Tuna Tar-Tart

I suck at everything. Probably more than you do. I enjoy experimenting with cheese and playing with glue sticks. You might know me from that other joint, LiveJournal.

Nov 242017

Hey boy hey I’m back with more Mattress Factory photos. Everything you see here will be from the main Mattress Factory building.

I was so entranced by the funhouse-mirror effect that the weird foil stuff on the walls had that I never actually bothered to read anything about this exhibit. I don’t even know what it was called, but maybe I should move my dying plants there because the set-up seems way better than what I have at home.

(Also Janna is going to kill me for posting this picture because that is obviously not what she looks like at all.)

Plant room selfie.

The next room was an Allan Wexler experience in levels and architecture. It was not my favorite but Chooch was really drawn to it, probably because it appealed to his nerdy, analytical mind.

I did, however, enjoy the intravenous coffee table.

Here’s a random picture from the fire escape:

If you don’t take gratuitous selfies in the permanent Yayoi Kusama room, then have you really Mattress Factory’d? This is always the crowd pleaser whenever I bring new people to this joint, and it’s not surprising that this is the only thing that Chooch remembers from his past visits.

I read recently that Russell Wilson shut down the Seattle Art Museum to take Ciara to see the Kusama retrospective for their anniversary. LUCKY.

There’s a permanent Greer Lankton exhibit on one of the floors, but it was recently expanded to include a temporary display of old works that her family lent to the museum, and we were shook. I already liked her a lot, but these drawings and paintings give a deeper look into her life.

Funny enough, we entered this room in reverse order and apparently missed the sign that warned of sexually explicit content, so I had no idea what we were getting into until Chooch wandered off, then came back and said, “UM PLEASE COME HERE” and pointed out a super porn-y drawing which made me crack up. I sent a picture to Henry who was like GOOD JOB ERIN but really he was like NICE THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE ART.

Honestly though, most of it was really sad, emotionally disturbing, and worked as raw and visceral diary excerpts.

None of these are the one that disturbed Chooch, but on the way out, he pointed out another one called, “Cunt on a Stick” and mumbled, “Nice. Real nice.”

And then on the way home, it was all “THAT GREER LANKTON ROOM WAS PRETTY GOOD, DON’T YOU THINK?”

This is the permanent Lankton exhibit, called, “It’s All About Me, Not you.” I highly recommend exploring her work. She was fucking fascinating.

“What, hold on…” Chooch said, before tossing a brooding stare over his shoulder. “OK, now take my picture.” The Mattress Factory triggered his inner model, you guys. He was like this the whole afternoon and it was starting to creep me out a little.

These remind me of serial killer prison art and I would gladly hang them all in my bedroom.

Chooch got a B in stupid art this semester because when he leaves the school to go to the Gifted Center, he misses art class sometimes and therefore is unable to finish projects and I think this is fucking bullshit because:

  • it sometimes feels like the regular school punishes the gifted students in stupid ways like this;
  • art shouldn’t be graded

I feel like having experiences like we had last Saturday afternoon at the Mattress Factory is worth more than whatever bullshit busy work an elementary school art teacher is doling out. (Not knocking art teachers at all but the one at his school has been a pain in the ass since the beginning.) I suggested he write a review of his day looking at real art and turn it in to her, but then I’m afraid he’s just going to be like, “I SAW LOTS OF DICKS DRAWN WITH CRAYONS AT THE MATTRESS FACTORY.”

Nov 232017

For my obligatory Thanksgiving bullshit post this year, I am obviously going to say that I’m thankful for Kpop, le duh. This morning, I was talking to Henry about it, how much better the concert experiences have been than the ones I’m used to, how all of the fans are so nice, how it feels like I finally belong somewhere, and I started crying so hard, haha. Henry patted my leg and said, “OK, take it easy.” I mean, all of this is in addition to the fact that I have literally lost 25 pounds just by dancing to Kpop and eating kimchi every day. Whoever would have thought. My life has always been driven by music, since I was a little kid, but I think it’s safe to say that this is the most fun, healthy, and healing it’s ever been for me.

More specifically, on this Thanksgiving Day 2017, I am giving thanks for the beautiful Lee Taemin, aka BIAS WRECKER. He released his second solo album last month and it has been giving me life these last few weeks, especially while I have been sick (physically and mentally — it’s been rough in my head since Halloween). There have been times when I’m getting ready for work in the morning and take a break to sit in the bed and cry to one of his songs – I don’t typically like the slower/ballad-y kpop songs but his are pure art and make me feel like I’m being wrapped up like kimbap, which I’ve needed these last few weeks because sometimes, even when I’m in a roomful of people, I still feel alone. It’s been nice to have something to latch on to.

And no, I don’t need him to sing this in English; it brings tears to my eyes just the way it is. Not as much as this one does though:

This is not hyperbolic: I started thinking, just thinking about this song at work the other day and had to lowkey slip into the bathroom because I couldn’t stop crying. I’m wrecked.

161010 Weekly Idol updates #Shinee #Taemin

Things I love about Taemin: the way he pronounces “j”/”ch” sounds (Henry thinks this is absurd and says he can’t hear it, no matter how many times I play “Press Your Number”), his intricate & subtle 1980s jazz dance moves (he’s one of the best dancers in Kpop PLEASE WATCH THAT VIDEO UP THERE; I watch it 87 times a day), his mature silken voice, obviously his perfect fucking face good lord help.


Chris and Monica stopped by last Monday and they can attest that the only thing that played on the TV during the hour they were here was Taemin. At one point, Monica commented on his shoes and I was like, “Oh, I never noticed. I literally only ever look at his face….”

Henry doesn’t like Taemin because he feels threatened by his beauty but don’t worry – Chooch said he will go see him with me if he ever does a North American tour so I guess I better start saving up!

(I just told Chooch that today I’m thankful for Taemin and he rolled his eyes so hard and walked away. So maybe I’ll be going to see him alone after all. VIP FOR ME THEN.)

Um, I guess I’m also thankful for Henry and Chooch, too (for not implementing any sort of kpop ban in the house and for Henry having the best Erin Needs Tampons intuition.)

Nov 222017

For the first time in years, I watched a music awards show. I had to sit through nearly three hours of blandness waiting for the one freaking thing that I wanted to see (isn’t that always the case). But it was worth even enduring that atrocious Christina Aguilera “Bodyguard” soundtrack medley (sorry, never been a fan).

Before I get to the good part, here are some more thoughts:

  • I did really enjoy Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez (I just really love her), and the Zedd/Alessia Cara performances, so there’s that.
  • I don’t think Tracy Ellis Ross (or whatever the fuck her name is) is funny or a big enough personality to carry a whole awards show. And I don’t care if she’s Diana Ross’s daughter. JUST MY OPINION.
  • Fuck Florida Georgia Line and I don’t even know who the broad was who was singing with them.
  • I don’t dislike Pink but maybe if her music was more interesting she wouldn’t have to hang off the side of a hotel.
  • I liked Gaga better during her bloody Paparazzi phase, but I do like that single she performed even though it honestly sounds like it could be have been sung by any other current girl pop singer out there right now. (Her performance that year at the VMAs is still my all time favorite awards show performance of any band/singer.)
  • Kelly Clarkson seriously seems like the nicest person in the whole industry and she makes me smile even if her music isn’t really my thing.
  • I cried when Linkin Park won even though I haven’t been a fan since like 1999.
  • If someone would have told me 12 years ago that one day Portugal the Man would be performing at the AMAs I would have laughed. (Also sorry to sound like a fucking hipster but their old shit was better.)
  • Shawn Mendes is talented. I support him.
  • I was excited to see Diana Ross! I opened up to Henry and Chooch about how when I was young in the 80s, I thought “Missing You” was the saddest song ever written because that one part where she sings, “I’m missing you / Tell me why the road turns” always made me think that literally the road turned while her boyfriend or whoever the song is about was driving, and he kept going straight and crashed and died. Henry and Chooch unanimously agreed that I’m dumb, so they can both fuck right off. IT WAS HARD TO SHARE THIS STORY

OK on to the most important part…

Unless you have been living under a rock, you probably heard that, omg, a KOREAN BOY BAND performed at the American Music Awards last weekend. I was so stoked for this. BTS isn’t my bias group but I do like them a whole lot, especially since this last record of theirs came out. Even then I said that it blew American pop music out of the water and now look—America is catching on. I’m going to try hard to not come off as a pretentious music snob cuntface over here, but I’m like thoroughly smug and validated right now. I WILL TRY TO TONE IT DOWN because I know how annoying I can be. #selfawareness

I was a nervous wreck all day on Sunday, like I was waiting to watch my actual seven sons perform at the school talent show or something. I was driving Henry nuts (duh) but even he was anticipating this event. We went to Blake’s that evening for birthday cake (he’s 25 now!) and the whole time I was like OK BUT WE NEED TO BE HOME BY 8. WE’RE GOING TO BE HOME BY 8 RIGHT and I don’t  know what the big deal is because we honest-to-god live 4 minutes BY FOOT from Blake and Haley’s apartment so I wasn’t ever going to be stranded there, AMAs-less or anything.

Sometime around 10:30, the Chainsmokers walked on stage and I knew it was finally happening. It made sense that the Chainsmokers would announce them because they collab’d on a song on BTS’s recent record.

I’m honestly crying all over again as I type this but those boys fucking slayed that stage. And the fan chants made us so happy – the Armys were representing so hard out there that night! I read that the AMAs had to actually mute the crowd because it was so hard to hear the music hahahaha. Chooch was like, “Everyone there experiencing this for the first time now knows what my ears felt like at KCON!” Honestly – I have been to a lot of concerts in my lifetime, but I have never heard screaming as loud as I have at kpop concerts. It’s a whole new level of fan-girl.

I stood right next to the TV with my hands over my heart through their whole performance. I have seen them perform DNA on sooooo many Korean music shows but man…seeing them at the AMAs, giving all the Western music world a run for its money? Fuck yeah boys, get it.

Several of my friends even admitted to me that they watched it and now they see why I like Kpop so much. I mean, I honestly just really like how the language sounds, to the point where I wonder if I wouldn’t like it if any of the groups recorded English versions of their songs. For example, I tend to not like the Japanese versions they record at all. And don’t even get me started on how much I love their dancing. I also think it’s not understood how hard these people work! And BTS especially — they’re not as prefabricated as you think. They write most of their own songs and J-Hope does a lot of the choreography for them. They are artists in every sense of the word and it does irritate me when people here scoff at Kpop like it’s inferior to…what? All the Meghan Trainors and Taylor Swifts whining on our radios? Just because Kpop is in a different language doesn’t mean it’s “weird” or “a joke” or “creepy.” And hey American interviewers – STOP ASKING THEM IF THEY’RE GOING TO RECORD AN ALBUM IN ENGLISH. Isn’t it enough that there’s an English remix of “Mic Drop”? :(

From the reaction that BTS’s performance got Sunday night, it seems like maybe our country is becoming more open to the idea of Korean pop music. Believe me, there are millions of us here who already know how wonderful it is! I know this because the last time BTS toured the US, tickets sold out in minutes, so um…hopefully they’ll add more cities next time?

My favorite part was the next morning, my boss called over to me, “So have you stopped smiling yet?” I didn’t know what she meant by that, and she followed up with, “They really brought down the house last night!”

“Oh my god, you watched??” I asked, and she said, “Yes! You’re the reason I knew who they were!”

Glenn was all, “What. What’s going on?” And I smugly said, “OH NOTHING JUST ONE OF THE KPOP GROUPS I LIKE MADE HISTORY LAST NIGHT AT THE AMAS NO BIG DEAL” and he was so annoyed because he wants Kpop to be a joke forever and ever amen.

I’m so proud of these boys. I felt like I was watching  my seven kids matriculate! Way to represent South Korea, BTS.

Nov 212017

After being sick for-fucking-ever, I desperately needed to get out and do something fun, and since it’s been nearly two years since I’ve gone to the Mattress Factory, an outing there just seemed right and not full of exertion (i.e. I wasn’t yet ready to participate in a tire-throwing competition or anything like that).

Plus, it’s been at least 6 years since I last took Chooch there, so long that the kid has zero memory of ever being there, and he was really stoked about this. I have been grooming that kid to love museums since he was in the womb, y’all.

Womb is such a gross word.

Anyway, we got Janna to go with us too because Janna is my OG Mattress Factory accomplice. We’ve been going semi-sporadically since I learned in 2005 that we could use our Pitt IDs to get in for a discount. (I was determined to milk that fucking ID for all that it was worth – tens of thousands of dollars, it turned out.) The last time I went to the MF, Janna couldn’t go because she was LITERALLY BUYING A MATTRESS THAT AFTERNOON. Oh god, what are the odds.

I have written about this place a shitload of times on this blog, so if you’re ever interested in seeing pictures of past installations, there’s a search  bar around here somewhere, I think. Otherwise, I will just quickly tell you that it’s a gem on the north side of Pittsburgh, my favorite museum in the city, a hands-on experience, quirky, fun, unique, blah yadda etc. If you live in Pittsburgh and haven’t gone there, you’re dumb (I’m kidding, please don’t stop reading this, I’m desperate for readers!). And if you’re planning on visiting Pittsburgh sometime ever, you should definitely check this place out because it’s cool, yo. It’s cool.

It was actually moderately crowded on this particular day, which is not usually the case. So we were kind of annoyed when we started the day off in one of the annex buildings and could barely enjoy it because a million college kids were pushing their way through the cramped spaces and setting off emergency exit alarms (“It wasn’t us!” I said to the docent who pushed past us to turn it off. “It was those college kids, wasn’t it!” she cried and we were like YES MA’AM!!! Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure she was a college kid, too.)

The installation in this building was the same for years and I was really growing tired of it, but now it’s this crazy three-floor exhibit by Dennis Maher called “A Second Home.” It was like walking through a dollhouse in a way and we were all infatuated. However, it was also kind of dangerous because there were steps where you didn’t expect them and lots of spots where you had to duck – Janna and Chooch both smacked their faces off the same spot and I laughed.

There was this young couple behind us who fucking rushed us through the entire first floor because they were practically walking on our backs. That in addition to the girl making disparaging art critiques almost ruined my day there. Almost. We lost them after a bit, luckily, and our experience was greatly improved from then on.

Chooch was really into it from the get-go. Age 11 has been pretty great. His attention span still kind of sucks, but places like the Mattress Factory are just stimulating enough to hold his interest. He wasn’t blowing past each painting like he used to do at the zoo when he was a kid. Our zoo visits were done at record speeds! It felt more like being at a gallery with my two friends and not just “my friend Janna and my kid Chooch.”

I don’t know what I’m trying to say here, except that my kid is growing up to be such a cool person and I really enjoy spending time with him, especially when Henry isn’t with us because that’s when we get along the best.

Also, Henry thinks art is dummm so he didn’t want to go with us anyway.

Dennis Maher – A Second Home. Haunting!

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On the way to the second annex, Chooch literally chased down a lady so that he could pet her dog. Ladies and gentlemen, my son the serial petter.

OK, I honestly cannot constructively describe how the first floor of the second annex made me feel, except that I was ready to pack a bag and move in because it fit my aesthetic to a motherfucking T, you guys. To the point where I was frantically trying to figure out which room in my house to completely gut and invite Vanessa German over to construct “sometimes.we.cannot.be.with.our.bodies.part.2.” Sorry Chooch, you can sleep on the couch, mommy needs your room for bigger and better things.

This was around the time Chooch started to get super pose-y and I had no complaints about that.


I just wanted to lay down in the middle of all this gaudiness – DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME.

Liberace probably would have ejaculated immediately upon entrance of this room.

We spent a lot of time in this room, taking it in from every angle. There were so many details to see! I need to go back. I miss it.

Eventually we moved on to the second floor.

This was David Pohl’s “furniture music” which we also fell in love with. The mauve walls made me feel so peaceful and it’s a good thing 97% of my current plant collection is now dead because I’m going to tape them all over the walls. The Mattress Factory is always giving me the best interior design tips.

This is probably why Henry hates it so much.

“Take a picture of me sitting on this chair.”

The look on Janna’s face when he said this was priceless. It was totally saying, “Look at the monster you created.”


I’ll be back later this week with pictures from the main part of the Mattress Factory, where a chunk of Chooch’s innocence swan-dove out the window thanks to some, um, mature art.

Nov 192017

Sometime in September, Chooch came home with an order form for some dumb Southern Living cookie dough that the school was pushing the kids to peddle, and I was like, “LOL you can just throw that in the trash because I’m not taking it to work!” Honestly, I hate fundraising bullshit, and I especially hate asking co-workers to buy things when most of them have their own children who are selling magazines and hoagies and slingshots and fidget spinners, I dunno what kids sell these days.

Flash-forward a week or two later. Chooch said he was going over his friend Wesley’s house and we were like, “Look both ways before you cross the street, don’t take candy from strangers, don’t talk to my Mexican taco cart boyfriend without me.”

He came home a few hours later and it turns out, that sonuva took the order form with him and actually made like 8 sales to random people in Brookline!? Of course, his Corgi buddy Bob bought two containers of dough, but I didn’t recognize a single other name on that form! “Oh, that’s the lady who lives next to Bob, she has a dog too. And that’s her mom, who lives across the street. Oh, and that’s Ed’s* girlfriend” because Chooch gets around, man. He fucking gets around.

*(Ed is the guy who owns the gaming place on Brookline Boulevard, and Chooch of course has befriended him because most of Chooch’s friends are adults so why not add another.)

Meanwhile, the order form is all ATTENTION PARENTS, PLEASE SUPERVISE YOUR CHILDREN. DO  NOT LET THEM GO DOOR-TO-DOOR, because the world sucks these days. If this was the 80s, cold-calling would be encouraged! HERE’S THE MILKMAN, SON, ASK HIM IF HE WANTS TO BUY SOME FUNDRAISER FRUITCAKE! He’d have come home with 348 sales!

Unfortunately, Chooch collected checks from two of the houses, and the separate instruction sheet that was sent home from the school says that no checks are accepted, even though the order form states otherwise. So while one of the checks was made out to Chooch’s school, the other one was made out to “Central Middle School” and we were like, “Wtf is this school?” and it turns out it was what the sample check on the order form had written on it, for fuck’s sake. So Henry had to take Chooch back to these two houses to exchange their checks for cash, which is how we realized that one of the lady’s lives in the house behind us, the same house with the garage window that Chooch busted a few yeas ago which turned into a summer-long odyssey of the husband repeatedly showing up at our door to remind Henry that he still had not replaced the window, because Henry is the king of procrastination, which is one of the things that his mom and I argued about last spring when she blamed me for him not doing all the things he promised her he would do and I was like DO YOU THINK HE DOES EVERYTHING I WANT HIM TO DO THE FIRST TIME I ASK HIM TO DO IT, LADY?! My god, guys like Henry are the reason why women have to nag in the first place.


Anyway, the point of this story is that as soon as I saw that he made some sales on his own, I suddenly morphed into Captain Competition and decided that I would take the order form to work and try to outsell him. Normally, people will bring this shit in and leave it on the table by the kitchen and let it sell itself. Not me. I kept the order form right where I could see it, on the counter behind Lauren, and flat-out accosted everyone who walked past with this super-aggressive opening line, “BUY SOME COOKIE DOUGH.” You’d be surprised how many times it worked! I even got Todd to buy a gluten-free tub, and Mitch too who almost definitely has never baked cookies in his whole entire life, good thing he has a wife now.

You guys, I became consumed by selling. I even told people that I would accept Paypal, so I was able to strong-arm Chris and Monica as well, by sending them pictures of their options. This went on for a week until it was time to return the order form to school, which is when we discovered that whoever NANCY is didn’t pay Chooch. “She said that she will pay when the cookie dough is delivered,” Chooch shrugged. “This ain’t no C.O.D!” Henry barked, prepared to scratch her name off the list, but Chooch was all, “WE CAN’T DO THAT! SHE’S SARAH’S MOTHER!” and we were like WHO THE EFF IS SARAH and apparently she is the lady who lives across the street from Nancy and also ordered a tub. Chooch was so certain that Nancy was good for her word, that he SPOTTED HER THE MONEY.

I am so glad there were no cameras on us the evening before the order form was due, because it was like we were all using math for the first time in our lives. It took all three of us to count the money and add the sales, twice, before we finally arrived at the same number. It was beyond stressful.

I know what you’re wondering: “But Erin, did you sell more than your son?” PFFT FUCK YEAH, YOUR GIRL DID. Chooch sold enough to get some janky prizes worth about $7 but more importantly, since he sold more than 20 tubs, he got to go to Pizza Hut in a limo, so even though he didn’t reach his lofty goal of 125 tubs which would have scored him a Playstation or whatever, he was very pleased.

And then I remembered that I was going to have to bring all this shit to work and distribute it, and I immediately regretted the choices I had made.

Nov 182017

Are you like me and sick and tired of being let-down and heart-broken by bands full of misogynist, woman-beating, statutory rapist douchebags? I mean, are there any good American bands left in the scene that we can still love and support without a guilty conscious? Probably, sure, but who knows who they are right now. For now, can I suggest some new music for you to enjoy without feeling like a hypocrite?

Great! Here are some of my current favorite songs. Pretend like we’re having a dance party at my house! Daebak!

  1. Red Velvet – Peekaboo: They were one of the first girl groups I really loved when I got into kpop, and their new song has been stuck in my head all day. I don’t really understand the video, but it’s very aesthetically pleasing to me (all of their videos are!).

2.  Super Junior – Black Suit: I don’t understand this video either, but this song is such a bop. I’m just a casual fan at best, but this new song and their recent appearance on Weekly Idol has made me grow more interested in them, for sure. (Henry’s bias is Shindog.)

3. EXID – DDD: One of the first kpopX routines I did was to EXID’s “Up and Down” so they have a special OG place in my heart. When Hani’s smile fades at the 1:37 minute mark I am just like QUEEN. Ugh, this song is great. Long live EXID.

4. Astro – Crazy Sexy Cool: I never really cared much for Astro until this song came out. I think the video is so fucking adorable, and such a refreshing change from the Warped Tour / post-hardcore scene. Give me these pretty Korean boys any day.

5. Taemin – Move: I have to include a Taemin pick her because Henry seriously doesn’t like him for some strange reason and it breaks my heart, but I mean, he came around with BTS so maybe there’s hope for Taemin too?

So there you go. Five recent singles from South Korea that you can enjoy without wondering if any of them would harm your underage daughters.

Happy Saturday, chingu!

Nov 172017

Hello. It’s Friday and I am better but still not 100% which is entirely all my fault because I have admittedly still been exercising every single day since I’ve been sick. I KNOW, I’M A DUMMY, Henry tells me this constantly. But I have a sickness (I mean, in addition to my current respiratory sickness). I got to work from home today at least because it’s Light Up Night in Pittsburgh which means downtown is an absolute clusterfuck of people who never come into the city and act like it’s their first time walking down a sidewalk and one time there was a shooting, so….Speaking of, here are some bullet points!

  • My little baby! My honey bunny! My lamby wamby! (Ok I’ll stop but props if you know that movie. No one did on Instagram.) But you guys, look at my pretty son. I wish I was even a third as photogenic as him. I’m also amazed that his hair stayed up until the picture was taken because bro is notorious for smashing it down as soon as he’s out of my eyesight.
    • Funny story about these pictures is that they went missing immediately after Chooch brought them home and I was like, “Did you look under the couch?” and Henry said “YES OF COURSE I DID THAT WAS THE FIRST PLACE I LOOKED YOU DUMBASS” and then accused me of “probably” “accidentally” throwing them away with the circulars because he’s forever-bitter that I throw that shit away before he can look at it but hello, I hate that he just leaves them scattered all over the dining room table for like months on end, like hello, those sales are OVER now, boyfriend. So Henry put gloves on and tore through all the garbage bags because I’m sick, remember (no seriously even if I was well, I wouldn’t do that). No pictures in the trash. So then a few days later, I was like, “LOOK UNDER THE COUCH AGAIN, I DON’T BELIEVE YOU” and so he lifted the couch while I was laying on the floor and sure enough there they were. SERVES YOU RIGHT, HENRY.
      • I mean, I guess he had a valid point about the garbage though because I’ve accidentally thrown out two wallets.
    • Also re: my pretty son, he talks about college pretty much every time we take our nightly walk (my favorite pasttime right now, btw) and tonight he casually mused, “What job should I have while I’m in college? Uber driver, probably.”
      • Speaking of our nightly walks, on our walk two nights ago, a Corgi puppy bit him and he was crying, not because it hurt but because it was “a dream come true.” (Full disclosure, the owner warned him that puppy was teething and nippy, but he didn’t care, and it wasn’t like A Scene or anything.)
    • In other Chooch is crying news, he got kicked out of the library the other day and this is the second time a librarian made him cry and I shouldn’t laugh because it’s not funny…..but, is it tho?

  • I have been subsisting on Korean soups and porridge all week, thank god for Henry. He made a wonderful 호박 죽 (pumpkin porridge) over the weekend and I wanted to just bathe in it.
  • BTS has been in the US all week, doing various late night show appearances leading up to their performance at the AMAs on Sunday, and I have been so excited! They did a mini-concert on Jimmy Kimmel (it’s supposed to air on the 29th) but this video was on Youtube and I was dying because I could totally see this happening to Henry and I would BE SPITTING MAD.

  • Chooch and I were watching some girl’s vlog where she was in the Hongdae district of Seoul, and she said, “People come here with no fashion, and leave with style” and we started choking to death on our laughter, imagining Henry leaving with any sort of style. “Maybe at most he’d leave with an expensive plain gray t-shirt,” I said, and then we started hiccuping through the laughs.

  • Um…help yourself.

  • Penelope loves Taemin so much that she lays near the TV to be close to him. 
  • My flowers have finally died at work and are so much more style now. When I took this picture, I couldn’t stop laughing because it looks like that fake finger is a big dick, so I posted it on Instagram and my work-friend Colleen said her little boy was scrolling through her feed and was all MOMMY WHAT IS THAT and as such, an interesting conversation was had.
    • Speaking of flowers, I forgot about the whole season change thing and now 80% of my plants are dead. My kid is still alive though, in spite of his staunch refusal to wear a fucking coat.
  • Jonny Craig’s pathetic bullshit band got dropped from their record label today because the industry IS FINALLY STARTING TO HEAR WHAT HIS EX-GIRLFRIENDS ARE SAYING ABOUT HIS GROSS DOMESTIC ABUSE AND LITERAL RAPE AT KNIFE POINT. Fuck this piece of garbage, fuck him so much, and fuck all of his blind minion fans who are constantly defending him and victim-blaming and saying that his exes just want their fifteen minutes of fame, and if that were the case, maybe they’d be out dating an actual fucking celebrity then and not some lowlife hasbeen. Perhaps I will write something more about this later but I am just too angry right now. More needs to happen. He needs actual legal consequences.
    • Also? Quit saying shit like, “That was years ago, get over it” because let me tell you motherfuckers something (not you guys, those other motherfuckers out there who hate women), I was in an abuse relationship when I was in high school, 20 years ago, and that SHIT STICKS WITH YOU. I still have occasional dreams of him coming after me, telling me he’s going to poke out my eyeballs and jam them up my vagina (an actual threat he gave me as we fought in the middle of the street I lived on and I was crying so hard and begging him not be mad at me BECAUSE HE HAD ME PSYCHOLOGICALLY TRAINED TO THINK EVERYTHING WAS MY FAULT OMG I CANNOT WRITE ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW I JUST CAN’T. I AM SO FUCKING MAD.
  • Phew! That took a turn, didn’t it? Here’s something light: I had animal crackers and hot chocolate for lunch two days in a row this week because I’m living my best life (of a 4-year-old).

Well, on that note. I’m going to go and….probably exercise even though I still can’t stop coughing because THIS IS WHO I AM.


Nov 152017

Oh hey hi hello. Here I am, coughing a bit less but still talking like Kathleen Turner. Let’s look at some things I’ve been super into lately:

1. Like a sheet mask for your neck & chest:

2. Nose veils. Looks great paired with a turtleneck and leggings.

3. Swiss candies.

4. Taemin’s sweet, sweet dance moves in this live Press Your Number video:



So, what are you into lately? Hopefully not a basketful of respiratory infection like meeeeeeeeee.

Nov 142017

Oh hey guys, what’s up. I’m just over here slowly perishing from whatever gnarly chest cold bullshit I have. I thought I was getting better over weekend BUT NO now it’s manifested itself inside me as the cough of a 70-year-old chainsmoking secretary from the 1950s.

Yesterday was the most miserable day yet. I woke up from a night of next to no rest and tried using mind-control to convince my body that I was OK, ready for the day, we got this. But everything was working against me, from the moment I walked out of the door. As soon as the front door clicked shut, I realized I left my wallet on the couch, my wallet that has all of my credit cards, my Connect Card for the trolley, my work ID—that one I could have managed without, but without my ConnectCard or the ability to get cash, I had no way to get to work.

You’re probably like, “OK so just use your housekey and get your wallet, how is this even newsworthy, yawn” but what you should know is that I NEVER HAVE A HOUSEKEY and I will tell you why: I let my dummy son borrow mine after he lost his copy and then HE LOST MY KEY WHICH WAS THE MASTER KEY TO THE HOUSE AND THE ONLY ONE THAT WORKED RIGHT!!! Henry finally one day was like, “Enough is enough” and made me a copy using his key, which is the worst-cut key ever and I have never been able to use it in all the years he’s had it. So you know the copy he made me was even worse!

I have hurled that key across the room countless times, the last time was last year when I couldn’t open the door with it and had to get Chooch’s nemesis Larry to help me and even Larry was like THIS IS NOT A KEY, THIS IS THE DEVIL’S PUZZLE! As “luck” would have it, that fucking key had somehow made its way back into my jacket pocket, the same jacket I was wearing that miserable Monday morning, so I sighed, clenched it tight in my hand, and mumbled some quick JUST STAY CALM mantra before plunging that motherfucker into the lock.

OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK so I called Henry and was like, “You listen to me, motherfucker. I am about to have a heart attack on this porch. Everything is going wrong AND THIS KEY IS A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!!” He was saying something about staying calm, he’d to come get me, don’t let the neighbors see my true colors, blah blah blah but I had already hung up because I was determined to conquer this bitch-ass housekey. Between my Hulkian twisting, simultaneous kicks to the door, and guttural screams to the Hell below, I eventually managed to wrench the door open, grab my FUCKING PUSHEEN WALLET, and punish the sidewalk with my maniacal stomps. When I arrived at the trolley stop 10 minutes later, the trolley was just pulling up and it was more crowded that I have even seen it. The able-bodied MAN in front of me grabbed the only open seat and I know this is the age of GENDER EQUALITY but I so badly wanted to play the chauvinism card in that moment because I sick, for god’s sake, couldn’t he SEE THAT?

So I had to stand, which on a normal day I would not have minded, but literally as soon as that trolley door slid shut, it was like a vault being sealed and I became acutely aware of the tickle in my throat.

Oh god, I needed to cough, and I needed to cough BAD.

First, I tried mind over matter. I tried to picture myself healthy and I don’t know, walking in a garden or something, BUT OH GOD THOSE FLOWERS! THAT POLLEN! COUGH COUGH COUGH!!!

So then I thought, well, let’s picture myself already off the trolley, coughing freely.

Yeah, that didn’t work.

I let myself cough into my arm once, hoping that would quell it. But it just made it worse, because now there were 87 more coughs queued up, getting all unruly in my throat, trying to line-jump.

I needed a new cough drop, but since I was holding on to the bar with one hand, I had only one hand left to rummage through my huge bag and I wouldn’t find it, I couldn’t find the cough drops, why god why. OH GOD I NEEDED TO COUGH AGAIN. NOW MY NOSE WAS STARTING TO RUN. EVERYONE IS STARING AT ME AREN’T THEY?!

I kept swallowing back the urge to cough until my body was racked with shudders and twitches, I was lurching and my face was getting red, but DON’T YOU DO IT ERIN, DON’T YOU COUGH, NO ONE WANTS TO BE ON THE TROLLEY WITH A COUGHER.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks now. I wanted to murder the guy who took that last seat. He is forever on my list.

I finally screamed UNCLE and got off the trolley three stops early, at Station Square, and walked the remaining mile to work, where I was able to cough freely into the wind.

When I arrived, I looked at Glenn and in what sounded like a failed Kathleen Turner impression, I growled, “DON’T TALK TO ME TODAY.”

I left work at 2 because I was annoying everyone with my hacking and Glenn was like, “Amber, can Erin go home now, or….?” I would have left earlier than that, but I had to wait for Henry to be done with work because I refused to try my hand at that FUCKING HOUSEKEY AGAIN.

“You’re so pathetic,” Glenn sighed, after I alerted everyone that I would be there for another hour. YOU KNOW WHAT GLENN?! You’re right. I’m pathetic. Ugh, I hate being sick.

Came home and coughed my dumb fucking head off all goddamn night. I bet the neighbors love me.

Luckily, I already had today scheduled off work because I had to attend a parent-teacher conference at the gifted center, and then I had a dentist appointment (that’s a whole other odyssey that I don’t even want to talk about right now). I managed to get through the conference without coughing until the very end, but I had to cancel my dentist appointment because I am a hot fucking mess. My eyes are all bloodshot from coughing and I look like I’m strung out, not to mention the whole “can’t go 5 minutes without coughing” thing.

So today has been pretty terrible as far as days off go. I have just been laying on the couch watching Riverdale which is pretty great until it starts getting into parent stuff, and then it just gets confusing. I want less shady dealings and extortion, more Jughead. You feel me.

Also, is Archie like the most boring character or what? All of his friends are involved in all of these complicated plots and then Archie walks onto the scene and it’s like, “Guys, shhh! Archie is here to talk about the lame song he just wrote and that’s more important than the rest of us solving crimes and being multi-dimensional characters!”

Also #2, Luke Perry and Skeet Ulrich are in this? 1990s Delia’s-wearing Erin is fucking sprung.

I called Henry crying because it’s lunch time and I don’t know what to do about that so he suggested that I go to Parker’s and I was like NOT WITH THIS COUGH BITCH PLZ and then he said, “Maybe your Mexican taco cart boyfriend can make you a veggie taco” and I shrieked, “NO I CAN’T LET HIM SEE ME LIKE THIS!” to which Henry laughed and said, “OK bye.” Unless that’s code for “be right there to cook for you” he can just GTFO.

I don’t do “sick” very well.

This has been a “Sick on the couch” free-form blog post. Guess I’ll go eat a piece of bread.

Nov 122017

Last Saturday we (mum and I) went to a haunted house, which is actually an Asylum, called Deviant. The whole way there, it was a two hour drive, I played Stranger Things: The Game (Not Spons) on my tablet and I ended up getting pretty far. We got there and there was still half an hour for it to even open. We waited in line and I had to go to the bathroom, so I got out of line and went to the nearest port-o-potty and I checked inside. What I found shocked me because I cracked open the door a little bit and saw plastic covering the entrance. I rolled my eyes and ducked under the line and waited. Some other guy wanted to see why I hadn’t went in and why I walked back disappointedly, so he went and opened it. He opened it all the way and an air-horn went off and he flinched and flew backwards. Everyone laughed and I just stood there and shook my head while mumbling, “At least that wasn’t me!”

We finally entered with a group of four when the guy called for a group of two and we (again mum and I) went up. Daddy got out of line and everyone laughed at him because they thought he was scared, which he was. Instantly we went in and there wasn’t a ray of light; it was pitch-black.

It was petty at the beginning. Nothing really happened. Boy, did that change quickly! We got into this one room and it was THE LONGEST passage of blue lights and we were surprised that no one scared us. They are smart because it made us more scared expecting something to happen. Then, there was a guy with a knife who followed mum for a VERY long time and I didn’t understand why she was trying to get in front of me. After a few rooms there was one that was probably even more sinister than the blue light room; a long hallway with DOORS! The doors were slamming open and shut and there was only ONE jump-scare in the whole hall.

My favorite part in the whole attraction was the dubstep room where it was just flashing, colorful lights and dubstep music in the background. In the part there was a GIANT TEDDY-BEAR!!! I sang, danced, and said, “Hi,” to the bear. Then I quickly realized that there were clowns. I don’t mind clowns, but they ruined the aesthetic of the room. But then the room ended and I was very sad. Now we went through dark, displeasing rooms with spooky people.

The final room contained safety fences that formed a path. I instantly thought, “Oh no. Zombies,” but there were only two people: one was screaming someone’s name, the other just spooking people. It was a very dark and scary room and I thought we would die. I saw light! A very rare ray of light! I walked towards it and I saw nature–the exit! I breathed in the fresh air and my eyes widened–chainsaw! I ran ahead of mum and pushed her back, but when I went to push her I hit her really hard. I didn’t realize it until I escaped, but I felt bad, which mum wouldn’t believe.

The way back was very eventful because … I beat Stranger Things: The Game! Also please note that I just recently started to understand semicolons so I will be using them very often from now on.

Nov 112017

There’s nothing I love better than taking some cold meds and blogging! Let’s get bullet-y.

  • One day two weeks ago, back when I wasn’t sick, I had brunch at Shiloh Grill with Wendy, Summer, And Amber1! It was really nice to see Amber, but also a huge reminder of how different our little work group is without her. I’d also like to note that I was scared of the fruit salad because I thought it had bacon on top, but it turned out it was small slices of candied apples – it was amazing and totally worth the price of the buffet. (OK, maybe the frozen mimosa helped too.)
  • Henry picked me up from work the other day wearing this garish red Faygo hat, but at a glance it looked like a MAGA hat and I was so embarrassed! When we got home, I wouldn’t even cross the street with him. He thought it was great and will probably wear it all the time now that he knows it has built in Erin-deterrent.

  • Taking baby steps with Chooch in an effort to get him to like some, ANY Korean food. He almost likes bibimbap but he won’t mix the gochujang in it which is the best part, but whatever. I’m going to start putting little squirts of it on his tongue while he sleeps until he wakes up one day craving it. That’s normal parenting, right? I wouldn’t know, since I’m apparently a bad parent, according to some sources, lol.
  • Henry and I were fighting on Halloween so I deleted him as a contact since I have no social media left to block him on anymore, and even though we were only fighting for a day (and when I say we, I trust you know how to translate that), I was being stubborn and wouldn’t put him back in my phone. So even five days later, when I would want to send him a picture of something (specifically, a picture of our favorite* CVS employee in the wild), I would have to physically type in his number. So I did that, and then I kept on texting him about the things I was seeing on my walk around Brookline, like the old man who dances on the sidewalk with his portable speaker (on that day, he almost knocked me over in his zeal for Usher’s “Yeah” while wearing a Kenny Chesney shirt). Henry never responded and I was like whatever, he’s probably napping. But then later that night, we were all out together, and I was texting Henry from under the table at some diner, and he wasn’t responding so I was like WHY AREN’T YOU RESPONDING TO MY TEXTS and he was like “You haven’t texted me since yesterday, so….” I looked at my phone and realized that everything from that day had gone to a number that was one digit off from his. He thought this was fantastic and prayed that I would eventually get a response, but I looked up the number and it was a LANDLINE SO THERE.
    • By “favorite” I mean that we’re obsessed with his hit-or-miss attitude. He’s been there for years and one night, we were walking around talking about him and some of the other CVS people we haven’t seen in a while and that’s when you know you have lived in the same place for too long.

  • New shoes! I kept walking past Payless and seeing these cute pink Champions in the window. They were on sale and I would tell myself, “Just go in and buy them” but I am such a lazy shopper and will constantly put things off. Finally, I went in one day and couldn’t find them! I was so mad that I texted, “They don’t have them anymore, good job Henry!!!” because #blamehenry. He even looked on the website at home and said they didn’t even have them online anymore! I started looking in all sizes, just to see for sure, and right next to the smallest womens’ size, I saw them. A girl’s size 6. Wait – is this a womens size six? I asked myself. It looked large though so I tried it on and it was too big! I’m a 7.5 so that couldn’t have been a womens 6. Were these children’s shoes this whole time? I walked to the kids section and pulled down a box of 5s – they fit perfectly so I gave no fucks and bought them. That’s how I found out that I wear a size 5 in little girl shoes. I wore them to work and numerous people were like I LIKE YOUR NEW SHOES and I was like THANKS THEY’RE FOR KIDS! Now that I know I can fit into them, I’m going back to get something glittered.

  • Now that Barb and Gayle are gone from the department, this is what pie looks like after I cut it. :( Glenn said it looked like a crime scene. I had to use my hand at one point to get it all on the plate. I hate myself.
  • My mom texted me last night and asked, “Remember when you would put cinnamon in everything I was cooking?” and no I don’t but that really sounds like something I would do.

  • I had a bouquet of fake black roses on the mantel for years and suddenly Drew discovered them one day and was constantly jumping up there to gnaw on them. I finally just took them down because CATS RUIN EVERYTHING. They’re so fucking cute though. Ugh. The perils of cat-having.

  • Some donut place opened up in Washington, PA called Glazed & Confused. I saw one picture on Instagram and became obsessed with going, so we stopped there last Saturday on our way to the last haunted house of the season (Chooch should be posting his review this weekend once I come up with a price for him, ugh). Honestly, it wasn’t that great. Henry and I split one with just vanilla ice cream and fruity pebz, because if fruity pebz is a topping option I will take it every time. Honestly, the girl who waited on us was annoying and there just really wasn’t anything that original about this place. Turns out it’s probably a chain, too. I mean, it was good but I wouldn’t go running back anytime soon. (If I had to choose between this place and that bigot-run Peace, Love & LIttle Donuts, give me a one-way ticket to Washington.)

  • On the way home from the above-mentioned haunted house, which was in Weston, WV, we stopped at DJ’s Diner, also in West Virginia, and it was, well, it just was. For starters, Chooch and I both ordered a Gardenburger and the waitress was legit shook. “Y’all are the first ones to order that,” she said, bewildered. Meanwhile, some broad was slowly trying to eat her meal while holding a newborn a baby while her “hubby” (ugh hate that word but it seems very WV-ish) gave no fucks about her struggle. And then this family of WVU fans rolled in – two sisters (one was in elementary school, the other was probably 8th or 9th grade which I deduced by the Young Bitch air she had to her), the obese mom, and the 5-packs a day granny. The youngest girl was eating a candy bar she got from granny’s purse, and then granny went up to put some cash in the juke box, filling the diner with predictable country trash. Chooch, whose back was toward them, started bitching about this immediately. “OMG this music sucks! I bet these people voted for Trump!” and I was slowly sliding down in my seat because the older girl had me fixed in her glare, and then Chooch was like, “I NEED TO ASSESS TO THIS MUSIC SITCH” and strode up to the juke box like a man on a mission, with his Warped Tour shirt and City Boi vibes. Oh, those fish out of water feels, always makes the meal taste so much better.
    • The fries were crinkle-cut and at first I was dismayed because I hate crinkle cut, but they ended up being really good and somewhere in there is a heart-warming analogy for race relations or something.

  • My friend Katrina had a baby a few weeks ago and I was so excited for her that I had to paint something for her little sweet Ophelia. Ugh, I love that name!
  • I was so excited when I heard that BTS will be performing “DNA” at the American Music Awards until I stopped to consider that this RACIST AMERICA so I made the mistake of peeking at the comments, just on Twitter, which were full of Asian stereotypes and things like, “So now this is the Korean Awards?” nevermind the fact that the AMAs consistently has Canadian and British artists on it and I’m sure everyone would cheer if that Despacito dude strode out on stage, but OMG ASIANS GO HOME. It makes me sick and I feel so protective of these kpop artists.

  • Henry and Chooch came downtown last Friday during lunchtime so that we could finally apply for Chooch’s passport. He sat in the waiting area, reading Modern Farmer, as you do, and then afterward, when the clerk asked if we had any questions, Chooch raised his hand and asked, “So…are they always blue?” We were all like wtf are you talking about and it turns out he wanted to choose a custom color for his passport but it felt like Pee Wee asking to see the basement of the Alamo and I’m acutely aware of how many times I use that scene to describe moments in my life. But yeah. That was his main concern, which is so Chooch.
  • A lot of my friends have asked me, “Aren’t you guys afraid to travel to South Korea?!” and the answer is “I live in America, home of record-shattering mass shootings, so no” but depending on the day, the other answer is “sometimes.” NOT thinking that way at least for a second is just sheer ignorance. It’s a valid question, and a valid concern. We’re very aware of what’s going on, but instead of just relying on the hyper-sensationalized American media, I read a lot of the S.Korean news sources as well. It was kind of funny, not so much in a “ha ha” way, but I was at a lunch a few weeks ago and there was this lively conversation about all of the exotic locales some of our co-workers have been vacationing to recently, and as soon it was brought up that I’m going to South Korea, it got AWKWARD. Someone monotoned, “Oh. Wow” and another person dryly said, “If it’s still there” and then the conversation was officially killed and all you could hear was forks scraping across plates. It was awesome.
    • But really – what IS safe anymore??
    • Also, I do appreciate that my friends care, though. I know that they just don’t want me to be in any kind of peril and with our current “president,” you just don’t know. Saying that I’m not nervous sometimes would be a big lie.
  • I still feel shitty. I think I will just stay home and watch horror movies all weekend, FIGHT ME. (You’ll win though; I’m so weak and pathetic right now.0
  • Henry and I watched the recent Super Junior episode of Weekly Idol last night and were laughing so hard. What was my life before Korea?!
  • I want to have a casual Xmas party again this year but there are so many projects “we” have to finish around here and I’m panicking because nothing is happening. I need two or three more Henrys.

OK that’s all. I’m going to lay back down, how do I feel worse than I did yesterday this sucks!!!!

Nov 102017

I worked late shift today from home which was an unplanned blessing because I had a really restless night and woke up feeling worse than the day before. It was nice not having to drag myself into work in the morning.

Chooch didn’t have school today, which was the sole reason why I volunteered for the dreaded Friday late shift. Before I was sick, we planned on having breakfast at Parker’s and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. Once the DayQuil set in, I was about 50% alert so we walked out asses through the unseasonably blustery winds to Brookline Blvd and had a nice, chill breakfast. I sincerely love Parker’s – the vibe is something Brookline has been missing but didn’t know it.

Anyway. Chooch has to do this intense genre report in his Communications class and I suggested that he choose The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin because it was my favorite book as kid and it’s all about me,* so.

*(Seriously – Chooch had to write an All About Me essay and when it was time to write about his family, I made sure I got the largest paragraph. He read it out loud to me and when he got to the last sentence**, he punctuated it with a hefty eye roll.)

**(“She is very talented.” LOL.)

So Chooch brought his book with him to read and I was so excited about this. I actually did a book report on it as well but it was in 4th grade. Not saying I was more advanced than Chooch, but…

J/k there’s no competition here!

(My work friends are like yeah right tell them about the cookie dough, Erin. Um, maybe the next post.)

The Westing Game made a big impression on me. It’s one of the few plots I actually remember (my memory rules in a lot of way but books are not one) and I was so happy when he seemed open to my suggestion! He has only just begun to read it and is already intrigued. I keep telling him to stop googling (he wanted to know if there was a movie) because I would cry if it’s spoiled for him.

The main takeaway I had from this book is to swish with hot tea and bourbon to alleviate toothaches. I can’t tell you how many times I have utilized that remedy over the years. Ugh, it’s such good pain!

If anyone still reads this and feels like weighing in, what was your favorite book as a kid?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to do some shots….of NyQuil. Woo, Friday night.

Nov 092017

We were in the car over the weekend when I said, “My lymph nodes feel tender.”

Henry thought this was hilarious because he’s insensitive, but I was serious! I knew that sickness was on the horizon. 

Sorry that I’m a part-time doctor, Henry.

(Apparently, it was my use of the word ‘tender’ that was such a knee-slapper.)

Halfway through yesterday, it hit me and by the time I came home I was low-key dying. If you ask Henry though he will tell you that I was SO DRAMATIC and driving everyone crazy. You guys will never believe this, but I actually RESTED all last night (except for when I woke up on the couch at 10:30 and realized I was 200 steps away from my daily goal so I shambled around the house like ninny until my Fitbit was happy.)

Today was better but not much. I made it through work but I felt like my body was crawling with frozen ants and all my joints felt like hostels for arthritis. I wore my coat for the last two hours. Even though it feels like there is a bonfire in my ears, I supposedly don’t have a fever. I accused Henry of tampering with the thermometer 

Anyway, all I want to do is writhe around on the couch, moaning and watching Weekly Idol. So here are two pictures of my cats. 

Someday this blog will have content again. 


Nov 072017

On our nightly walk last night, Chooch’s butt was cold.

“It feels like I just had Botox,” he said, describing his cold ass. “Kind of. Maybe. Nevermind, I don’t know what Botox feels like.”

So we dipped into the laundromat in order for him to warm his butt up. (It’s not even winter yet!)

For some reason, I felt compelled to to go back to the laundromat again tonight and take pictures. And not just because I was looking for an excuse to walk past my taco cart boyfriend!

(Henry’s favorite time of the evening is when Chooch and I go on these walks, though I wonder if he ever gets nervous that we’re running amok in Brookline.)

So, here is a fake photoshoot at the laundromat with Chooch. This Tuesday night honestly had nothing else going on. (Except voting! Which I did. Get off my back.)

Henry rolled his eyes when we showed him this picture. #jealous

Right after I took this picture, some broad came in to get her clothes out of the dryer and gave us the “WTF are yinz doin'” look that we know all too well. So we dipped out of Suds after that. Thanks, yinzer lady.

I wonder how we look to outsiders.

Henry thought it was hilarious that we were at the laundromat since neither one of us ever helps him with laundry. Maybe we’ll go with him next time, check out his laundromat (we’ve never been there, since he switched without telling us, remember?!?!), and do another photoshoot.