My spoon is exhausted.

Conversation with my husband at one of those cooking stores for people who use more than one pot their whole life:

spoonme me: Holy shit.  This spoon is ENORMOUS.

Victor:  It’s not a spoon.  It’s a spoon rest.

me:  Because my spoons need to rest?

Victor:  Seriously?  You put it on the stove so you can put the dirty spoon you’re using to stir with on it.

me:  So now I have two dirty spoons.  I’m supposed to buy a spoon for my spoon now?

Victor:  Sort of.

me:  Baffling.  And this is why I don’t cook.

Victor:  Yeah.  That’s why.


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 you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:  (I had a small breakdown this week, and the best cure for that is reading so all of these are books that helped me escape the hell that is my own head.  If you hate books you should leave now.)

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the fascinating Cosmic Box.  Cosmic Box is an inexpensive monthly released box, full of an eclectic mix of organic small batch food, organic artisan skin care, gems and such. It’s like a surprise present for your body, soul and home.  The very first box ships out mid-May and all are curated by Kat Davis (also of wildhoneyapothecary) a holistic RN who has dedicated her life to the study of botanicals, gems and honey.   20% off all profits are donated to a different charity each month.  Get yourself some cosmic awesomeness right here.

Worst. Advice. Ever.

Last week my friend said that her mom’s greatest piece of advice was “Do one thing every day that scares you” and I told her that was terrible advice because you know what scares me?  Bears.  I’m not going to do a bear, lady.  I don’t even think that’s legal in Texas.

Long story short?  I think my friend’s mom is trying to kill me.

UPDATED:  Hang on.  I just realized that technically having sex with a bear would be extremely terrifying and would probably make you appreciate the rest of your fragile life.  A life where you don’t have to have sex with dangerous, bitey bears.

So I guess there’s some actual advice in there after all.  Not good advice.  But still.

Good Luck Satan

Yesterday I went to a thrift store and I saw an old hand-embroidered tablecloth and I thought, Does that say “GOOD LUCK SATAN”?

good luck satanThen I looked closer and realized that no…no it doesn’t say that.

good luck on saturn

It actually says “GOOD LUCK ON SATURN”.  Which makes…slightly more sense?

Then I unfolded it and realized it says: “GOOD LUCK on SATURDAY”.  Which is honestly sort of a let-down after all of that.  Personally I preferred “GOOD LUCK on SATURN” because the embroidered cat looks all kinds of pissed off, like she’d stab you if she got a chance, but she’d settle for just shipping you off to Saturn.  And she made you a hot, poisoned pie to keep you warm because Saturn is all icy and cold.

So I’ve made some changes:

goodluckonsaturnPS. I made you a pillow.  It’s just like the ones your grandma made, but with more stabbing:




No. No. Nope. ALL THE NOPES.

If you’ve been here long enough you know I have a terrific fear of anything tentacled, and that I’m fairly certain giant squids will one day take over the world.

This isn’t helping:

We’re not even safe on land, you guys.  I don’t even trust the toilet anymore at this point.

When did Science turn into an accessory?

1.  Whose idea was it to schedule school picture day on the same day that Science Project Hats are due?


2.  When did we stop making science projects, and instead make science projects that have to be worn on a hat?  Is this just a Texas thing?

3.  FYI…Science projects don’t balance well on hats because hats are round.  (THAT’S SCIENCE.)  So now you have to make a working solar system and also balance it on a round, moving, hyper child.

4.   Hailey couldn’t get her project to balance on a baseball cap (An electrical current she made that lights up and makes noises like a space battle) so we wired it onto an easter basket because it was flat and she could use the handle to keep it on.  Then she was like “Are you sure about this?  Will the other kids make fun of me for wearing a basket on my head?” and I was all, “Who is going to make fun of you?  The kid with a baking soda volcano dripping all over his forehead, or the one balancing a giant food pyramid on her bicycle helmet?”   And she was like, “Fair enough.  Just make sure you take pictures of everyone else at the Science Experiment Hat Parade in case I need those pictures in the future.”  Bonus lesson: Mutual mortification is a great equalizer.


5.  This is unrelated but I just got a catalogue for Easter stuff and this was one of the 200 types of Easter Eggs.  I’m pretty sure that’s Fat Buddy Jesus.  And that seems a little sacrilegious but it’s probably okay because Jesus has his thumbs up.  I think.  Hard to tell.

Also, I just noticed that the thing on the bottom right says "Jesus Has My Easter Eggs."  Not cool, Jesus.

Also, I just noticed that the bottom right says “Jesus Has My Easter Eggs.” Not cool, Jesus.

PS.  This is a picture of Hailey launching a flying saucer with her electrical circuit, (which you can’t see because it’s up on the ceiling) and it’s incredibly blurry but I’m sharing it because Ferris Mewler thought  it was so fantastic he smiled in spite of himself.  SCIENCE!


PPS.  As requested, here’s a link to buy Jesus eggs and another to buy Snap Circuit boards.


My dog is an internet icon.

We’ve had Dorothy Barker for a month and I’ve been trying to teach her some tricks, like “not running around like a maniac at 3am” and “the rug is not a toilet” but she’s having none of it.  I tried fetch and she brought back the ball once and then after that she was like “You know what?  No.  I just brought it back to you and you immediately lost it.  How are you going to learn if I keep doing this for you?”  Then I explained that it was a game and she looked at me like “I’m a dog.  I don’t speak english.  What is wrong with you?  Also, I’m peeing.”  And it’s fine because she’s very little and I’m patient, and honestly it’s hard to fault a dog who is all, “Whatever.  If you don’t want that ball here then I don’t either.  I respect your decisions, lady.”  I suspect she’ll learn the basics eventually, but she’s weirder than the average dog and I don’t know if that’s because we’re rubbing off on her or if she’s legitimately odd.

Hunter S. Thomcat and Dorothy Barker.  And uneasy alliance.

Hunter S. Thomcat and Dorothy Barker: An uneasy alliance.

Then yesterday Dorothy Barker did that thing where she forgot the end of her tongue was out and just left it lolling out of her mouth even though it was shut.  I kept trying to push it back in her mouth but she was all “Stop trying to change me.  I like it this way.”  So I gave up and took a picture and it turned out so ridiculously awful that I decided to put it on instagram because  1) it’s nice to remember that even dogs take bad pictures now and again, and 2) it’s just more proof that this dog is broken.

Then my friend Norma pointed out that maybe Dorothy wasn’t intentionally trying to sabotage my photo and was actually doing a perfect impression of an internet icon.

And she’s right.


That’s my dog, y’all.

Facebook is evil. Or I am. One of those.

Sometimes I want to write something innocuous on Facebook like “Puppy kisses are awesome!” so hundreds of people will click the “like” button, but then go back in and edit that post to say something like “I just made a blanket out of skinned kittens”.  And then I’d go into the comments and be like “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?  WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS?  This was a test and you failed.  Stop skinning kittens.

And then I’d write a new Facebook status saying that to clear my head I’d just made a bacon-wrapped mac & cheese burrito, and after getting a bunch of comments like “Sounds delish!  Share the recipe!” and “Now I’m starving.  I want one!” I’d go back and change that status to “Nothing smells better than a newborn baby”.

Then I’d probably have to stop using Facebook.  That might be for the best anyway.


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 you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the lovely Clumsy Bloggers Workshop:  “Are you a clumsy blogger? Do you want to be awesome? Take your blog form boring to kick-ass in eight weeks with the Clumsy Bloggers’ Workshop. Whether you’re just starting out or have been at it a while, you’ll learn something new — design, scheduling, pictures, mailing lists, social media, and more. Price tag is $150; use promo code “BLOGGESS” for 20% off.”

Let me be frank.

This week I spoke at frank in Florida and it was lovely.  Click here to see the glorious magnificence of my hotel room.  I highly recommend checking out all of the speeches but if you have 30 minutes and want to see mine you can check it out here.  You have to fast-forward to the end to see it.  It’s at the 1 hour 14 minute mark.

PS. I corrected Matt who credited @crappytaxidermy but it actually was @craptaxidermy so ignore me.  And I’m sure I fucked up other stuff too.  The usual.

poorprofessor higgins

PPS.  Unrelated, but this dress debate is killing me.  You’ve seen this, right?


I saw this CLEARLY WHITE AND GOLD dress this morning and everyone else I know is saying it’s clearly black and blue so I ask Victor and he said it was black and blue as well and that’s when I decided this was a big practical joke on me.  You win.  Lot of trouble to go through to make me think I’m losing my mind, y’all.

PPS.  WHAT THE FUCKETY FUCK.  I just looked at it again and now it’s black and blue and I can’t understand how I ever thought it was gold and white.  What sort of wizardry is this?

My grandparents would be very proud. Maybe.

You guys.  My book has now been translated into Czech, which is awesome because my dad’s parents are Czech and if they were still alive I think they would be very proud.  Or they’d change their names and pretend they were Bolivian.

I never know what the covers are going to look like so it’s always a surprise.  This one is a particular favorite because I’m pretty sure they dressed up a live mouse in a Shakespearean costume, and also because it literally has the word “fuck” scrawled right on the front cover.  That’s not something I did myself.  The cover is intentionally vandalized.  And that is awesome.


I think it translates to “Fuck.  This is true?”  Which?  Fair enough, I guess.

Apparently it’s getting good reviews, although I can’t read them because I don’t speak Czech.  But I did do a translation of one of them and this paragraph was pretty explanatory:

“When the snake looks like a rattlesnake and still has before him an armed to the teeth mother, it’s the same as if you were in front of the cop and pulled out a fake gun. In both cases you are expecting nothing but death. Texas is a state where they once banned sodomy and oral sex, but calmly here in the name of passion hunting is tolerated when guys smell like skunks.”

So, yeah.  NAILED IT.

PS. This could never have happened without your amazing support so as a small token of thanks I’m giving away an autographed copy of my book in whatever language you want.  Or an autographed copy of someone else’s book.  Or a banana.  You want me to sign a banana?  ‘Cause I can do that.  You need a cake?  Whatever you want really.  Just tell me what you want in the comments and I’ll randomly pick someone to send an autographed hamster or whatever it is you need.


UPDATED:  Okay, I’m sending signed weird things to several of you but the actual winner is Karen Martin, who made me cry a little with her comment:

One of my last favorite fabulous days with my mother was sitting on the beach raeding your book right when it came out. I was laughing so hard at everything and mom asked what was so funny? So I started reading aloud the part I was reading at that moment and mom grabbed the book out of my hands and proceeded to read the entire book! She loved it and once I got it back, so did I! Mom suffered from six strokes shortly thereafter and held on for almost a year after. I was blessed with the gift of caring for her during that time and would read your book to her wvwn though she couldn’t outwardly respond. I know she was laughing inside though. In her memory, I would love a book signed to her, Claudette, so I can always see a visual of the love we shared and all the laughter! You rock, Jenny, and you rocked my mom’s world, too!

Thank you so much for sharing that, Karen.  Check your email.


Soup Satchel!

I haven’t designed anything for my shop in awhile, but then last night it hit me.


Soup not included.

$11.95.  Soup not included.

It’s a satchel.  For your soup.  And I even made a special “ladies version” because for some reason that’s a thing:

soupsatchel text



And in answer to your questions:  Yes, I had been drinking when I made these.

It’s pretty obvious that soup won’t sit well in a canvas bag (unless maybe you line it with cling wrap first?) but personally my favorite part of soup is the chunks in it, so if you use this soup satchel then all of the juice will drain out and you’re left with a meatier stew.  It’s like a very slow, hipster strainer.

BONUS:  The leaky juices will marinate your floors so your house will smell like soup all the time.  Soup makes a house into a home.  It’s like a Crockpot scented Yankee Candle.  Also, this makes a perfect book bag.  But only if you clean out the soup first.

(Use the code LOVESINTAAIR for 15% off soup satchels and 50% off cards.)