The Lament of the Fancy Hamster

Several weeks back I was out on a date…with my five-year-old son, who is pretty much an excellent date because we always do whatever I want and there’s never that awkward moment where both of you reach for the check and you have to pretend like you actually want to pay for shit, but admittedly that’s mostly because we shoplift whenever possible.

First we went to Starbucks because I had gift cards and you can bet your sweet buns that my broke ass does not go to Starbucks unless someone else is paying for it…or maybe if it were a rioting/looting kind of situation but even then I would probably go to the jewelry store (higher black market resale value) or the bookstore (I am an enormous nerd) before I went to Starbucks but I guess if I got really thirsty after all the looting and rioting I would definitely go to Starbucks to loot some passion tea lemonade  and a couple of those petite vanilla bean scones or something because I am certainly not going to loot a small, independently owned coffee shop because, obviously, I have morals!

At Starbucks Bo had his usual, hot chocolate (where are we on needlessly abbreviating hot chocolate to HoCho ala FroYo? Let’s make it a thing!) and a heated croissant and I mine; iced americano, black. After Starbucks we decided to go to Uwajimaya because I thought it might be fun to look at live crabs and squid and origami sets and the dead eyes of so many Hello Kitties. But as we walked across the shopping center towards Uwajimaya we were sidetracked by Blue Sierra Pet Store!!! And it was the best thing EVER!!!!

It was basically like going to the Zoo except so much more awesome. Right when we walked in the first thing we see are BUNNIES! BUNNIES EVERYWHERE!!!! And as if that weren’t enough a nice young lady comes up and asks “Would you like to hold one of the bunnies?” and I’m like “FUCK YES, I WANNA HOLD ONE!” Except I didn’t say that, not out loud anyway but I said it with every vibrating cell in body. So within 12 seconds of walking into this place I was being handed adorable, fluffy bunnies….and I was HOME! After bunny fondling time was over (and admittedly I went back several more times because I had to try out ALL the bunnies…or at least the amiable ones that would have me) we went to look at the aquarium section wherein Bo loudly declared that everything we saw was either an electric eel or a “mutant megalodon shark” and while I am certain we did not see a mutant or even a non-mutant megalodon shark they legit had a motherfucking electric eel and I almost peed my pants! I was super excited about it….I think Bo was marginally unimpressed, which can happen sometimes when you meet your heroes and they don’t live up to your expectations.

What Bo WAS super excited about were the tarantulas. Like I said, this was several many weeks ago when he was super obsessed with this movie he found on Netflix (while surfing around unsupervised because, obviously, I am a horrible parent) called “Big Ass Spider”. Luckily he cannot read and I convinced him that the name of the movie was “Big Ol’ Spider”. The movie is one of those cheesy made-for-SyFy Channel type things like “Dino-Croc” or “Octoprechaun” (some say it’s half Leprechaun half octopus…others say it’s more of a 70/30 split), or “Vampodile” (clearly about a vampiric crocodile who is also GIANT and probably a robot, of course) or “The Hunt for the Mutant Weresquid” (which I would TOTALLY watch the shit out of if someone were to actually make) or (this is the last one, I swear) “Frankenweasel”. In any case, I watched this movie with Bo (despite my keen, irrational and downright psychotic fear of spiders) and it was pretty good. It had some gross but mostly cartoonish violence in it, what with the giant Black Widow rampaging through downtown L.A., stabbing people with its legs and ensnaring them in its sticky web, no language (that he doesn’t regularly hear at home), no nudity and it was actually pretty funny so I let him watch it and, predictably, it became the ONLY thing he wanted to watch for a solid 3 weeks. He became enthralled with spiders which led to my getting him a bunch of books on spiders which I then had to force myself to read to him. But through Bo’s infatuation I was able to relax a little on the spider issue; it became easier for me to look at pictures of spiders and my formerly unreasonable phobia was tempering…slightly.

Walking around the pet store and unwittingly wandering into one particular corner only to realize that you are actually surrounded by tarantulas was NOT making me feel all that reasonable regarding my phobia but I played it cool. I wanted to run the other way whilst doing that thing where all your limbs shake, you wildly flail your arms about your head clawing at your hair and skin, screaming “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”. But I did not do that. I lifted Bo up so he could see into all the little terrariums and check out all the spiders. He thought it was all pretty cool for about 3 minutes which is as long as he can sustain enthusiasm for any one thing.

After looking at the spiders I went back to the bunny area because I needed a fluffy bunny palate cleanser. Then it was on to the rodents and that’s where I saw this:

FANCY HAMPSTER

Sorry about the shitty picture. I did not have my picture-taking phone on me at the time, just my phone that can actually make calls….at least when I pay the bill.

As one might imagine, I got pretty excited when I saw this, but as I peered into the hamster enclosure all I saw was a regular hamster. There was literally NOTHING fancy about him (or her, I didn’t check). But honestly, how does one differentiate fancy hamsters from those that are non-fancy? This was a question I pondered well into that evening. Bottom line, when someone tells me a hamster is “fancy” there are a few things I expect to see so I made an example of what I think a “Fancy Hamster” should look like. See below:

The Fanciest of Hamsters

THIS, THIS IS WHAT I EXPECT when promised a “fancy hamster”! A hamster wearing a red, velvet cape, bowtie, monacle and top hat, sipping brandy and posing with his fancy walking stick and his prize-winning thoroughbred racehorse, Princess Butterscotch Mittenhaus III, next to an open box of Cohibas and a bottle of the world’s most expensive champagne while the library of the Hearst Castle! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!?!? I think not!

Undoubtedly, THAT is the fanciest of hamsters. They did not have any like this one at the pet store, presumably because he kept spilling his snifter of brandy every time he tried to take in onto his gilded hamster wheel and his miniature Cohibas and Armand de Brignac kept getting stolen from his cage and they could not afford to keep replacing them because Cohibas and Armand de Brignac are super expensive, even when they are hamster-sized.

All in all, despite the tarantulas and dearth of fanciness in the hamster department, Bo and I had a lovely time at the pet store and we cannot wait to go back…and save the $14.00 they charge you to get into the goddamn zoo these days! Also, I cannot remember that last time I went to the zoo and someone just handed me a bunny rabbit, SO THERE ZOO! SUCK IT!!!

I wanted to leave you with this. This is the opening 130 seconds of “Big Ass Spider” set to Storm Large’s cover of the Pixie’s “Where is my Mind” and it is motherfucking SUBLIME! Enjoy! XOXO

These ARE My Good Pants

OMGOMGOMG! I super hate people so much! But, if I’m being honest it’s my fault, not theirs. I should know better than to hang out in places where I will encounter the continually bewildering stupidity of humans. This is why I avoid comment sections on the the internet, Insane Clown Posse concerts, the post office or anywhere else that the rules are not universally known because no one has actually given enough of a shit to lay them out so that people can STOP looking so fucking stupid. But, sometimes you have to mail a package, sometimes you accidentally get black-out drunk and wake up in New Jersey with a bunch of Juggalos, and sometimes, not always, but sometimes you accidentally scroll too far down the page and your eyes land on the comment section of a blog you were reading….AND IT IS A GODDAMN TRAVESTY!

So, (drink) I was reading a post by brilliant blogger, Insane in the Mom Brain. I would totally bang her mind if that were a thing we could do outside of the Matrix. But it would kind of just be like I were masturbating because I am convinced we share a brain. Anyhoo, it was a post from a few years back about how it’s hard being a Mom (duh!) and sometimes it’s REALLY hard to wear pants (double duh! And how badly do I wish I had written that bit about the “low unicorn”?). When I was done reading the post and done changing my pants because I had peed them from laughing too hard (one of the many unfortunate side effects of motherhood) I scrolled down to see if there was a link to her bio and that’s when I saw them….the comments. They were just sitting there, looking all innocent but then (why, god, why?) I started to skim a few of them and for the most part they were all positive, sympathetic, and well-worded (which is highly unusual for the internet) but, of course, the one that stuck in my craw was one that said “You need to get organized and delegate” and then went on to suggest that Patti enslave her barely school-age children. Okay, it’s possible that I am exaggerating. But I do have a totally solid point to make, not only about this commenter but the ridiculous point he or she was trying to make which I will lay out in this bulleted list!

  • Read the room! This is obviously a humor blog! I would suspect that in many cases, on Patti’s blog, as well as my own, hyperbole is employed in order to get laughs. We are not idiots; we know that if we don’t want our kids in the bathroom we can just lock the door, unless we can’t because we had to take the locks off because our 4 year old kept locking himself in there and emptying the all the shampoo bottles into the toilet and then flushing it causing a gigantic tower of suds to rise out of the toilet like a fluffy, white fourth of July snake. But it’s a lot funnier to talk about how my son comes into the bathroom and says creepy things to me like “I want to watch you pee….but I am going to pretend your vagina is a penis” than to say “My son liked to follow me into the bathroom so I started to lock the door behind me and now he can’t do that anymore.” You see the difference?
  • No, not everyone can “get organized” (just like not everyone, namely you, commenter, can grasp the proper use of grammar and implementation of sentence structure)! I love it when people make it seem like everyone should be as equally capable in all things as everyone else. Telling someone like me, for instance, to “just get organized” would be tantamount to telling someone like Mozart to “just go rebuild that diesel engine”. Just because a person is an intelligent human who appears capable in many facets of life does not mean that they possess the talent or inclination towards any and ALL facets of life. I think telling some people to “just get organized” is just as feasible as walking up to another person and saying “just paint me a stunning landscape in watercolors” or “just make me some seared duck breast with a nice shallot and Gran Marnier sauce” or “just write me a symphony” or “just design me some software” or “just sew me a quilt” or “just knit me a sweater” but you get the idea. “Getting organized” is just not as easy for some as it is for others. In the meantime I will paint you a landscape and sear you a duck breast and design your new tattoo and sing you a song and and bake you delicious cookies but you can bet your ass my house will probably be a wreck while I do those things. Because while some things come very naturally to me, others do not.
  • “You have to delegate”. I understand that this person was assuming that Patti is married with a perfectly capable husband who can help out with things like laundry and fixing the locks on the bathroom door. But I am here to remind the commenter that not everyone has the luxury (I stand by that term) of living in a two-parent household. I am a single Mother. While I have a very eager and loving partner whom I adore and my son adores he is not the Father of my child. There are certain things, as a parent, you would just never ask of someone who is not the parent of your child and certainly things you would just never ask of any non-parent. That’s just basic human decency but we’re getting off track because I am aware that I am the outlier according to a person who assumes all households are made up of two equally involved and invested adults and no one ever decides that they just don’t want to be a parent anymore because heroin suddenly became MUCH more interesting than their 3 year old son….Oh shit! So that just slipped out….
  • “If your child is old enough to go to school they can do their own (and your) laundry.”
    BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Is this person for real? Do they even have kids? Have they ever met a kid? I totally get that back in the olden days as soon as a child could walk it was sent out to the barn to start milking the cows. I fully support this ideology and, trust me, if I had cattle I would be all over that shit. But it is an ideology and that is to say that it is not always based in or supported by facts or reality. Back in the olden days, when three year olds were milking cows, parents didn’t go to work. You think they dropped their kid off at Olden Days Prairie Daycare where their kids were taught how to churn butter and grind wheat and polish saddle leather? No, they were not. They grew up watching their parents do those things everyday because home WAS work. Nowadays we run back and forth, we commute, we have jobs away from our homes and our children and we are usually doing our laundry after those children are in bed, so chances are they have not watched us load the washing machine every day of their life since birth. I am all for kids helping out around the house. Shit, if mine doesn’t start learning how to vacuum sometime soon I am probably just gonna leave him on the neighbor’s doorstep in the middle of night and cross my fingers that he cannot find his way back home and/or is cute enough that they decide to keep him. At least until they realize he doesn’t do windows and then they will bring him back because they totally know it was me who left him there in the first place because even though I was wearing a hat their security cameras clearly caught someone on tape wearing a hot pink hoodie that read “I tried to be good but there were so many other options!” across the back, leaving a five year old on their doorstep and yes, I am aware of the felicitous nature of the hoodie’s slogan and how it relates to my deeds. Also, the previous statements were an example of comedic hyperbole. I don’t actually plan on abandoning my son on the neighbor’s doorstep, at least not today, while it’s still light out, but mark my words, little man, DON’T FUCKING TEST ME!
  • Not all kids who “go to school” are old enough to go to school. I have been taking my son to “school” in one form or another for nearly two years but he is still not old enough to go to kindergarten. Just because a mom says she’s “taking the kids to school” doesn’t necessarily mean that those children in question are old enough to shear sheep or do your taxes. I probably would not trust my own son with a pair of industrial grooming shears or my W-2 for at least another year or so.

It would be awesome if people thought before they opened their big, stupid, mouths but that’s sort of like asking the magic genie of the lamp to grant you more wishes; it just ain’t gonna happen no matter how hard rub or how many curses you scream at the genie. People are always going to presume that THEY know what is best for everyone else whether they know anything about their situation or not because people are basically assholes. Just remember, though, the next time you feel compelled to criticize someone on their sloppy appearance or suggest to someone that they “just get organized”, they might just punch you in the neck and tell you to go eat a dick in your goddamn Lulu Lemon yoga pants and you will, at that point, totally deserve it. XOXO

Also, I am just gonna leave this here for anyone who wants to tell me (or anyone for that matter) what kind of clothes I should wear or how my desk, living room, car, bank account, or bedroom should or could look if I “just get organized”!

Dear Kelli, You are Internetting Wrong

I just noticed this post to the Facebook page from nearly two weeks ago; our good friend Kelli has struck again because I think she might be bored or a glutton for punishment or, after reading her bizarre, error-laden and nonsensical tirades I am leaning towards, just super high on drugs. I guess she saw that I published her comments that she made (publicly) regarding the death of my father and I am guessing she recognized her Facebook profile pic in some of the screen shots I used because I don’t think “words” are really her thing. In any case here’s….whatever the fuck this is:

screenshot1

screenshot2

Okay, where to begin; I am guessing the “threats” and the “private co[n]vo (?)” to which she is referring were actually made by/had with someone else that Kelli is currently arguing with on the internet because I published every word that I wrote to her (I even wrote about how she wouldn’t let me write anything else to her; “I did, however, try to write back to Kelli, just to ask her if she was a robot but her messenger account informed me that “this user is not currently accepting messages from you at this time”)…..because I am not ashamed of the things I say to other people, even when I totally should be. Last I checked, suggesting that someone had magical life-giving abilities that protect those around them from mortality does not count as a “threat”, but then again I have not looked the word up in the dictionary in a few weeks so I admit that I may need a refresher course. But I am guessing that this thing happens all the time to people like Kelli; I think she’s easily confused and has trouble with “facts”…and the proper placement of vowels(I just wanted to be sure that everyone could hear the sarcastic air quotes around that).
Although I am positive that the Renton Police department have me well on their radar I doubt it has anything to do with this blog or with defamation (which Kelli totally spelled correctly, big hand for her) or with Kelli. Disorderly conduct, shoplifting, public indecency, jaywalking, public intoxication, failure to yield; probably one of those. I would also like to point out that Kelli claims to know me (from Delancy’s (?) one of the few bars in Renton to which I have actually never been…SWING AND A MISS!) but I think we can all agree that if Kelli really knew me she would not have chosen the word “narrow” to describe my ass. For my ass might be many things; narrow is emphatically not one of them. As for Kelli’s being a disabled veteran, I thank her for her service and for her sacrifice. Your brave and noble service to your country, however, does not make you above any and all scrutiny regarding your conduct. Doing something good once or even for decades does not “buy you a pass” to treat others poorly. Goodness and decency (at least this is what I have heard because I am obviously out of my depth here) are not stored up in a bank or on one side of a scale just waiting to be balanced out with your shitty behavior; they just exist inside of you…well maybe not YOU but some people, for sure.
Remember, Kelli, you are the one who saw a person suffering and chose to kick them while they were down and then ran away from your words as soon as someone (not even me) called you out on your rudeness. I understand that some people just HAVE TO have an opinion about EVERYTHING they actually take the time to skim while sitting on the toilet. That’s just the way some humans are. I also understand that not everyone is capable of realizing that their opinions were unpopular and just shrugging off the whole experience. Some people need to feel like they are accomplishing something great or changing minds or at the very least scaring people by making strange and confusing claims about “dragging [my] narrow ass (still giggling) into court”. And I am here to tell Kelli that she is, in fact, totally accomplishing something great by continuing our befuddling and, at times, contentious relationship: I sat down at the computer and thought “What the fuck am I going to write about?” Then I saw Kelli’s posts and I was like “Shit Yeah! I ain’t gotta do shit ’cause this loopy bitch is giving me GOLD!” I figure if we can keep this up I won’t have to do ANY real, actual work, and y’all can just read the Kelli Brown Blog!
Also, (drink) I just wanted to say that I LOVE how she wrote these posts, at 5:00 am, as if she were addressing “the masses”…yeah all the many masses of people who read this blog! Also, also, I hate to burst Kelli’s bubble but no one can see her posts unless I choose to share them, WHICH I TOTALLY DID!
I love you guys all so very much! Thanks for making things wonderful, even you, Kelli! Remember to be kind to one another even when it’s the more difficult choice…or not. Do whatever you want, I’ll always accept you but mostly because my expectations regarding human behavior are remarkably low. XOXO

The Often Confusing and Terrifying World of Stock Images

I figured we all (an by “we all” I mean me) could use a break from all the “my Dad’s dead” monotony, plus I wrote this right before I got the first call from the hospital so I pretty much did not have to do anything which is how I like things. Enjoy!

So (drink), in my other life I am a graphic designer which makes me sound more important or more educated or more grown up than I actually am. In reality I make ads for newspapers which is actually a lot of fun. I get to play with art and make things and play with typography and really what more could an artsy, word-loving, font nerd want out of life? More money, that’s what….but that is not my point although I do totally have one, I swear.

In our various peregrinations as graphic artists we look at a ton of art, stock photography, vector images, clipart etc. each and every day. And sometimes we find exactly what we are looking for and other times we find so much more than we set out to find! Which is why I decided to make a special folder at work, on one of our servers, where the whole creative team in my office could drop pictures they found that were more curiosity than anything else: Images so horrifying, poorly executed, head-scratchingly vexing, and downright ugly that they defy reason and imagination! I made a “Horrible Stock Art” folder and, if I ever get off my lazy ass, am totally going to make a Tumblr out of all the terrifying things in there. The best part is that with 16 artist working in one creative hub, new stuff gets downloaded every day!

In the meantime I decided it would be fun to share some of the images here!
*Crowd Roars*
So here are some of them in all their bizarre, tacky, irrelevant glory! Enjoy!

03042918915159xshs_X_th_C

Admittedly, when I first looked at this I thought it was a real person just wearing a super creepy mask but no, it’s a statue…smoking a cigar, because why the fuck not!

 

dv755043

You should see the picture of him before meth.

 

Its called presenting

It’s called “presenting”. 

 

is he smelling her crotch

Is he smelling her crotch? 

 

i have no words

I have no words… I really don’t. Or maybe I am just saving them for a worse picture than this one, if that is at all possible.

 

OMG is that a discman

HOLY FUCK! Is that a discman?

 

wax martha graham

I know this is supposed to look like Martha Graham but it kind of just looks like the wax statue of an awkward Carol Burnett in the process of melting.

 

this monk knows how to party

This monk knows how to jam out…either that or he’s putting out an imaginary fire.

 

scary clown drag queen ballarino

I call ’em like I see ’em…and here I see a scary drag queen clown ballerino.

 

i madethis in Paint for you_mom

“LOOK MOM! I made this for you in Paint!”

 

I have no idea for what scenario this would be appropriate

I have no idea for what scenario this image would be appropriate.

 

DancingManCar3HC1102_X_th_C

And here we have a headless man romancing an anthropomorphic female car!

 

bells palsy ballarina

And this is a ballerina and her tremendously severe case of bells palsy.

 

axe dog

????

 

thisWILLhurtabit

This WILL hurt a bit.

c3dbfc552ffc4528f8ff41f970ea88d6

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

thug life

#ThugLife

 

twogreattastesthattastegreattogether

Now THAT is my kind of Doctor!

 

stock-vector-strange-and-horrible-girl-illustration-with-diamond-sketch-art-tattoo-333274838

And you thought YOUR kidney stones were a bitch!

 

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A one-eyed butcher or blackjack dealer flashing “East Side” while listening to an abacus.

 

underwater nun

I am super confused right now.

 

WHAT_THE

NOM NOM NOM!

 

yum gasoline

This seems like a perfectly reasonable thing although, if she still has beer left why has she already switched to gasoline? 

 

This baby looks like Vic Mackey

This baby looks exactly like Vic Mackey!

 

thefutureiscorn

THE FUTURE IS CORN!!!

 

Terrible Snowman 465052944

I have never felt this much pity for a snowman before. Everyone knows the pointy end of the carrot faces out! What the fuck is wrong with society? 

 

the murderer

This bitch is all, “Yep, I killed him! What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

 

STOPLOOKINGATME

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP LOOKING AT ME!

 

sociopath

I have so many questions: what did that fish ever do to her? Why is she so happy about killing that fish and probably losing a digit in the process? Is that Bridget Fonda? Is she cosplaying “Reservoir Dogs”?

 

infants and champagne

“Join us for the further adventures of Drunk Baby! In his next adventure he gets taken away by CPS!”

 

ishedeathorjesus

Is that supposed to be Death or Jesus? I legitimately want to know the answer to this.

 

Title

This baby LOVES rat poison and also looks like River Phoenix from “Stand By Me”.

 

mommyslittlearsonist

Mommy’s little arsonist!

 

Mr. Princess

Okay, I supposed this could be explained if he were a mayor and his last name was actually Princess. 

 

shrunkenheaddoctor

I am not sure why this doctor has a shrunken head…either that or he’s borrowed the suit that David Byrne wore in “Stop Making Sense”. And for the love of all that is holy, please put down the Goddamn baby and walk away slowly! 

I have an excellent caption for this

“Oh-Em-Gee, Guys! Look how much fun we’re having! Or at least that’s how it will look when I post this to Instagram!” Also, one of those dudes is getting REAL lucky this new year’s eve. Also, also it just occurred to me that those people are probably all related, or at least were all made in the same factory…you know, the one that made Taylor Swift.

 

I am plotting your eventual murder

Man’s thought: “I am plotting your eventual murder.” Woman’s thought: “There’s just no ‘right time’ to tell him he’s not the father.”

 

deer god

Deer God!

 

Title

THIS! This makes me super uncomfortable. It’s just so creepy on so many levels; she’s clearly supposed to be his daughter but he is awkwardly embracing her mid-section as if she were pregnant with his child….also, she’s like 10.

 

Title

It says “Sick Cookie” (which, on its own totally makes perfect sense, right?) but all I see is a sick meatball.

 

cake pillow

Okay, this actually seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do….for those of us who would like to have a constant supply of cake in our bed, right next to our mouth.

 

 

BabyNewYear05_X_th_C

Ladies and Gentlemen, in this evening’s performance Baby New Year will be played by Ralph Kramden!

 

BabyNewYear10_X_th_C

Okay, presumably if you are looking through stock images to place in advertisements you are an artist and as an artist you would clearly know that this, as art, is a steaming pile of shit.

 

Caesar Cruz once said that “art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable”. Frankly I am not sure which of those I started out as but I am definitely disturbed now and none of these are comforting me AT ALL!

What really blows my mind is not how much bizarre stock photography we find but how much really, truly awful artwork. Why, for the love of Jebus, would anyone whose job title included the word “artist” use something that looked like it was made by a moderately talented German Shepard using the 1985 version of Paintbrush Pro? Particularly when most of us could make something 30 times less crappy in a matter of minutes? I’ll tell you why, because laziness and we don’t get paid enough to care. I hope this made you laugh or at least wonder how someone could go their entire life without being taught how to properly assemble a snowman. XOXO

 

 

 

The Accidental Eulogy I Wrote for My Dad While Trolling a Troll!

So as a blogger and a person who has a reasonable grasp of common sense (I did not say I always employed said common sense) I rarely get bent out of shape about what people say (to me or anyone else) on the internet. I pretty much avoid comment sections because they are typically populated by the pond scum of humanity who STILL think that because they have a computer someone should give a shit about their opinion (says the blogger…ironically). But, when people comment on the shit I write, I totally read those because, DUH! And that is how I made my new bestest friend, Kelli! Kelli decided that it would be appropriate, nay, her duty to inform me that the way I chose to deal with the health complications and inevitable death of my Father was just not to her particular liking. Normally I would have just ignored it; see I don’t even delete negative or shitty comments or the people who write them because even that is paying them too much attention. But this was not a normal day, this was the day after my Dad died. So, when it became clear that Kelli had put up the force shields around her snotty comment making it so that me, as page manage could not reply, I decided to write her a personal message. But before we get into that below is a screenshot of her original comment:

 

Below is what I wrote to Kelli:

Hi Kelli,
I thought you and I could get to know one another since you seem to be so incredibly knowledgeable about all things, especially how other people should deal with the profound loss of a loved one. Now, I’ll admit, my Dad only died about *checks imaginary watch on wrist* 38 hours ago so it is possible that I have transitioned to the “anger” stage of grief, but I was wondering if you could tell me exactly HOW I should be dealing with my Dad’s death? He wasn’t elderly, you know. We weren’t expecting this. Oh, his name was Scott by the way, his friends that he grew up with called him Scooter. He was hilarious, generous, friendly, proud and the most non-judgmental person you could meet. He loved his children, his friends, his family, his two sister, his 94 year old mother, his ex-wife (the mother of his children) and his dogs with passion and fervor. He was a wonderful, flawed, giving, inappropriate, soulful, joyful human being and yesterday morning I held his dead body in my arms and cried into his neck and tried to say goodbye as best I knew how. If only you had been there to instruct me on how I should have been behaving more properly in that moment. Or, who knows, maybe you are fucking magical and simply knowing YOU protects those you love from death…that must be it since you have clearly never lost anyone important to you. Except maybe one of your 18 cats (I am just making an intuitive leap here because your Facebook page has a shit ton of pictures of cats, no humans oddly enough, and cats don’t live very long).

Sincerely,
Your Newest Bestest Friend Who Never Tires of Hearing Your Completely Baseless Opinions
Dacia Hanson
XOXO

I don’t know what I hoped to achieve, if anything, by reaching out to the pearl-clutching Kelli but I felt that the result was a very nice tribute to Dad so it is probably what I will end up reading at his memorial service. I was definitely not expecting a reply, mostly because when you message someone with whom you are not friends the likelihood that they will see your message is typically slim. But she, in her unrelenting and infinite wisdom, TOTALLY WROTE BACK TO ME!!!

conversations with kelli

Whaaaaa….?

confused Jackie Chan

Even Jackie Chan is confused….

jack

Call me crazy….But I think this bitch might be fucking stupid!

 

What the….? At this point I was kind of bummed because it was clear that I could not pursue my campaign against this person because she was obviously….how to put this delicately….a fucking retard (I am violently aware that is a hot button term and has been deemed politically incorrect and that enlightened humans should not use it in derision but I am not using it in derision I am genuinely making an assessment that this person is mentally deficient or at the very least cannot read). Yeah, I was a little bummed that I couldn’t really be mad at a person who had no idea what she was talking about because she couldn’t read but all in all it was a nice distraction on a day I could really use one.

I did, however, try to write back to Kelli, just to ask her if she was a robot but her messenger account informed me that “this user is not currently accepting messages from you at this time”. Okay, we’ve all done stupid shit on the internet that we regret (lord knows I have) but I believe there two kinds of people on this earth; the kind that do stupid shit on the internet but then realize they either should not have done that stupid shit or do not want to deal with the fallout of said stupid shit so they block and ban and delete and claim they were “hacked” (like anyone would bother hacking you, you fucking useless nobody) and move to India and change their name and join a holy house where the internet does not exist OR the people who do stupid shit on the internet then watch with amusement while the rest of the world gets bent out of shape about it. In my opinion (which we can all agree doesn’t much matter) you might as well just own your stupid shit because there really is no running from it…that’s why god invented screenshots.

So I was ready to walk away when I saw this!

“So Old Renton Book Exchange and The Biblio Diva are one in the same! How Narcissistic of you. Shall I publish your little post, remember we’re best friends now peanut. [sic]” (and no, I did not get a screenshot of this which sort of blows my previous point out of the water but who gives a shit).

Okay, first of all, I super love my new nickname! Secondly, excellent detective work, Sherlock! You totally get a gold star! Thirdly, of course I am a narcissist; I am a blogger which automatically means that I am blessed with the unique ability to overlook my own irrelevance! Fourthly (and I am fairly certain that’s not a real word), her threat to “publish” what I had written to her was hilarious because if I write it, I am not doing it for my goddamn health! OF COURSE I AM GOING TO PUBLISH THAT SHIT! I am lazy as fuck and that was like a good 300 words. You are stupider than I thought if you think I was just gonna waste those on you! Sheesh!

hello mcfly

HELLO! McFLY! ANYBODY HOME?!?!

So, any decent human being would have learned some sort of valuable lesson by now but I think we can all agree that I am nowhere near being a decent human being. I am thankful to Kelli for distracting me from my misery for a few hours and I hope she reads this so she knows that she was helpful, because, at the end of the day, I am pretty sure that’s all she really wants; to help people.

Hey, I love you guys. Thanks to everyone who read (all of) yesterday’s post (and comprehended it in its entirety) and thank you for just being here and making life seem a little less horrible and a lot less pointless (that was a double negative). Everyone who took time out of their day yesterday to send me their love or prayers or thoughts or offer their condolences I owe you an enormous “thank you”, an enormous hug and probably an enormous martini! XOXO

Getting Sick is Childish Just Not in the Way you Think

I wrote this yesterday….as anyone who uses Google can tell you, yesterday was Charles Perrault’s birthday, not today and none of this makes any sense to you yet.

 

It was a fun weekend; I got Strep Throat so…points. Does anyone else feel like Strep Throat is a really juvenile disease? Like it would be weird if I came to you and said “Yeah, I have the Chicken Pox” particularly since they vaccinate for that shit now. Or if I told you that I had croup or measles or Recreational Water Illness (RWI and yes, that’s a real thing. Google that shit!) or mumps or diaper rash; you would think that was weird…right? God, I fucking hope so! Or if I told you I had Tourette’s….actually, never mind, that totally tracks.

I just feel like I can’t even get a proper, grown-up ailment. Like even my diseases are refusing to grow up and be mature upstanding diseases, like arthritis or hypertension or cancer. I couldn’t have one of those fancy, grown-up illnesses like that. Nope! I got Strep Throat.

I was pretty sure, by the third day that it was Strep. I had looked at my throat with a flashlight and my tonsils were swollen roughly to the size of the average male goat’s testicles and they had all kinds of white blotches on them. That night when I went to work I (of course) looked up my symptoms on the internet and for once the internet was kind to me and told me I had Strep Throat, not Cancer of the Sudden Painful Death. Despite my raging fever and opulently grotesque and sore throat, I toughed it out through the Sunday night shift and went home.

The next morning, against all odds, it was even worse. My glands were swollen to the point they were causing me to have earaches and headaches, not to mention the fact that it kind of looked like I had a fleshy doughnut lodged beneath my chin. I had planned on going to the doctor as soon as I could drag my sagging corpse out of bed.

At the doctor’s office, the best part was the man-nurse who was getting me all checked in and checked out before the doctor could come in. He said, “So, you think you have Strep?” and I replied in the affirmative, listing off my various symptoms; swollen glands, earaches, swollen tonsils, white spots on the tonsils, fever etc. He then proceeds to tell me that “most of the time it’s not Strep” citing that Strep is most often accompanied with swelling of the glands, fever, swollen tonsils, headaches or earaches etc. Now, is it just me or was his list of example symptoms practically identical to those that I had just listed? Yeah, that’s what I thought! It’s like he resented me for having the audacity to self-diagnose and therefore wanted me to be wrong.

The moment I opened my mouth so that he could swab my throat for the culture test he was met with the grim reality that he could no longer deny. The reality that…I was right! Suck it, man-nurse! It’s not my fault you’re insecure with your career choices!!! He hastily, and if you ask me a bit ham-handedly, swabbed my throat and left the room. The doctor came in not 2 minutes later, before the culture test could be completed, and asked me the same goddamn questions but at least she wasn’t an asshole about it. She looked at my throat and my ears with her fancy doctor flashlights and then popped her head out the door and someone on the other side of nurses’ station yelled, “Yep!” at her. Apparently my test had come back positive for Strep…imagine that.

In short order I was dispatched with my prescriptions and Bo and I made our way home where, for the better part of the afternoon, we snuggled, listened to music, and watched “Pirates of the Caribbean” on Netflix because that’s how we roll.

So far Bo has managed to avoid getting it but when I dropped him off at school this morning there was a big sign on the classroom door reading:
“ATTENTION PARENTS! We have had an outbreak of Strep Throat….blah, blah, etc.”
Which pretty much just cemented my belief that I cannot even get sick like an adult. There’s probably no hope for me.

                                                                                                                                                                            

On to a completely different topic; today is the 338th birthday of French author, storyteller, mythmaker, the legendary Charles Perrault. He is responsible for nearly every title we think of as “Classic Fairy Tales” and he was doing it over a century before the Brothers Grimm. He is the progenitor of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Puss n’ Boots, Bluebeard and many others. He is also thought to be the creator of Mother Goose, having first published “Les Contes de Ma Merè L’Oye” or “Tales from my Mother Goose” in 1697. Needless to say Disney would not even exist if it were not for Charles Perrault.

I just wanted to give Chuck a shout-out on his birthday and use this opportunity to share some of the incredible illustrations that his works have inspired for the last 3 centuries! I hope y’all enjoys these as much as I do! XOXO

RUDOLF KOIVU 1942

Rudolf Koivu 1942 Sleeping Beauty

CHARLES BOWATER

Charles Bowater 2012 Sleeping Beauty

FELIX LIROUX 1921

Felix Liroux 1921 Puss N’ Boots

FELIX LIROUX CIND

Felix Liroux 1926 Cinderella

ABIGAIL LARSEN SB

Abigail Larson 2010 Sleeping Beauty

ADRIENNE SEGUR 1951

Adrienne Segur 1951 Little Red Riding Hood

FELIX LORIOUX 1926

Felix Liroux 1926 Cinderella

crane_sleepingbeauty

Walter Crane 1876 Sleeping Beauty

ADASA SKLIUTAUSKAITE_1973

Adasa Skliutauskaite 1973 Cinderella (STUNNING!)

ADRIENNE SEGUR 1967

Adrienne Segur 1967 Puss N’ Boots

WALTER CRANE 1876

Walter Crane 1876

KY KRAFT 1992

K. Y. Kraft 2000 Cinderella

KY KRAFT 92

K. Y. Kraft 2000 Cinderella

ARTHUR RACKHAM SB

Arthur Rackham 1911 Sleeping Beauty

ARTHUR RACKHAM 1902

Arthur Rackham 1902 Little Red Riding Hood

HARRY CLARKE 1922

Harry Clarke 1922 Little Red Riding Hood

GUSTAVE DORE 1862

Gustave Dore 1862 Puss N’ Boots

KAY NIELSEN 1913

Kay Nielsen 1913 Sleeping Beauty

KAY NIELSEN BLUEBEARD

Kay Nielsen 1909 Bluebeard

IMG_0555

Mary Blair 1952 Cinderella

HARRY CLARKE 1922_SLEEPING BEAUTY

Harry Clarke 1922 Sleeping Beauty

MARY BLAIR SLEEPING BEAUTY

Mary Blair Ca. 1960 Sleeping Beauty

GUSTAVE DORE 1862_1

Gustav Dore 1862 Little Red Riding Hood

EDMUND DULAC 1910

Edmund Dulac 1910 Cinderella

TRINA SCHART HYMAN 1983

Trina Schart Hyman (not making that up) 1983 Little Red Riding Hood

LUCY LEVENSON QUILT

Lucy Levenson 2014 Sleeping Beauty quilt….YEAH! That’s a goddamn quilt, y’all!!!

 

Happy Fucking New Year!

This, along with various other overextended claims regarding my physical health and appearance, was to be my New Year’s Resolution! The reason I chose to begin bothering you people again as my new years resolution is because this was something I could totally do without leaving the house, putting down this glass of whiskey or putting on “real pants”. Because those are just things in which I have no interest.

I could make this the post where I explain to you why the site went dormant or what I have been up to in the interim but I am not going to do that. What I am going to say is, welcome to the new site, it is still in its infancy and will probably be going through some adjustments here and there. What happened to all the old posts? Well, luckily I was able to salvage the majority of them from the evil, devouring Server-Monsters at Just Host, and will be attempting to re-link everything I can.

I hope we can pick up where we left off. I hope that all of you are still out there. I hope to make you laugh every day. And I hope that this beautiful, strange, delinquent journey can continue for a long, long time.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! I’M BACK!!!

ALSO, (drink) you should read the “about” page because I wasted all my funny on that today. See you tomorrow!!!!

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