I would do anything for sanity…but I won’t do THAT…

My friend is taking November off from all her social media, and I’m over here like, “Um, I MIGHT last a weekend…” #junkie

Eventually someone will pay me to tell that story…

It sucks seeing a Social Media Specialist job I want to apply for, requiring experience with WordPress and asking for samples. ‘Cause… I HAVE the experience. WordPress is my bitch. But it’s not like I can send them that post about a guy from OkCupid wanting to take out his fake teeth and go down on me.

I should start another blog and call it Working Clean. 🙂

(This is also my problem with local blogger meet-ups. “Hi, I write publicly about my vagina. Let’s connect professionally.”)

Kelly Bundy, Kimmy Schmidt, and the “Grey’s Anatomy” method of avoidance.

Wow. WordPress readers really love my anxiety, don’t they?

More years ago than I care to consider, there was a show called Married with Children that probably wouldn’t make it in today’s infinitely-more-PC TV landscape. I remember people being offended by it at the time, but it was the late ’80s/early ’90s and most people didn’t give a fuck.

So there was the dumb blonde bimbo daughter, Kelly (Christina Applegate). She’s more appealing than her sports-fan father, so she goes on a sports trivia show in his place. But she knows nothing about sports, so he fills her brain with trivia before the show, and for every sports fact she absorbs, a bit of basic life knowledge leaves her brain, rendering her dumbstruck (seen here) when asked to recall everyday knowledge.

That’s where I am right now. For every bit of bullshit my brain has encountered this week, I’ve lost knowledge and patience. This morning I stood in the shower with conditioner on my hair, and for just a second completely blanked on what the next step was. And I just snapped at my brother because he’s being a fucking asshole. (Though I do kind of love it when I finally give up on trying to be polite and just say what I’m thinking.)

Family issues, friend concerns, medication that’s ruining my appetite and dehydrating me, not sleeping, and additional things with That Guy, all in those 3 days of spiked blog stats… I’m out. I spent my workday NOT FUCKING WORKING, but rather ensnared in a texting clusterfuck with aforementioned brother.

Also, I know my friends love me and will listen to me, but I’m sick of being the Needy Friend — they’ve heard a LOT this week, I sent a goddamn list. (Subject line: “No advice needed; just FYI, everything is fucked.”) I’ve talked to friends, a therapist, my personal journal, and you people. I am tired of thinking and talking about my fucking feelings. I’m not even upset, per se — I just want to go home and sit there for a week or so and not talk to anyone or think about anything. Maybe just spend the whole week re-watching all of Grey’s Anatomy in my pajamas.

So yeah. I’m currently at a Bundy Brain grade 4. I’m gonna pull a reverse Kimmy Schmidt and put my ass into the doomsday bunker.

Straight pimpin’

I’ve posted this before, but it’s been a while, and new people are here (!!!). So here’s a list of all the platforms this blog lives on, in case you want to follow something different.

• Facebook
• WordPress (Duh, but there’s a “follow” button on the bottom right of the page, and I THINK that means you get each post emailed to you. You lucky duck!)
• Twitter (It auto-tweets links to WordPress.)
• Blogspot
• Instagram
• Tumblr (Auto-posts from WordPress.)
• Aaand in case you’re old-school, LIVEJOURNAL: (That’s right. Because I CARE. Though it seems LJ skipped a whole month of posts, but hopefully I just fixed that.)

WordPress is watching you.

WordPress is kind enough to track the search terms that lead people to my page.

Here are a few:

• “Miranda Lambert slutty” (If by “slutty,” you mean “fabulous.”)
• “Kerry Washington receiving oral sex” (I wish I didn’t want to see this, but I’d totally watch for at least a few minutes.)
• “Anal smug” (Nooope.)
• “americanwomanfuck” (Yes, please.)
• “woman on top sex positions” (yes, please, pretty please?)
• “glad I don’t have balls” (Always.)
• “Netflix and chill pajamas” (THAT’S THE DREAM!)

I love you all, you depraved bastards.

The quest for “small penis at whorehouse.”

According to the WordPress stats, yesterday someone found my blog by searching “small penis at whorehouse.”

Day? Made.