these go to 11.

I’m supposed to provide a picture to go along with my bio.

Man, I need to take a real picture that isn’t at a bar.


never not weird

Writing a bio for yourself.  I’ve lost the ability to be straightforward and keep resisting the urge to start it with “Erin is a fucking Chicago bigmouth who would shut up if she knew what was good for her.”

No, not that.

“Erin is on an unending quest for the perfect pair of semi stretchy high waisted jeans. She spends her free time leaving dirty plates lying around.”

God, stop it.

“Erin rarely shits.”

UGH NO.

“In early 2009, Erin was found washed up on the shores of Gitchi Gumi, wrapped in an old newspaper and clutching a burned out Hitachi magic wand. She was 25 years old, spoke 17 languages, and had no memories from the prior 18 months.”

I’ll just grab the nearest book jacket and see what that person did.




if Rick Santorum WERE to have a uterus; he wouldn’t use that sanctuary for the unborn as the scene of a murder.

May God have mercy on your soul.

Email from a reader.

You know what’s funny?  Whenever people say “May god have mercy on your soul,” they usually don’t mean it at all.  It’s just about the least sincere thing you can say to someone, because the type of small, sanctimonious nincompoop that writes that kind of shit undoubtedly would love to see me in cartoon hell with flames burning my face off.  

To that, I say:  may Dog have diarrhea on your lawn. 


let's get rick santorum his own uterus

He’s wanted one so very much for so very long.  It’s his Pony for Christmas.  

At the very least, consider making a small donation of a feminine hygiene product so he can prepare for the arrival of his precious organ.  



So this dog, named Roxy, is available for adoption at the Humane Society of New York.  Not sure if the pearls are included, but if you’re into her, you can inquire here.

More professionally done photographs of adoptable pets here.

(Source: jezebel.com)




You might say that Julian Assange is the “Queen Bitch” of complicated international date rape proceedings.


periods!

My favorite is when the onslaught of Ladytime just exactly perfectly coincides with a huge amount of work that I have to get done— a 5,000 word piece due tomorrow on top of my regular work.  I’m at about 4,000 words, and am concerned that I have about 11,000 worth of things to say on the topic.  Analysis paralysis.

I hate giving credence to the stereotype that periods make ladies craaaaazy because that’s not the case; hormone fluctuations only serve to amplify emotions that are already there. And sometimes those emotions get super extra amplified, like right now for example.

Anyway, long story short: I just spent the last 10 minutes crying about the fact that one day my cat’s going to die and so is my mom, so I’m getting a lot done.


good news

Personal stuff:

My mom’s cancer-free now, after her post-surgery checkup.  

Not out of the woods, obviously, but this is as good of news as we could be getting right now.  She’s running again.  



Whoa. (Here’s an update)

(From a Wilkes-Barre, PA reporter)



These bracelets will help me better express myself.

“Mrs. Pussy” and “I (heart) Gay” are my favorites, but to be honest, I’d wear them all at once just to make sure no one sits next to me on the bus.


I’m just going to build a career on making fun of Katie Roiphe and Caitlin Flanagan.

Backup dream job:  shooting fish that are confined to barrels. 



Hierarchy of conversation heart taste supremacy.

In reverse order of deliciousness:

Orange.  Green.  Pink.  Purple.  Yellow.  White.  


On a scale of 1 to 10, I think I’m gonna throw up.

- A contestant for the love of Center Part Ben, right before a Rose Ceremony in week 3.

Best quote from The Bachelor ever?


This is me with Callista Gingrich hair. 
I’m going to stick with my normal color, I think.  

This is me with Callista Gingrich hair. 

I’m going to stick with my normal color, I think.  


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