This isn't a real post. As usual.

I’m still on tour and today I’m in Cincinnati.  Come see me?

It’s my first time in Cincinatti and I asked if I could go on WKRP to talk about the book but I was told that WKRP never really existed, which I think is code for “They don’t want you, Jenny.”  Also, now I can’t get the WKRP song out of my head.  And now, neither can you, probably.

But I did get one of my tv interviews back and so I’m sharing it here because you can only see my facial tic twice and that is a huge improvement from my first tour and so I need to show it off to someone.  Thank you for being that someone.

 

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My New Year's Resolution is to get you to stop asking about my New Year's Resolution.

Today I’m on book tour in Dayton.  Come see me?  Please?

While I’m away I’m leaving you with Golden-Oldies, aka reruns.  But they’re old enough that they’re almost new again.  Sort of.

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People keep asking me what my New Year’s resolutions are and I tell them that I don’t have any and then they get all pissy because they assume that I think I don’t need to change but it’s really just that I’m too bored with myself to invest any more time thinking about me, and also because “What are your new year’s resolutions?” is kind of code for “So tell me what you think is wrong with you.”

That’s why my new resolution for 2011 is to get into something so blatantly reprehensible that when 2012 comes I will have an obvious choice for what I need to give up next year and I won’t be sitting here trying to figure out which one of my many vices is the most obvious to everyone else.   And then I’ll be all “This year I’m going to shoot up less heroin!”  Or stop burning books.  Or stop burning kittens.  Or stop burning books about kittens.  I haven’t really decided yet.  Whichever thing seems more likely to have people remark about how brave I am, probably.

PS.  You never realize how many terrible life-choices are in front of you until you think about how nice it will be to tell people you’ve given them up.  This is probably why so many people are shooting up heroin right now.

PPS.  OMG.  I GOT IT.  This year I vow to start shooting up kittens with heroin.  It’s gonna be a brave, brave 2012.

UPDATED: As requested, I drew up some anti-kitten-heroin photocards that you could use to save money on birthday presents but no one bought any…

Click on the picture if you want one.

…so instead I made a whole different set of cards for people who want kittens to be on heroin…

Or you could really confuse people by giving them one of each.

But then it turns out that no one bought any of those either.  Conclusion:  Heroin-kitten awareness is at an all time low, probably because we don’t have a sexy spokesperson attached.  Someone contact Neil Patrick Harris.

Ferris Mewler, self-proclaimed Fabio of cats

Today I’m on book tour in Louisville.  Come see me?  Please?

And while I’m gone I’m celebrating here with reminders of the past, aka reruns.  YOU ARE WELCOME.

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Obligatory pictures of my cat:

Ferris Mewler: "Rowr."

Ferris  Mewler:  “I am trying to seduce you. Is it working?”

me:  “No. It’s not working. Because I’m married.  And you’re a *cat*.”

Ferris Mewler: “You’ll come around eventually.  I’m like a damn Adonis.”

me: “Please stop this.  You’re making us all uncomfortable.”

Ferris Mewler: “I am the Eric Northman of Cats.  Worship me.”

me: “You’re not allowed to watch True Blood anymore.”

"What the FUCK, lady?"

 

UPDATED:  Several of you are not big vampire fans and are confusing True Blood’s Eric Northman with South Park’s Eric Cartman.  Which is ridiculous, because why would my cat pretend to be a cartoon character?  That’s fucking ludicrous, y’all.

It's sort of uncanny. Plus, Ferris' fangs are real. AND he has six nipples. And one time he got into my rainy-day crafts drawer and was covered in glitter for *weeks*. My cat is totally the next sexy vampire.

Someone get my cat an agent.

Thank you!

EEEEEEEE.

That is the sound of a hamster being squeezed too tightly by a three-year-old.  It is also the sound I’m making after finding out that your tremendous support of the paperback version of my book (which came out last week) is now #5 on the NYT paperback list.  I am so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing community behind me who is willing to buy a book all over again just so they can read the bonus chapter.  Also, I have lots of great tour stories to tell you when the tour is finally over (Come see me?) but for now let me just say that the greatest part about touring is watching nervous people creep in alone but leave as groups of new friends.  I am so lucky to be a part of your bizarre tribe.

Picture of a few awesome people from last week's book tour. They smelled like cupcakes and magnificence.

And to thank you a tiny bit for all of  your bad-assness I’m giving away five autographed copies of the new book this week.  And if you already have one you can just sell it on eBay, or use it as a coaster, or give it to your newest friend to test how easily offended they are.  Just leave a comment and I’ll pick people before I leave again for the next leg of the tour.

PS.  For real.  Thank you.  We did this together.

It was on Wikipedia so it must be true.

Conversation in the car with my husband:

me:  I can’t understand you when you’re mumbling like the Hamburglar.

Victor: The Hamburglar didn’t mumble.  He said “Robble-Robble.”

me:  Yeah.  And that’s incoherent mumbling.

Victor:  No.  It’s him saying what he’s doing.  He’s robbing you.  Of hamburgers.

me:  Oh my God.

Victor:  You just now got that, didn’t you?

me:  I thought he was just saying nonsense words.  Why would he use “robble” as a verb?  Why wouldn’t he say “burgle, burgle“?  That way  it makes sense and also the word “burger” is almost in it.  That’s just basic marketing.

Victor:  Maybe because he’s not a burglar.  A burglar robs you when you’re not home.  A robber is more like a mugger.  More violent.

me:  Huh.  The Hamburglar was made of burgers, wasn’t he?  Doesn’t that make him a cannibal?

Victor:  No.  You’ve confused the Hamburglar with Mayor McCheese, haven’t you?  Classic error.  The Hamburglar was the only human in the group.

me: And Ronald McDonald.

Victor:  No.  Clowns aren’t human.

me:  Agree to disagree.

Victor:  I just never understood why Mayor McCheese was the Mayor but then sometimes he was also the arresting officer.  That seems like a conflict in judicial law.

me:  Right?!  And he carried around that big police stick to hit people with.  McDonald’s was kind of fucked up, now that I think about it.  And what the hell was Grimace?  A stain?

Victor:  He was a shake.

me:  A purple shake?

Victor:  And he was called “Grimace” because that’s what you do when you drink a shake too fast.  You grimace.

me:  It’s weird how much you’ve thought about this.

Victor:  It’s weird that you claim to be a writer and yet you don’t recognize “robble” as a verb.

me:  Hang on.  I’m looking all this up on the internet.  Oh, holy shitsnacks.

Victor: What?

me:  Prepare yourself.  “A large, purple character was first introduced in November 1971 as the “Evil Grimace”. In Grimace’s first two appearances, he was depicted with two pairs of arms with which to steal milkshakes.”

Victor:  SEE.  I KNEW MILKSHAKES WERE INVOLVED SOMEHOW.

me: Stop yelling.  Then in 1974, Grimace lost two of his arms and his evilness and became a simpleton whose brother might have been “the king of all Grimaces.”

Victor:  I totally want a t-shirt that says “KING OF ALL GRIMACES”.

me:  God, who doesn’t?  Apparently, Mayor McCheese was dropped from the line after he was sued by H.R. Pufnstuf for being too similar.  Hoy crap, this is like TMZ for puppets.

Victor:  You’re just making shit up now.

me:  It’s on the internet so it’s real.  OH!  And Officer Big Mac was the guy with the constable uniform.  He just looked like Mayor McCheese but they were totally different characters.  So that’s a relief, huh?

Victor:  I’ve been losing sleep over it.

me:  Also, apparently Ronald McDonald had a dog named “Sundae” who was extremely sarcastic and negative, spoke in a monotone, and hated ticks, adventures, and the Hamburglar, whom he referred to as “Bun-Head.”  And he was portrayed by that guy who played “Mini-Me” on Austin Powers.

Victor: I don’t believe any of this.

me:  It’s totally true and all part of the McDonald’s canon.  Ronald McDonald had an unmedicated, angry, depressive dog who I think was probably racist.  If burgers are classified as a race, that is.

Victor:  This is one of the strangest discussions we’ve ever had.

me:  No.  Not even close.

PS.  You are welcome, Victor.