Throwback Thursday: 2003

Photo: T Max

I met my husband on stage, but I fell in love with him online.  He had me at 

"James Dean...

smelling of whiskey and coke 

and some breakfast sausage."

AOL AIM INSTANT MESSENGER

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"...see because cloaking was a Romulan technology..."

Telling Joe about the online discussion I'm in, started by a dude who finds parallel between Star Trek TNG and Harry Potter. Mostly based on the Starfleet uniform colors and Hogwarts houses, the fun ideas being raised are, for example, that the Hogwarts green (Slytherin) aligns with the Romulans. I explained, "By that logic, a Slytherin must have originally charmed the Invisibility cloak---" That's as far as I got before Joe's eyebrows did the thing. 🚀

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I'd buy greeting cards from the Hallmark Fugelsang Collection.

I wrote some.

💝
Get in line early for the iRony collection for Capitalism Month
before they sell out.

Browse the Just Sayin' cards for the new year, perfect to send people you told to fuck off at Thanksgiving.

[The un-Valentine collection has been discontinued 
because everything is ruined.]
👉👈

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Throwback Thursday: 1974

I had this blue dress when I was four. I hated that dress so hard, I needed all five senses to hate it with, and maybe another half a sense I made up during a tantrum.

The color reminded me of something gag-reflexingly bad, but I don't remember what that was, exactly. I wonder if maybe I associated the sky blue hue with those "wedding almonds" that my grandma Maggie always had, for some reason, in a bowl in her house. Revolting, yet I had to keep checking to make sure I hated those almonds. For more information on me and my perpetual fatness, see chapters 18 thru 24.

My blue dress was made from stiff, unforgiving material, like it was originally meant for outdoor furniture or shower curtains. I bet if I burned it, that thing would simply melt.

The fabric felt unpleasant to the touch, but that was nothing compared to what it felt like against my skin. Especially around my back and shoulders, it felt like being tickled all day with Brillo pads. The collar scratched my neck.  So uncomfortable! 

Not only was I uncomfortable in literal sense, but I felt totally pantsless every time I had to wear that dress. It was so short! Even though I was only four, I did not approve of these underwear-showing dresses. My underwear were nobody's business. Such a fierce, serious little bambina.∎ 

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The verb you're looking for is EXACT.

VerifiedPolitics.com

You don't extract revenge. 

You exact revenge.

RELATED: 
A friendsent me a lead on a job: Editor of a thing. 
I'm a great Editor, of lots of different kinds of things.
Rate of pay? $12.50/hour. Do you want everyone to make fun of your content?
Because that's what's gonna happen if you think 
making it better 
is only worth 
$12.50 
an hour.

Just...whatever, at this point.

I'm going to Five Guys.

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Rape Culture Infographic

WomensMarchMN

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DONALD TRUMP: AMERICAN TRAGEDY

For decades, women had been risking their careers and reputations coming forward to tell their stories about being cornered and assaulted by Donald Trump, the tacky New York luxury real estate guy turned TV show host. When the Access Hollywood tape was made public in October 2016, Donald Trump was caught bragging about his self-appointed right to sexually assault any woman that he happened to find attractive. I was like, "People are seriously considering this clown? For PRESIDENT. Of. The United States of America. Well, you can kiss that "United" part goodbye, that's a fact." I got, "Oh, give him a chance." What. Knuckleheads.

This daft, unqualified Republican candidate simply scoffed away the seriousness of these accusations with his usual braggadocio. He appeared in public rolling his eyes and smirking, mocking and denigrating any and all, but especially women, who reported the facts. Any individual who spoke out against his habitual sexual misconduct became a "hater" spreading "fake news." Every crowd of protesters became paid actors or shills for the liberal agenda. Unbelievably, this clumsy tactic worked. He should be in court today, but he is, absurdly, in the oval office. With no experience at all and a cartoonish platform, this buffoon has become the leader of the free world. On a platform of what? There was hatred for Obama, the notion of a wall like something out of a Roadrunner cartoon, and in his own words, "I am very very rich" and "I married a beautiful piece of ass." 

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And now for the weather

It is currently "brrrrr" degrees, with a wind chill that makes it feel like "fuck this."

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Asking

Ya know, if I had like, $7000, my whole entire life would be different. I wonder what it was like centuries ago when there were patrons supporting artists. Should I finish The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer? I keep thinking magical thoughts. Like, "Maybe seven thousand people will give me a dollar." That's how it works, right, Amanda? I only read the first part. Okay, I only read the cover. At the bookstore and I didn't buy the book. I don't have any extra money. Maybe I'll hit the library, but I have the feeling that the big take-away is gonna be, "Start by being Amanda Fucking Palmer." I just wanna finish my first book and launch my Diary of a Low Budget Superhero blogcast. I know Amanda Palmer. I'm no Amanda Palmer.

Because we didn't have a lot when I was a kid, me 'n my family always just sort of had to roll up our sleeves and push forward anyway. When I found the Arthur Ashe quote, it sang to me, so I wrote it on a piece of paper and taped it to my wall. It's the one that goes, "Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can." It's basically what my mom always tried to tell us, only she used different words. But same thing. Be fierce, claw your way out. Eye of the tiger. But you guys, I'm so tired. The thing is, I'm getting too old for this perpetual hamster wheel. You get a small raise at work, same week you get hit with another increase on your health insurance that wipes out the raise and takes even more out of your check so you're worse off than before. Then you get a Christmas bonus and it's just about enough to cover the extra taxes you owe because of whatever. Pay off a bill finally that sucked up $50 every month, then the rent gets raised by $50 a month. You get an extra pay check in a month that happens to have three pay periods in it, your car dies, along with any hope of ever collecting any real savings. Repeat until exhaustion sets in and you go insane. Fuck everyone that says you just have to work harder. Fuck you, seriously.

I'm so tired.

Need a new laptop, need some software I'll never afford at the pace I'm going. Everything is sky high — rent, food, meds — and I don't understand how people are doing it. We don't even have kids, or a car, or even a hamster. I need new glasses. I can't see. I'm worried about myself, I'm worried about everybody. And I need more sleep than I used to need back in the days when I did the things. So tired, while hopes and dreams gather dust on the proverbial vine (EDIT: holy ballz, that metaphor doesn't work at all and I don't even care. Wow, that's shite. I'm leaving it in because why not, at this point. Is this thing even on? Is there anybody out there?) I dunno, you guys. I dunno what to do or how it all works anymore. It's all just a sour ambrosia of mid-40s angst and all my heroes are dead or settling out of court.∎

#FirstBookProblems #PodcastWoes #EyeOfTheTigerIsBloodshot #Declawed #HardTimes

Is there an art to asking?

Help get Michelle a new pair of glasses.

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"

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” 

Mae West 

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:: SIGNAL BOOST ::

Will Andrew Smales please check in? 

  It me! "lexikahn"! From the thing! 

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