Fake Face, Day 30

Hey Kling-dongs. 

That’s my new brand of plastic wrap with cartoon dicks all over it. To be used to cover the left over deviled eggs at your bachelorette party. 

Do people like deviled eggs? They seem like a staple at family parties. You see them arrive in their special little caddy but you never actually see people eating them. BUT, the mystery–there are never any left over because Uncle Marty throws his hands in the air and goes “awww who ate all the deviled eggs?!” and everyone laughs, except for Aunt Edy because she and Uncle Marty had a falling out years ago, in which Marty forgot about, but Edy still shoots stingy remarks about Marty under her breath to any female relative in near proximity. No one likes Edy, she should just let it go. 

But I digress. 

DAY 30.


QUESTION: What’s in your makeup bag? (revs blow torch, lowers mask)

As a person who dumps more money into Sephora than should be legally allowed, you’d think I’d be able to talk about all the super great things I have in my 5 different makeup bags that turn me from 8 year-old boy to 40-something drag superstar. But alas, I’m still trying to pull off  the “She’s All That” look before she actually turns “All That.”

So why do you need 3 different gold eyeliners for all those New Year’s parties you’re not going to? BECAUSE.

What about this $50 smokey eye palette? I NEEDED it and Pinterest gave me a vague idea of how to use it, so leave me alone I just want to rock the two black eyes that gorilla gave me when he punched me at the zoo. 

I enjoy makeup, but anything above “you don’t look completely dead” makes me feel like a clown. Everything in moderation. Except for things with sugar in them. You can have extra of that. 

Anyways, new topic, I have half an episode left of the X-Files and the last movie before that chapter of my life comes to a close. It’s bittersweet because X-Files was a crutch for me, BUT I mentioned that I would be starting some new (relative term) shows like Twin Peaks, The Sopranos, The Wire, etc. AND GUESS WHAT? I got a request from a lo-lite (my nickname for anyone who has ever enjoyed any of my humor in any capacity) to live-tweet my thoughts on Twin Peaks. The idea that anyone would want my opinion or reaction to anything is extraordinarily flattering. SO THANK YOU!


Lolo signing off.

Until next time, my Quispy Queens.


I’ve been listening to a lot of Moby lately and doing tribal dances around my office, yet I still haven’t been able to come up with a good topic for today. I was working on a joke, but I haven’t figured out how to cram it into 140 characters, so let’s talk.

I see nothing wrong with wanting to make yourself more physically attractive, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or cutting someone else’s face off their skull and putting it on yours.  I mean, unless you do it in a way that wins you an Academy Award, then who am I to say.  But J. Christ, there are colored contacts out there that are making fine young people look like  mutant demons that extract souls for nourishment. Granted, there are some LOVELY shades out there, but if Pinterest has taught me anything (aside from how to weave a basket out of dolphin hairs, with my feet, for the baby’s room) it’s that this is a growing trend that we might not be able to stop until we all have freaky Coraline button eyes. With every makeup tutorial I search, more and more of these raptor eyes are staring out from underneath 4-inch horsehair eyelashes. There’s something in those jagged, pea-sized pupils unfazed by the light of the iPhone flash, that is so stark and emotionless, that I felt the need to warn all of you.