Category Archives: weekly reruns

I don’t drink babies.

So I was in the drug store waiting for a prescription when this woman asked me, “You drink the baby?”  And I was like, “I don’t drink babies,” but I didn’t say that out loud because it seemed like English wasn’t her first language and I was probably misunderstanding her, but then she repeated herself and I was forced to tell a stranger that I don’t personally drink babies.

But then she held up this package that had a lady enthusiastically sipping on a baby through a crazy straw and I was like, “Well.  Now I understand your confusion.”

Well that’s…something.

And so I told her, “I think maybe it’s just for sucking the snot out of sick babies?” and she looked appalled and said, “You just want to suck out their snot?” and I was like, “Lady, I don’t want to suck anything out of babies.  I don’t even siphon gas from other cars,” and she looked even more confused and the pharmacist looked over at us and I was overdosing on awkward so I ran away and that’s why I need someone else to go pick up my pills for me, and it’s exactly why I don’t like to leave the house.

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Liz, who failed out of seminary for using the word “fuck” too much, and the word “God” way too little.  And for writing “pigeon-rat” in the margins of her sermons, even though she had a really, really good reason.  If you are craving the spirituality of religion, but with fabulous vagina parables, check out LizJamesWrites.com.  There, you will also find the ABSOLUTE. GREATEST. CHRISTMAS DILDO STORY.  OF ALL. TIME. 

 

Day seven. TRAGEDY STRIKES.

Victor is still in Japan so life is still weird and I’m continuing to share my daily journey with him on instagram.

Quick flashback to three days ago if you have been dunk since then (no judgement):

Today the shop selling the golden chicken was open so I decided to see much it was even though Victor was not entirely supportive.  And then this happened:

Day 7: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on

So then I rushed in to find out who had sawed off Lindsay LoHen’s shackled foot to steal her away in the night but turns out that SOMEONE BOUGHT HER.  And apparently several people had been fighting over her because the shop lady was like, “Wait.  Were you the woman who was going to paint the paint the chicken black and put it at the end of her street so you could tell people to turn left at the beautiful giant black c0ck?” and I was like, “No.  But now I’m pretty sure my sister is in town and bought Lindsay LoHen.”  Long story short, no golden chicken for me.  Unless Victor bought her as a surprise and is picking her up on the way home.  Which seems unlikely.

Insert sad trombone noise here.

BUT the shop lady said that she could order another one, however there can be only one Lindsay LoHen so I asked if there were any other giant metal things…like maybe a trex?  She’s looking into it.  There is always hope, y’all.

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Treehut.co, which is the perfect way to give a sentimental gift without trying at all. Treehut.co is a California based company making unique and engravable wooden watches to show either your love or your hate. IT IS UP TO YOU.  So when you forget an anniversary or need a great gift for your graduation nephew in a hurry, Treehut.co is a fantastic option that will make you look thoughtful even though we all know you just forget.  You should check them out here, especially because they have a good sale on now.

 

What’s my name again?

I consider myself very lucky that my brand of crazy is recognized so universally that my books have been translated into lots of different languages, and that means I have a whole shelf full of books that I wrote but can’t read a single word of.  It’s a weird mix of feeling very accomplished and also completely stupid at the same time.

I just got this copy, which I think is Ukranian (or Bulgarian, maybe?) and the cover is awesome but which of those words is my name?  It’s a riddle I cannot solve.  If you speak Ukrania (or Bulgarian?) can you help me out?

Help?

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on

 

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Myawesomebeauty.com. A little bit about them: My Awesome Beauty is a website run by beauty addicts that have real experience in the beauty business (formulator, esthetician, beauty advisor etc.) where you will learn how to choose the cosmetics or beauty devices worth your money following specific criteria. The guides and reviews really help because they explain what to look for and what to check, such as the guide about the facial steamers or the guide on microdermabrasion machines for home use.” You should check them out here.

 

I don’t even know if vaseline is edible.

Last week when we were driving I was singing along to Madonna’s Into the Groove and I was like, “You can dance, perspiration” and Victor was like, “Are you kidding me?  It’s ‘You can dance…for inspiration” but I was pretty sure mine was right because you’re way more likely to produce sweat than inspiration, but when I checked Victor had apparently already hacked into the internet and changed the lyrics. This happens almost once a day but the most recent account was when I saw singing along to Pour Some Sugar on Me on a bus and Victor just stared at me in awe, probably because he was so proud that I was blessing people on the bus with my lovely voice, but then he was like, “Are your ears just broken?  Are you fucking these songs up on purpose?”  (Answers: Yes, No.)

And a few of the lines I realized were suspect because “You got the peaches, I got a cream…sweet to taste. Vaseline” sounds not right but I was pretty sure I nailed the rest of it but turns out I had almost every line wrong.

Also, I’ve seen Def Leppard in concert and loudly sang this song with a crowd.  Awesome.

PS. In case you’re wondering, below are the real words to the song as far as I’m concerned because I’ve been singing them wrong for too long and now have no way to unlearn them:

Yellow’s like a bomb!

Loving tiger balm, baby come and get it on,
Living like a lover in a red eye phone.
Lookin’ like a champ, like bitty old vamp,
Demo-licious woman, can I be a man?

Razzle in your dazzle and a dance in daily life,
Television lover baby, go all night.
Sun time, anytime, sugar be sweet.
Little Mrs. innocent, sugar me.

So come on. Take your body, and shake it off.
Break the Bible. Break it up.

Pour some sugar on me, in the name of love.
Pour some sugar on me. Come on, fight me up.
Pour your sugar on me. I can’t get enough.
I’m a hot, sticky Swede. From my hand to my feets, yeah.

Listen! Red light, yellow light, green light, gold,
Crazy leather woman in a one man show.
Marrow queen, many keen, rhythm of  her love.
Sweet dreams, sangarine, listen up. Yeah. Listen up.

You gotta squeeze a little, please a little, tease a little love,
Easy operator, never knocking on my door.
Sun time, andy time, sugar be sweet,
Little Mrs. Innocent, sugar me. Yeah oh. Give a little love.

CHORUS

You got the peaches,
I got a cream.
Sweet to taste. Vaseline!
Cause I’m hot, hot, so hot, sticky sweet, from my hand, hand, hand, to my feet.

Do lips take sugar?
One look, one towel!

PPS. In my defense, this is what happens when you learn a song in junior high by listening to it a million times on a worn-out cassette you recorded from a staticky radio station.

*******

And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Myawesomebeauty.com. It’s a website run by beauty addicts and professionals (formulator, esthetician, beauty advisor, etc.) who can teach you how to choose cosmetics or beauty devices worth your money following specific criteria, rather than just what brand is popular at the moment. The guides and reviews explain you what to look and what to check, from vitamin C serums to microdermabrasion machines for home use. You should check them out here.

 

MAGIC!

So yesterday Victor was like, “Hey, take some xanax because we’re going out tonight.  And by ‘tonight’ I mean ‘5pm’,” and I was like, “That seems very late for me and also ‘no,'” but he was like, “You’ll like it.  It’s a magic show in a hotdog castle that used to be a church,” and I was like, “Those words don’t go together.  Have you had a stroke?” and he sighed, “And it’s haunted,” and so I took my xanax but I didn’t know what to wear and Victor was like, “It’s a magic show.  Wear a sequined cravat obviously.  Don’t embarrass me.”  But I didn’t have one so I wore a red dress with a plastic belt that looks almost like diamonds if you have never seen diamonds.  And I would probably be perfectly dressed for a magic show but I forgot to compensate for “hotdog castle” so basically I was totally overdressed and glaring at Victor.

I don’t know why people call it a “hotdog castle” though. Maybe it’s heresy to call it a hotdog church?

And then we went up to the middle floor where the magic show was and it was GORGEOUS and covered with stained glass and I was in love for five seconds until I saw that it was communal bench seating so I had to eat my fancy hotdog with strangers which is my idea of hell.  Making smalltalk with strangers, I mean.  Not eating hotdogs.  I like hotdogs.  And when the strangers were like, “Where are you from?” and I was like, “I’m from Stop-Asking-Me-Questions” Victor coughed to cover it up and Hailey joyfully took over all of the conversations because she loves strangers and might be adopted.

The magic show was quite good but people didn’t seem to understand that when a magic trick is done you need to clap.  Or whoop.  Something.  Personally when a trick is done I often shout “WHAT.”  Or if it’s really good I point and yell “WITCHCRAFT“, but in a somewhat complimentary way rather than a “J’ACCUSE” sort of thing.  This seems a bit over the top but Victor is a magic geek and I’ve been to a shit ton of magic shows so I think I know what I’m doing.  Also, I’m usually very drunk, which makes me a great audience because I’m easily impressed. Plus I have ADD so I can never remember what the card was I was supposed to remember so no matter what happens I assume it’s magic.  Like, if a magician puts a rabbit in a hat and then pulled out the same rabbit a minute later I’m like, “YOU’VE SIGNED A PACT WITH THE DEVIL” and Victor has to remind me that that’s not the trick at all.

Scott Pepper doing magic. Not a good picture. Sorry.

I had an end to this but I forgot what it was.  I blame the ADD.

MAGIC!

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by StoryWorth Books, which I’m actually a big fan of.  From them: Still looking for a meaningful Father’s Day gift? StoryWorth is the perfect last minute gift. Each week, we’ll email him a question about his life – asking him about his favorite memory of his grandparents, or whether he’s ever pulled any great pranks. All he has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, his stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  You can check it out here.

 

FOUND: One tombstone. (Part 2)

So a week ago I found a used tombstone in a resale shop and started searching to see who it belonged to and after a lot of research I’ve solved nothing.  Well, not nothing because I now know that this is her and she looks like she’s judging me:

“My *what* is at a thrift shop?”

No response from all the people I’ve contacted through find-a-grave or ancestry or genealogy places or anything else, but I did have a break in the case when I found a funeral home that recently buried someone in the same cemetery a few years ago and so I contacted them (because there isn’t a way to contact the cemetery) and they put me in touch with the caretaker of the cemetery.  But the caretaker didn’t have email so I had to actually call him on the phone but my anxiety disorder makes it incredibly difficult to call people, to the point where if Victor tells me to call and order a pizza I’m like, “No thanks.  I’ll just starved to death instead”.  But now I had to call and ask a stranger about a different dead stranger whose gravestone I found. But I needed an answer so I took a xanax and called and the caretaker was very confused at first and there were a lot of awkward pauses  but then he was very sweet when I explained it properly.  He’s been the caretaker for over 30 years and he wasn’t aware of her tombstone being vandalized or stolen but he said he’d look into the records and see what he could find.  So, closer.  Although now I’m worried that someone will buy the tombstone while we’re waiting to hear back so I’m thinking I should buy it but Victor is glaring at me as I’m typing this because he already thinks I’m a hoarder of weird stuff even before I start bringing home used tombstones.

To be continued…

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by StoryWorth Books, which is a pretty awesome Father’s Day gift that you get to enjoy too.  From them: “Give Dad a StoryWorth Book to preserve his stories. Each week, we’ll email him a question about his life – asking him about his favorite memory of his grandparents, or whether he’s ever pulled any great pranks. All he has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, his stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  You can check it out here.

 

Things I wrote while high. (Not much different than what I wrote while sober if I’m being honest.)

This week when I was still high from the anesthesia I apparently wrote myself a series of notes on my phone.  A lot of them were literally gibberish but there were a few that made me go: “WTF?” and also, “I mean, yeah, maybe” at the same time.

This was one of them:

I think God must be an animal hoarder because he keeps making dogs that he knows he’s just gonna get back when they die and he only lets them live for like 10 years, which is not nearly long enough.  Like, how many dogs do you need, God?  Can we keep some?  And God’s like, “NO.  THESE DOGS ARE MINE.  YOU CAN BORROW THEM FOR LIKE…SEVEN TO TEN YEARS.”  And then I’d be like, “I don’t understand your end game, sir.  We need dogs to last longer” and then God would be like, “NOOOPE.  DON’T GET ATTACHED.  MY DOGS, YO.”  And this is why people become atheists.

Also, when I wrote this originally I was still high and it had even more typos than normal and the note had God yelling “THESE DONGS ARE MINE” and I was like, “Huh?” but then I figured it all out.  Probably going to hell for posting this on Sunday but in my defense, I’m not the one murdering dogs.

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Terrifyingly Beautiful, a witty podcast about living with anxiety. Join Kevin O’Connell and David Robert, self-proclaimed anxiety experts, as they pop open a bottle of cheap wine and share hilarious stories about the stuff that keeps them up at night. (Spoiler alert: It’s everything.) Topics thus far include salad bars, creepy dolls, germy gas pumps and dead nuns under the bed. The podcast definitely falls under the wonderful categories of “freak me out” and “make me laugh.” Check it out here.

 

Mother’s Day is complicated.

Mother’s Day is filled with conflicting emotions for a lot of us.  I’m incredibly lucky that I have a mother who I adore.  I’m enormously thankful that after lots of miscarriages and hundreds of injections I ended up with a small miracle in my daughter.  I’m one of the lucky ones.  But here’s the thing…Mother’s Day isn’t just about being mom or having a mom.  It’s also about celebrating the mother figures that come into your life.  And they do come in strange and wonderful ways that we don’t always recognize.

Like my little sister who helps me with work and always has my back because she’s naturally nurturing.  Or my friend Maile who literally carried me to the hospital last month and stayed with me the entire time, watching over me even when I was passing out and ridiculous.  Or my friends who check in with me, and who don’t get mad when I don’t always answer back because they love me enough to forgive me before even getting upset.  Or my daughter when she reminds me to take my medicine or my husband when he tells me to go to sleep and that everything will be okay, or the neighbor who yells at you for not wearing a coat outside because “are you trying to get a cold?” or the stranger at the store who quietly tells you that your skirt is tucked in to your underwear.  Or you guys…who support me when I’m up or down and who celebrate my successes with the pride of a mom, and worry about me and send me articles about eating right and who sometimes even hang up my drawings on your refrigerator.  Being a great mother isn’t necessarily about having a child or being older or even gender…it’s about caring for others beyond expectation…and today I celebrate every one of you who have gone beyond the necessary to so show kindness, love, gentle education, and even criticism when needed.  It makes the world a better place.

So Happy Mother’s Day to you…no matter who you are.

PS. If you want, feel free to share a comment about anyone in you life who has been there for you in a way that made you remember that in a way we are all each other’s mothers sometimes.

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Basic Invite, a stationery design company that puts design variety and personal style first. If you are planning a wedding, celebrating a graduation, or getting ready for a baby Basic Invite has a card for you. With tons of designs and customization options, there is something to suit every style! For example, if your baby shower is coming up… check out Basic Invite and customize your modern baby shower invitation. They have baby shower invites for girls or for boys or you can make your cards gender neutral, tailor them toward a coed shower or couples theme, or make it about you!  Basic Invite also has dreamy business cards and customizable personal stationery that are to die for! Click here to check them out.

Creepy doll challenge…phase 1. (UPDATED WITH PHASE 3)

A couple of weeks ago I challenged my friend (and fellow collector of creepy dolls) Bonnie to see who could rework this doll into the creepiest thing possible and now I’m ready to share my first variation.

In fairness, with the right lighting and filter it was already a little creepy:

But I thought I could go further.  So I added a few things.  Like a claw made of old erasers, a hand made of bark, another doll I repainted for her to hold, and a cat skeleton.  And some ruffles.

Work in progress…

Not a real cat skeleton. Thought I should clarify since I’m me.

Antiqued it a bit.  The end.

Then Victor and Hailey were like, “Not really creepy enough.  You didn’t do anything to her face” but I think that’s the creepy part.  They disagreed so I decided to make a stop-motion video to convince them.

They still don’t think it’s creepy enough because I think maybe I’ve immunized them with repeated exposure to weirdness so I’ll keep working on it and keep you posted.

PS.  I’ve seen other people talking about doing their own so if you decide to make a creepy doll post it in the comments because I totally want to see it.

UPDATE:  Consensus is that the face isn’t creepy enough so I’ve tried again:

#creepydollchallenge Details on the blog.

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on

What do you think?  Better?

UPDATED AGAIN:

Several of you noted that her hair was too “perky” to be scary so now one of my other dolls is bald so this could happen:

DONE.

Also, several of you have pointed out that she might always look a little too lovable to some of us because (as a misfit toy) she fits in our community very well and the more broken I make her, the more relatable she becomes, turning her into more of a mascot than a massacre.  Others would like me to stop posting creepy doll pictures so that they can start sleeping again.  Fair enough on both counts.

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And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

sid2

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Story Worth, which is a pretty awesome idea  I’m going to try myself.  From them:”This year, give Mom a StoryWorth Book to preserve her stories. Each week, we’ll email her a question about her life – asking her to recount her favorite memory of her grandparents, or whether she’s ever pulled any great pranks. All she has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, her stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  Check it out here.

I’m too high to write this but I’m going to anyway.

So yesterday I thought it would be fun to leave free books around town and then post pictures of them so people could find them, and I finished one drop…

…and then 40 minutes later I was here:

My God, I’m photogenic. So corpselike.

Long story short, an alien was chewing its way out of my stomach and I started fainting and I couldn’t feel my hands or legs, and then I died.  Except not the last part.  But it felt like it.  Plus the pain lead to a major panic attack so basically it was a great day.  Victor was out of the State (BECAUSE OF COURSE HE WAS) but luckily, my friend Maile was there to drive me to the hospital and hold me against my wheelchair when I passed out and she stayed with me during many tests and morphine shots and she wrote down all the weird stuff I said while I was high and messaged it to me in real time because she’s awesome like that.  Also, she took that picture of me at my request so I could prove to Victor that I was in the hospital because the morphine made me worried that I was dreaming this and apparently I thought Victor would be mad when all these bills came in from my dream.

Also, the nurse left this giant thing in my bed in case I needed to vomit and when I noticed it I was like, “This is the most unrealistic condom ever”…

…and then I started talking about cosmetic vagina surgery and about how I didn’t even know what it was supposed to look like best case scenario.  Like, am I supposed to want a giant labia, or no labia at all?  What are people asking these doctors for?  Butterfly vaginas?  Tiny moths?  Vagina dentata?  I asked the nurse and she was like, “Hell if I know.  That shit’s crazy.”  She was awesome.

Also, they said I had a very elevated level of lactate (?) and I was like, “That can’t be right.  I couldn’t even breast-feed and I’m lactose intolerant.”  But apparently this was something else related to infections or shock.  In the end they gave me a bunch of meds, including one for irritable bowel syndrome and that was the one that finally made my stomach stop trying to turn itself inside out so I guess I can add that to my list of “WHY MY BODY IS AN ASSHOLE”.

I’d explain this all better if I wasn’t still on drugs to keep the alien inside me quiet.  Sorry.

PS. My spellcheck tried to change “vagina dentata” to “vagina al dente”, which is taking weird to a whole new level.  Quit it, spellcheck.

*******

And now…time for the weekly wrap-up!

sid2

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Story Worth, which is a pretty cool idea I think I’m going to try myself.  From them:”This year, give Mom a StoryWorth Book to preserve her stories. Each week, we’ll email her a question about her life – asking her to recount her favorite memory of her grandparents, or whether she’s ever pulled any great pranks. All she has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, her stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  Check it out here.