My version of The Lovely Bones. Based on a true story.

My name was The Checkout Girl, because I worked in a grocery store for a living, and I died on January 31, 2010. It was a sad sort of death, the details of which were never revealed because to laugh at the expense of the dead is the worst kind of comedy, but I’ll tell you here because I’m totally deceased and don’t give a crap what you think of me.

I was walking my tiny chihuahua along the busy street that ran in front of my apartment. It was late at night, the day after a terrible storm, and my boots were covered with snow and my hands numb from the cold, as I impatiently waited for the dog to do her business. She circled time and again as if the fate of the world depended on the exact placement of her shit. Finally, she found the right location, too close to the road for my taste, and squatted to do her business. Just as she got comfortable, a car came barreling toward us, seemingly unable to see the fat girl in her pajamas or her tiny dog depositing a steamy pile of poo, so perfectly framed in its headlights. As I tried to pull the dog and myself out of the path of the oncoming car, she resisted, and I slipped on a patch of ice and tumbled ass over teakettle into some squishy freezing mud. I nearly soiled myself as the vehicle flew by, never slowing. Oh, did I say I died? I meant I killed my dog. The end.

President - Class of 2010, Trimester 2

Pitch: Fetus School, a sitcom about a class of sassy babies still in utero. Ripe for such gems as:

“Who’s your homewomb teacher?”

and

“If I bring home one more ‘F’, my mom’s gonna miscarry!”

Why am I not superfamous yet? This shit is gold.

The newest entry in my 100 Bad Dates saga has been posted at RVA News. Read it to experience the magic of a gay date (gate?) and find out what it’s like to play football in the closet.

Bad Date #89

Boss: “Why are the ‘New Baby’ cards filed under ‘Sympathy’?”

Me: *raises eyebrow*

Boss: “Every time I start a conversation with you, I immediately regret it.”

*pic borrowed from whythefuckdoyouhaveakid.com

Having been inundated with emails from angry Hooters Girls concerned readers, I thought I’d take a few moments to answer the question that’s on nobody’s everybody’s lips: Where the hell have you been?

* Visitin’: My parents flew in from soggy sunny San Diego. It was a delicious stew of angst, embarrassment, pain, nostalgia, and love. I napped like a hibernating bear after having gotten word that they’d arrived home safely. Family dynamics are like herpes, you may not die from it but it’ll cause you suffering until something else finally kills you.

* Learnin’: As you may or may not remember, it was suggested to me, by a mean ol’ Judge, that I attend a driver’s education program, because I had earned myself a speeding ticket. My first ever. Well, it might have slipped your mind because it was SO long ago. Mine, too. In fact, I woke up the other night from a dead sleep, sat straight up, and said, quite out loud, “HOLY FUCKBALLS I FORGOT TO GO TO TRAFFIC SCHOOL!” The good news is, I still have like ten days. The bad news is because of my poor planning I don’t have time to actually ATTEND classes, so I am stuck in this weird online classroom hell. Oh, except VA law states you have to take your final exam IN PERSON so what is the damn point of damn offering the damn class damn online? Anyway, it’s full of suck and the kicker is you have to stay on each page of useless facts for a certain amount of time even if you are finished reading so in the end it’s 8 hours anyway but without the benefit of sitting in a classroom of highly bloggable fascinating people.

* Readin’: I’ve discovered a few new obsession-worthy websites, recently. Being that I am an extremely thorough person, when I find one I like I have to start at the first post (sometimes years old) and read forward. There is a bit of sadness when I finally get current and have to wait for the person to post again. Like, in real time. Anyway, they are all worth checking out (git it?) so why don’t you?

The Fart Party
Not a webcomic, per se, because a good portion of the author’s material is released in book form, instead. Still, the very first comic (from 2006, I think) was like a peek into my head and I was instantly hooked. The archives are not to be missed.

My Milk Glass Heart
Most of the bloggers I am obsessed with don’t post nearly often enough to keep me happy, and Lara is no exception. But I love her eye for beauty and her honesty. Plus, she turned me on to The Fart Party so I know she’s got a killer sense of humor. Also find her here.

Motherhood in NYC
Marinka is a mom. And Russian. And lives in the Greatest City In The World. She writes about all of these things, brilliantly. NSFW if your boss is uptight because, seriously, she will have you laughing out loud. Also find her here and here.

Double Vision
Another blog I wish were more frequently updated, but I enjoy everything she does write. Snarkfilled honesty is the name of the game with Kristin and I suspect if we ever met we would form a superstrong evil alliance, the likes of which have not been seen since the Legion of Doom. Or Donnie and Marie.

The Bloggess
Yeah, yeah, I know, you are like “TCG, everybody on earth is already reading The Bloggess”. Well, guess what, jokes on you. I’ll bet newborn babies in China aren’t reading The Bloggess. I’ll bet people on the Avatar planet aren’t reading The Bloggess. I’ll bet Republicans aren’t reading The Bloggess. So, shut up. And read her. She’s the best friend I never had and it’s on my bucket list to drink Diet Dr. Pepper and watch a sunrise with her. Or purchase a lock of her hair on ebay and sleep with it under my pillow.

Passive Aggressive Notes
My whole life on one site. And the inspiration behind the little “reminders” I have been leaving for people, lately. SO much healthier than the quiet seething I am prone to. Healthier for me, I mean.

Bad Stock Art
The pissy me with a bad attitude and enlarged pores is all shitty about the fact that she didn’t come up with this site. The completely fake real, pleasant me is so glad these two did. The pictures are funny, the commentary is funnier. Pantspeeingly good, especially if you have a tricky bladder like mine. Also find them here and here.

* Workin’: As luck would have it, this blog has lead me to a few paid writing gigs. It’s a hundred kinds of awesome that anyone would pay me to say this stupid crap and I often think I will wake up and find I am in the same shitty job, living in the same shitty apartment, hiding from the same shitty bill collectors. Damn. Still, they are pretty sweet gigs and I’m not gonna look that gift Julia Roberts in the mouth. Plus, I’ve got plans for further world domination. Look for more TCG in 2010, and please accept my apologies in advance.