Site icon The Bloggess

I blame Steve Jobs for this.

A series of texts I sent to my friend Maile after the rotten wood on our deck was replaced:

To her credit, Maile was unflappable and assumed that my deck, dock and cock were all equally well-crafted.

PS.  After you fuck up two texts your phone should just automatically shut off to save you from yourself.  Just a suggestion, Apple.

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And in less slightly-confusing news, it’s time for this week’s 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 wrap-up is sponsored by my friend Marie, creator of Misanthropista.  She’s sort of a bad-ass and most of her emails end with “Oh, bite me” or “What the fuck are you looking at?” but deep down she has a heart of gold and will teach you all about sexting.  You should check her out. Bring donuts.

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