Money for Me, Money for You

Hey LipSmackerz,

I swear that one day soon, I am going to win the Walgreens Care sweepstakes. 

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, I urge you to look at the bottom of your Walgreens receipt. That little sequence of numbers is my ticket to some fast cash. If you don’t live near a Walgreens, it’s a Duane Reade or CVS. At the bottom of EVERY receipt, there is a survey to win $3,000. Let me tell you, my odds of winning are through the goddamn roof. I am WAITING for my ship to come in. And it will. 

I know I’m being aggressive but you would too if you’ve been entering the same contest 3+ times a month for about 2 years.

What is something you do that is kinda weird?

I watch a lot of Barbie: Life in the DreamHouse on Netflix because it’s grear.

Okay tell me more!


The face! The face! The face-is-on-fire!

Hey squeakers,

This weekend I went to an Ava Anderson party and charged shit-ton of stuff onto my credit card!

In short, Ava Anderson sells natural products for your big dumb face. We all know my big dumb face has been on fire for months because I’m allergic to something and it’s trying to kill me SO my big dumb face looked into my wallet and took out my credit card and gave it to a stranger so she could give me stuff that won’t burn my face off. SO YAY!

In other news, we (my roommate and I) came back from dinner and while walking through the parking lot of our apartment complex, we noticed our lights were on which we always shut off. Naturally, our next step was to stand outside our apartment with our ears pressed up the door, as if an intruder wouldn’t know to look through the peephole to see our faces smashed against the metal. We barged in, grabbed knives, I almost shit my pants because I had the pork chop for dinner, and then “cleared” all the rooms Walking Dead style. We’re still alive and I didn’t shit my pants. We were ready to slice and dice though. By the way, don’t throw us surprise parties.

Okay, it’s time for bed, I didn’t get my 300 hours of sleep this weekend so leave me alone gosh bye.


I Guess I Should Talk About My Resolutions

It’s that time of year again where we all puff out our waxed and buffed chests and scribble our noble resolutions in cherry scented Mr. Sketch markers for everyone to see and sniff! Amiright?

Last year I only made one resolution, which was to say “yes” to more opportunities… even if I wasn’t 100% on going/doing/whatevering them. It worked out pretty well, aside from me saying “yes” to a Nordstrom Credit Card and “yes” to the $300 Classique Entier jacket and “yes” to the cashier when she asked if I wanted to use my Triple Points.

Buuuuuut I also said “yes” to my lovely new car and “yes” to quitting my unfulfilling job and “yes” to moving out of my childhood home and “yes” renting my first apartment.

                                     Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. yes.

I have no recollection of 2013. I think it was a year of stillness: Going to a mind numbing job everyday, coming home and sitting on my couch for the rest of the night, and growing unhealthier in mind, body, and spirit by the second. 2014 was the year of watching The X-Files and Twin Peaks and The Sopranos. A lot of healing through binge watching television shows. In 2014 I also stopped being completely sedentary and upgraded to walking to the garbage can to throw  my chocolate wrappers away instead of leaving them all over my chest for my mother to brush off. Thanks Ma!

Play that chocolate like a harmonica, baby.

For 2015 I think it’s time to be a more proactive and forthright with my writing goals and getting more pieces published. I know what I want and what I can achieve but I just don’t apply the effort. I’m still not done with The Sopranos and I just started Six Feet Under, so I might have to take a HBO On Demand hiatus and work on my shit instead of the other way around. I wonder if I’m either the antithesis or the prime example of a young, anxious writer. I psych myself out of writing on certain topics because I think “why would anyone want to read this?” Meanwhile, I’m on the most butthole boring websites until 2AM, reading anything I can.

    Here I am enjoying my morning coffee after 3 hours of sleep.

I also think I’ll be giving more. I never really understood how much I was supported until I moved out of my house. I can work myself up in a tizzy worrying about protecting my money, while completely ignoring the fact that just like most things, there’s an ebb and flow. You have to be willing to release to receive.

Also, I’ll be proofreading my posts before I submit them. HOORAY!

SO, my pretty little babies…What are your resolutions, goals, and/or dreams for 2015? I WANNA KNOW!

Okay, love you forever remember not to stick your hand down the disposal!

$19 In My Bank Account

Have you ever gone shopping and just completely disregarded your budget and bought the soundtrack to Disney’s Frozen? and some mascara? and a KitKat bar?

Strange, ME TOO!

Looks like we’ll both be staying home and watching reruns* of The Wire on our laptops in our mothers’ house. (*Reruns is the new term for “has been renting each season’s DVD set at the local library.” Speaking of which, can you even rent from a library you are not local to? They got rules about that shit.)

While we’re in our homes this weekend, watching our reruns, we can also SELL A BUNCH OF STUFF ON THE INTERNET! In preparation of my move (as mentioned in a previous post, which I’m SURE you’ve read) I’ve been packing up my precious items and discarding items that I know longer need/won’t fit in the UHaul. Need a children’s jewelry box? How about 4 of them? No? We just keep discovering how alike we are! I have an impressive snow globe collection, books, and clothes. Sorry, not giving away my stuffed animals, if I ever need to barricade my door from and intruder or need to choke serial killer, then I’d be really up a creak without a Build-a-Bear. (Thank God I have 6.)

Well my charlatans, it’s bedtime! I’ll let you know if I find some coins in the sofa or behind the washing machine. We can go get ice cream, my treat!

K, love you, bye.

If I Won the Lottery…

…and by if I mean WHEN.

Because positivity, you know?

But for realnessess, I would pay off any debts of my family and friends had. I don’t think people should have to worry about money. I know that sounds naive and unrealistic for most people, but in the bigger picture I don’t think it’s worth it.

That being said, I would also like to start wiping my butt with twenties.

I would also buy back an independent movie theater that was shut down near my town. It was bought and was going to be turned into something sad like an apartment building, but those plans fell through.

Anyways…I’m going to see Brian Regan tonight! HOORAY!

Okay! Until next time my little cucumbermelonheads!


Crystals and Toe-Sucking

Hey guys, I might be a witch.

Lately I’ve been reading up on crystals and gemstones and their benefits. I have a piece of citrine, an emerald, and a little lapis lazuli (any Gilgamesh fans?).

I carry them around as lucky charms but I also read that keeping certain ones under your pillow will help you have happier dreams when you sleep.

WELL my friends, I did not put my crystals under my pillow last night and I had some pretty fucked up dreams. One of them included sucking the toes (which nails were painted blackish-purple) of a kid I used to like a few years back. There was lots of drag queens, Goldfish crackers, rainbow escalators, and a nighttime pool party.

It sounds traumatizing but I woke up laughing so I’m hoping I haven’t completely become unhinged. Although, I’m not sure if laughing means I am crazy or just understanding of the absurdity.

Judging by the titles of my last few posts, I guess it might be the former.

In other news, I am seeing a psychic this weekend!

It was either that or a therapist and the psychic was cheaper.

And they are usually better at telling people what to do.

Me make a decision for myself? Puh! Unless it’s food or clothing, I’ll take all the advice I can get.

Or this blog. This thing is stream of consciousness. I pick a topic and wipe my ass with it and see how you darling pooptarts like it.

I’m not going to put the crystals under my pillow again tonight and see if anything else kooky happens.

Until next time my Scruvy Fully Bloateds!

Comedy Cruise!

And I’m not using that as a schticky nickname for when Tom Cruise is being a snarky little tart.

But really, there is a comedy cruise! I’ve been eyeing this puppy for a few weeks now. There are going to be some great people on there like Maria Bamford, Marc Maron, and the beloved Eugene Mirman.

Here be the link! —> <—

They have a payment plan for tickets if, like me, you dedicate too much of your paycheck to iced coffee.

There will also be music going on there too! But Jesus, I’m not going to give you all the details. You have to go look for yourself and be amazed.

Okay, until next time, my sweet roast ducks!

Yes, Pigs Do Have Bank Accounts

Hey. Hi. How are ya?

Good. I’m happy. I sucked down a bunch of coffee and I’m wearing a men’s tank top because fuck the establishment. I’m not really sure what that means because I had a meatball sub yesterday instead of going to the gym because that’s all that matters.

Am I crazy? I don’t know, do pigs not have 401Ks? I think the proof is in the partridge in a pear tree.

But back to my tank top. It’s of outer space, which I’m feeling resentful of, but it has kittens riding slices of pizza. Nothing has ever felt so right.

Still with me? Good. Enjoy that beef ravioli.

Until next time, chapstick lovers!


Perks of Living on Cape Cod: A (Rejected) List

BEHOLD! Another rejected list submission.

Perks of Living on Cape Cod

Your diamond bracelets second as napkin rings for your surprise picnics on the beach!


You know ALL of the Kennedy cousins, and are close friends with Shecky, Harpo, and Twanda Kennedy.

Those Madras Bermuda shorts look great on the golf course. And that seagull golf club cover? You are too much!

A belt to match every set of loafers with little whales, little crabs, and adorable little sailboats. I am in Heaven!

My Bum Hurts

Hi my beautiful children of the web! I hope your weekend doesn’t stink like poopy buttcracks. Last night I got the opportunity to skate around with a roller derby team. It was fun but now I can’t walk. Apparently an important rule for skating is you probably shouldn’t keep your legs rigor mortis while you clench your asscheeks like if you were keeping a grenade from dropping. This may be the first time I used the word grenade and it wasn’t meant to be a metaphor for poop, although it too would apply. Miraculously, I pulled myself together this morning and went to the mall for 6 hours and spent $300 on stuffed animals, ice cream, and blouses I can’t fit into my drawer. I also bought black lipstick which I will wear whenever I’m feeling especially moody but my lips are too tired to pout. All the yammering I do during the day to my kitties gets tiring, you know. I’ll also smear it on when I’m playing my XBOX so I can feel a little more badass.

In more pressing news, tomorrow I’m going to see David Sedaris and make him my bride. Some of my friends I’ve told suggested that I write up a short story for him. I have one in the works about how I had to piss in an almond jar while driving, so even if he wipes his ass with it because it’s so terrible, at least we’ll be bonded through the written word.

Enjoy the rest of your night/morning my little kumquats. Until we meet again.