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BERJAYA

The other day I was looking at my pictures I’d posted from when I went ghost hunting at the Stanley Hotel and I noticed that if you enlarged one of the pictures and turned it upside down you could totally see what appears to be the ghostly face of Edward Cullen.

(upside down) Ghost hunting at the Stanley Hotel

"I sparkle."

And I realize that it’s unlikely that the ghost of a vampire played by an actor who isn’t even dead yet is showed up in my pictures, but still?  Kind of awesome.

Of course, if it was an apparition of Jesus or Justin Bieber people would be shitting themselves but since it’s the vampire from Twilight the responses I got when I posted this on flickr were anticlimactic at best:

BERJAYA

In her defense, she's only lived in America for the last 30 years.

For Chookooloonks and the other five people in the world who didn’t read Twilight:

BERJAYA

So, yeah. It's pretty fucking obvious.

PS. You know what would suck?  If you died and were turned into a vampire and then you got haunted by the ghost of yourself who was pissed off at you for getting yourself killed and she was always there for eternity, laughing at you whenever you fucked something up, or screaming really loud so you’d drop the milk jug, or waiting until you were masturbating and then popping in and be all “WHATCHA DOIN’?”  That would totally suck.

PPS.  I’m deathly sick and wrote this entire post on massive amounts of cold medication.  This is probably obvious.

PPPS.  This remind me a lot of the time that Jesus left a boobie on my yard except that people were way more impressed with the lawn boobie.  Conclusion: Boobs and/or Jesus are more relevant than Twilight.  The tide has shifted, y’all.

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A pictorial essay of things that happened yesterday:

Got waited on by Grizzly Adams.

BERJAYA

Oh, Texas.

Stuck my finger in (what I hope was) an alligator vagina.

BERJAYA

Also, no. I can't tell you what possessed me to stick my finger in a sketchy alligator orifice but it's probably the same compulsion that makes me unable to not touch all the satin in fabric stores or to not try on old hats that belong to people who may have died in them.

Contemplated how odd that last statement was.

Contemplation face:BERJAYA

"WTF, me?"

Considered buying a human skull in an antique shop.

BERJAYA

Surprisingly, I don't have a caption for this.

Watched my daughter ride a giant banana

BERJAYA

I just want to clarify that this was in the middle of a serious art gallery and I was all "No, Hailey. You can't ride the banana" and the lady at the counter was all "Oh hell. Girl, you ride that damn banana. Art is for living, not for looking at." I'm pretty sure she was high. And awesome.

Bought a vampiric doll which will eventually be used to create dioramas of creepy Blythe doll death scenes.

All in all, it was a good day.

******************************************

And now, time for the weekly wrap-up:

BERJAYA

Last week on Ask the Bloggess:

  • I got fired.  But first I quit after publicly posting my resignation letter which included threats of setting fire to my desk and ended with “Thus I tender my resignation.  Yippee Ki-Ay, motherfuckers“.  Then they said there had been a terrible mistake offered me my job back and I briefly considered it because I do actually really like the website that hosted it and I hold no grudge but I decided to pass because it was probably the most bad-ass exit I’ll ever make and you need to treasure that shit when it happens.  So Ask the Bloggess is now deleted (at my request) and I’m sure it’ll still pop up here from time to time and eventually when I’m homeless and need drug money I’ll xerox all of it and sell it to the people who pass by the bridge I live under.  It’ll be like a book signing except someone’s probably gonna get hepatitis.

What you missed on my sex column (which is satirical and vaguely safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche-canoe):

What you missed on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

What you missed on the internets:

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

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I’m behind on a deadline but I have to write this now or I will forget all the details so get ready for the most confusing, phoned-in post ever.  In fact, it’s almost all copied directly from my journal and the bulleted quotes are straight from my twitter account and so the tenses aren’t even consistent.  If this is your first time here I suggest skipping this post and instead read the one about how the lady on my GPS system is trying to murder me.

I should preface this post by saying that Neil Gaiman and Ray Bradbury have been my two living writing idols since I was a school girl and if you comment “Did you mean Neil Diamond?” I will find you and burn your house down.

On Tuesday I got to meet Neil Gaiman. This is that story…

******************

Two weeks ago:  Just read that Neil Gaiman is going to be in Austin at something called “W00tstock“.

Me: OH MY GOD, we have to go.

Victor:  Meh.  I’ve already met Neil Gaiman.  Remember back in the 90′s when I called you from Vegas and I was all “That author guy you like so much is here signing copies of some book” and you begged me to get one and so I did but then I had him make it out to me?  That was hilarious.

me:  I’m going to stab you to death in your sleep.

Victor:  Yeah, you keep saying that.  What’s W00tstock?

me:  I don’t know.  It’s like a concert for nerds, I think?  And people read stuff.  And there are…I dunno…ukuleles?  And one of the guys from  MythBusters is there.  The nice one.  And Wil Wheaton invented it, I think.  Although I don’t think he’s actually there…

Victor:  That sounds…terrible.

me:  NEIL FUCKING GAIMAN.

Victor:  I’m going to bed.

me: I’ll be in to stab you later.

******************

So then (since Victor was all Why-would-we-buy-tickets-to-something-you-can’t-even-explain-properly) I started lobbying the Houston Chronicle on twitter:

  • Dear Houston Chronicle: I’ve worked for you for years. Please send me to see @neilhimself at W00tstock in Austin. You totally owe me.
  • I’ll need a new press pass, a letter of recommendation and possibly a babysitter for the night. For my kid, I mean. Not for me.
  • Fine. For me too. Also, I’ll need money to bribe security to let me backstage. And some sort of disguise if that doesn’t work.
  • If successful I will return with an interview from @neilhimself which I will probably just make up myself after being thrown in jail.
  • Also a lock of his hair. Or his used water glass. Depends on how tight security is.

Then Neil tweeted back that the Chronicle should totally back me on this and I tweeted back “Dude, from your lips to their ears” which is a really great phrase that actually doesn’t work at all electronically.

As usual, the Chronicle ignored me completely.  It was a good call on their part.

*************************

But then(!) Victor bought me a ticket because he really is a good guy underneath it all and also because I started leaving a butcher knife beside his pillow every morning.  He also bought a ticket for himself because I “can’t be trusted alone” and Neil agreed to meet me to answer my single interview question and that’s when I realized that I would most likely end up standing him up because the only thing more terrifying than the thought of never meeting your idols is the thought of them actually having to meet you.  But then my friend Meago was all “No. The scariest thing ever is having dead army generals chase you around with chainsaws for hands” and she has a point.

**************************

It’s the day of W00tstock.  I still haven’t come up with a good one-question interview so instead I just decided to use the completely inappropriate interview question that I’d asked all the contestants last month when I was judging a Texas Beauty Contest as the acting Czar of Martindale, Texas (Beauty pageant story still to come, promise) but it seems a moot point because Neil missed his flight and so I assumed my 10 minutes with him would probably be cut.

  • I’m supposed to meet @neilhimself in a few hours but he missed his flight & I haven’t even showered yet. The fates are aligning against us.
  • And by “the fates” I mean “our apparently common lack of responsibility”.
  • Unless @neilhimself missed his first flight bc he stopped to rescue drowning orphans. Then I’m the only irresponsible one.
  • Although *technically* I’m saving water over here and that’s totally responsible. And practically as good as saving orphans.
  • Conclusion: @neilhimself and I are goddamn American heroes.
  • Except that he’s English. Hell.

************************

Eventually though I did manage to shower and get out the door and when I plugged in the address of the theater into our GPS it said it was 66.6 miles away, which seemed an ominous sign so I immediately told Victor to circle around the block once to add at least .1 miles to the trip but he refused because he doesn’t take the apocalypse seriously.

************************

Victor in the car: I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this thing.  They’d better freeze someone in carbonite or something or I’m gonna be pissed.

me: Dude, you’re gonna love it. It’s like Woodstock, but for nerds.

Victor:  I’m not a nerd.  This whole thing was organized by some damn Star Trek guy.  If Harrison Ford was doing this I guarantee you Neil Gaiman would already fucking be here.

me: Okay, seriously? You’re talking about freezing people in kryptonite and comparing Han Solo to Wesley Crusher on the basis of their organizational skills. It’s like this event was made for you.

Victor:  Are you fucking kidding me?! CARBONITE. Kryptonite is what you use to fight Superman.  I will pull this damn car over.

me:  Okay, now you’re just proving my point for me.

**************

  • Victor: Is that a fucking *dog* in your purse? Me: no. It’s an emergency wig. Victor: OF COURSE IT IS.

**************

  • At the restaurant outside the theatre. On the menu: “shoulder”.
  • Me: How’s the shoulder?  Waitress: It’s delicious.  Me: Do you have any ankle?
  • Because that’s how classy I am. I order my ankle off-menu. I should probably stop drinking.
  • By the way, they aren’t serving ankle tonight. Apparently. This is a terrible restaurant.

************

  • In the lobby at #w00tstock. Victor is the only person in this theatre not live-tweeting this shit out.

************

W00tstock has  started.  It is awesome and unexplainable.  It’s like if the Internet and science had a bad-ass baby.  That cursed a lot.  And played the ukulele.  It’s complicated.

************

Intermission.  Victor and I are taken down lots and lots of stairs and I start to suspect we’re going to be mugged but then suddenly there’s Neil Gaiman and I reminded myself to calm down because I’ve met a lot of famous people and I never get fan-girly but it’s too late because OMGNEILGAIMAN.  Then I hugged him and thanked him for helping me with my book and welcomed him to Austin as an official czar of Texas.

BERJAYA

I like how it looks like I'm a vampire since I don't show up in the reflection. Also, the look on Neil's face is totally "How the hell did you get in here? Why are we in a bathroom?" Awesome.

He was gracious and sweet and seemed vaguely baffled by me but in a very charming way and I explained that at the Miss Kyle Texas beauty pageant I’d been allowed to ask the contestants a question and that none of them had been able to answer it to my satisfaction so I thought he could give it a go and he was like “Of course.  Please continue” and I took a deep breath and asked gravely “In an epic battle for world domination between unicorns and zombies, who would win?”  Then Victor gave me a look like “WTF?” because he honestly had no idea that was my question but Neil (without pause, like the bad-ass he is) stated confidently “Unicorns, of course”.  And I was a little shocked at how quickly he came up with his answer so I was all “Okay, show your math” and he explained that “unicorns not only had the ability to run the zombies through with their horns but also they would be able to hoove the zombies and they’d all turn to sludge.  There would be sludge everywhere but unicorns would be victorious” and I probably should have just said “Exactly!” but instead I was all “No.  That’s not the right answer at all but I will give you extra points for using ‘hoove’ as a verb because I’d honestly never even considered how much hooving would be going on with unicorns”.

Then I’d like to think that he asked me what my opinion was because that would seem less insane than what really happened, which is that I proceeded to tell him exactly how the zombie/unicorn showdown would go down (utterly unasked for).   I explained that the zombies win because (as we all know) unicorns can only appear to virgins and so all the unicorns would be forced to hang out in elementary school halls while the zombies continue to multiply into enormous hordes and so the unicorn numbers would stay exactly the same because unicorns are all about innocence so it’s not like they’re going to have sex in front of school children so mathematically the zombies would win by sheer number.  Then Neil and Victor just stared at me and I was all “It’s science” and then Neil conceded that he did see my point but that it wasn’t like zombies are having sex and multiplying either and I clarified that I meant they were multiplying by being bitey, not by having zombie sex and he was all “Ah, obviously” and then I may have said something about how zombie porn is a pretty-much untapped market and Neil may have agreed with me.  It all got kind of fuzzy and I began wishing I hadn’t hit the bar before coming.  Victor just sort of stayed quiet and gave me a look that said “For the love of God, stop talking“.  Then we discussed how we could only really settle this with a control group of unicorns and zombies and that this is exactly the kind of  shit that really should be covered on MythBusters, which was made all the more surreal by the fact that Adam Savage was standing right at the door as we were discussing this but Adam wasn’t really paying attention because he was too busy talking to the chick that was on MST3K.  This is all true, y’all.

Then I asked Neil if I could take a picture with him but I wanted something different since everyone takes the same picture with Neil Gaiman and I asked if we could pretend to be bunnies or something and he was all “Wait.  I have just the thing” and he pulled out a monkey hat from his suitcase.  He suggested that we pose as “serious authors” in an American Gothic sort of way and so we did.  And it was awesome.

BERJAYA

Even in the monkey hat he still manages to look more distinguished than me.

Then he asked if I wanted to wear the monkey hat and of course I said no because that would be ridiculous.

BERJAYA

*cough*

Then we said goodbye and as Victor and I walked up the stairs I was all “Dude.  I just got to meet one of my heroes.  This would be like if you got to meet…I dunno…Doc Oc” and Victor was like “Yeah, he’s a nice guy.  But who the fuck chooses unicorns over zombies?” and I was all “Well, he’s unpredictable like that”.

Also, I apologize here to Neil for being so gushy and I promise to never again be that overtly fan-girly unless Ray Bradbury suddenly starts tweeting or Dorothy Parker rises from the grave.  I suspect the latter is more possible.

PS.  My friend Karen has a theory that the unicorns would win because even if they killed a unicorn the zombies would eat the unicorn blood and then turn back into people since JK Rowling says that unicorn blood can bring you back from the dead, but I assured her that JK Rowling is not part of the zombie canon and that zombies have lost their souls so even if unicorn blood did make them alive again they’d still be soul-less zombies except that now they’d be super fast and not slow-and-lumbering because they wouldn’t have to deal with rigor mortis anymore and she was all “My God. You’ve really thought this through”.  And yes. Yes, I have.

PPS.  Yes, I know some people will say that zombies are so 2009 and that I should move on but I’m sorry but cholera was so 1892 but I’m still pretty fucking concerned about that too.  Plus, cholera won’t eat your face off and also those who don’t remember history are doomed to repeat it.  Except that the zombie apocalypse  hasn’t even happened yet so we don’t even have past evidence to go on.  Continued vigilance, y’all.

PPPS.  I still can’t really explain what W00tstock is but this 30 seconds of the hosts of W00tstock forcing the sign language interpreters to sign “elephant spunk” over and over is pretty indicative of its general awesomeness.

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Wow. I could not even make this shit up y’all. You know how whenever I get a particularly terrible form-letter PR pitch I fuck with the marketer for as long as possible because I’m a terrible person and it’s entertaining to me?  Well, I do.   90% of the time I never get a response from my initial reply but occasionally these emails take on a life of their own. This is one of those times:

Hi Thebloggess.com,

Hope this note finds you well and you are enjoying your Wednesday. I also
wanted to say what a fabulous website!!! I really enjoyed going through
it, especially the “You would see the biggest gift would be from me and
the card attached would say “Thank you for helping me dig up my dead
dog”.”
post. Being a mother to a 2 year old and now pregnant with twins,
I am constantly searching for valuable information to use from the
blogosphere community. It is always neat to hear other mother’s/father’s
perspectives.  Isn’t being a parent so rewarding!!!

I also wanted to introduce myself to you. I am the editor-in-chief for
BabySignLanguage.com. I wanted to see if you would be interested in helping us spread the
word about exactly what Baby Sign Language is all about. We would love to
do an guest post on Baby Sign Language for your blog. Not sure if you even
allow guest posts, but thought I’d ask and see. I would write an exclusive article
in exchange for a link to our site at the end of the article. There are many topics
that I thought your readers would enjoyfrom our baby sign language expert.
Alternatively, if you prefer another topic just let me know and I can write anything of your
choice. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Thanks again, Misty

*****************************

Let’s just clarify here. This email is addressed to a website. I got this email on a Thursday. The post she said she enjoyed was the one where I had to dig up my recently deceased dog. It’s pretty clear that Misty had never read my blog before and thus I had no compunction whatsoever about fucking with her. My response:

Hi Misty!
Sounds like a great program but as you probably know from my blog, my child was
born without hands, so I’m not sure signing is a viable option. I assume your
sign language program is adaptable to feet?

Hugs, Jenny

To my great shock and delight, Misty was on board with this project:

Hi Jenny,

I would love to write an article on using baby sign language with your feet. Hopefully this will help other families out as well. I will get the article to you as soon as it is written. Please give me 3 weeks at the latest to get it to you. If you have any questions or need the article sooner then please let me know.

Have a great day!!!
Misty

At this point I started to feel bad that she was working on a guest post that would never be printed so I quickly responded:

I’m sorry, Misty. I probably should have clarified before that my
hand-less child is actually a cat. My husband said that some people don’t
understand when you refer to your pets as “your children” but I can assure
you that Mr. SnugglePants is more than family to me. I’m assuming that
your segment on sign language for hand-less children would translate well
for handless cats? My only concern is that most human children have 10
toes but Mr. SnugglePants was born with 12 toes, which I can only assume
was God’s way of making up for Mr. SnugglePants missing hands. Will that
be an issue?

Just let me know.
~Jenny

I suspected that would be the last I heard from Misty. I was so. fucking. wrong.

Hi Jenny,

Sorry for the confusion. I’m not sure how that would work and wouldn’t want to offend anyone by this. I am definitely not an expert in cat signing. Sorry about this.

Misty

And then I just felt bad. Because either Misty is completely clueless or she’s just really, really, really polite. So instead of fanning the flames I decided to stop the madness:

Oh Misty. I kind of want to just hug you. I have to come clean here. My cats are all fully-formed, normal-toed, and just terrible at sign language. I’m sorry. To be honest, I was just fucking with you because that’s what what I do when I get form letters from people telling me how much they enjoyed the post I wrote about my dead dog. Then I post the letters on my blog with no guilt but you’re so damn nice that I just feel terrible. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to post this on my blog and at the end I’m totally going to pimp out your sign language thingie. Because your naivete is motherfucking charming.

Hugs,
me

And, true to my word, I would like to recommend Babysignlanguage.com if you have a baby who refuses to speak to you, or an adequately-toed cat.  Also, NO ONE YELL AT MISTY.  She’s pregnant with twins and is probably very, very tired.  We’re giving her the benefit of the doubt here because she (totally unintentionally) made my whole week a little brighter.  Bless her heart.

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My friend Neil sent me a link to strange pictures of century-old Halloween costumes but it was this picture that really caught my eye because it’s basically a party game where you put a bunch of children in a room with an open flame and also you put the candle on a low table on top of a rug that’s made out of what appears to be the most easily combustable material ever, which is on top of another rug for some reason because apparently just one uneven rug wouldn’t be unstable enough and then you blind the children with blindfolds that I can only assume are soaked in lighter fluid and napalm.  Awesome.

BERJAYA

Oh. This is a terrible mistake.

This is what I was thinking of at Hailey’s Halloween Carnival which featured such amazing games as “stand in line to dig for candy in small pile of dusty hay on the sidewalk”.  Time’s up when you find a piece of candy or have a severe asthma attack.

BERJAYA

It's not quite as dangerous but comparatively, the set-your-children-on-fire game at least had style.

Also, this is what Hailey dug out of the hay pile:

BERJAYA

According the lady standing next to me it's a "severed nose". Supposedly. Also on the back it says that you shouldn't eat it if you're allergic to nuts. No joke. I am the only one at the entire carnival that laughed at this.

**********

And now for my (two-weeks late) update on what I was doing when I wasn’t here:

BERJAYA

What you missed on Ill-Advised:

    What you missed on my sex column (which is satirical and vaguely safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche-canoe):

    What you missed on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

    What you missed on the internets:

    • I convinced my friend Karen to come photograph me for a SexIs Magazine covershoot (out next year).  We did the shoot in a studio above a saloon that advertised badger fights and live alligator pits.  Then I ended up walking though downtown in a bondage corset.  If we didn’t live in rural Texas all of this would probably seem odd. Sneak peak of some behind the scenes shots here.

    Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

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