Sick, Fucked Up Books Make For Great Reads

i recently finished what i would say is my new favorite book.
sharp objects
by gillian flynn
it is supremely fucked up and all things terrible.  an incredible twist focusing on women as nasty, conniving characters.  none of this women being victims bullshit or simply that women are on the receiving end of awful behavior and the results of said awful behavior.  in this book, women are presented as horrible human beings - hell bent on inflicting pain and damage if it benefited them.  we very seldom see women presented as they are in this book and it's quite refreshing.  and if you'd like, the author wrote a little essay about her book here.
for the love of all that's holy - read this fucking book.
because it has everything.  drug use, sexual exploits, creepy, fucked up small town bullshit, deep seated family issues, murder, psychological issues, etc.
there is something about the way the author writes that makes you sympathize and hate all at the same time.  not to mention that although some parts are completely fucked up - you can't help but judge yourself a little because at one point in your life - you've thought along those exact same lines.
the quote below is like an honest slap in the face.  because who doesn't or hasn't used alcohol as a buffer, an excuse, an escape, or as a way to cope?
"i've always been partial to the image of liquor as lubrication - a layer of protection from all the sharp objects in your head."
not to mention that it simply refuses to let women be standby characters.  it pushes back when it tries to pigeon-hole women as soft characters.  it serves to prove that women be just as sick, sadistic, and fucked up as many male characters can be.  it's nice to be able to read something that's not so cliche when it comes to women.
this book forces you to face some of the awful truths about the character of women and that those personality traits, to some extent, exist in all of us.

"sometimes i think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom.  i have known so many sick women all my life.  women with chronic pain, with ever-gestating diseases.  women with conditions.  men, sure, they have bone snaps, they have backaches, they have a surgery or two, yank out a tonsil, insert a shiny plastic hip.  women get consumed."

The Day I Made the Milwaukee Public Market My Bitch

as a rule - i dislike milwaukee.
but i've discovered one redeeming quality.
the milwaukee public market.
it's like sensory, hipster overload.  and i loved every minute of it.

i wanted to eat and buy everything.
see below:

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a day wouldn't be complete without some cheese sampling.  don't even get me started on the lunatic that just about knocked Foy and i out of the way in her haste to get to the cheese.

then we found this fucking hipster with a badass fucking shirt.

and hot damn.  these little nuggets are fantastic.

i wish i was going back soon.
but it'll probably be a year till i journey back to that godforsaken city.

Run DMC Gets Major Pussy

It's Fucked Up That I'll Probably Never Be A Lumberjack

i'm obsessed with flannel. 
and anything with a checkered pattern. 
and anything lumber-jack related.
don't judge me.
here are some examples.

i also have some in red, blue, and pink.  in retrospect i could have gotten a pile of them together and taken a picture.  eh.  hindsight.
here's some photographic evidence of me stealing the flannel that lincoln got from his parents for xmas.

and most importantly, seven brides for seven brothers.

i've watched this movie a gazillion times and i can't for the life of me remember whether the brothers are lumberjacks or not.  but at one point in the movie i know they're chopping wood.  and that's good enough for me.  i guess it's mainly about a bunch of brothers that can't let any of their other brothers have a tiny bit of individuality.
but what i do know is that i would like to be a lumberjack for day.  mainly for the flannel.
ok only for the flannel. 
and only if i could get a blue ox named babe like paul bunyan.

but that won't happen.  i just have Chuck McCat.  and he's terrible with an ax.

Pussy Poppin'

The Salty Taste in My Mouth

over at one of my favorite blogs she does a piece where she covers things that are making her "ridiculously happy."  check her out.

i'd like to do a spin on that, but just for this week, because i've been happier than normal and i can only contribute it to things i've encountered this week.
1. the civil wars - i've had them on my iPhone for weeks but have just went hardcore on listening to them this week.  it is pure love.
2. this organizer i got for my desk.  i thought it was going to be bigger but when i received it and realized it was baby size - i loved it even more.

3. teaching people lessons.
4. being a bitch.
**sidenote.  3 & 4 often go together.  two birds, people.  two.  birds.
5. anything serial killer related  like this which then leads me to this picture that i discovered the other day:

6. b sent me this last week and i keep forgetting about it.

it's the little things i guess.  i think i'm coming down from my happiness high - because i'm not that happy currently. 
but i also i think it has to do with the fact that there's a highly anticipated rape scene in the book i'm reading and i haven't gotten to it yet.  and i'm getting impatient.  and being impatient makes me unhappy.

In Which I Say Fuck Off to SOPA

publishing freedom is a right we must protect. 
and protect it we shall.
click here to join the fight.

i realize i didn't really say much.  but the above people say it better.
and SOPA would literally ruin everything.

so do your part.  join the fight.  let's all say "fuck off" to SOPA.

Tumor Muffin Cometh.

here i stand.  i can do no other.
martin luther said that.
but i'm not standing.  i'm sitting.
because i'm weak. 
this weekend was hard on my mind, body, and soul.
it began with this:

i got so excited when my entrée came that i immediately shoveled it into my mouth without taking a picture. 
i make no apologies.  that shrimp and crab cannelloni was orgasmic.
nothing got too out of hand, thank god, which is surprising considered i packed in 5 drinks and 3 shots.

i'm currently in a food and alcohol comatose state.
monday i resume my diet and i could not be more excited for that.
in the meantime i've managed to pack in the following:

it looks like i'm obsessed with breakfast foods.
but in reality - i'm just obsessed with all food.
like this:

or inappropriate things like these:

b and i are working on murdering this:

well, with that, i must bid thee farewell.
i have a lot of drinking and bad decisions to fit into a single afternoon.
wish me luck.

Game Changer? Vibrator Necklace.

i went to one of those filthy sex toy parties this afternoon.
it felt like i'd finally come home.  finally made that trip to the holy land.
nothing like a table full of vibrators and lube to really brighten someone's day.
i tried to be nice and ask lincoln if he wanted me to get him anything.  so i sent him this picture of some options:

that's fine.  that's just the last time i'll offer to ever get him anything.

i got some tingly balm for your lips and nipples:

and this.  my new necklace:

and in the spirit of all things phallic shaped - i'm going to go eat another brat.

Drunken Photo Booth

[gallery order="DESC" orderby="rand"]

i've started three different blogs. the alcohol fog hasn't dispersed from my brain yet so i can't seem to focus on anything.
the pineapple upside down vodka monstrosity that i'm sipping on probably doesn't help.

Three Things That Made Me LOL Today

The Fucking Trepidation Takes Over

today is the day.
the day i eat and drink my face off. 
and while i was initially very excited - i'm now terrified. 
terrified for how shit-tastic i will feel.
terrified for the hangover.
bear with me.  i've been eating shit like this for the last 75 days:

i've been fantasizing about this each and every day since i've started this diet:

i'm not even exaggerating about thinking about tacos everyday.  just ask shitler.  if i remembered what i dreamt about every night i bet it would be about tacos.
so tonight i feast.
while i'm sure it will be partly glorious, i'm convinced it will be mostly awful on my body and liver and i'll want to die.
so to recap.
orginially, i felt like this:

now it's more like this: 

Dear Chingy - I Miss You

remember chingy?
i do.
fondly.

back in college, N and i used to listen to him and ludacris while we raped mario kart and donkey kong on the super nintendo.
for whatever reason, the other night i got some chingy song stuck in my head and tried to serenade lincoln. then i tried to make him watch the video.
he wasn't having it.
but i bet you'll have it:

that's some powerful shit.
ps. the end is my favorite part. with all the hoes.

Textual Feeling: Menace 2 Sobriety

i was bored this morning - so i perused my textual conversation with b.
here's a rag-tag bunch of shit that doesn't go together other than that it's all ridiculous:
me: mmmm.  redzone
b: fuck you.  thanks for rubbing it in.  i'm about to eat quiche!
**
b: i'm a little disappointed in you right now.
me: i had to give people balls.
b: you should have dyed the frosting blue.
me: fitting.  the next batch.
**
me: i just saw the delorean.
b: wait, THE delorean?
me: it could very well have been.
b: could you see the flux capicitor?  that's the only way to know for sure.
me: i couldn't.  it was going too fast.
b: fast enough to time travel?
me: i'd like to think so.
b: me too.
me: because if you can't believe in the delorean, what can you believe in?
b: nothing.  besides, maybe back to the future was based on a true story and we don't even know it.
me: we should watch it.  for scientific purposes.
b: of course.  sometimes you have pretty good ideas.
**
b: happy new year slut.
me: happy new year asshat.
b: go fuck yourself.
me: done.
b: amen.
**
me: next weekend.  cancel all your plans.  i'm getting "i need to get my stomach pumped because i have alcohol poisoning" drunk.
b: let me check my schedule.
**
with all due respect to my liver - i'm going to punish it this weekend.
i make no apologies.

here's hoping that this weekend will simultaneously turn out to be the best and worst one of my life.  lincoln told me to be reasonable -but i can't make any promises.

my weekend consists of:
dildos
binge eating
vodka
debauchery
work
being hungover
making bad choices

here's a picture of what i think is my game face:

Techno Jeep

lincoln just got home and showed me this. 
it changed my life.

i wish my friends and i did shit like this.
but i don't have that many friends.

It's Not As Cold As It Should Be - And That Frightens Me.

remember how i'm doing that photo challenge? this week's theme is "cold."
and for january - one would think that living in the great state of wisconsin that it wouldn't be a problem to find some badass shots. but it's difficult to do so when winter has been dominated with 40 degree temperatures. the lake isn't frozen so all i hear is lincoln bitching about how he can't ice fish and there's zero snow to be found.
all in all, it's depressing.
depressing because i'm terrified of what spring will be like.
will we get four feet of snow in may?
will summer be a bunch of bullshit?
whose with me?
whose scared shitless?
i managed to get some average photos though (it helps that i wake up at the ass crack of dawn every morning, regardless if i have to or not):

this weekend has been exhausting. and i think that's the main reason why this post is barely entertaining. lincoln was in IL and i had to work. and there's nothing quite like having to wait on douchebags all weekend...
makes me want to kill myself.

check out this motherfucker