“Sorry about your vagina” and other greeting cards you might need

Back off greeting card industry unless it’s to offer me my own card line featuring this amazing artwork all drawn on the notepad app on my phone while lazing on my couch. The Photogrid app helped to add and adjust text although I think I can do that in the photo editing tools on my camera roll. Plus I just learned how to add a watermark in Photoshop! (It’s a complete pain in the ass. How about nobody steals my shit??? Lets agree to that.)

I like my greeting cards funny, filthy, and sarcastic with a touch of weird. There’s never really a card that reflects what is going on in my brain. Example: “Happy Father’s Day…I guess. Meh.

I mean what card is there for my friend with cancer who has to mentally and emotionally psych herself up for her chemo treatments? I didn’t think about this aspect of chemo until she had to miss a treatment because of test results, and was devastated. It was an emotional kick in the teeth for her.

I’m not going to send her some creepy sympathy or “thinking of you” card with funeral flowers  on it and a sappy poem inside. Not my style. So I sketched up a little something for her next treatment. She deserves (a better artist) beams of sunlight radiating from her bald head. I also sent her cat hair to make a merkin, but that’s a whole other issue.img_5628a

My cards would not be complete without involving my cats!

This is for those of you who have helped your BFF pull the one giant gorilla hair out of the middle of her chest in public. C’mon, she was getting ready to get a portrait taken! Chest hair not welcome.

Or perhaps you’ve helped someone with glasses pluck her “goat hairs” off her chin because she can’t focus on them herself.


This card is threatening. One person interpreted it as uplifting and encouraging “Oh, your cat wants me to have fun”, but it was drawn with threat in mind. If you knew my cat


I anticipate my top sellers would be my “Sorry about your vagina” line.

I don’t like babies, or small children and often I dislike large children, some days I dislike most adults. What the Hell? People suck. More cats please.

So when my friends crap out babies, which they seem to do with great frequency,I’m generally more concerned with the shattered state of their bits and pieces than with the damned baby. (Who does not look like you or your spouse. It looks exactly like all the other wrinkly babies! I cannot see that it has your nose. Ugh.)


Again radiating beams of light.

I don’t like spinning. I’m pretty sure I’m doing it right, but it makes certain things hurt and not in a “Boy, I worked out today type of way!”


For when your down under feels political. I made the mistake of watching part of the live feed of the Women’s March on Washington and reading the comments as they scrolled by. Every other comment called the marchers whiny, sore losers, baby killers, and even Satanists (what?). It would be nice if people would realize that women’s rights and healthcare goes beyond abortion. The caliber of the comments made it painfully clear why this large child was voted into office where he can pick equally large children to be his playmates in a game of “Leader of the Free World.”


To end on a lighter note, we all get old and those crazy gray hairs show up…EVERYWHERE!


I am so psyched about these vagina foxes! Adorable!


Nom nom nom


I risk losing a fingertip every time, but I love seeing those little toes tap dancing to stand up and tails becoming rudders to balance. It’s just a little piece of chicken. Usually Birdie is the only one who overreacts to meat, but chicken gets the rest of the glaring grooving.


Everyone, but Sookie.

Sookie decided to show me her hardcore attitude in her own game of chicken.

Oh, she would have chicken, but she would not dance like a clown for it.


Yes, I caved and just gave her the chicken. 😦

Gotcha Day!

Snow flurries this afternoon reminded me that today is Olivia Wigglebothum’s Gotcha Day. 

We met on January4, 2014, when she showed me how good she was at selfies. I had her squishy, baby fat booty home by January 5, and she brought two Polar Vortex No School days with her. That’s a magical cat!

She wasn’t terrified in that bottom photo, just ready to eat.

The biggest miracle is that she actually slept in and still sleeps in the bed I bought her. 

She might be a little bigger now. 


Happy New Years: Insert Evil Laugh Here

Day 1 back from almost two magical weeks of doing whatever (mostly)  I damn well please.  Little to no sleep. Because why would my body go to sleep, knowing that the alarm would go off at 5:45 am? Yeah!!!

I’m so tired, I’m pretty sure I hallucinated most of my work day. 

This was an impulse buy at Target after school because ….caffeine.

Sadly, it did not smell like coffee.

 And my hair is super crazy. 

Multiple students today:”Hey, your hair looks nice. Did you do something different? Did you color it?”

Me multiple times today:”I ironed it because I can’t remember when I washed it last. Ironing it kills whatever is going on in there. The color is ‘old lady gray’ with ‘you need to dye your roots red.'”

Kids these days will cry at the drop of a hat. Weak. 

MY KIDS took it upon themselves to make  snacks today while I was at work. 

I came home to an open cabinet, a gutted bag of relatively expensive cat food, and four guilty looking cats all sitting in the living room instead of meeting me in the kitchen as per usual. 

Oddly enough, no one has asked for dinner, and I have not brought it up. 

New Year’s Resolutions: Berries! Adventures!

*Eat more berries!

*Have more adventures!

The berry eating falls under the traditional “eating better” resolution. Blueberries are my steel cut oatmeal life. However getting those berries may sometimes call for adventure.

While visiting the wild suburbs after Christmas, my hostess started screaming that there was a possum in the tree out front. It was only lunch time. A daylight possum seemed weird!

It was there chowing down on berries and studiously ignoring us, even when five “responsible” adults, an infant, and five children piled out on the porch to get within about three feet of the tree.

As a group, we unanimously backed away when the possum finally made solid eye contact.


Do not disturb my berry time!

A neighbor witnessing our idiocy, yelled over that the possum really liked that tree and had been there before. I’ve since read that while mostly nocturnal, it’s not unusual to see a possum during daylight hours especially in cold weather and when food is scarce.

(I also learned that “possum” actually refers to Australian marsupials, but is used as a North American colloquialism. We actually have “opossums.“)

Science aside, we decided that the possum was on a walk of shame back to her den, but stopped to eat her feelings. The look on her face that we backed away from was just self-loathing and fucked up mascara.

It turns out that we did not put a damper on her sense of adventure or need for berries because she was back the next day. I love that this possum looks like an extra from The Dark Crystal, and that you can see her tiny, creepy, little finger/toes in this picture.


Who’s got a pretty pink nose?! Opossum kisses!