UPDATED: The Church of Bloggessianism. Choose your title, strangelings.

A few weeks ago I was accidentally made the leader of a church which doesn’t actually exist and now we have over 2,000 members.  I’m pretty sure than makes me some sort of Pope so please send me hats.


More about that here if you missed it.

We decided that it would be nice to have some commandments, but “Commandment” seemed a bit pushy so we’re leaning more toward “Helpful Hints” or “Life Hacks”.  I came up with the first few.  The rest are a few of my favorites you’ve come up with.  Feel free to add your own:

Current Life Hacks for the Church of Bloggessianism:

  • Don’t be an asshole.
  • Extra gravy for everyone.
  • Two holy days of observance each month requiring Bloggessians to take the day off and watch bad tv or read in bed. We also get all the regular holidays off for every other religion because we’re incredibly open-minded and like to support other beliefs as well. This includes Talk-Like-A-Pirate-Day, National Donut Day, Deviled Egg Appreciation Day, etc. (FYI…today is National Sundae Day, even though it’s Tuesday, but it’s nice because you need to leave right now and eat ice cream for religious reasons.)
  • If you see a sloth you are given special dispensation to hug it. Present your official card to any zoo officials.
  • Here is your official I-Can-Hold-A-Sloth-Because-It’s-Against-My-Religion-Not-To card.
  • Mosquitos are now illegal.
  • Wearing slippers and pajamas in public is a sign of your faith and you’re allowed to kick judgey people in the knee if they question you. Togas are also acceptable if you are feeling particularly religious or if you’ve run out of clean clothes altogether.
  • Bacon at every meal. Chocolate dipped bacon for special high holidays.
  • Blessed are the pickles, for they are pickled.
  • Thou shall always ask for help when you need it.
  • Thou shall carry thy metal spork for all sudden stabby needs.
  • Thou shall glitter-bomb assholes.
  • Thou shall get your slow ass out of the fast lane.
  • Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s giant metal chicken.
  • Thou shalt not lick foxen, unless the foxen are into it.
  • Thou shalt not share things on facebook until thou hast verified their truth.
  • Thou shalt not throw co-workers under the bus.
  • Thou shalt not leave your cart in the middle of the grocery aisle and wander off to find tuna fish.
  • Thou shalt not talk to people who are less than 10 pages from the end of the book they are currently reading
  • Thou shalt not make commandments.
  • Thou shalt not shalt others. 
  • Honor the saints of Bloggessianism. St. Wil of Collating.  St. Jeri Ryan of Spatula. Nancy W. Kappes, Patron Saint of Chemical Substances.  James Garfield, Patron Saint of Taxidermy.  Etc.
  • Special dispensation from parallel-parking.
  • Pants are always optional. Always.
  • We brake for taxidermy. Also chocolate. And phantom Sasquatches.
  • Never stand if you can sit.  Never sit if you can lie down.
  • We all get our own pony.
  • Cadbury mini eggs are available year round.
  • And none for Gretchen Weiners.
  • You may decline on the gravy, or give your gravy as a charitable contribution to those less gravied.
  • Christmas is a mandatory onesie day.
  • No one leaves the house until all cookies are eaten.
  • All orphaned pygmy hippos will be adopted, and named George.
  • On the sabbath, excerpts shall be read from “The Phantom Tollbooth.”
  • Take care of each other.
  • Never take advice from someone with bad eyebrows.
  • The go-to phrase for asking anybody to hold something shall invariably be, “Hold my poodle.”
  • Everything comes with a side of pancakes.
  • No observances during the Zombie Apocalypse.
  • Whosoever believeth in me shall be confused all the days of their lives.
  • Depression lies.
  • Red dresses are sacred.
  • Bloggessians may be taxidermied upon death and kept in the family home. Keeping them fashionably dressed is a must or you may be haunted by them.
  • The only weapons we believe in are books and we believe in heavily arming everyone.
  • Mandatory Cupcake Monday
  • Taco Tuesday
  • Saturday is now Caterday.
  • Time is a “wibbly wobbly concept” and therefore deadlines are portals that must be avoided unless we’re okay with being trapped in a rift.
  • Bloggessians can decline social events without guilt for any reasons related to their heads getting in the way.
  • Celebrate the awkwarding.
  • Never let anyone be awkward all alone.
  • Remember that thou art as special and irreplaceable as the people you love most. 
  • Keep the Victor in thy prayers and do not succumb to the wrongness; forever and ever or until the gravy runs out.
  • Wine shall be an acceptable beverage at all hours of the day.
  • Everyone should be owned by at least one animal.
  • Naps shall be mandatory.
  • Members of the church can still be members of any other religion or lack-thereof, but membership into the Double Unicorn Success Club is automatic.
  • Spiders must ask permission before entering a home.
  • All members, male and female alike, shall have their own tiaras.
  • Inappropriate giggling is always appropriate.
  • Share your successes. Share your failures. Share your booze.
  • No icy cold weather allowed. But sometimes snow.
  • Our biggest tenet is David Tenant.
  • One can NEVER have too many towels.
  • Above all things, we strive to be furiously happy. If that doesn’t work, wine slushees usually will.
  • The official religious sacrament offerings are tiny cakes made for squirrels.
  • If a llama is within ten feet of you, then you can try to ride it if the llama is into it.  If you’re feeling extra religious you may wave a flag. (Pirate flag is suggested.)
  • Tithing is expected.  It is also expected that you spend all of your tithing on ridiculous things that you would never buy for yourself except now you have to because it’s a religious requirement.

These commandments might seem contradictory, but that’s fitting because being contradictory is also part of our (dis)organized religion.

Everyone in the Church of Bloggessianism is given an official title when they feel they are ready for that level of responsibility.  “Strangeling” is the perfect beginner title for all neophytes who don’t yet know what unique title they want to settle on. Once you’ve decided that being weird is a good thing you are officially a Strangeling. Then, once you’ve eaten a good slice of pie, or watched a zombie move, or accomplished something a grown-up should have to do, you become qualified to choose any title that best fits your personality.  Right now I’m Jenny Lawson, Notorious Lion Whisperer.  I’ve already picked out my business cards.  Here’s a helpful chart if you need suggestions picking a title (or page down to have one randomly assigned).

choose your own title

Or if there are just too many options you can use this clever thing my brilliant friend made us:

The Random Title Generator for the Church of the Bloggessianism

(My randomly assigned title today was Dreadful Overlord of Ermine Canon.  I approve.)

If you’d like to commemorate your title (or bestow a title to a special someone) you can customize this card with your title.  The official I-Can-Hold-A-Sloth-Card is printed inside.  Any profits raised by the church will go to buying taxidermy and helping homeless children, but a basic tenet of the church should be “No helping homeless children if you don’t want to” so you have full permission to just print this out for free yourself.  (PS. The coupon code TISTHESEASON gets you 60% off that card this week.)



Now go out and be awesome.

May peace and gravy follow you the rest of your days.

I can’t go for that.

I’ve never liked the song I Can’t Go For That because this guy seems totally untrustworthy.  I’ve never actually paid attention to all the lyrics but the chorus is telling enough, I think:

“I’ll do anything that you want me to.”

“Oh.  I’ll do almost anything that you want me to.”


“No, I…  NO CAN DO.”


I’m not sure why he changed so suddenly but it certainly shows his lack of dedication.  He’s like Blaine in Pretty in Pink.  “I’ll do anything that you want me to.”  Really, Blaine?  Will you tell your friends about me?  “Well, almost anything.”  What about prom, Blaine? “I CAN’T HEAR YOU.  LALALALALA.”

In fairness, I should listen to the full song because maybe the singer was like, “Baby, I’ll do anything you want.  Wanna a neck rub?” and she was like, “No, but you could help me with this cocaine enema.  I’ll get the towels” and he was like, “Well, I meant…almost anything.”  And she was like, “Can you help me dismember a body?” and he was all “Can I do what now?  No.”  And then she’s like,  “Fine.  I need you to kill this kitten for Satan” and he was all, “You want me to kill Mr. Tinkles?  WHAT IS YOUR DEAL, LADY?  NO CAN DO.”

Honestly, I bet she didn’t even want to date him.  She was probably just testing to see if he was really fully invested.  Or to teach him the importance of avoiding hyperbole and exaggeration when it comes to seduction.  Or maybe she was just really into Satan and cocaine enemas.  Hard to tell.  Frankly, the whole song just makes me glad I’m not single.  Victor and I have been married for 18 years and our song is more like “I can’t clean up that cat vomit or I’ll vomit too.”  “Fine.  I’ll clean up the cat vomit if you handle all the large spiders that get in the house.”  “Deal.”  “You want get some tacos?”  “Yeah.  I could go for that.”  It’s not as rhymey but it works for us.


And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:


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

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:


Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

  • This.  Just for the reviews alone.

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you by the always fabulous SilkWords.  They specialize in choose-your-own-adventure online erotic stories and right now they’re doing a few where the story unfolds with reader participation. Readers are given choices and then vote on what happens next, and then the author writes the next installment. Membership is free for adults.  You should check them out here.

It’s weird. But all the best things are.

I’ve been super sick for the past few days but I got my voice back today (much to Victor’s chagrin) and the steroids are kicking in but not really enough to write a real post so instead I’m posting this, which I started writing a long time ago but never finished.  It feels undone and not properly tied together, but in a way that makes sense because “unbalanced and disjointed” is a pretty fair description if we’re doing a realistic portrait of me anyway:

Remember a few months ago when I said I’d share the rest of the photos that my friend amazingly talented friend Brooke Shaden took of me, but then I promptly forgot?

Well, I remembered.  So here they are.

This the first, which I already wrote about here.


But here are two more:

small powder


small red dress

I’ll always keep them because they’re ethereal and dark and magical, but really I love them most of all because I can’t look at the pictures without remembering walking barefoot in the swamp while wearing ripped dresses that wouldn’t zip up over my boobs. Or having Brooke douse me in baby powder while my daughter gleefully looked for fireflies and Victor set off smoke bombs.  Or literally falling off that log in the bottom picture while trying to adjust my antler as a baffled hiker walked by.  Also, I now know why people use the phrase “as easy as falling off a log” because it is very easy, if you don’t count the hassle of stitches afterward.

It’s weird.  But then, all the best things are.

Veterans Day

This morning I watched Hailey sing to the veterans being honored at her school and it was lovely.


If you’re a veteran, or a relative of one, I thank you.

And a special salute today to Hailey’s grandfather and great-grandfather.

My father

My father

Victor's grandfather.

Victor’s grandfather.

Today, there are almost 50,000 homeless veterans in America and over a million  considered at risk of homelessness due to poverty. Hundreds of thousands of veterans have post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and there are an increasing number of military families who rely on food stamps.  For ways to help, click here.

I started writing this post a year ago and I still don’t have a good ending.

Conversation between me and Victor:

me:  Look!  I designed a shirt for us:

procrastinate no

Victor:  “Procrastinate no“?

me:  It was meant to say “PROCRASTINATE NOW” but then I got distracted and never finished it.

Victor:  Well, that’s ridiculous.

Me:  No, it’s fitting.  Because I’m all, “PROCRASTINATE NOW!” because I’m cool with procrastination.  So cool with it, in fact, that I didn’t even finish the shirt.  But then it also works for you because you hate procrastination, so if you wear it it’s more like: “PROCRASTINATE?  NO!”  Either way, everyone agrees.  And now we can both wear the same shirt so we’re saving money on clothes.

Victor:  Except that we don’t wear the same size.   And the shirt isn’t here.

me:  I haven’t ordered it yet.  I figured I’d do it later.

Victor:  So you haven’t ordered the shirt that you haven’t finished…which celebrates the fact that you procrastinate?

me:  Yes.  I’m proving my own point without even wearing the shirt.  That’s how good of a shirt it is.

PS.  I read that The Nepalese postal service sometimes gets so behind they throw away sacks of undelivered mail. Based on that, I think I might be Nepalesian. Or Nepaleatic.  Or Neopolitan. I’m not sure which, but I just spent an hour looking up why I don’t have time to answer all my mail in the time it could have taken me to answer all my mail.  I can’t tell if that’s impressive or incredibly sad.  Also, I just remembered that I haven’t taken my ADD drugs in awhile.

Things are starting to make sense now.


And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

sid4(Paper collage courtesy of Bethany Goosen.)

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

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you the fabulous Victoria Elizabeth Barnes, who writes about restoring her old Victorian house… Sort of.  She writes about being married, surviving intense and chaotic house-projects with her husband, and her deep love of craigslist/hoarding giant architectural salvage.  You might know her from the time she brought home a massive mirror that’s bigger than my first apartment, but my favorite was the time she made her husband rip down walls to save treasure.  Go read it.

Neptune is surrounded by a fog of invisible cats and sloths. FACT.

According to the internet this is a real fact:

“On Saturn and Jupiter, it actually rains diamonds! Although the diamonds disintegrate before they reach the planet surfaces, they fall in their solid forms through the atmosphere.”

I’m sorry.  That can’t be true.  They’re just making shit up now.  But it’s a good fact to invent because it’s fascinating and how are you going to disprove it?  I could say that Mars is covered with a heavy fog of invisible cats and unicorn-sloths and no one could say shit about it.  Except for maybe astronomers and astrophysicists, I guess.  But I suspect they’re just making this stuff up as they go along so I think I just need to find someone to bribe at NASA and then all my facts will be accepted too.

They’d be like, “Invisible cats and unicorn-sloth fog?  Really?  Well, we did do ‘It rains diamonds on Saturn’ and people fell for that insanity.  We were super-drunk when we wrote that and we thought people would realize we were being sarcastic but apparently we need a sarcasm font because people will believe fucking anything.  You know what?  Fine.  No one is reading this shit anyway.”

Back me up here, Phil Plait.

PS. I don’t have a picture of invisible cats on Mars because they’re invisible (which I think is proof of my theory) so I’m making up for it with a picture of Ferris Mewler in his usual position on the stairs.

That can't be comfortable.

That can’t be comfortable.

See you next Tuesday.

I’m a big fan of this lovely mug, which cleverly uses the “C” of the handle to let you be terrible in person:

unt …and it really inspired me so I designed this:

Victor says no one will buy this but I disagree.  Then he asked if I was going to buy one and I was like "God, no."

Victor says no one will buy this but I disagree. Then he asked if I was going to buy one and I was like, “OH GOD NO.”

And then Victor was like “The whole point of the first mug is so you can walk around with profanity on your glass but not have it be noticed” and I was like, “Yeah.  Obviously.”  And he was all, “I’m pretty sure everyone will know what ‘unnilingus’ means”, but I just typed it in and spellcheck was like “THAT’S NOT A WORD.  NO GUESSES FOUND” so I’m pretty sure that proves it’s more subtle than Victor thinks.

Then Victor argued that, “You can’t just expect spellcheck to suggest ‘cunnilingus'” and I was like, “God, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that.

Because then I’d have one nickel.

I also thought about making a mug that said “amel-toe” but that seemed weird and so instead I just wrote “WORD” on a mug.  That way you can carry it around  and people will think you’re just really into Vanilla Ice, but really it says another thing completely.

It's subtle.  And then not subtle at all.

It’s subtle. And then not subtle at all.

If you don’t see it then you aren’t looking hard enough.

PS. Use the promo code: VETERANDAY14 at checkout to get 15% off all my profane mugs until Friday.

PPS. Some fabulous(ly disturbing) requests and suggestions have come in.  See the comments for even more terrible things.