Feb 272017


Sunday was another beautiful day! I was (mostly) in a good mood and Henry and Chooch were (mostly) cooperative with my whims.

The highlight was meeting up with Amber1 for lunch at First Watch. She got a new job recently so I was really happy to see her–we all miss her smiling face, boy band obsession, and conversations about pink salt at work. :(

This was a first time for both of us at First Watch and we both quickly decided we would go back again soon because the menu was full of healthy bullshit and we like that.

“I have to bring Brian here,” Amber said about her fiance. “I think he’ll love it!”

I was about to say something about bringing Henry, but I think he would hate it. They have avocado toast on the menu and Henry is confused by this trend. Personally, I loved the place! Amber and I both had amazing kale juice and I felt like a Californian…or someone in Lawrenceville. Amber got the aforementioned avocado toast and luckily didn’t make the same fatal mistake I once made by eating avocado toast without taking a picture of it first because if you eat avocado toast without taking a picture first DID YOU REALLY EVEN EAT  AVOCADO TOAST?

This same thing happened to me two weeks ago with Halo Top.

Meanwhile, I had major ordering remorse when I got some granola stuff which was delicious, but only would be good if you were a solo diner or with someone who does most of the talking because that shit does not make conversing easy. Every time I tried to say something, I think I flung some oats out of my dumb mouth. My jaw hurt from all the chewing! I eventually gave up and asked for a take out container, at which point I nearly missed the container altogether and came oh-so close to dumping that nutritious shit into my lap.

“My boyfriend usually does this for me,” I nervously laughed as the waitress stood there waiting for me to act like an adult and take care of shit so she could take my empty bowl away.

Speaking of the waitress though! She was really fantastic and even brought us samples of the juices to try. One had turmeric in it and our waitress went on to sing its praises. She had both of us convinced that we need to introduce turmeric pills into our daily routine, so of course I ran home and told Henry that I need turmeric pills.

“Koreans don’t use turmeric,” he said, and I totally believed him but now I’m wondering if he just said that because he doesn’t want to get involved with the turmeric industry.

Anyway, it was so great to see Amber1 and it made me realize that aside from various parties (and the Color Run!), we have never really hung out with each other outside of work. I hope that we make hanging out a habit! We have lots of BIGBANG things to discuss.

When I came home, Henry was standing on the steps, measuring the wall so that he could hang up my Circa Survive tour poster that he finally bought a frame for. He was on the second step from the top, and I was all the way at the top, telling him about all the wonderful food at First Watch that he would probably hate because grains n’ quinoa n’ at, when SUDDENLY he lost his footing and ALMOST FELL DOWN THE STEPS!

He caught himself just in time and then proceeded to fuck with the measuring tape like it was no big thang what just happened, so I did all the freaking out on his behalf. And by that I mean I screamed, “OH MY GOD, YOU ALMOST JUST RUINED OUR WEEKEND!”

And then down the steps, I yelled to Chooch, “DADDY ALMOST FELL DOWN THE STEPS AND RUINED OUR WEEKEND!”

“Ugh, I wish he would have,” Chooch sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have to do this stupid photoshoot.”

Oh yeah, about that.

A few weeks ago, I bought this black velvet blazer at Goodwill with the intention of dressing it up kpop style for Chooch. One night I was looking at it and I thought to myself, “What Would G-Dragon Do?” and since I’m not a billionaire fashionista who hangs with Karl Lagerfeld, I went to the craft store and bought fun-fur and googly eyes.

And then I told Henry what to do with the fun-fur and googly eyes. And after he hot-glued them up his ass, I had him put the rest on the blazer.

We went to Homewood Cemetery later that afternoon. It’s been a hot minute since we desecrated that place with our shitty presence! Long story short, the first fifteen minutes were VERY VOLATILE and I got busted throwing a major temper tantrum by a trio of college girls who were traipsing around with their cameras. I tried to play it off like I wasn’t about to go all Mo’ Murda on my family, but I JUST DON’T LIKE IT WHEN THINGS DON’T GO MY WAY!

And then I flung my hand in the air in exasperation and one of my rings flew off my finger and I couldn’t find it!

“What ring is it?” Henry asked calmly, prodding the grass with his hands.

“THE GOLD BAND,” I wailed.

“What does it look like?”

“It’s a GOLD BAND,” I repeated.

“But what does it look like?”


For fuck’s sake!!!

(It’s a ring I got in Greece and I wear it on my ring finger so that I can pretend I’m married.)

Thank god Henry found it. I’m wearing it on a fatter finger now so that won’t happen again.

(Meanwhile, Chooch just sat in the grass, taking this whole scene in and smirking because his parents are fucking idiots.)

ANYWAY, here are some pictures of Chooch in his new haute(glue) couture blazer, looking fucking fabulous and he knows it.


“I feel like this is something G-Dragon would do,” Chooch said, looking all aegyo. I AM BRAINWASHING MY FAMILY AND I LOVE IT.


Praying for it to end.


Hey guys, before you send the Cemetery Popo to my crib, please know that these flowers were discarded on the road. We didn’t steal them from someone’s grave – WE’RE ONLY DICKS ON SATURDAYS. After Chooch was done with them, he picked a lonely grave to lay them down on because he is a good, good boy (THAT’S A G-DRAGON SONG).


I showed this picture to Glenn and he was like, “Did you hot glue those to his eyelids too?” and then made some CYS joke and I was like, “OH HO HO CYS has already been to my house for photos I’ve taken in the cemetery.” (Truth. We can laugh about it now.)




Oh yeah, he hates this.


We had to use a lint roller on the blazer every 4 minutes because I didn’t buy designer fun-fur, OK? I bought the $2 pelts that shed like a cat with alopecia.


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After all the initial fighting, it turned out to be a great afternoon in the cem! One of the reasons I like to do these fauxtoshoots is because it gets us out of the house doing shit for free, and then we usually end up having a pretty good time. And I get to add to my collection of Embarrassing Photos of Chooch to Show His Future Dates.

If nothing else, this blog post taught me that it’s TURMERIC and not tumeric.  Who knew. Not me.

Feb 182017


Today was a perfect Saturday, mostly because we all got along (an amazing feat) and Chooch even let me take pictures of him without any push-and-pull or bribery! However, when I asked him what we should call this photo set, he said, “I don’t give a fuck” so there you go. IDGAF.


The other night, Chooch told me that I looked like Lady Gaga threw up on me. I’ll take that as a compliment.

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That eyebrow/scowl combo, you guys.


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Chooch got his hair cut last Friday by some guy with a handlebar moustache. It looks nothing like the picture of TOP we gave the barber for reference, but it’ll do. Henry bitched the whole time about the salon being such a hipster cesspool, but then pacified himself by perusing the barber’s own line of beard oil. Oh, Henry.



Afterward, we walked to Scoops to get ice cream and even though the place was packed, I felt no anxiety at all. On another day, I probably would have said NOPE and left Henry and Chooch standing half inside the shop. That’s how I know for sure today is a good day. I think Korea is saving my life.

Feb 062017


Well guys, one of these days Chooch is going to smother me in my sleep and can you blame him? His little neighbor friend walked over when we were taking these pictures in the backyard, stopped abruptly, and then slowly backed away.

Chooch was like, “Great. Awesome. Thanks.” Meanwhile, he had told the kid that he couldn’t play right now because he was “doing chores.”

“Yeah, I’m uh…’doing the dishes’. I’ll be over in a half hour,” he said when the kid called him on Henry’s phone*. THIS IS MY LEAST FAVORITE NEIGHBORHOOD CHILD TOO. Of course he’d come snooping.

*(All the kids call Chooch on Henry’s phone. Chooch knows better than to give out my number. #kidallergy)


One of the things I wanted to do this year was actually use my half-broken camera more often instead of relying on my iPhone all the livelong day. Little did Chooch know that he was going to get roped into helping me uphold this fake resolution.

LOL who are we kidding, he totally knew.


This only took about 20 minutes though, and then he was back to being a normal 10-year-old kid again, running amok with that jerky neighbor kid.

“Just think,” I said. “Someday, we’ll have an entire portfolio of fashion shots for you to show your future girlfriends.”

“Future girlfriends? I’m not showing them this shit!”

Lol duh. That’s my job, dummy.


I made Chooch a hair appointment for this week, and I’m sure he’s really glad about that now after being tortured with hairspray and clips. I honestly can’t believe he lets me do this shit. Which makes me believe that he secretly finds this SO MUCH AWESOME FUN.


Right? Look how much fun he’s having!!

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Oh well, I got paid back later when Henry went to do laundry, leaving me with the daunting task of making dinner for Chooch, and as if microwaving his French bread pizza wasn’t hard enough, he wanted it cut into quarters as well?! I BURNT MY HAND trying to cut that shit.

And then he could only eat three of the quarters because the one was rock solid from over-microwaving. So there.



Jan 152017


We fought a lot today, but everyone’s friends again. Don’t worry.


I have my own similar “brooding through a chain link fence” emo band shot of myself. Not ashamed. 





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Brought to you by hateful yelling, BIGBANG style inspo, early-00’s Contempo outerwear. 

The end.

Dec 282016

I’m spending my free time today scrambling to catch up with all of the RIP Glenns that have been piling up. What a shitty year for celebrity deaths. It doesn’t help that I have the real Glenn sitting behind me, saying things like, “What about Zsa Zsa Gabor Glenn? Did you do a John Glenn Glenn yet?” And I’m like, “UGH I KNOW OK, THEY’RE ON MY EVER-GROWING LIST.”

“—-what about Arnold Palmer Glenn?”

UGH I ALREADY DID THAT ONE. God, take a gander at the RIP Wall every now and again, would you?!

And then Gayle was all, “ARE YOU GOING TO DO A PRINCESS LEIA GLENN?!” and I almost yelled, “I QUIT.” But instead, I mumbled, “Yeah I started one and then I SCREWED IT UP.”

(I have a separate post to do for George Michael. Le sigh.)

So here, please enjoy some pictures of my cats, Penelope Ann Killer (a/k/a Peen Lop) and Drew Nightmare Walden (a/k/a Potato) while I draw my hands off. </3


Her markings remind me a little bit of Speck (RIP).



She is seriously an idiot.


The best cat. -Riley

^^^EW! I left the draft of this open on the computer at home and it looks like I’VE BEEN HACKED.

P.S. I just went to CVS on my lunch break to buy colored pencils because I need ONE BROWN for shading and it was $7!! That seems like so much! (Can you tell I rarely shop for things other than records and concert tickets?!)

I wonder if I can get reimbursed…

Lol j/k. 

Dec 262016

Oh boy, guess what time it is?! Annual Christmas portraits of Chooch in the cemetery! And as usual, it was the only time we fought all day because I get so irritated with using my actual camera anymore.

I use this excuse every single time, but my camera is like a dying dog that needs puts out of its misery. But buying a new one is just not something I care about right now (priorities: concerts and traveling for concerts) so I keep dragging the old, broken bitch out of the house when the time comes, which really is only about twice a year these days because I’m lazy and apathetic as fuck. But at least this time I remembered to charge the battery the night before!

As usual, there was tons of fighting in the beginning. The camera was all out of whack and I started launching death threats at Henry because everything is his fault. But then he fiddled with the setting and everything was OK but I still hated him so he hung back and let us do our thing. We eventually walked across the street to the other side of the cemetery and Henry completely left us alone, and suddenly Chooch and I were best friends and I hadn’t yelled, “JUST FORGET IT!” and marched off in a huff in at least 10 minutes! A record!

Anyway, here are pictures of my kid, age 10, on Christmas 2016 after eating a lazy picnic of egg salad sandwiches and Chips Ahoy that Henry half-assedly tossed into a tiny cooler. These picnics are dying the same slow death as my camera!

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It looks like Chooch is so congenial here! But what was actually happening was he was saying, “FUCK MY LIFE” with a mirthless laugh.


And here he is laughing at my camera-caused anguish.




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Things got OK from this point on. I wasn’t feeding off of Henry’s presence anymore and my blood pressure was starting to level out.

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I don’t know why, but somehow the theme became “Sad Mouseketeer” – I just rolled with it because Chooch was actually being pleasant to work with and sometimes you just have to let the model take the lead.

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The “please adopt me” face.

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This is the look he’s usually giving me at any given moment of the day.

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When we got in the car to leave, Chooch said to Henry, “Daddy, everything was fine once you left.” SEE?! Henry is the catalyst.

And then the rest of the day was fine because I didn’t have a camera in my hand. Henry said it probably just needs serviced and I was like YOU NEED SERVICED UGH.

Dec 232016

Last weekend was one of those weekends where absolutely nothing was planned and nothing spectacular happened, but it was still so satisfying in a low-key, housebound way. IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE. I feel like for no reason whatsoever, Chooch and I were extremely batshit bonkers, more than usual, even though he was sick….so OK maybe it was mostly me being a giddy noisemaker.

One thing’s for sure though: I took a lot of pictures. WANNA SEE THEM, HERE THEY GO.

Penelope, imitating Robert Smith.

There’s this American Kpop dancer that I LOVE (jellybeannose) and I was making Henry watch her YouTube channel. We watched a lot of her “random facts about me” videos and then on Saturday we watched her FOUR PART VLOG from when she went to KOREA in 2013 for a Kpop competition!! But then BOOTS AND PHYLLIS kept interrupting that with their explosive fighting (an update on them is forthcoming). 


Chooch had an ear infection and spent most of his weekend making rainbow loom bracelets (lame). When I took this picture, he we freestyling a song about how he was dying of an ear ache and all his mom cared about was getting drunk on a Saturday night. Hey, I wasn’t sick so I could do what I wanted. 

Earlier that day, he insisted on watching the Polar Express and I only half-watched but hated it. The animation made me uncomfortable! (He rolled his eyes at me for that.) Also, he was mad because I asked him when someone was going to die. 


Chooch: Well, they’re elves, so….

You know what else makes me uncomfortable? The Merci chocolate commercial where they sing that ZZ Top “Thank You” song. 


More rainbow looming, under the watchful eye of Mr. Tom Selleck 


On Sunday, Chooch had piano lessons and we both gave Cheryl a present – I gave her a mixtape painting and he gave her — SURPRISE — a rainbow loom bracelet. And then we competed to see whose present she liked best but she wouldn’t tell us. 

“Yeah, well, she can’t WEAR yours,” Chooch said. 

“I mean, I could probably wear it around my neck….but that would be weird,” Cheryl said. 

She is honestly the best and I hope she never quits teaching him piano. But if she does, I hope we can become friends IRL (as opposed to just inside my head). 

Came home and had a HUGE fight (ok not really) with Henry, a/k/a Worst Boyfriend Ever, because he said he wouldn’t rise from the dead to avenge my death if we were both murdered. NO WE WEREN’T WATCHING THE CROW, WHAT. 


Henry took this picture of Chooch & me, conspiring against him and I love it because this image captures our devious relationship so perfectly. WE ARE MENACES. 


Meanwhile, Henry baked some bomb coconut cream pie. Our little Martha Stewart, rewarding our shitty behavior with dessert. 

We show our affection by fluffing Henry’s beard and he hates it. 

To cap off the weekend, I made henry drive us around so I could judge people’s Christmas lights. I AM VERY PARTICULAR ABOUT LIGHT DISPLAYS. 

“Did you just call that house a monstrosity?” Chooch asked from the backseat. DAMN RIGHT I DID. Don’t mix big bulbs with small bulbs and I won’t criticize your gross judgment, sloppy homeowner. 

I get real heated about this. 

I know, you probably have me pegged as the type who gets a thrill out of those houses buried under eight tons of bulbs with every square inch of their yard occupied by blow-up Santas and plastic snowmen and you know what? GUILTY! But I also really love houses that do nothing more than line their frame with those old-school big bulbs, the kinds that were prominent in the 70s and 80s I guess. 

And I love the minimalists, with candles in the windows, bows on the doors, and a subtle spotlight illuminating the house. 

It’s easy to judge when your house has zero decoration on the outside, haha. 

We listened to Joyce Manor the whole time and that was just so divine. 

Not an outrageous weekend full of social engagements and milestones, but it still felt pretty perfect. <3

Oct 012016

Today is October 1 for those who don’t have a calendar. I am celebrating that by sitting under a blanket and shivering, which hopefully doesn’t mean I’m getting sick. Henry is currently driving all around Western Pennsylvania, trying to procure the ingredients for the difficult pies I chose to represent us at this year’s pie party.

That being said, I’m bored so here’s another blog post, a virtual landfill of September photos that I would like to delete from my phone now.

Some “3 Fictional Character” thing was circulating all over social media for the last several weeks. I didn’t do it for myself because it would just be SLOTH from the Goonies, three times.

Or maybe just twice and then Heather from Blair Witch as the third because I’m bossy, stubborn, map-stupid and emotional and when that movie came out, all my guy friends side-eyed me. 

 But I did make one for Henry! He doesn’t love it. Andyyyyyy!

Maybe because his didn’t have Leslie Knope on it like everyone else’s.

Crying on the inside.

Not just for me, but for basically everyone I polled in our department, this past week was phenomenally horrible as far as work goes. I cried at one point at my desk on Wednesday because it just felt like I couldn’t do anything right. Not that I’m happy my other work friends also felt frazzled, but it was nice to know I wasn’t alone in the sinking ship. So, it felt kind of significant that as I left work on Friday, the last day of September, there was a double rainbow.


LAUGHTER THHRU TEARS, RAINBOWS THRU RAINDROPS. Something like that, right? It was nice to have that “Everything is going to be OK” sign.

I think that Friday was the first day all week that I actually laughed at work. It kind of felt like things were starting to calm down and then Gayle sent me some website that she found while doing work-related research for Saint German Violet Flame and now I have a new religion, thanks Gayle! Glenn was also looking at the website and just as I was saying, “THIS SOUNDS AWESOME” he was saying, “This guy sounds like a wack job.”

“I’m like the perfect candidate for cults and kidnappings,” I blurted out loud, to which Glenn had no bon mot for once.


I interrupted their serial killer greeting card-making session. So sorry. Also, some lady wants to sell our cards in her shop in like Portland or wherever, and Henry is being such a fucking diva about it. Like, yes or no?!

Henry’s like “First she makes me go to this fucking show and now I have to have my picture taken too? Ugh.”

I was so excited to meet my e-friend Alex for coffee the other night! We met virtually two years ago when our mutual friend Alex paired us up for that Pittsburgh blog swap thing and she wrote on my blog about her favorite Pittsburgh haunts. Also, she was living in Brookline at the time and we somehow never crossed paths. Anyway, this was her last night in Pittsburgh (she’s moving to Colorado) so I was really grateful that she made time for me. She’s a beautiful soul and she reminds me a lot of myself when I was 19-22. No fear, out-going, and ready for adventure. THEN HENRY HAPPENED. Lol, j/k. I chose this destiny.

Anyway, my favorite part of the night was when talked about our favorite scene bands from 2005.

I almost messaged her that day to cancel. This was the day that I cried at my desk and I was like, “I JUST WANT TO GO HOME AND STUFF MY HEAD UNDER A PILLOW” but then I dusted myself off and forced myself to leave the house and thank god for that because just the sheer act of talking to a veritable stranger was the slap in the face that I needed, so thank you for that, Alex. <3

When we were in Chicago, Henry’s mom broke our kitchen faucet (lol) and this is Chooch and Henry messaging about how she wanted Chooch to get Hot Naybor Chris to come over and fix it. Lol at “she didn’t say ‘hot naybor’ obviously.”

Lunch break feet.

Summer’s birthday party happened earlier in the month and that was fun! Can’t believe she’s a year old already! My Timehop the other day was from 4 years ago when Wendy, Barb, Kaitlin and I were at Bucca di Beppo and Wendy said if she ever had a baby she’d name it Stoma. (Barb had recently had a surgery and this was a hot topic for Wendy – she loves gross body talk.) We were cracking up about this last week because back then, having a baby was something that Wendy was so sure she didn’t want! It’s crazy how things change – now I can’t imagine Wendy without her Summer! She is such a natural at this mom thing. 

And Henry finally picked up my new/old wheelchair. I LOVE YOU, WHEELCHAIR!

Anyway, Henry is home now with all the pie shit so I want to go and complain to him about life. I hope you’re making dangerous choices this weekend. Live it up.

Nov 102015



Pascal wouldn’t give Pancho money for ice cream. Mother gave him five whole dollars and said to make sure his brother got an ice cream, but Pascal spent it all on a candle for his dumb girlfriend who stunk like PSLs and was real frangible, Pascal said. She spent hours carving her face and Pancho thought she looked hideous. Pancho hated her. Peg. What a dumb name.

Pancho really wanted a motherfucking ice cream, and what made Pascal the fugleman of frosty funds? Pancho hated Pascal even more than he hated Peg and her silicon chest-gourds.

Everyone knew they were fake!


“And stop carrying that ax around everywhere. No one is scared!” Pascal sneered at Pancho. “Everyone knows it’s fake!” Just like Peg’s pepos, Pancho thought quietly to himself. “Mother bought it at the Halloween store for $8!”

Pascal was wrong though. Unlike Peg’s synthetic jugs, his ax was real. He swapped it out with Farmer Picklepecker’s real like battle ax last week after Pascal made fun of him for carrying around a baby’s weapon. What are you gonna kill with that thing? Stink bugs? The pimples on your back? Pascal yelled across the playground one day, when Pancho was talking to his crush, Pepper.

Pepper laughed so hard, it was all Pancho could hear in his head, like sheets of metal shaking against his ears. She laughed and laughed and laughed until she was nothing more but a bad memory stuffed inside a dumpster with rotted meat and cat shit.


Pancho grudgingly followed Pascal home along the river. It was getting late and Mother would be expecting them to set the mannequins up near the window; ever since Pa ran off with the Bulgarian gymnast coach, Mother liked the neighbors to think that the house was full of friends and livelihood, as if she wasn’t eating her weight in beer nuts and watching DVRd recordings of Family Feud, and not even the good ones with Richard Dawson, but that shitty Steve Harvey garbage.

Hearing the river whooshing below them, Pancho considered pushing Pascal into it, but Pascal caught on quickly; his rounded eye-cuts made for exceptional peripheral peering and his reflexes were on point.

“I’ll rip your stem off!” Pascal laughed.


“You’re such a dumb baby. Dear Diary, my brother wouldn’t buy me ice cream today. I am a big cry baby. I am going to stick my pacifier in my mouth now.” Pascal laughed at his own stupid joke and Pancho started to cry.


“I’m going to tell Mother on you!” Pancho whimpered.

“Oh no, please don’t tell MOTHER on me,” Pascal begged, dragging down his voice with theatrical whines.


Pascal’s mocking tone took Pancho back to a time when Mother bought him a new doll for Christmas, the kind with human heads and long flaxen hair.

The kind that Pancho would tattoo with Mother’s simmering cigarette butts.

The kind that Pancho would decapitate with Mother’s pinking shears.


And then Pancho drifted off into a sanguinary gapeseed as Pascal’s needling taunts and baby-talked derision faded away until it blended with the birds above and the blood crashing against the inside of his head.

And then—-


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[Alternately titled: Bored during my lunch break when it’s raining and there’s nowhere else to go but sit at my idiotic desk.]

Nov 082015

Today we hung out with Blake so I could photograph a sequel to the pumpkin head photos that he posed for in 2009. I wanted to use the inside of a church as the location but Henry was like NOT IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD so then Blake suggested that we walk down a bike trail nearby in Hays, which took us past the spot where Barb’s beloved eagle nest is located. IN YER FACE BARB!

Anyway, it was a nice leisurely stroll and Chooch and Blake were excited because they saw a bitch fall off her bike BUT I MISSED IT, UGH. 

“And she even had training wheels!” Chooch wheezed with laughter, at which point Blake said he didn’t realize it was a kid and now he was having laughter remorse; I would not have tried to return my laughter though HAD I SEEN IT. 

Hope everyone had a non-volatile Sunday with little-to-no bicycle spills. 

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Afterward, we went to Steak n Shake, where Blake fake-bullied Chooch and then Chooch fake-cried (he is scarily good at that) pretty much the whole time and I think the only reason we didn’t get kicked out is because the employees were being just as rowdy and obnoxious and they were apparently bullying our waitress?! I didn’t know this until after we left and Henry mentioned that there was a group of them talking shit on her, wtf? 

Now I kind of want to go back and defend her honor, even though she served me a grilled cheese with a BEEF PATTY on it. 


My favorite part was when Blake tried to force Chooch to eat a crayon while people at other tables were probably recording the scene to later parent-shame us on social media. 

And also when Blake spilled Chooch’s lemonade during one of their violent fits on each other. 

And let’s not forget when Blake smashed the cardboard kids meal bus that he and Chooch built together, causing Chooch to dramatically and believably fake-cry, making Blake look like a grade A brute. 

The only thing that was missing was one of them hauling back an arm to punch the other, but accidentally missing and punching a loaded tray out of a waitress’s hands. 

Sep 062015


Yesterday, I remembered this old Lip Service Asian-style smoker’s jacket thing that I bought ages ago when Avalon in Oakland was awesome and sold new shit and not “gently worn” basic bitch cardigans. Obviously, I’m too fat so sad to wear it anymore, but I paid a lot of money for it and I like it too much to sell on eBay or drop off at Goodwill. Plus, this was supposed to be my signature jacket for once I was turned into a vampire and I’m still clinging on to that, OK?

Chooch and I were bored yesterday evening. Henry was napping (what a shocker). I needed to take a break from the painting I’m currently working on, and that’s usually when I pull out the camera. Taking pictures always calms me down. Except for when Chooch gives me a hard time and then we fight and we hate each other and I make him an orphan and then Henry yells at both of us and there are tears and I threaten to smash my camera against a tombstone.

(OMG remember the unicorn in the wheelchair photoshoot when Chooch and I were unsupervised and far away from home!?)

Chooch was having a pretty good hair day so I yanked that jacket out of the back of my closet, knocking a bunch of other things off the hangers and then leaving them on the floor for Henry to pick up later. I had Chooch try it on and it actually kind of fit him so I asked him if he would wear it in pictures and he was like, “WOULD I?” as he gently stroked the faux-fur on the sleeves.

We originally had no theme in mind until we went in the backyard and saw that our neighbor Larry*had a shovel and wheelbarrow laying around, so Chooch grabbed the shovel and started digging. And that’s how this happened.

*(I have no idea who this guy is but Chooch literally knows every single person on our street; he’s much more people-y than I am)

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My favorite memory of this jacket is from 1998, when I was having a big party at my townhouse (it was first post-high school apartment so you can imagine what went on there) for my friend Lisa’s birthday. One of my mom’s friends lived in the same townhome complex and saw me in the parking lot that night wearing this jacket. She called my mom and totally NARC’d on me, because she knew I didn’t have a job and made some passive aggressive comment about how “Erin is always wearing such nice, fancy clothes.” BECAUSE I HAD A CORPORATE AMERICAN EXPRESS CARD THAT MOMMY PAID FOR, mind your own business, cooze!

But yeah, my mom called me the next day and was all, “Blah blah called me and said…”

It wasn’t even THAT expensive, maybe like $150? Which I guess is kind of a lot of money for a sporadically-employed 18-year-old sometimes-telemarketer to spend on a jacket that she knew she was only going to wear twice, probably.


Hot Naybor Chris came out at one point to get something from his garage. He looked at us, did a double take, raised one eyebrow curiously, and then shrugged. God love him.


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This was his own pose. I think he really liked wearing that jacket.


I just let him do whatever keeps him content and easy to work with. I learned that the hard way over the years.

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And since Chooch was wearing his Never Shout Never shirt underneath the jacket, here is one of their new songs. They just released their new album last month and we were listening to it in the car yesterday when we went to visit our friend Ricky, and I felt like I was in a psychedelic haze by the time it played the whole way through.

I gotta hand it to Chooch for making me give NSN a second chance when he got into them two years ago, because I had way too hastily written off Christofer Drew. That kid is a fucking weirdo in all the best ways, and the new album is fantastic.

Aug 242015


See also: I need to give my fingers a break from typing so here’s a photo dump, Blog.

Words cannot describe how beautiful Savannah is. I’ve wanted to visit so badly, that I was kind of starstruck to the point of not taking as many photos as I should have. (Yay, just what you guys need—more fucking photos!)


Octavia wanted to take us in this church but some asshole had to go and die and have their idiot funeral that day. Way to ruin my birthday, dead person.

Henry was happy that this plan was foiled by the reaper, because he dislikes being in god’s house.


I was stupid-scared of these steps, but Octavia said this warning was mostly there for drunk people and hobos, both of which I walk like on a good day, so that didn’t help. NICE TRY, OCTAVIA.




Henry was considering walking straight off into the river and drowning himself. Chooch was starting to that thing that kids sometimes do called TESTING THEIR PARENTS’ PATIENCE.



We spent about 15 minutes scrutinizing Forrest Gump movie stills on Octavia’s phone until we settled on this being the site of Chippewa Square where Forrest’s bench was. There were people on Segways congregating there before us, so maybe?



We saw an antique shop and Chooch wanted to go in but all I could think about was how I really didn’t want a replay of the Chooch in a China Shop episode of our weekend in Philly last winter.


Yeah! Me too! Bandwagoner!


Lastly, here is Chooch with the succulent/weed he plucked out of the sidewalk for me.

We started to walk back to the parking garage around 4:30, because it was HOT and we were all pretty exhausted. Thank god we left when we did because by the time we got back to Bonaventure for Octavia to retrieve her car, THEY WERE BASICALLY CLOSED. There were some workers by the gate and they tried to stop us from driving in but Henry was like, “We’re just taking her back to her car!” and then all exchanged blue collar, uniform-wearing hyuks and we were allowed to pass by. Henry is so weird when it comes to interacting with those kinds of people.

After saying our temporary goodbyes, we headed back to the “hotel” so we could rest for a little bit before attempting to find somewhere to eat dinner.

“What’s Octavia’s real name?” Chooch said from the backseat.

Uhhh….Octavia?” I answered in my favorite condescending teenager tone.

This seemed to please him. He’s basically obsessed with her now.

Jul 052015

Today I decided I wanted to take some photos of Henry and Chooch, because it’s been awhile. Caution: Henry smiles in some of these. (SOME.)



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It’s not easy for Chooch to make normal faces.



He was mad because I took him away from his dumb friends to, god forbid, spend family time together in the cemetery.

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Henry could have buttoned his shirt at least once more so that he’d look less like second cousin Eugene who lost all his money in a cyber-mall pyramid scheme in 1998 and reeks of Wild Turkey and dumpster cabbage. 


Henry’s favorite part of the day.


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Life is rough, you guys.

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Jun 292015


It rained A LOT over the weekend, so when we had a little bit of a reprieve on Sunday afternoon, I begged Chooch to go for a walk with me. And then, since he got to buy a new Skylander on Saturday, I guilted him into letting me take more pictures of him, because I was bored as fuck. (This happens every time I designate a “chill” weekend. I am just not meant to sit at home.)

Henry, barely glancing up from the couch, mumbled, “Be careful” as we walked out the door.


There are a lot of creepy alleys in Brookline, so we picked one and went from there.


Chooch’s dumb mouth set off a series of dog-barking, which was totally annoying and brought a ton of attention to the two a-holes slinking around suspiciously behind houses. As we neared what seemed to be the alpha dog on the street, I mistakenly said, “Hi buddy!” which alerted, I am not shitting you, EIGHT MORE DOGS to come charging at the fence from the side of the house.

Granted, they were all really small dogs, terriers and things like that (I’m bad with recognizing canine breeds), but their barks were way bigger than the large alpha dog guarding the gate. Chooch and I cracked up because it was so cartoon-ish how this herd of tiny dogs just materialized seemingly out of nowhere.

I bet that street doesn’t have a burglary problem.


His face is always dirty.


Chooch got this shirt from the Pierce the Veil show in Lancaster when he was 6. I think it’s an Adult XS and now it almost doesn’t fit him anymore! :(


Yes, please. Pretend like you’re breaking and entering. Alert more hounds.


I like this one because it looks like he’s in a “DON’T COME NEAR ME!” stance, which is lovely and sends all the right messages to Child Protective Services.


Almost all of Chooch’s time these days is monopolized by the neighborhood kids (he has a fan club — they sit on the porch and wait for him) so I was happy that he gave me 30 minutes of his precious time. He actually didn’t even bitch about it once we got out of the door!


I’m pretty sure the only reason Chooch agreed to go on this walk with me is because he was hoping to stumble upon his GIRLFRIEND.


On the way home, we walked past succulent city! Some house had a whole shit load of succulents in long troughs and I plucked one of the leaves right the fuck off so I could take it home and propagate it because “propagate” is now a regular part of my vocabulary. Chooch was appalled that I “stole” this, but no dogs barked so it was an easy getaway.


Later that night, I was inspired by the upcoming premier of the new MTV Scream series (and also my brother Corey’s fanatical texts while watching MTV’s Scream marathon) to revisit the first Scream movie. Somehow, Chooch has lived nine years without ever seeing it (though he does know about it), so he ran upstairs to grab his blanket and then settled in on the couch with Henry and me in a rare, American family moment. (Henry will usually go in the other room and pretend like he’s doing important things on the computer when we watch horror movies because he’s scared.)

“That lady looks familiar,” Chooch said at one point.

“She was on ‘Friends,'” I said, and then he knowingly said, “Oh yeah. Courtney Cox.”

This cracked me up, that a nine-year-old knows Courtney Cox’s name because of ‘Friends’.

Anyway, after Scream ended, Chooch emphatically announced, “I LOVED IT.” And then, after thinking about it, he added, “I didn’t know it was going to be so funny, too.” Nothing fazes him.

Jun 222015


Incredibly, Chooch agreed to an impromptu photo shoot today when I came home from work and didn’t even ask for money or Skylanders in return. And I know exactly why.



Chooch has a “girlfriend” apparently. She’s someone from his class and before school ended, they exchanged Instagram names. So now he’s all about pictures of himself, so that he can post them and then tag her to see if she’ll say anything. Usually it’s things like, “You’re weird.”


So he was like, “Yeah let’s do this thang.”


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His go-to pose.

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His hair combined with his loud mouth make it easy to keep tabs on him when he’s out and about.


Obligatory Flock of Seagulls shot.

In other news, taking in-focus photos is becoming increasingly harder for me to accomplish because my eyesight is getting so horrible but I still haven’t made an appointment to get them checked because I LIVE DANGEROUSLY. Also because I constantly forget to do adult things.