The Bloggess

So you know how I put together tiny wooden models when my anxiety is really high so basically I’m surrounded by tiny houses?  I’ve pretty much run out of kits but then I found some in Europe and it was awesome except that everything is metric and I obviously don’t understand metric because I thought I bought two tiny fortune-teller wagons but I put them together and turns out one of them is tiny and adorable:

And the other one is fucking enormous.

Like, it’s so big that I tried to tie it to Dorothy Barker so she could pull it around the kitchen like that Chuckwagon dog food commercial from the 80’s but she super wasn’t into it so instead I decided to put an old taxidermied chipmunk in it but the chipmunk was nailed to an old board so I had to use a knife to pry it loose and then I cut myself and Victor got mad because I was using the good knife on a dead animal but technically I’m using the good knife on a dead animal every time I cut up meat so frankly I think this just proves that I need my own private box of knives.

But I did manage to destroy several pieces of clothing in order to cover the blood stains to make the perfect fortune-telling chipmunk.

I don’t have an ending to this story but I have this, which is even better:

 

You know how Amazon recommends stuff to you based on stuff you’ve bought or liked?  Well, here are a few things Amazon thought I’d like this month:

A pillow with the words “HORSE PENIS” on it.

It comes in eight different  colors and on the bottom of the pillow it says: “The words ‘horse penis’ upon a pillow.  Ten letters.”  Even more confusingly, the amazon description says “Dog Penis on a pillow, it makes a great gift” and “Defined as ‘it’s a dog penis'”.  So am I getting a dog penis on a pillow or a horse penis on a pillow?

Answer:  Neither.  Although now that I think about it it would be pretty fun to be like, “Hand me that horse penis.  I need to get comfortable.”

I am my own worse enemy.

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Spider doll who also has nipples for some reason.

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Ridiculously enormous sock monkey.  From the description: Now you can say “My sock monkey is bigger than your sock monkey.”

I mean, finally.

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Sun-dried Googley eyed porcupine blowfish.  “ONLY 7 LEFT IN STOCK.  ORDER SOON.”

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So this is what $300 worth of flesh-eating larvae looks like.

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Liver in a pickle jar.  Description: “This plastic specimen jar contains a Biolike2 model of a cirrhotic liver floating beside a pickle”

Customers who viewed the pickled liver also viewed the cat butthole purse, lactating incense burner (That’s not how smoke works?) and this thing that is supposedly a soft plush pillow but is clearly a crudely drawn penis frosted like a birthday cake.

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Sexy Princess Leia costume, which I appreciate just for this review alone.  (Strong nipple theme emerging here.)

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Octopus specimen.  With “Octopus” written on it in case you don’t know what an octopus is?

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Creamed Possum.

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12 foot beach ball.  “It’s just like a classic beach ball, only gianter.”

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Slow Farts.  “More than 25 farting sloth coloring pages.”

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Pet ponytail.

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Pants that make you look like you shit yourself.  “ONLY ONE LEFT IN STOCK.”

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Fake human skin for practicing face tattoos.  Or for making a Silence of the Lambs style skin jacket.  No judgement.

Okay, some judgement.

PS. As always, I’m using affiliate links that help fund the annual James Garfield Miracle so if you do end up buying a bunch of shit pants or human skin or horse penises you’re totally buying them for children.

That came out wrong but you know what I mean.

I bought a lipstick at the drugstore but when I got to the car to try it on I couldn’t  pull the lid off so I tried using my teeth but there were two guys sitting in a truck next to me and one of them was staring at me weirdly so I rolled down the window and explained, “I can’t open my lipstick,” and he was like, “Oh.  Want me to try?” and then I felt like I was breaking feminism by letting a man open lipstick for me but I also wanted lipstick so I let him try but then he couldn’t open it either and I yelled, “I GUESS THE PATRIARCHY CAN’T FIX EVERYTHING HUH?” (but only in my mind) and the guy was like, “I think this is busted.  You should go get another one” and then his friend got out of the car and was like, “Dude, what are you doing?” and he tried to explain and the other guy laughed at us and took the lipstick but he couldn’t pull the lid off either and then he was like, “DUDE, THIS SHIT’S BUSTED” and the other guy was like, “YEAH WE ALREADY KNOW THAT, KEVIN” and he rolled his eyes at me like:

…and then the cashier from the store walked out toward his car and the two guys yelled, “HEY DUDE, THIS LIPSTICK IS BROKEN” and the cashier looked baffled at being confronted by a parking-lot gang of angry makeup failures who’d been bested by lipstick, and the cashier was like, “May I?” and Kevin handed it to him and said, “Good luck, buddy” but then the guy easily opened it because it was apparently a screw top (?!) and he looked at us all like we were insane, and the two truck guys stared at each other for a hot second and then they started hooting and pointing at each other for being shown up by the cashier and then I took my lipstick back and drove away.

That was the longest run-on sentence I’ve written all day and all that to say, how many men does it take to unscrew a lipstick?

Three.  It takes three.

Unrelated:

View this post on Instagram

Saw a guy walking a tiny dog in my neighborhood park and walked closer to say hi to it and realized the tiny dog was actually an angry venomous water moccasin and now I can never go back to the park again.

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on Mar 13, 2018 at 10:53am PDT

I’m having a weird day, y’all.

A series of unrelated things to catch you up on:

1. Apparently there was thing years ago where people replaced the vowels in their names with “oodle” and I guess I missed it but from now on please refer to me as Joodle-Noodle.

2. This happened on twitter and when I wrote the second tweet I thought “Wow,  that would be a great thing to put on my tombstone”…

And actually now I’m even more convinced I want it on my tombstone because it’s both poetic and horrible at the same time and it makes terrible but imaginative people like us accidently laugh in the middle of a graveyard and then feel bad for laughing and then laugh even harder because of the awkwardness and then run away and that sort of sums up my whole life.

3.  OPERATION DESTROY MY HOUSE AND SANITY is still going strong.  It only took a week of destruction and severe water damage for me to finally achieve the minimalist look that everyone on instagram seems to so easily have:

4.  I forgot what four was.

In the last week a series of weird things happened and it’s hard to for me to write right now because there are a million (4) people in my house tearing out cabinets and walls because of the flood damage so I just put it on instagram but people were still very confused so I’m taking a second to update you on how I defended my house from snakes with penises.

First, this from a week ago:

View this post on Instagram

Jesus. Christ. You guys.

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on Feb 28, 2018 at 10:02am PST

Later that day a lovely person on twitter was like, “Hey!  You got the bag of dicks!  They were a gift, not a threat.”  (And in fairness they are lovely to squeeze, especially when you’re silently glaring at some dude who is being a total asshole.  Also, they don’t have that weird chemical stink like most of them do, which is nice.  (The squishy toys, I mean.  Not penises.)  And they were so awesome that I stuffed a handful of them in my purse to give to a friend, but before I saw her this happened…

(Trigger warning: If you have a fear of danger noodles just skip to the caption.)

View this post on Instagram

I just used my purse to chase this snake out of the house but I didn’t kill it and I need you to tell me it’s not poisonous so I don’t regret not using the shovel. Thanks. Also, a penis fell out of my purse when I was lightly whacking it and now my child has questions. JOIN THE CLUB, KID.

A post shared by Jenny Lawson (@thebloggess) on Mar 5, 2018 at 5:32pm PST

And then I clarified in the comments that it was very small and nonaggressive.  And then I had to clarify again that I was referring to the snake and not the penis.  And also that I was lightly whacking the snake, not the penis.  And if I’m being honest it was actually several penises that I left behind me in a trail as I chased it out through the garage because my purse was stuffed with them and it was open and I was dropping shit out of it while I was whacking, like I was Hansel & Gretel if Hansel and Gretel used adorable severed penises instead of breadcrumbs.

PS. A breakdown of responses to my Instagram video: 70% said it was a helpful snake that would kill pests. 30% were like, “BURN THE HOUSE TO THE FOUNDATION AND SALT THE EARTH SO NOTHING EVER GROWS AGAIN. 1% wanted me to adopt the snake, and if I did I would have named it ‘Hisstopher Columbus’ because he didn’t seem to give a shit that SOMEONE ALREADY LIVES HERE, DUDE. Almost everyone thought I’d buried the lede and just wanted to know more about the penises.  You are welcome.

PPS. Apparently they’re called dindings and you can buy them here.

PPPS. Hisstopher Columbus is fine and I saw him this morning in the yard but he was next to the tree that always has that owl in it and now I’m afraid for it but I don’t want to pick it up so I just stood outside stomping my feet really loudly to scare it toward a safer part of the yard and my neighbor drove by and it totally looked like I thought I was pretending to be Godzilla and I wanted to explain that I was just trying to save Hisstopher Columbus from himself but I figured that would just make things worse.