Get in the bitch dumpster.

My brain has stopped working this week so please enjoy this assortment of things that brought me joy and laughter:

1. I drove past this and had to stop to take a picture because “GET IN THE BITCH DUMPSTER” is now my new favorite insult.

2. I am a prolific reader and a bookstore owner and I just found out I have been mispronouncing Jodi Picoult’s name my whole life. I texted Vicki from Nowhere and turns out we’re all just learning constantly:

3. I got this cool ring knife because Victor was always yelling at me for using the scissors “wrong” because he always insists I’m going to stab myself even though I never do…

And it is amazing for opening packages and I feel like a miniature Freddy Kruger, but I was so excited that when I went to put the lid back on it I missed and fucking stabbed the shit out of my hand.

Unrelated…that little die-cut thing in the picture above is a magnet that we are sending out when you buy a copy of HOW TO BE OKAY WHEN NOTHING IS OKAY from Nowhere and we accidentally ordered way too many so I stuck a bunch all over my tailgate and now it’s much easier to find my car in the parking lot. So if you happen to see a subaru in San Antonio with exploding headed bears all over it that is me and feel free to pull one off for yourself.

4. We got two weird reviews for Nowhere Bookshop from a couple who opined that “the book selection appeared to be purposeful” (it is!) and our far too LGBTQ-friendliness was too “in your face” (too friendly! Cut it out, y’all!) and that it was more of a safe space for “a particular crowd” than bookshop, and I guess that’s probably accurate if the particular crowd they’re talking about is readers who love love? It’s just sort of nice that even when we get one-star reviews they usually end up being ones we’re most proud of. 🙂

5. Purrsy Bysshe Shelley is growing like a fucking weed. HE IS LANKY AS HELL. Victor asked me what I was feeding him and I was like, “Kitten food and human hair.” Only the first part is intentional, but every night he cuddles up on my pillow and twice I have woken up to hear a weird noise and turned on the light to find that Purrsy was EATING MY HAIR.

It’s like he’s building a fucking nest.

Luckily for him, he is adorable. He can have all of my hair. I love him.

6. I forgot what number 6 was.

7. Wait, I remember! I wrote about my brain not working anymore on my art substack if you want to read it. (You can have it delivered each week in your email if you like. The majority of the posts are free for everyone but you can sign up for extras if you want to keep me in art supplies.)

8. There is no number 8. Thanks for reading, friend.