Proof to fuel my hatred of clothing

I was gonna fix the title to say “clothing retailers”, but no, I think I’m to the point of hating all clothes and just being a nudist or wearing rags. I’m good with either at this point. But anyway.

I’m invited to two more weddings this year, which is fantastic and to which I look forward, no question. But of course, what to wear? So long story short, I hate most “normal” dresses and shopping in person so I went to Cute stuff. Normal-ish, but sometimes quirky. As an online clothier, they have a great system (on their app anyway) to let you filter by your measurements. You get to see the items ladies with your (reported) measurements commented on. Sweet! So I put mine in and then proof of my rage:


Nothing for me. There it is in writing, at last. So I’m bummed, but then I’m like ok, definitely my limiting factor has to be my height, right? Sure enough, there are tons of recommendations (ok, 32) from women my size, but shorter. Like 5 inches shorter. Like 11 inches shorter. And even they say the waists hit them “in a weird place”.

Alrighty. Sigh. So I’m glad we all have unique bodies blah blah. But society and wedding etiquette dictate we should cover em up.

I’m a societal outcast and now officially have no options. Naturally, this calls for chocolate.

And then I realize hey, I have a sewing machine. And double hey, I even know how to use it. Triple that, I know how to see from patterns and can sometimes even figure simpler cuts out without a pattern.

So fuck it all. I’m doing this. I’m cleaning my desk right now, getting myself a sewing area (super swears that machine is under there somewhere, probably supporting the murloc).


And know what? Chiffon might be too lofty to aim for. Draping might be difficult without a dress form. But I’m going for this, which btw is straight up a 90 year-old dress. Looks amazing. Oh, and it’s a “day dress”. Ha!


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Supernatural obsession

Ok, it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but thanks to every season being available on Netflix, I’m now quite obsessed with Supernatural. It doesn’t help that people have spotted one of the stars here in  my hometown. Following their Twitter accounts isn’t making things better, either. Am I a stalker? I think I might be a stalker.

Legal and psychological technicalities aside, I just really like the humor. They are right up my alley, especially Castiel and Bobby. Here are some faves I strung together. Y’welcome.

Ok, fine, it’s just me here. You’re welcome, future me. Also, they get bonus points for a freaking Charles Bukowski reference. Man, I miss Boston all over again.

bobby bukowski Cas_trying_to_lie

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What exactly are they worshipping there?


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Brace yourself for my exciting life of toilets

Yep. It’s my last day of get-to-do-anything-I-want while MBF is outta town, and what am I doing? You know it: watching toilet videos, mofos!

I won’t even apologize.

Screen Shot 2014-07-21 at 7.00.47 PMBut what I will share (no, not the toilet video) is how WILDLY the prices vary between Blowes and Home Despot.

Same exact product, 3x the price (check the model number to geek out with me):

Anyway, that’s my story tonight. Shopping for toilets (also overpriced at b’Lowes) and pool thermometers. Yeppp. Dang. Now I’m sad.

Screen Shot 2014-07-21 at 8.23.26 PM

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Foxy Shazam stuck in my head

A break from my crusading for environmental and human egalitarianism. I shall now rock out on my day off.

This band is stuck in my head so hard right now. I saw them a couple years ago when they opened for Slash at Stubbs. I hadn’t heard of them, and then I couldn’t forget them. As much as I loooooove LOOOOVE Slash, I think I actually might have enjoyed their performance more. Not that seeing Slash wasn’t great, and not that he didn’t still “have it”. They just.. blew my face off.

They’re basically a bunch of frontmen-type stars who each play their own gig, but then together. So instead of having an epic frontman with a huge feather coat and tight Freddie Mercury pants (which he has, plus FM’s chops) supported by mellow, competent musicians, they have that AND an insane keyboardist, flamboyant trumpet player, and everyone in between. The guitarist soloed and the lead singer jumped onto his shoulders, mid-solo; the trumpet player threw his trumpet high enough to get caught in the lights (it didn’t) and coordinated super-fast high kicks and dips; the keyboardist picked up his full-sized, wired keyboard and played it like a key-tar, then threw it into the crowd and surfed to it, seated himself on the crowd’s hands, and proceeded to play while he and his keyboard surfed around. Go read about the keyboardist. Evidently this kind of stage antics is totally normal for all of them.

And they produced this gem, which I loved from that moment and now (again) have stuck in my head. Look, I can’t stand the often moronic over-sexualization of the female butt. But damned if I don’t love this song IN THE FACE. And if asses aren’t your thing, the second video might be more your speed. I like that song, too.


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Do yourself a favor

Do whatever you need to watch this RIGHT NOW. Or soon anyway.

Thank you, Weird Al.

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Mud mailbox=enjoy the week of rain

Screen Shot 2014-06-23 at 11.30.03 AMYep. I almost-but-didn’t-finish up my adobe (mud) and glass, ahem “mosaic” art mailbox yesterday. Since it is not yet sealed against moisture, and since my mother is likewise building with an unsealed, permeable material on her house, we will all now enjoy a week of thunderstorms. Starting now.

Notice how today there wasn’t even a thunderstorm listed? Welp, it’s a’raining and thundering at my place right now. So, yeah. You’re welcome, aquifers.

Here’s the last pic I took yesterday, during a break when my hands were clean. There is another layer on top of these upright bottles now, too. Update 6-25: the back 3 bottles upright in this picture (plus the entire layer above them that isn’t pictured) collapsed in this morning’s rain. Next time, they get cement from the get-go.




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