Category Archives: weekly reruns

My washing machine is mainly used to remind me how bad I am at housekeeping.

I did a load of laundry but I forgot to put it in the dryer for a few days and I was afraid I would dry that mildewy smell into it so I ran the wash again but then I forgot to put it in the dryer again and it had only been a day but technically it had been wet for three days so I washed it again just to be safe and that was day before yesterday and I just remembered that the same load was still in the wash so I’m washing it again and now I’m pretty sure I’ve set a record for washing the same load of clothes in a row which is sort of impressive but also horrifying because at this point it’s starting to feel like my washing machine is being haunted by these clothes and by my own poor decisions.  Does anyone else ever do this?

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 BabyCared.  From them: “Here are BabyCared we help new parents and parents-to-be overcome frustration, pain, worry, guilt and stress from the time of planning through to pregnancy and life as a new parent.  Our personalized guides know exactly where you are in the journey because we’ve been there too.  Awful morning sickness?  BEEN THERE.  Don’t know how to pump and store your breast milk?  DONE THAT.”  You should check them out here.

Lily is all of us. Also we’re the person yelling at Lily. Also we might be the mud. Hard to say at this point.

I can’t stop watching this and every time I end up laughing until I cry as Hailey and I scream “LILY!” at each other and I think you need to watch it too:

View this post on Instagram

how many kids do y’all want?

A post shared by @ jokeyhoe on

You’re welcome.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

The-Oh-My-God-I-Love-October Edition

 

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 ORIGINAL SYN.  Afraid the world might be ending? Ever wonder what it might be like to live forever? Are you a woman over 30 who devoured The Hunger Games and was willing – NO, EAGER! – to fight to the death for Team Peta or Team Gale? If any or all of descriptors those apply, HOLY HELL DO WE HAVE THE BOOK FOR YOU. ORIGINAL SYN by Beth Kander is dystopian fiction with a twist, layering darkness and snarkiness and sharp social commentary. And yes, there are pretty people doing dangerous things. Seriously, y’all. Get addicted to this epic read before it’s your next Netflix bingeGet. It. Now.

Virtual reality is scarier than reality and I managed to mortify myself there just as much as real life.

This week Victor attempted to get me into gaming by buying an Oculus Go (a sort of stand-alone virtual reality goggle thing that you can play games on) and I have to admit that I was totally sucked in to all of the horror/mystery apps and promptly got lost in a bunch of VR haunted houses.  This was very entertaining to my family who recorded me making an ass of myself and who refused to play any of the horror games, mainly because they seemed to consist of me screaming in terror, flailing and falling over furniture and crawling on the floor to escape things that didn’t exist and that you can’t get away from because that’s not how virtual reality works.

What I have learned from my short time in virtual reality is that I have way too strong of an imagination and that if I’m playing a game where I’m being attacked by giant spiders and you sneak up behind me and tickle my arm I will punch you right in the ear and you will deserve it.

This morning I woke up Victor because I was playing a zombie game in bed and he was like “What are you doing?” and I was like, “DON’T DISTRACT ME.  I’M BEATING OFF A HORDE OF ZOMBIES AND I’M GOING FOR THE RECORD” and he was like, “Ew, phrasing” but I can’t be expected to catch double-entendres while I’m being attacked by the undead, Victor.   Also, I was playing multi-player and the game paired me up with some guy in Russia and I couldn’t really understand what he was saying but he kept waving at me with his gun and I was like, “Wow, this guy is really friendly” so I kept waving back but turns out that he was waving to tell me to turn around and fight because I was being eaten by zombies and then I logged off immediately out of sheer mortification.  Conclusion: I can’t even be cool in virtual reality, y’all.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 SUC-IT, because selfie sticks are annoying and pop sockets are so 2017. From them: “If you prefer to look like an Uber or Lyft driver with a giant phone mount in your car, well then we aren’t going to stop you but the SUC-IT will do all of the above with one single, sexy, removable device that you clip on to your phone. The SUC-IT suctions to just about any smooth surface you can find so you can take selfies, watch movies, use it on your boat, use for navigation in your car, and keep your phone from dropping.  And if you like forehead hickies then you can SUC-IT to your face (trust me, everyone tries it).”  Check them out here. Use promo code BLOGGESS10 for 10% off your first order!

“What would you choose to have squirt out of your finger?”

Hailey asked me what I’d choose to have squirt out of my finger on demand if I had the choice of any liquid and I thought vodka would be good but a bottle of vodka lasts me forever so instead I went with gasoline and Hailey said that would taste terrible but then I explained that I’d use it to never have to go to the gas station again.  Hailey chose hot fudge, which I’m not sure is technically a liquid but is still a very good choice.  Then I asked Victor what liquid he’d choose to have squirt out of his finger and almost before I’d finished the question he said, “Acid.  For sure.  I’d squirt acid out of my finger.”  And then I just stared at him for a bit because he answered that way too quickly but I think our choices probably say a lot about our personalities and this is one of the weirdest Rorschach test ever.

PS. I just changed my answer because I think that probably the best liquid to squirt out of your finger is blood because blood banks are always low and that way I could donate a ton of blood.  Victor just pointed out that my finger already squirts out blood on demand if I cut the tip off so it’s almost like I got my wish, except not really at all, Victor.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 Better Help.  Some issues in life are best solved with the help of a professional and there’s no shame in asking for that help.  BetterHelp is a great online counseling platform that provides unlimited access to a licensed counselor for less than the cost of in-person therapy.  Get matched with a counselor and start communicating via text, live chat, phone call or video within 24 hours. You should check them out here.

Happy Father (Figure) Day!

Today is Father’s Day and that can be complicated for people because fathers are complicated people.  I’m very lucky to have a wonderful father (and that Hailey does as well) but for a lot of people this day can be hard or bittersweet or lonely or just plain uncomfortable.  So if you are feeling too much today then I encourage you to change the day up.  Go out and honor father figures in your life.  Maybe they’re friends who’ve been there for you, or people you’ve seen care for others in inspiring ways or even heroes you’ve never even met but who helped to make you who you are.  Honor the things you’ve done to help others grow and become better people.  Sometimes the best fathers aren’t even fathers at all.

And that’s sort of amazing.

Thank you to all who inspire, whether you are a father or not.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 WHO GIVES A CRAP.  No, really. Do you have the kind of bottom that deserves the best? Of course you do. That’s why you should start wiping with Who Gives  A Crap, this week’s wrap up sponsor. They make super soft toilet paper, that just so happens to do good too. They donate 50% of profits to help build toilets for the 2.3 billion people living without one and all of their products are made without trees. Good for the world, great for your bum. Click here and use the discount code BLOGGESS to get $10 off your first purchase.

Happy birthday to you! Yes, you.

Happy birthday!

Is it your birthday?  I KNOW BECAUSE I AM PSYCHIC.

Is it not your birthday?  Yes it is.  You are wrong.  Because I SUCK at remembering birthdays and have even forgotten my own so I decided that today is everyone’s birthday.  If you want to go up a year you are a year older.  If you want to go down 10 years that’s fine too.  These are the rules of Universal Birthday Day.

And what do you get for your birthday?  You get something lovely and it’s entirely up to you what that thing is.  Go take a hot bath and listen to true crime podcasts.  Go buy a bunch of facial masks and oils and give yourself a spa day.  Go buy that thing you’ve been wanting but haven’t been able to justify.  Sit in the grass and read an amazing book.  Binge-watch Doctor Who.  Go to the movies.  Call the person who makes you laugh.  Forgive yourself for that thing you’ve been feeling bad about.  Dress your pets up in costumes and have a small parade.  Snuggle with rescue animals at a no-kill shelter.  Have a pillow fight.  Learn a new hobby.  Eat an ice cream cake.  Go to the library.  Pull out the slip-and-slide.  Have a whipped cream fight.  Take a nap with your pets.  DO WHATEVER YOU WANT BECAUSE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY!

And that means it’s my birthday too so I am going to finish this post and then give away presents because that makes me happy.  So leave me a comment telling me what wonderful thing you’re going to do for yourself for your birthday and I’ll randomly email some of you gift certificates for books or bath bombs or whatever strange thing makes your heart sing.

Happy birthday, y’all.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 StoryWorth Bookswhich I’m actually a huge fan of and have bought for both of my parents.  From them: Still looking for a meaningful Father’s Day gift? StoryWorth is the perfect last minute gift. Each week, we’ll email him a question about his life – asking him about his favorite memory of his grandparents, or whether he’s ever pulled any great pranks. All he has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, his stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  You should check it out here.

For real though, someone get to work on those fruit roll-up sleeves.

Victor asked if I’d go with him to a party where I know no one and I laughed but turns out he was serious and I felt really bad for him but I don’t even go to parties that are for me but he really wanted to go so I told him I’d go but only if I could wear a t-shirt I made that says “HERE COMES HEPATITIS” on the front so people would avoid me and he was against that because I guess he has something against hepatitis and I do too because hepatitis killed my grandmother but that’s exactly why I made the shirt.

And also if people do talk to me I have an automatic conversation starter about the importance of hand-washing and clean needles and not inviting me to parties.  And Victor said that I couldn’t wear the shirt because I don’t have hepatitis but I think that’s short-sighted because tons of people have hepatitis and don’t know it and I just finished tuberculosis treatment so it seems like hepatitis is the next logical step with my luck.  Victor says faking hepatitis is not really acceptable at parties and I get that but “HERE COMES CRIPPLING INTROVERSION” seems like it would just attract others like me who would be like, “OMG ME TOO” and that would be a relief for a half-second but then we’d be all stuck together and none of us can carry on a proper conversation without blurting out inappropriate nonsense and we’d all rather be home anyway.  Honestly, the only thing that would make it okay is if the shirt had a kangaroo pocket you could stick a kitten in and when it got weird we just pull out our kittens and relax because we could just talk to the kitten instead of each other.  Someone invent that.

(Also it needs a hidden flask in the boob section and sleeves that are made of fruit rolls-ups so I can eat them in case I get too hot and/or peckish.)

PS. Victor just read this post and agrees that I should not go to the party. Whoop!  This blog is better than hepatitis.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 StoryWorth Bookswhich I’m actually a huge fan of and have bought for both of my parents.  From them: Still looking for a meaningful Father’s Day gift? StoryWorth is the perfect last minute gift. Each week, we’ll email him a question about his life – asking him about his favorite memory of his grandparents, or whether he’s ever pulled any great pranks. All he has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, his stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  You should check it out here.

You like me. Even when I don’t like myself.

This weekend I was at the 10th annual Mom 2.0 Summit and (as usual) it was wonderful and filled with fantastic people and also terrifying anxiety attacks.  I spent a lot of time hiding in my room but I did speak with these wonderful women about Imposter Syndrome.

Laura Mayes, Katherine Center, Karen Walrond and me. I’ve loved them for more than 10 years and we have never stabbed each other. Squad goals.

And I had a panic attack before the panel and small anxiety attacks during it and I babbled and I brought a sack of hair to wear because I get sweaty when I’m scared and my hair is too thin so I needed more hair to soak up the sweat so I wore a fake hair head band but then defeated the whole purpose of having fake hair by pulling it off numerous times in the panel to show how it works and I doubted everything I said and I felt like a fraud even being up there but that really just proves how well-suited I was to the topic.

Then I hated myself for a bit in my room until it was time to go to the Iris Awards but I didn’t have anyone there who could zip me up so I had to wander the halls holding my dress up in front of me until a friend took pity on me.  But then I won an award for most entertaining content!  And I was utterly unprepared as I’d spent the day feeling terrible about myself so when I got onstage I cried a little and I couldn’t think of what to say so I used the moment to apologize to the women whose boob I’d accidentally grabbed a few minutes earlier when I was pointing behind me and her boob walked into my hand and I yelled “This one’s for you, lady!” as I thrust my trophy into the air.  And then I stole a bottle of champagne and went back to my room to stop shaking but there wasn’t anyone there to unzip me so I tried to pull the dress off over my head and it got stuck on my boobs and I couldn’t breathe and I thought it would be totally like me to die with my dress over my head, suffocated by my own front-meat and then I panicked and hulked out and ripped the zipper entirely.  So, if I have a brand I definitely stuck to it fully.

(Picture by the always wonderful Wendi Aarons.)

And the next morning in the airport I thought that maybe this award is a sign that I need to stop feeling so terrible about myself and maybe have a little more confidence and stop listening to my self-loathing brain, and then they called for my group number and I stood up quickly but my purse strap was caught on the chair handle and so it slammed me back into my seat so violently I involuntarily farted and everyone stared at me because it looked like I’d been tackled by a ghost. And after my breath came back I just loudly said, “Wrong group number” so they’d look away.  And as I sat there and pretended that I was in the next group I thought that maybe being body-checked by my own purse was probably a sign too because honestly you can’t fix Imposter Syndrome by just winning an award and it was as if the universe was like, “Take a seat, lady.  Literally.  Because you’re still totally fucking broken.”

And I am, but also I’m okay.  I’m both.  And that’s what makes me me.

PS.  Thank you for believing in me when I don’t believe in myself.  You don’t know how may times you’ve saved me…from me.

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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!

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 StoryWorth.  “This year, give Mom a StoryWorth Book to preserve her stories. Each week, we’ll email her a question about her life – asking her to recount her favorite memory of her grandparents, the best advice she ever got, etc. All she has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, her stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  I did this for my dad last year and it’s been fantastic to read all of his stories that might have been lost otherwise.  I highly recommend it and its super on sale now.

 

 

Bloggess Book Club

You know how everyday I share the weirdest thing Amazon recommended to me on twitter?  Well yesterday it was a choose-your-own-adventure book called YOU ARE A KITTEN! where you’re a kitten named Holden Catfield who grows so large you crush the earth.  But then Amazon was like, “Hang on…if you liked YOU ARE A KITTEN! then you’ll love OCEAN OF LARD, a choose-your-own-mindfuck book that could not possibly be safe for work.  And then Amazon was like, “BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE” because then it told me I should “look inside The Haunted Vagina” and that seemed like dubious advice but I totally did it because how often do you get that sort of an offer?  Answer: Three times so far.

But then I totally bought it because HOW COULD I NOT and now Amazon is like, “I TOLD YOU SO.  Hey, how about these?”

And that’s why I’m totally started a book club because then these books will be a business expense and I can put it on my business card and Victor won’t wake up and yell, “WHY IS THERE A HAUNTED VAGINA ON THE CREDIT CARD?  I’m cutting off your computer access after 10 pm.”

First book of the Bloggess Book Club: The Haunted Vagina.

The first rule of Bloggess Book Club is that there are no rules because I like chaos.  Come back here when you’ve read the book and we’ll discuss it in the comments.  Or just pretend you’ve read the book and drink a lot, which is how the best book clubs go.  I think.  I’ve never actually been invited to be in one before.  Feel free to add your own rules as you go.

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And on an entirely different subject this isn’t Sunday but I’m doing a Sunday wrap-up because I don’t know how calendars work.  So pretend it’s Sunday.  Take your pants off.  The usual.

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 StoryWorth.  “This year, give Mom a StoryWorth Book to preserve her stories. Each week, we’ll email her a question about her life – asking her to recount her favorite memory of her grandparents, the best advice she ever got, etc. All she has to do is reply with a story, which is forwarded to you and any other family members you invite. At the end of the year, her stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book your family will cherish!”  I actually did this for my dad last year and it’s been fantastic to read all of his stories that might have been lost otherwise.  I highly recommend it and its super on sale now.

 

 

Scariest movie ever.

Today is Monday but it’s Sunday here because I was in Vegas (more on that later) so I missed the Sunday wrap-up so congratulations – it’s Sunday again!  Go home and binge watch something.

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I took H to see The Quiet Place because she doesn’t get scared at scary movies and I thought maybe it would be different if we saw one at the theater instead of at home.   She grabbed my hand once but she totally wasn’t the level of freaked-the-fuck-out that I was when I saw scary movies when I was a kid, which makes me a little sad because I LUUURV horror and she appreciates it but isn’t too impressed over all.  She seen The Shining, Babadook, Ouijia, IT…and she thought they were all okay but none of them scared her.  She doesn’t have nightmares.  WTF.

Is my kid broken?  Or are kids just less scared by stuff now?  I remember watching The Shining when I was her again on a tiny staticky tv through my fingers and I still get freaked out at the “Danny’s not here anymore” part.  At this point I’m thinking of getting out The Ring because that’s the scariest movie I ever saw but I’m open for suggestions.

What’s the scariest movie you ever saw in your life?

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And on an entirely different subject…

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

  • Mugs are half off today if you use the ZSPRINGDEALS code.  Get yourself a Beyonce to drink with, y’all.  Possibly it would be better as a shot glass but technically a mug holds more vodka and is less obvious during business meetings.  

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

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Leslie Handler’s new book, Rats, Mice and Other Things You Can’t Take to the Bank. You should check it out, partly because Leslie was incredibly understanding about Monday being Sunday but also because it’s a great book.  AND because all author profits are being donated to the National Alliance on Mental Health (NAMI) so by buying the book or donating here you’ll be helping end the stigma against mental illness.  It is clever and kooky and you should check her out right now because she’s good people.