead with that story.  Were you in front of a convent in the 1960′s?  Because if so, that sounds like an awesome made-for-tv-movie that should star Valerie Bertinelli and I want to hear more.

PS.  My husband just informed me that I’ve mistaken the apparently-totally-healthy vegan diet with the rather-dangerous-and-somewhat-stupid cabbage soup diet.  I should probably just erase that whole first paragraph but I’m leaving it just in case you’ve been considering going on the cabbage soup diet.  Avoid the cabbage soup, David.  You will never stop farting.

****

From: David  from peta.org

Date: April 12, 2011

Ooh–by “baby,” I was still writing in the context of the aviary world!

I’ve not done much exploration with cabbage.  It sounds like I should keep from doing so.  I actually just had a dinner of nachos–much tastier than air! 

~David

At this point I decided to make David my new best friend for being so awesome and asked him if he’d be okay with all of this appearing in my book.  He never responded again.  Probably because he was eaten by homeless people.  It happens way more than you think.  Also, I donate (non-duck) supplies to the homeless and am a card-carrying member of PETA so please don’t yell at me.  Except technically instead of sending me a card they always send me magazines, but no one understands you when you say you’re a “magazine-carrying member of PETA.”  That sounds fucking ridiculous.  

In short, I support homeless people, ducks and their right to eat each other.  I understand the circle of life.  Just not when it involves my Daffodil.

Daffodil Duckling in happier times. He owned the only pool on our block and you can totally see it in his smile.

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I was on CNN today for some reason to talk about politics and parenting (which is sort of weird since I’m more of a bizarre humorist at best) but I still managed to mention the zombie apocalypse, the possible robot revolution, and the threat of the internet becoming self-aware.

Here’s the clip:

PS.  If you’re new here and want to leave angry comments about me you can, but keep in mind that you’re choosing to fight with a woman who has no real political convictions and has a full zombie apocalypse platform, so basically you’re wasting both of our time and should probably go focus on yelling about something less ridiculous than me.

PPS.  Thank you, CNN.  I appreciate your good humor.  And your not suing me.

PPPS.  As requested.  Perfect for baby showers.

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My friend April from Regretsy practically threatened to stab me in the face when she thought I’d outbid her on this insane taxidermied squirrel who is flashing his little squirrel nut-sack at the world.  (Click the link.  You need to see this shit.)  I assured April that she was very off-base, as we were BOTH being outbid on it.  I considered telling her we should pool our resources and just share the squirrel like recently divorced parents, but then I saw this little treasure:

Well, hello there.

And yes, at first I saw what you’re probably seeing….a strangely posed, non-nutsacked, extremely dead squirrel in a very unnatural position.  And then I looked  a little closer and realized that my current cell phone cover is cracked and that this would make a fucking fantastic replacement.  Not just because it would be fuzzyy and ergonomic if I need to hold it against my shoulder, but also because it would hardly ever get lost in my purse, and no one would accidentally pick up my phone thinking it was theirs.  Plus, when I put my phone on the table at restaurants it would just look like a squirrel was hanging out with me, and squirrels only hang out with cool people.  And if I put my phone on vibrate the squirrel would buzz across the table like he was alive and growling.

It’s like the best accessory ever.

me, on my squirrel phone

PS.  I probably should have waited until the bidding was over before I posted about this.  Damn it, Jenny.

PPS.  If you only check my blog once a day you may have missed it yesterday when I promised Simon Pegg that I’d leave Nathan Fillion alone and then my good karma was reward by Wil Wheaton and Jeri Ryan and the whole world sending me pictures of their spatulas.

Just your typical Monday, really.

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