I'm a bitch for GOD
Crack
Every morning I listen to NPR while I get dressed because I am a well-meaning white person with a small amount of disposable income that I mostly use on beer and beanie babies. Anyways, the other day I thought they said that “crying is up on trains” and a full two minutes went by before I realized they meant “crime” because I definitely bought that crying is up. I mean have you BEEN on the train lately? It makes sense. Once I was on a train delayed by a “human waste incident”. I have also based it on empirical evidence I have collected from my eyes. Eyes filled with tears.
I was walking home at 10pm on a Sunday a few weeks ago (muy escandalo) and there was a woman just bawling in front of me on the sidewalk. It was so awkward because I wanted to give her space, but also I am *straightens collar and smirks* a pretty fast walker, so I was gaining on her like a sexy serial killer in a 90’s thriller. So I had to make myself slower, and just walk behind her all creepy-like. Finally she made it to her apartment, crying the whole time as she unlocked the door. Sigh, nothing is ever private when you live in a city. At least if I lived alone in the woods I could scream and cry to my heart’s delight
Pigeon Report
Sorry to say no good pigeon sightings recently, so I’ll regale you with a tale from this summer. Whilst lounging on Rockaway Beach, sipping a by-then overly warm nutcracker, I was so lucky to watch a full on BRAWL between some seagulls and pigeons over potato chips. Seeing a pigeon at the beach is always so jarring. Like, I came all the way out here to the literal Atlantic Ocean so I don’t have to see your crusty ass, and now here you are. Despite the fact the seagulls were twice as large as the likely-maggot-filled pigeons, the pigeons won. Ya gotta respect that kind of chutzpah if nothing else. And only a pigeon could make me like a seagull, another cursed bird if I ever saw one.
Grade: Christ, I don’t know, D because nothing makes sense anymore when it comes to pigeons
(Art: me)
Are you okay? Checking in on my favorite d-listers
Kids who grew up with cable will never really understand me. While kids with cable were watching age appropriate cartoons, I came home from school each day, eager to watch re-runs of Reba, country-star Reba McEntire’s dumb-as- hell sitcom. I’ve probably seen more episodes of that show then I have Game of Thrones. Honestly maybe it IS my Game of Thrones. That show sucks, like even then I knew it sucked, but what were my alternatives? At that point I could recite the Rocket Chef food processor ads in my sleep.
However I do love Reba as a musical artist. “Fancy” should have won the Nobel Prize. A pop song about prostitution AND childhood abandonment? In this ECONOMY? Perfect.
This will come as a shock to literally no one but Reba was dating a guy named Skeeter, but now they’ve broken up. I have always wondered what Skeeter was short for, and even googling it doesn’t help.
According to Closer:
“Don’t shed any tears for Reba. Single or attached, there’s no stopping her,” the source close to the 64-year-old beauty exclusively shared with Closer”
I would bet every beanie baby I own, that the source is…(Maury audience screams in anticipation) REBA.
Grade: C- She seems a little desperate to appear “okay” after breaking up. Frankly having someone named Skeeter dump me would rock me to my very core, so I don’t blame her.
Photo Credit: Gage Skidmore/Flickr
The weirdest shit I saw on Craigslist recently
You would think, as someone who goes on Craigslist an unconscionable amount of times in any given month that I would be well-versed in the collectible section. Well think again Professor Plum, because I had NOT and I have now found my new favorite place on the internet. I want everything in this section. There are so many haunted dolls. So. Many.
Perhaps the most haunted of all is this old Ken doll, and his main selling point is that you can record your voice and he’ll say it back to you in a way (as my boyfriend helpfully noticed) that makes it sound like he’s a helicopter operator in the Vietnam War. Hot. Full demonstration here.
It’s really sad that the children in that ad need their doll to tell them they’re beautiful. I don’t have enough time in this newsletter, nor am I paid enough as an unlicensed™ therapist to dive into that.
Photo (Craigslist screenshot)
Hints from Hellouise
My cat has taken to jumping up on the sink and licking whatever debris she finds in there because she is a literal garbage baby. I’ve been punishing her by spraying her with a water bottle when she does it because it’s pretty fun and if I’m feeling dramatic I can end it “Point Break” style and point it up in the air while screaming. It really works. And by works, I mean she’s in the sink right now eating cheerios.
Shit you really ought to read
Some of this is a bit old, but given my brief hiatus, you’re just going to have to live with that.
That Marianne Mind$et: Obeying the Law of Divine Compensation-Tessa Stuart, Rolling Stone. I kind of hate the fact Marianne Williamson is running at all, because she’s clearly insane and unqualified, but I will read all and any profiles of this nut. If nothing else, for anecdotes like this, “It was in the middle of a dispute at the time, around whether or not to open an event with a prayer, that one of her associates called Williamson a bitch. “Maybe,” she recalls replying, but if she were, she was a “bitch for God.”
How Many People Have to Die Before We’re Done With Gender Reveals?-Julie Beck, The Atlantic. Wow, who knew how dangerous this stupid hetero tradition was?
Un-bee-lievable! Long Island couple living with monster hive of 120,000 bees-Natalie O’Neill, The New York Post. The only reason this is an interesting piece is because I now know of NYPD’s former bee expert, Anthony “Tony Bees” Planakis. TONY BEES.
Your weekly jam
FKA Twigs-home with you. My dudes, Magdalene is so good. So so good. It fills the Kate Bush sized hole that never leaves my heart. Go listen to it right now. Git boy! You hear me? GIT.