Category Archives: Random Crap

Do you want to hear a ghost story?

In case you don’t follow me on twitter, you need to know what happened this weekend in case I suddenly turn up dead.  If the embed doesn’t work then click here for the story.


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There was a bear attack in my house. In that a bear was attacked in my house.

Almost every day on twitter I share the most baffling thing Amazon recommended that day and this one has come up several times:

It’s a desiccated 6 and a half foot teddy bear corpse that seems to have been in a hit and run and then dried out in the sun.  I assumed it was some sort of sleeping bag that also suffocates you but turns out it’s just the skin and you’re supposed to fill it yourself, which will probably not make me very popular at Build-a-Bear.  Personally though I thought it would make a great sleeping bag and you could use the face as a sleeping mask that might also suffocate you doing the night.

It’s goddam ridiculous so of course I immediately bought it to surprise my family.

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My family doesn’t understand whimsy. Part 1.

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Part 2. Why does it have it have camel toe?

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Sadly, after so many years of living with me they seem to be immune to this level of horror/whimsy:

I’m not sure what to do with it now but I think it would make an excellent laundry bag for heavy procrastinators or a very fluffy carry-on suitcase for long trips.

UPDATE:  HANG ON, Y’ALL.  I think I just got a bear skin rug for under $50.

Ferris Mewler is totally impressed. Or embarrassed for me. Hard to tell.

I suspect my body is trying to do a murder on me and I don’t appreciate it.

So.

Yesterday I felt a bit gross and headachey but I’ve had a cold for a week so I thought I was just normal sick and maybe I just needed to eat something, but then at dinner I ordered something but before it came I started feeling hot and cold and wrong and terrible and that level of nauseous where you feel like you should throw up but you don’t want to throw up because you know you won’t stop throwing up.  This was all accompanied by a terrible sense of dread but probably because that’s what you’re supposed to feel like when you realize you’re about to get violently sick in public.

I walked to the restaurant bathroom and made it almost halfway to the stall before I found myself falling to the ground and I sat up against the wall for a few seconds wondering what was happening to me and then next thing I knew I woke up and I had blood in my mouth and I’d somehow rolled myself into one of the stalls (which was thankfully empty because I can’t imagine how horrifying it would be to see an unconscious stranger wriggle under your stall door while you’re pooping).

I texted “help” to Victor and then crawled outside to the lobby and he and Hailey took me to the Emergency Room where I spent hours with a nausea that three rounds of anti nausea IVs didn’t touch, chest pains, dizziness, faintness and a very ouchy tongue that I apparently tried to bite through while unconscious.  After X-rays and blood work and an EKG and CT scans came back clear the doctor said she had no idea what was wrong with me and sent me home.

I still feel weak and off and wrong, but after sleeping most of the day I realized that I’ve felt this way before…after a panic attack.

Panic attacks and anxiety attacks aren’t the same thing although we tend to use the words interchangeably, but anyone who has had a massive panic attack knows the difference.  I have anxiety attacks a lot.  It’s a sense of dread coupled with racing thoughts and terror.  They suck and can be debilitating but you usually can recognize them once you’ve had a few.  You can calm yourself down with breathing tools or meds and eventually they pass.

Panic attacks are much more physical.  If an anxiety attack is like being punched in the face a panic attack is more like being  mauled by wild dogs who also have switchblades for some reason.  The symptoms are different for everyone, which makes it even more confusing.  Severe stomach distress, heart pain, fainting, the feeling that you are definitely going to die and very soon.  About 10 years ago I ended up in the ER thinking I was definitely having a heart attack but it was a panic attack.  I think yesterday was the same thing.

In a way it’s reassuring, having an answer for something that otherwise makes no sense.  In other ways it’s scarier than ever, knowing that my brain can mimic murdering me so strongly it baffles everyone.  I feel lucky knowing that I’m probably okay in spite of a really terrifying night.  I feel guilty for scaring my family and for costing us $2k in ER bills that basically showed how crazy everyone already knows I am.

If this happened to anyone else I’d tell them that they’re going to be okay and that they did what they should have and that it’s not their fault and that everyone deals with medical bullshit.  I don’t know why it’s always so much harder to tell yourself the things you so easily believe for others.  But if I write it maybe I’ll believe it.  Maybe you’ll believe it too.

This is where I was going to put a picture of my CT scan for the most introspective selfie ever but I’m looking through my paperwork and apparently they just sent digital copies to my doctor so basically this was the most overpriced photoshoot ever.  Instead just imagine a picture of a brain with “WHY ARE YOU EVEN LIKE THIS?” written on top of it.

Humbled. Maybe too humbled.

I don’t often get recognized in public (partially because I don’t leave the house much but also because authors aren’t rockstars) but when I do it’s often very sweet and somewhat awkward because I’m always so happy to give readers a hug but then I usually have to apologize for being so boring in real life.  So today when this young girl handed me my chicken nuggets at the drive thru and then was like, “Oh my God, are you?  YOU ARE!” I just sort of smiled at her and the guy working the window with her looked at me and she said “DO YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?” and he was like, “No.  Should I?” and she was like, “Seriously, Daniel?  What is your deal?” and then she apologized to me for Daniel and I was like, “No worries!  It’s sweet that you even recognized-” and then she turned to him and was like “Ms. Frizz, dude!” and he stared at her and she said, “From The Magic School Bus?” and he shrugged and she rolled her eyes and yelled, “MS. FRIZZLE IN THE HOUSE!

Thank you world, for always keeping me humble.

Ms. Frizzle out.

I could care less. I think.

I’m having a fight with a friend because she insists that if she doesn’t care about something then she could care less, but I say that if you don’t care about something you “could not care less” because you if you could care less then that  implies that you must care a little if you have the ability to care less about something.  I asked Victor his opinion and he said he could not care less which I think means that he agrees with me but honestly now I don’t even know how words work anymore.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!  (Except  technically  it’s the Monday wrap up because I was sick on Sunday and everything fell apart.

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

Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by The Uncurated Mama.   “This is for all of those mamas out there who look at perfectly curated social media pages with envy and look around at the Cheerios on the floor and pillow forts in the corner and decide not to capture it for the Instagram world because the dust bunnies in the corner make you look bad. The mamas who are getting by with more microwaved dinners, sticky fingers, and over-booked calendars than you’d like to admit…this is for us. I got you!”  If you’re a mom you should check it out.  I recommend starting here.

I sort of want to take this class just to see if I know myself as much as I think I do but I’m not sure I could take failing myself. Literally.

You know when you’re in college and you don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re going to be and you sort of hate yourself and you switch from an English major to Journalism because the guys in your creative writing classes keep telling you that your writing is “too feminine” and “esoteric” and you start to realize that no one will ever like or understand your weird little voice?

And then, decades later, you see this class listing at the very college where you once struggled.

And suddenly you realize that maybe everything happened just the way it was supposed to.

And that life is very, very strange.

 

Falcon sex hats

Red Scharlach tweeted this out yesterday:

…and then about a billion people forwarded it to me and were like, “THIS MADE ME THINK OF YOU” and that’s concerning because other people get “I saw the sunrise and thought of you” but I’ve managed to corner the market on raptor jizz hats. ( Also, spellcheck was like “Did you mean ‘raptor jazz hats’?” and no, spellcheck.  You’re not helping.)

So I felt weird about it for a second and then immediately decided to celebrate the fact that you guys know me so well because honestly, this shit is amazing.  First off, it’s a hat that comes with a bird.  Possibly two.  Or more.  I don’t know how falcon orgies happen.  And instead of it being taxidermied like old fashioned bird hats the bird is still alive and I can stop paying the exterminator because the hat raptors will eat all the mice in my house.  And possibly by dog.  Unless I get her a jizz hat too.  Then we can match and honestly, we both have a face for hats so this works well.  Plus, if I’m collecting falcon sperm I can use that to make more falcons.  This hat pays for itself.  In falcons.

UPDATED:  OH HANG ON.

I thought the falcons were having sex on hats because they were exhibitionists and maybe they weren’t good at aiming so the hat caught anything “extra” but I just watched the video and turns out the hat is a fake lady-garden that the bird masturbates into while the hat wearer makes sexy falcon noises and this is a sentence I never thought I’d write but there it is.  

 

Babies are the worst kind of birds.

So cupid is like the mascot of Valentine’s Day but basically it’s a baby, right?  At first I thought it was an angel which would be sort of sweet but ultimately questionable because that means the ghost of a dead baby is making you want to have sex with people and that’s weird.

Then I did some research and turns out that cupid is not an angel but is instead a God of Erotic Love (who also happens to be a baby for some reason?) and I guess it’s because sex makes babies but it still doesn’t make sense because babies are the worst and now they have wings?  Have you met babies?  They shit everywhere and they’re always barfing.  The only thing worse is if you gave it a weapon, WHICH SOMEONE DID.

I explained all of this to Victor and he just stared at me but probably because he just realized that he’s only in love with me because he got shot by some invisible aeronautic toddler.

PS. I waited until after Valentine’s Day to post this because I know some of you love it and I don’t want to shit all over it when you’re enjoying it.  Unlike certain flying babies.  Just saying.

Unraveled

Hailey started knitting a few weeks ago and she told me that she wanted to teach me how because it helps with anxiety and also because I keep telling her the cats need knitted hats.  Turns out she’s really good at it but I sort of suck, partly because I drop a lot of stitches but also because I get into the rhythm of it and don’t want to stop and that’s how I ended up with a scarf that is almost as long as me in spite of the fact that it’s Texas and no one here ever needs scarfs.

Hailey kept trying to help me, nicely pointing out that I’d missed a lot of stitches, that I left big holes in it and that giant knots and loose threads were hanging out of it all over.  “It’s really nice,” she said.  “But…it got weird.”

Victor walked by.  “Wow.  That scarf looks like it’s seen things.”

Hailey tried to tie up yarn that had come unraveled at the ends.  “It’s come undone.”

And they weren’t wrong.

But somehow it fit me.  Raggedy and weird and strange.  It’s come undone but honestly, who hasn’t?

But it’s soft.  It’s warm.  It’s comforting and nice even when it’s falling apart.  “This scarf is perfectly me,” I explained.

And they both looked at it with new eyes.

“It’s…artistic,” Hailey said.

“It’s certainly…unique,” Victor said.

And it is.

Also, I totally made hats for the cats and it was awesome but then I texted the pictures to myself so that I could put them on my blog and I got one of the numbers wrong so I ended up texting a stranger pictures of me and my cats in clothes I knitted and I don’t know if I should apologize or if I have a new best friend.

Trust me. He totally loves it.

Sassy beret.

Booksgiving, part 4!

Four years ago this very day I decided to give away 30 copies of my books to people who maybe hadn’t been able to pick one up yet.  I gave them out quite quickly but then lots of other people were like, “I WANT TO GIVE BOOKS TO PEOPLE” and suddenly people were buying each other books and sharing their favorites and adding to their lists of what to read and listening to others about what book they really HAD to read this year and it was fucking incredible.  Honestly the only thing that would make it better would be if we all had otters to bathe, but I can’t provide otters so it’s BYODO.  (Bring Your Own Dirty Otter)  That gives us something to aim for in the future, I guess.

We called the whole thing “Booksgiving” and have celebrated it every year since and this year is no exception.  SO.  Here’s what you do if you want a book.  Make a brand new wishlist with the one book that you want (and make sure that you assign a shipping address to it because otherwise it won’t work) and leave a link in the comments.  I’ll pop in and send a copy of Furiously Happy, or Let’s Pretend This Never Happened or YOU ARE HERE: An Owner’s Manual for Dangerous Minds to 30 lucky people.

If you’ve already read all of those then feel free to chose a different book.  Depending on how much I have left (the books are different prices) I’ll try to send other books as well.

The only rule is ONE BOOK PER PERSON ONLY ON YOUR LIST, with the exception being if you have a child and want to add a book for them too.

If you want to share your favorite book you’ve read recently in the comments that would be awesome.  Or if you wrote a book and want to pimp it out then go ahead.  And if you want to buy a book anonymously for a stranger just check through the comments.  A few books I’ve really loved this month are My Sister, the Serial Killer, The Woman Inside: A Novel, and The Hazel Wood.

Click here for a quick run-down of how to make a new wishlist (Don’t forget the step about adding your address to this specific wishlist!) and when you’re done just leave a comment with a link to your wishlist.  (If you don’t live in America just add that info in the comment so it’s easier to search for people in your area).  Make sure that the book you select is available for Prime shipping and isn’t from a 3rd party seller or a used bookstore because those can’t be shipped to wish lists.

If you decide to gift someone with a book just find a wishlist that has a book on it and buy it.  When you check out select the person’s wishlist address or registry address (You’ll just see their name and city, but not a whole address for privacy reasons).  If they don’t have an address they forgot to add it so delete the book from your cart and try another.

Now, let’s go book shopping!  (PS. This is the best pick-up line in the history of the world.)