Category Archives: I swear to God I donate to Doctors without Borders

Dear internet: You have lost your damn mind. Never change.

If this is your first time here you should skip this post.  Really.  Go away until tomorrow.  It’s one long run-on sentence and makes almost no sense and it’s filled with typos.  I haven’t slept in two days.

The last 36 hours has been strange even by my personal standards.  First of all, after two years of turmoil and struggle I was finally recognized for my contribution in the field of politics when I was presented with a Shorty Award.  It was a big night for me and I may have screamed a bit, which was fine because I was actually watching it from home because I was too freaked out to go to New York alone and I think Victor broke his arm on purpose so that I wouldn’t walk up on stage in my panda suit to accept the award from that guy who does the Daily Show.  Also, I was told to submit my acceptance speech in case I win and I specifically asked them to have Jerry Stiller read it and accept the award for me, but when he came out on the stage at the beginning he looked so frail that I wanted to just put him in an egg container to keep him safe, and I silently prayed that they wouldn’t actually let him read my acceptance speech because I gave him stage directions that when he screams “WOLVERIIIIIIIIIIINES!” he should do it with victorious fist-pumping action, (ala Red Dawn) and I’m fairly sure it would have shattered all the bones in his body.  No one wants to be responsible for killing Jerry Stiller.

For those of you wondering what the fuck I’m talking about and why I even wanted a political award when I don’t actually have anything to do with politics, I will give you a short summary.  Part 1: 15 months ago I was somehow shortlisted in a political category for the Shorty Awards (it’s like the Oscars of Twitter) and I spent a lot of time telling The Shorty Award people that I’m not actually in government but it didn’t work because people kept voting for me ironically so I decided to run with it and took on NASA and the Mayor of New York.  Also, my personal hero (Author, Neil Gaiman) decided he’d run for the Customer Service category because the “author” category just seemed too fucking obvious, and also I think we were drawn to the idea of showing why voter-driven awards are fundamentally flawed.

Part 2.  I was a top finalist until the last day of voting when I was unceremoniously stripped of all of my votes because NASA paid them off.  I assume.  The Shorty People said it was because I’m not really a Government official.  They also stripped Neil of his Customer Service votes.  It was totally shitty but the city of Martindale Texas came to the rescue and named me as their official Czar.  I report to the stray cat that lives at city hall.  None of this is made up and I have pictures to prove it.

Part 3. I sent a strongly-worded email to the Shorty Awards demanding my votes be reinstated as I was now a Government official.  They told me I need a full year of service before it counts.  I think maybe the shorty awards don’t know how the Government works.

Part 4. The Shorty Awards hate ponies.

Part 5. The Mayor of Martindale traveled to Houston to present me with my crown, scepter, and a government proclamation (signed by the cat).  Then I was attacked on stage by a stray baby.

Part 6: In my duties as an official Czar of Texas I have judged and accidentally desecrated a beauty pageant (but forgot to write about it) and personally welcomed Neil Gaiman to Texas.  I planned to give him the key to the city but the only key I had on me was my mailbox key and I was expecting a package that week.

Part 7 (one year from ordinal update):  This is part seven.  It’s been a year of service and after many dedicated followers (thank you!) voted to reverse this travesty I found myself short-listed, and the finalist list went to the Academy to make the final vote.  It’s an Academy that includes MC Hammer.  This is all true.  Apparently MC Hammer is a fan of chaos and anarchy because I won.  They flashed my acceptance speech (recognizing Martindale, TX and the cat I report to) onto the screen and it was done.  It would have been more exciting except one of the other winners was a sandwich.  True story.  Winners include me, Conan O’Brien, and a sandwich.  I’m not sure what they’re going to do with my glass trophy since I wasn’t there to accept it but if they don’t want to mail it me I’m going to ask them to give it to a homeless person because homeless people deserve trophies too.

Then yesterday I asked everyone on twitter to paypal me 11 cents in the next 24 hours because I needed $1,000 to buy something incredibly stupid.  And they did.  Hundreds and hundreds of 11 cent paypal donation flooded in and I emailed out 450 thank you notes until my wrists seized up and I had to quit.  As of this moment people have sent in $402 in mostly 11 cent increments.  Which is completely insane.  And awesome.

Hard to argue with that one.

Sadly, this morning I was informed that the taxidermied pig (who died of natural causes) dressed as Scarlett O’Hara that I desperately wanted to buy was not properly preserved and is no longer a good investment because it’s “totally stinky”.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed but I shall persevere.  And instead of saving up for my the next stupidest thing on my list (Hannah the drunken squirrel pianist ~ “Cognac is her drink of choice, while silly little love songs are her song of choice. She drinks until the songs become sad, then stops“) I’ve decided to take this money and give back to the community in the most ridiculous way I can think of.

Remember a few weeks ago when Wil Wheaton sent me a picture of himself collating papers so I could use it to stop spam?  Exactly.  That was awesome.  And that’s why I’m going to offer Nathan Fillion $402 to send me a picture of himself holding twine.  Sexily, if possible.

PS. If Nathan does not respond then I’m going to use the money to buy a bunch of pigmy goats for my neighbor because then I won’t have to be responsible for the goats but I can still play with them.  Best idea ever.

PPS.  The very best part of the whole Shorty Award ceremony:  Amanda Palmer plays tweets of random celebs…fucking awesome.

UPDATED: It’s been several days and Nathan Fillion not tweeted anything remotely regarding twine.  He did, however, tweet a picture of a fake dead cat covered in ketchup and another one of him stand next to food.  In other words, Nathan Fillion has lost his damn mind.  Personally, I’m concerned and I think perhaps we need to leave him alone.   The good news though is that I told Alyssa Milano that I seem to have inadvertantly terrified Nathan Fillion and asked if she could stand in for him and she replied “I’m confused”, which is totally a fair response.  Then I explained a bit further and she said she would totally be happy to send us a picture the very next time she did something incredibly random.  I suggested a picture of her thumbwrestling Sarah Silverman or or possibly having a staring contest with an animal but it’s really up to her.  Personally, it doesn’t even matter if she never sends anything.  The very fact that she responded at all makes her fucking classy in my book.  This would have a funnier ending if I didn’t only have 9 minutes before my laptop battery gives out.  Just pretend I wrote something hysterically right here.

I blame the earthquake

I get hundreds of emails a week asking me to help with charities but I don’t do anything with them because I get too depressed when I read about them, but this particular email made me laugh in a particularly guilty sort of way so I’m reprinting it here:

Dear The Bloggess (Jenny) -

First of all this email is not about advertising but this was the only
address I could find, which is understandable because otherwise you would
probably have crazy people emailing you day and night wanting mad things,
which leads me directly to my next point.

I am from Christchurch in New Zealand. Sheeps and hobbits. But also
earthquakes. We had a big earthquake and now it turns out that while the
good thing about an earthquake is that you can be completely obnoxious then
say, "Oh, sorry, that's the earthquake talking" there are also bad things,
like it squashes your central business district and also some of your
friends.  Probably I shouldn't say squashed. Basically, we are fucked.
Excuse foul language, it is the earthquake talking.

I know that there are millions(?) of disasters and this isn't very big on
an international scale but if you could somewhere - even Twitter - mention
my falling-to-bits city and where people can go to donate (it is here - ) it would be awesome.  AWESOME.

I am sorry to bother you. I know you are busy and important. Like Hugh Grant
but without the embarrassing hooker incident and floppy hair.  Unless there
is an embarrassing hooker incident I don't know about.

Also, I am drunk. Probably I should have mentioned that earlier.  The
earthquake is a *bad influence.*


Thus ends my once-a-year bout of philanthropy.  I’m not sure what got into me. I blame the earthquake.

If I wake up as a puddle of blood tomorrow he’s going to feel really bad.

me:  I’m dying.

Victor:  You’re not dying.  You have a cold.

me:  I have hemorrhagic fever.

Victor:  Did you just make that up?

me:  No, I’m deadly serious.  First of all, I have a fever, and last night I had a nosebleed, and now my teeth are bleeding.

Victor:  I’m pretty sure teeth can’t bleed.

me:  My gums then.  Whatever.  The point is that I’m hemorrhaging internally.  Probably to death.

Victor:  I think you’re confusing hemorrhagic fever with gingivitis again.

me:  I don’t have gingivitis.

Victor:  Well you also don’t have hemorrhagic fever.

me:  It feels kind of like the Ebola Virus.  But like, totally worse.

Victor:  Where are all the forks?

me:  I think I’m bleeding out of my eyeballs.

Victor:  Try to do it over the sink.  Seriously, why don’t we ever have any clean forks?

me:  My nose just fell off.

Victor:  Why are all these dirty dishes in the washer?  Why would you go to the trouble of loading the dishwasher and not just start it?

me:  I can’t feel my legs.

Victor:  Great. Now we have no forks.  Way to go, hon.

me:  My heart just stopped and now I’m craving brains.

Victor:  And of course we don’t even have plastic forks.  If you use all the damn plastic forks you need to tell me so I can buy more.

me:  …braaaaaains…..

Victor:  How the fuck am I supposed to eat spaghetti with a spoon?

me:  *gurgle* * associated sounds of decomposition*

Victor:  Motherfucker.  So I guess I’ll have to go buy the forks since you’re too sick?

me:  …braaaaaaai-

Victor:  Fine. I’m taking your car.  I’ll be back in a bit.

me:  *sigh*

Disclaimer: Only the first few sentences of this post have actually happened.  The rest is a reenactment of what I assume will happen later this afternoon when Victor realizes that we don’t have any forks and I die of spite neglect whatever made those Nazi’s explode at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.  I’m pretty sure that was hemorrhagic fever too.

Comment of the day: Just be thankful it’s not *Hemorrhoidic* Fever.  Cleaning up exploding brains would be the LEAST of your worries. ~ moooooog35

We've all established that Sarah has an anteater

Yahoo’s most popular news story last week was (for real, y’all) breaking news about an ant invasion in my neighborhood.  I heard there was also some sort of earthquake somewhere, but it wasn’t in America so no one cares.  Anyway, Victor suggested a pet anteater might stem the coming invasion so I went on the net and stumbled on this “I’ve got a sick anteater” forum which is the most unintentionally hysterical thing I’ve seen all week.  A few of my favorite lines: 

sarah~ My anteater is getting extremly sick what should i do?

dj ~IT’S A WILD ING ANIMAL SO LEAVE IT IN THE WILD you arrogant human. You make me sick.

Me from where i live ~ Hi I would be intersted in buying any of your large birds or any animals that die.

Julii ~ OK, now that we’ve established Sarah has an anteater…MAYBE SOMEONE CAN HELP HER WITH HER QUESTION.

Bigshlong247~ hey guys so i have 3 anteaters going cheep, I;m seeling them at about 600 dollars a pop, sound good?

anteaterfan420 ~ Sorry to hear your anteater is sick. Sometimes it is their food. Have you tried ants?

“Have you tried ants?”


Fascinating side-note: The anteater salesman had a chick interested in buying one but she was a little leery.  Like you can’t trust a guy named “BigShlong” peddling $600 anteaters on the internet  Come on, people.


I’ve been asking the Houston Chronicle why Good Mom/Bad Mom never gets on the front page anymore and apparently they are not appreciative of titles about giving your child crotch concussions or arousing lude videos from Sesame Street.  I was going to apologize to my co-author Mindy for bringing down the tone of what’s supposed to be a sweet mommy blog and then I saw the post she just put up entitled “Orgy tomorrow night…Be there!” So basically we’re even and will never be on the front page again.


Remember the Party for the People at Blogher?  I’m hearing from a few chicks that they’re feeling intimidated about RSVPing which makes me sad because seriously, people?  I hid in the bathroom at the last party and I have extreme anxiety disorder.  If I can go, you can go.  And when you get there just walk up to me and say “I don’t know anybody.  Help me.” and I will.  Because Blogher is all about acceptance and sisterhood and getting some of Dooce’s hair in a bag and chicks who are all too weird to relate to people in real life so they turned to blogging instead.  Everyone there feels like an idiot and secretly is terrified and sick to their stomach.  Come and be sick with us.  

PS.  Free booze while it lasts

Comment of the day:   I heard that if you sprinkle Dooce’s hair in the keyboard of your laptop you will win a Blogger’s Choice award within 2 years.   Within 1 if you have ROOTS. ~ Deb on the Rocks

I both sicken and amuse myself.

 What I just heard on the radio: “…and as of today over a million shoes have been donated to Feed the Children in Darfur.”

Me to myself:  The hell?  Why are we feeding shoes to children?  Oh waaaait.  Now I get it.  Ha!  I should blog this.  I should totally find the sound bite for this commercial and say something about how “these barefoot kids wouldn’t have this problem if they’d just quit eating their shoes”.  ‘Cause there is nothing funnier than a slapstick misunderstanding about starving, barefoot African children.  

I bet there will be a lot of funny people with me when I get to hell.


The comment(s) of the day:

 You know Dianne Rehm on NPR? I had this ex-boyfriend who was all, “Why the hell is her voice all fucked up? Why can’t she talk right.”  Then we found out she has some sort of horrible throat disease that she has overcome in order to do radio broadcasting.  To which I said, “Why don’t you go kick a puppy and kill a kitten, now?” ~Law School Hot Mama

You know, it’s all about perspective.  Which is like the similar relief effort the Bush administration is trying to push through to offer free AIDS vaccines with pancake batter. ~furiousball

That’s like that line in the song “Fly Like an Eagle” saying “I want to shoe the children with no shoes on their feet”.  Every time I hear it I comment to whomever I’m with “That’s awful. Why would they want to shoot children with no shoes?”.  Everyone ignores me. Why? ~Lindsay