Feb 052020

I realized today that the picture I’ve been using as my desktop background at work for the last few months now is a picture from Starfield Library at the Coex Mall in Seoul. It’s giving me inspiration to stay committed to my reading challenge, and also making me REALLY want to go back to Korea super soon ugh.

Now that I’m into my second month of the challenge, I wanted to report back with some significant findings, such as the fact that my idle social media perusing is WAY DOWN. Don’t ask me if I watched your Story because I probably haven’t!

I’m also watching way less pointless YOUTUBE videos*, which was always my go-to after work routine while Henry is making my dinner haha. Now, I either walk to the library to pick up new requests that are waiting for me, or I stay home and read a chapter or two. I feel like the old me again!

*(except that now when I AM on YouTube, I’m watching “booktubers” – what kind of bizarre realm have I fallen into? Henry hates this new literary side of YouTube sooooo much, which makes me like it even more haha. Also, they tell me what to read so I don’t accidentally pick up garbage like I did over the summer when I needed a book for the plane and I grabbed Baby Teeth. Such a shitty book.)

I still have time set aside for Exercise every night so basically I just cut out all the dumb shit and filled those newly-empty time slots with book-reading and I already feel like my brain is making a comeback (whether that is reflected in my blogging remains to be seen though, ha).

So basically, this has been a big lesson in time management for me. I can’t tell you how much nervous energy I have been harboring these last few months, a culmination of stress and needing a new outlet I guess. Telling myself to stop saying “I don’t have time for that” and allowing myself quiet time to sit and read (Erin, it’s ok to sit down and relax!) has done wonders for my anxiety. (I mean, I’m still a spaz and can barely handle the most base human interactions but I’m…trying?)

I’m about to start my fourth book for February and I’m really excited! It feels like a game and I am scoring so many points! Woo.

Also, it annoys Chooch because I’m a fast reader and he hates when I can do anything better/faster than him so this has been such a big win in so many ways. Thank you, fake New Years Resolutions and Goodreads. You are making me a better and more competitive person. Erin rulz!!

What? I’m not manic. You’re manic.

Jan 212020

*(OK “romance” might be a stretch.)

So I guess Sundays have become “Henry Tries a New Coffee” Day. I’m totally fine with that because I love going to cafes but it’s no fun when I’m the only one enjoying it.

LOL wait a minute – who am I kidding? I only care about my own cafe pleasure!

The thing with Henry is that he has even less tolerance for any coffee cantina that’s gonna draw in The Influencers, OH YOU KNOW THE TYPES. So I have to really ease him into this scene by selecting laidback and neutral spots where middle-aged men with no fashion sense and calloused hands can nurse a drink without being eyeballed for wearing a flannel BUT NOT THE RIGHT FLANNEL.

We decided to go to the new Black Forge location. Henry’s been to the original place once and didn’t die from living botanical Instagram walls or impatient baristas who sigh because you want to actually look at the menu and then snap WE ONLY HAVE OAT when you audaciously ask for soy, what, I’m not going off an a personal tangent here or anything.

The thing with Black Forge is that it’s a DARK HAVEN. Like you’ve walked into Hell while all the fires are extinguished. Just, blackness everywhere. Metal-themed coffee drink names. Anti-Trump Administration punch cards. You’d expect the lot to be all motorcycles and hearses.

And the other thing with this place is that no one treats you like your eyeliner isn’t smoky enough or you don’t have enough tattoos or you’ve never Ghost.

(The band. Not the movie. God.)

Every single barista I have encountered here has been SO AWESOME. The young guy there on this day was all “Cool!” after each order we placed and you know, I felt like he really did think it was cool when I ordered the Unicorn Beat Blast with soy, hot. It made me feel more confident in my choice.

I walked away before Henry ordered because of the secondhand embarrassment I get upon overhearing him bungle drink orders. It’s so bad sometimes.

Henry got a cold brew with almond milk (simple enough to relay to the barista but I’m sure he still fucked it up) and I think he’s determined that this is His Drink now. He just can’t get behind hot coffee. He doesn’t like anything sweet in it, no sugar, sweetener, syrups. No whole milk. It’s almond or GTFO, I guess.

I’m selfishly excited about this because sometimes, SOMETIMES, Henry makes his own cold brew at home for me and it’s always the best when he does this because I love iced coffee too but not when I brew a pot and then dump ice in it. No. I like when Henry makes legit cold brew, so now that he suddenly has a taste for it, perhaps he will start making it again??

I just asked him.

“He used to make cold brew?” Chooch asked, his eyebrows pulled up in skepticism.

“Yeah like twice,” I scoffed.

“I MADE IT MORE THAN TWICE!” Henry yelled from his post at the Valentine Card Work Station.

Chooch is a Big Nope for coffee but he really likes a good chai latte and agrees with me that Crazy Mocha is the best, Starbucks can suck it, and Black Forge’s was “good once it cooled down.” OK Goldilocks.

There was a dog there and that was literally all Chooch cared about.

I have to give it to Henry though: he’s way less dramatic about this than I was when I was trying to force myself to like beer.

Maybe I’ll start a new series here where Henry reviews coffee every Sunday. I just proposed this to him and he scrunched up his face and walked away. I think that’s a yes! SEE YA BACK HERE ON SUNDAY FOR HENRY’S KOFFEE KLATCH!

Jan 072020

I originally posted this 4 years ago but it came up today at work and I felt inspired to re-share lest anyone forget that I’m a dick.

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I was joking the other day at work about how trouble follows me everywhere I go in that department, and why when I am clearly such a sweet, innocent, demure human being!? And it got me thinking about other jobs I had, where I was a holy terror on purpose and gave no fucks about it, because what was the worst that was going to happen? I was going to quit after three days and my mom would still pay my rent.

Rinse and repeat.

But if I had to pick a place that got the best version of Asshole Erin, it was definitely Echostar.

PICTURE IT: The year was 1998. I had recently lost the only steady job I ever had, as a telemarketer for Olan Mills Portrait Studio—which, coincidentally, is how I met the guy who got me to take the only bus ride of my life, which I mentioned last week. Joey was one of my cold calls (as opposed to those on the coveted and golden PAST CUSTOMER LIST) and after letting me pant my way through the whole portrait package spiel, he laughed and said, “Well, that sounds really great, except I don’t need it because I’m a photographer.” Turns out, he was in Pittsburgh going to the Art Institute for photography, and we REALLY HIT IT OFF over the phone. Like, instant connection. This is how people used to hook up back in the day! Over the phone, on sales calls. Anyway, my supervisor was starting to catch wind that I was no longer trying to make a sale, or at least, not the kind of sale I was being paid to make, so I quickly gave him my number and then we proceeded to stay up all night on the phone when I got home that evening and before I knew it, we were making wedding plans, moving to Montana, and buying a sheepdog. I mean, until I actually met him and then it was “……” But I still got on a bus with him and went to his place on the Southside, because I’m fucking smart.

OK OK, so our Olan Mills telemarketing branch got shut down (thanks, Internet) and my mom was started to put pressure on me to find something else. There was another telemarketing job after that, where I sold a credit card terminal to a tattoo shop and then got a free (and shitty) tattoo out of it, because back then I had A Personality and it was impossible for me to not make friends over the phone. Now I won’t even ANSWER the phone. So by this point, I had myself pigeon-holed to the telemarketing industry. It was apparently the only skill I had attained somehow. That’s a little known fact about dropping out of high school: you’re spilled out into this holding cell while everyone else is running off to college like normal, functioning humans, and you’re given two options: drugs or telemarketing. I had a mild interest in drugs back then, but then my friend Brian got me a job at Olan Mills and totally ruined that plan.

After quitting the credit card terminal place, I applied at Echostar (Dish Network), which had just opened a huge call center in McKeesport and it was like A Really Big Deal for us people who weren’t qualified to do anything much greater than bag groceries. It was so new that the call center wasn’t even finished, so the training classes were being held in this really old joint called the Peoples Building, and it was such a shady area that we had to have security guards escort us from the building to the parking garage every night. (Evening classes, ya’ll.)

What I will always remember the most about this job is that I started on the Monday directly after returning from Philly, where I had attended the Dracula’s Ball with my friend Cinn. I almost didn’t show up for my first class at all because my eyebrow piercing had become so infected from all the glitter I was wearing that evening, plus the fact that the new hoop was shoved in forcefully by some guy who looked like the guy Happy Gilmore shot with a nail gun to the point where I PASSED OUT IN HIS SHOP and woke up on a couch with him standing above me, holding a paper towel saturated with my blood, saying, “Wow, look how much you bled!” So all of these factors led to an eventual infection which caused my eyelid to swell up and I had to walk into this class room with my hair covering one side of my face, looking like I was trying to hide a black eye. But then I was like “Fuck it” and just started flaunting it and that was how I made a bunch of friends in that class on my very first day, by being the youngest person in the class who had a gross piercing story to share as an introduction.

(I ended up going to the emergency room right after class that night, where a doctor had to cut the ring out of my face while a nurse watched on and said, “This is exactly why I told my daughter she’s never getting pierced.”)

At the start of this first class, our trainer Mike had us go around the room and say our name with a descriptive adjective that started with the same letter. I fucking love these things because I’m a nerd, so when it was my turn, I shot out of my seat and cried, “EFFERVESCENT ERIN!” Everyone in the class laughed at  my enthusiasm, and that was basically the start of Mike’s infinite disdain for me.

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There were lots of tests and POP QUIZZES.

The class was a month long. We had to learn all about the company, customer service, operating the company’s computer system, and all of the various cable packages they offered. It was kind of like telemarketing and support combined: we had to help customers with issues they might be experiencing with their service while trying to upsale them at the same time. I was kind of torn, because I used TCI for my digital cable and I was obsessed with it. (This was pre-Comcast.) I loved TCI so much that I turned down a pretty nice apartment when I found out that the cable used in that area was ADELPHIA.


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I sincerely wish I had stayed in touch with these people. They were fucking nuts.

So my heart was never really in this job from the get-go. (I mean, how much of a heart could one really put into this sort of job, anyway?) Class quickly became less of learning and more of an opportunity to hide behind computer terminals while passing notes and giggling with my new friends, Bobbie (a girl), Roniece, and Letecia.

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These girls though. They were the only reason I kept coming back to that class, night after night. One time, I arrived in tears because my pet frog Hubert had died that day. They helped me eulogize him on our break, and it was the sweetest thing that I will never forget. THEY WERE MY RIDE OR DIES, obviously, except that no one said that in 1998.

We were totally the bad kids, and very quickly we became A Class Divided: there was us and a handful of the other younger people plus some of the soccer moms (surprisingly) and then there were the Others, made up of the older women and the people who were surprisingly actually there to learn. They would get so fucking irate every time Mike would have to stop class to chastise one of us. It got really bad too, and if us Bad Kids wound up in the same place as some of the Others during our dinner break, they would get so ruffled and tight-lipped, like we had just sleazily oozed over the threshold, flicking our switchblades open and closed, popping our gum, and making cunnilingus Vs with our fingers.

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It was like being in college after all! Lol, j/k.

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One of the girls in our group got bitched at by Mike because he found out that she was sneaking out onto the fire escape to smoke. So then he had to have the building manager come up and lock the door to the fire escape, which made us scream dramatically about, “BUT WHAT IF THERE IS A FIIIIIIIRRRREEEEE?!” while cracking up behind his back.

There is one moment that stands out the most for me though, and that was the day we were learning how to add notes to customers’ accounts. The company was smart enough to make sure we were on a training server, so all of the customers were Jane and John Does. Trainer Mike was having each one of us take turns going into the fake accounts and adding notes based on the scenarios he read to us, so after the note was “published,” it would show up on everyone’s computer. I quickly realized that if I skipped ahead, I could add fake notes and then everyone else would see them by the time we made it to that particular account.

I quickly alerted my homegirls about this and we all giddily forged ahead and began adding childish notes, the only one I for sure remember was “Our trainer sucks ass.” NOT SAYING THAT WAS MINE.

But it was mine.

Needless to say, when the rest of the class, and Mike, stumbled upon these, there was a major uproar. The people on our side laughed and appreciated the effort of our antics, while the nerdy ones were appalled at our juvenile behavior and began clucking and whatever else old bitches do when they’re mad at the Youth of Today.

Mike was furious. I mean, this was his breaking point. You could practically see his pupils turning into boiling point thermostats, the veins popping out of his forehead like someone REALLY WAIST DEEP in some late night viewing of The Erotic Network, the LARGE FONT letters queuing up in his brain before exploding out into a “I DON’T GET PAID ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKING BULLSHIT” rant.

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When Mike eventually regained his composure—kind of—he pounded his fist against his desk and demanded that whomever did this, speak up.

Of course none of us did. And he definitely could narrow down the suspect pool to three. But Bobbie, Roniece and I just hunkered down lower, our faces red from stifled laughter.

Then he started threatening us.

“If no one comes forward, then the whole class will suffer!” he roared, and this made the Other Half of the class pivot in their seats, thrusting their fingers at the three of us, screaming about life’s injustices and their inability to get a good Echostar education thanks to our disruptive behavior and basic tomfoolery. Still, we wouldn’t take the blame.

(This morning, I was actually telling Henry this story, and through tears of laughter I said, “Can you believe those bitches were so upset over that? What losers.” 

“Yeah, imagine being concerned about your job,” Henry dryly replied.)

Mike then told us that the CEO of the company, Charlie Something-Or-Other, was coming to town to deal with this, that the fucking CEO OF THE COMPANY was flying in from COLORADO just to YELL AT OUR WHOLE CLASS.

Like, OK sure, Mike. We all knew he was coming in because the grand opening of the Pittsburgh location was that weekend. But still we were sure surprised the next night when fucking Charlie himself made a guest appearance in our dumb classroom, and proceeded to lecture us about respecting Mike, how he puts a great deal of effort into employing the BEST TRAINERS to provide the rest of us with the knowledge we need to succeed within the company. Mike stood to his right, hands clasped behind his back, looking smugger than a motherfucker grading Echostar tests.

It was fucking surreal. I loved/hated every moment of it. I think we were simultaneously proud that our actions warranted such a dramatic response, but also stunned that we didn’t get fired when we probably should have.

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Hilariously, that one lady back there in the pink turtleneck was the wife of some dude who worked at my family’s drywall company, so she would go home and tell him about all the shit-stirring I did, and he in turn would go to work and tell my mom. The phone calls I got from my mom was fantastic. “What are you doing over there?!” she would cry. “Please don’t embarrass me!” But that dude’s wife was actually cool as shit; she was on our side and thought the whole situation was hysterical. When the “Goody-Goodies” started to rally against us, she gave me a big pep talk outside on the sidewalk and told me that they were just angry old women who had no joy in their lives and to not let them get me down. I mean, these broads went full-throttle Mean Girls on us, which was stupid because we weren’t directing any of our antics against them. We were just a bunch of goofy idiots who were bored at studying the various remote controls that came with the satellite dishes. I was nineteen — of course I didn’t take this job seriously!

But you know, looking back on it — wow I was a fucking douche bag.

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This was my life for a whole month.

Somehow, we all managed to make it to the end of the month-long training course, but the real victory is that we all PASSED THE TEST. It was time for us to move to the newly-built call center and begin our live training, head-sets and all. But first, we decided amongst ourselves that we should celebrate during our last class.

Even Trainer Mike was on board with having a party, but he was definitely partying for much different reasons.

I volunteered to get a cake, which was no skin off my back because all I had to do was call Mommy and tell her to deal with it.

“What do you want it to say?” she asked.

“I don’t know….;this class sucks’,” I joked. Then we went on to talk about other things, probably me whining about all the things I wanted her to buy me.

The next day, and I remember this vividly because it was a bad day, I had to leave my apartment to go to the mall and pick up the cookie cake. But first, I realized that I forgot my car keys, and how I realized this was that I was unable to open my car door with the CORDLESS PHONE that I left the house with instead of my key chains. And then I couldn’t open the apartment door because my apartment key was on the keychain so I had to call my mom (on the cordless!) to come and open my door with the spare key she had. Even back then, I was a spaz about being late. I have ALWAYS been a spaz about being late.

(Hey 1998 Erin, never change.)

By the time I had my keychain, I was in pedal-to-the-metal mode and floored it to the mall, where I said, “Nah!” when the Original Cookie people asked if I wanted to see the cookie cake before they put it in the bag. Then, several feet away from the stupid Peoples Building, I merged into the right lane and didn’t see that there was a car in my blind spot so then I had to pull over and deal with THAT nonsense.

And so I was late. And in a really shitty mood. Which didn’t get much better when Bobbie lifted the lid of the cookie cake to reveal that it boasted a delicious declaration of This Class Sucks.

“Fucccccck,” I whispered. “I thought my mom knew I was joking!” And then I played back our conversation and realized I never told her what I actually wanted the stupid fucking cake to say.

I was nearly about to cry because everything kept happening! But then I was like, “Fuck it, I’m probably going to quit this job anyway, so who cares.” And it turns out, Mike definitely didn’t care! He came over, swiped off the “cl” with one swift motion of his finger, and then started cracking up.

I guess we kind of made up that day, over pizza and unfortunate cake sentiments. But honestly, I think he was just really fucking giddy about never having to deal with us hooligans again.

I mean, look at how innocent I was! This was also when I was going through a heavy goth phase, in that I spent most of my free time in a goth chatroom, listened to goth music, and had goth Internet friends. I never went full-fledged goth, but LOOK AT HOW PALE I WAS. So I would go to my training class every night and teach all of my new, normal friends things about Dracula’s Ball, Sisters of Mercy, and Darkchat. Their response was always, “Giiiiiiirl.….” paired with the raised eyebrow of skepticism.

I did end up quitting right after we “graduated.” It just wasn’t for me. I saw Bobbie once afterward, when we met at Nigro’s, a lounge down the street from Echostar. And the next summer, I hung out with Roniece and it will forever be known as The Night I Died On The Street In Front of a Strip Club In Braddock; but earlier that evening, Roniece’s grandma saved my friend Keri from possibly dying from a bee sting, so the day was clearly full of second chances. I kept in touch with Leticia the longest out of all of them, and dragged her to the Denis Theater twice to see “white people movies” which she bitched about on the way there and then gushed over the way home. (“Shakespeare In Love” and “American Beauty” lol.) I even visited her a few years later when she had a baby. But eventually, I lost touch with her too. I wish I could remember their last names so I could Facebook-stalk them.

Anyway, the moral to this story is that I am not even close to being a troublemaker at my current job, even though Todd thinks I’m a “bully.” So there.

(I think I actually am kind of a bully though.)

Dec 252019

Yoooo, we really phoned it in with this but let me tell you, it’s a miracle this dumb photo even happened—it was so frustrating.

There was a better one of Henry, but Drew’s head was turned and Penelope was blurry, so sorry Hank. You should try smiling more (wow, you dudes actually say that shit to us girls for real and don’t feel like an asshole about it?!).

Anyway, I hope anyone who is reading this is having a nice, comfortable day and it hopefully surrounding themselves with loving people. I’m here with the cats (fine and also Henry and Chooch) so what more do I need? (I mean, I can think of a lot more but I’m trying to BE HUMBLE.)

Dec 232019

Rejoice, Reveluvs!! Red Velvet is BACK. This is totally my style, what a perfect early Xmas gift!

And on that note, I have to drag my ass to work after a full weekend of social engagements and bossing Henry around. Sigh.

Dec 222019


Just in case anyone forgets I have cats, here are some recent photos of them. They’re currently walking around the house like it’s their first day here because GOD FORBID some things got moved around yesterday and then people were here last night, so they still have a very concerned STRANGER DANGER mask upon their furry little faces.

I never had cats before who cared so much about toy mice. My old batch of cats (RIP ugh I miss them) never played with the toys I bought them instead opting for your basic twist ties and bottle caps. But these two, Penelope especially, play with every single mouse they’ve accumulated, all the holiday editions, all the ones with catnip, without catnip, the felt ones, the weird shimmery fabric ones—they fucking love them all.

Well, except for this basic pink one that Penelope absolutely hates for some reason and is always hiding it but then I find it and make a big production of returning it to her while shouting PENELOPE HERE IS PINK MOUSEY (except in cat speak, which is “dat is dat pink myousey.”) and she just glares at me.

We moved their cat tower into the dining room yesterday to open up the living room a bit because we hosted a small Christmas get-together and they are SO CONFUSED. I think it makes sense to keep it there because now they look out a window that they never really cared about before and Penelope was singing “A WHOLE NEW WORLD” while she watched someone in the driveway this morning. Also, she has a crush on Hot Naybor Chris so this would give her more opportunities to spy on him I would think.

Drew is not sold yet though

I threw a box on the floor for her so now she’s happy. But still disoriented. Change is scary, you guys. What’s a clean house? Omg! But never fear, Henry just replaced all the nice holiday shit on the dining room table with his greeting card-making tools so things are starting to go back to normal. Calm down, cats. Breathe.

Dec 202019

Guys, sometimes I don’t feel exactly inspired to workout. Maybe I’m tired from a mentally taxing day at work or maybe my body is just like “Yo please give us a break, lady” because I’ve overdone it with HIIT workouts that week. But I still want to do something!

Usually I’ll start searching for niche themed-workouts that tend to be ridiculous so I’m getting a great core workout just from laughing! Lately, even though I don’t particularly like Xmas music, I’ve been doing random holiday-themed workouts on YouTube and not only is it helping me keep my weight in check during this Christmas cookie flurry, it’s also kind of making me get in the mood for Christmas!

This will always be a special time for me when it comes to exercise, because it was 4 years ago that I found KpopX on Christmas Eve and, well, two trips to Korea and several smaller dress sizes later, I guess you could say it pretty much changed my life!

I’m going to be including full-length workouts as well as quick one-song aerobics routines because these ones are good when you’ve been working from home and need to just get up and stretch for 5 minutes! Evert little bit of movement you can wedge into your day really makes a difference, you guys. ‘Tis I, Erin Rachelle Kelly, the Ambassador of Ambulation. Oh, you just wait until I have my sash made.



Maybe you’re just getting back into a workout routine after an injury or have a bad back (like Henry), then might I suggest this titillating chair workout from your boy, my boy, our boy: PAUL EUGENE?!

This one is also good if you don’t like Christmas music, but want to look at someone doing chair jacks in front of a Christmas themed green screen?

2. Vietnamese Christmas Dance Party!

I’m doing this one as soon as I finish this blog post! Whenever it says “all level” I’m like, “OK I might not get hurt.”

3. Give Me Five Thailand: Red & Green Edition

I LOVE THIS GUY SO MUCH. He primarily does cardio dance routines to kpop jams, but when this one came out a few days ago, I was like, “Well, I guess I like Mariah Carey now. Let’s get it.”

4. Christmas Walkin’!

So, everything about this channel seems like something that I should be completely adverse to. But for some reason, I REALLY LIKE THIS LADY. Enough that I’ll even tolerate Christmas tunes for her. And maybe I even smile a little. I dunno, I just think she seems like a nice lady, OK?! And sometimes I need a break from walking in place to murder shows or suffering through Leslie Sansone’s Janice-from-Friends- esque bray.

5. Blessercise

Because Jesus is the Reason for the Season!

I sent this to my team at work and they were like, “WHAT. WHY. HOW DO YOU FIND THESE THINGS.” But I think at least two of them went home and tried it.


Well, I hope you tried at least one of these. Let me know if you did, and also, feel free to share your favorite YouTube workouts! I’m always looking for new shit. MERRY CARDIOMAS!

Dec 182019

Technically, it’s still 12/18 in the US, which means it’s already been 2 years since the world lost Kim Jonghyun. It still feels very surreal and raw when I think about it, and it’s hard to explain how the death of a person you didn’t really know “in real life” could have such an impact on you, but the loss of Jonghyun really hurts even to this day. I guess it’s relatable to an extent, knowing that he was drowning in such sadness. And also the fact that he was a brilliant artist—it hurts. Knowing that SHINee will never fully be 5 again is so depressing.

I look at this framed picture of Jonghyun every day. It’s hanging in my room and his face reminds me to keep going, to smile through the sad times, but also to ask for help when I need it.

I wore one of my Jonghyun pins today in his honor and let it slide when people jokingly made fun of my love for Kpop idols. I tried to be nice and pleasant to everyone even though I was crying on the inside.

Well, I’m going to force my cats to cuddle with me and while I cry, and they’re certain to reject me so look out Henry, here I come.

Dec 132019

Guys, today is probably the last day to order cards if you want them in time for Xmas. I say probably because I don’t work for the USPS but I use them a lot and know how UNPREDICTABLE they can be. For instance, a few weeks ago, someone bought $100 worth of cards from me. We shipped them PRIORITY MAIN in a sturdy box. A few days later, the customer contacted me because the tracking number said they had been delivered at her door, when they definitely had not been.

I was freaking out about this, but then the next day, she reached out to tell me that they had been delivered to the wrong house and had person was honest and kind enough to bring them to her! And by wrong house I mean that it was the same house number, but DIFFERENT STREETS AND ZIP CODES.


Anyway, I could make an entire series bitching about the USPS but I’m trying to be a better person.

On that note, here is a selection of serial killer holiday cards, ha ha.


  1. Jeffrey Dahmer

What better way to sprinkle friends, family, and enemies with holiday cheer than by tucking a card from my Serial Killer Series into their garland-wrapped mailbox?

The mug of Milwaukee’s beloved is sure to slap a smile on faces, especially when accompanied by such a heart-warming holiday poem. Envelope included!

2. HH Holmes

HH Holmes was a real nefarious fellow, and is considered to be America’s first serial killer. He would lure victims into his murder castle, which was full of mazes, stretching racks, and gas chambers. But damn if he doesn’t look dapper on the front of a Christmas card.

This card would be great for anesthesiologists, people who write fanfic about the Chicago World Fair, or anyone you know who uses the term “Holmes” as a synonym for “friend.”

It comes with an envelope, which you can lace with fruit cake if you want. I won’t tell.

3. Carl Panzram

When Carl Panzram was 14, he was gang-raped by a group of hobos. He then grew up to murder 21 people and sodomize 1000s of men. Hell hath no fury like a man violated by hobos.
Give this card to your favorite person to let them know that this is not the future you want for them. It’s a really sweet card when you think about it!

This card comes with an envelope, which you can either use to mail the card in or light it on fire a la Mr. Panzram, who also dabbled in arson.

4. Ed Gein

The inside says: “Come trim a tree with me!”

(Sorry, I didn’t feel like getting a picture of the inside. I’m L-Z.)

Santa, snowmen, baby Jesus in a manger? Holiday cards are played out. This season, revive the spirit of your favorite serial killer by having these cards stuffed (like a dead hooker in a dumpster) in the mailslots of those you care about.

5. Aileen Wuornos

Need a date to your office holiday party and have no idea how you’re going to ask that vagabond who’s been popping a squat behind the hardware shop for the last 4 months, drinking dog urine out of an old tin can of baked beans?

Might you consider utilizing the wily charm of Aileen Wuornos to do the deed for you.

Or maybe you’re looking to spread holiday cheer to that whore at the DMV who made you look like a triple-chinned stroke victim who lost a battle with electricity in your last drivers license photo.

Measures approx. 5X7″; comes with an envelope – we keep it classy over here.

6. Killer Group!

Ho ho ho, the gang’s all here for this merry holiday card, sure to delight even your most heathen-iest of friends. Etsy: where you can find a goddamn greeting card for just about everyone.

This card boasts the avuncular mug of Gary Ridgeway, David Berkowitz’s bashful smile, the cute & cuddly Jeffrey Dahmer, BTK’s friendly smirk, and Ted Bundy’s aw-shucks face. Perfect for the true crime aficionado, Satan worshiper, or that good little Christian you just can’t help effing with.

Comes with an envelope. Pentagram not included.

7. Typhoid Mary

Mmm, Christmas cookies abound in the office! Next time you deep throat a Lady Lock, ask yourself, “Did Mary from the mail room Purell her shit before rolling out the dough?” Your bowels will answer that more honestly than Mary. Send this card to your loved ones to let them know that obviously you want them to have a great holiday, but you also sincerely hope they don’t get food poisoning tied with a bow.

Mary didn’t mean to kill all those people, you guys. She just made a fucking killer secret sauce. I bet her Christmas cookies were the shit.

Comes with an envelope that I handled with clean hands, but I totally won’t be offended if you seal it with masking tape instead of your own saliva.



8. BTK

When you already have a shit ton of plastic zip ties, why not put them to good use?

This totally festive card comes with an envelope, which also could fit a floppy disk full of evidence, if needed.


All of these and more can be found at non compos cards!

Dec 102019

Just wanted to share one of my favorite Twice performances in case anyone out there has had a bad day and is looking for an easy smile.

Everyone giggling at Sana’s monologue at the end melts my heart every damn time.

This is a tough season for a lot of people so let’s be nice, guys. Yes, even to your uncle who voted for Trump (assuming that’s his worst attribute. If he’s a puppy-kicker or whatever, then fuck that knob). But most importantly, be nicer to yourselves too. I’m trying to be nicer, too. I guess that’s why I’m so tired.

Dec 092019

Every several years, I get bitten by the decorating bug. I’ve NEVER been a big Xmas bitch, but sometimes it’s nice to dull the pain of winter by stringing up strands of blinking lights, so that’s what we (lol, I mean Henry) have been doing. I’ll never be that broad who spends a pretty penny on yuletide decor, but we had to go to Joann for fabric for a non-Xmas related project, and I saw some bows that were on sale, so that is how Henry spent a large portion of Sunday hanging lights and bows on my Robert Smith self portrait wall which is my least favorite wall of the living room because it’s so unfinished and the idea I have for it is a large one so Henry is dragging his dumb feet.

Anyway, I told him he could take a break around 6 to make dinner.

I’ve had that Merry Christmas sign for probably 10 years now and it’s so janky but I keep pulling it out of the Christmas decoration bin year after year.

If you think I’d take down the BIGBANG bottles for Christmas, you’d be dead wrong.

We need to buy another box of white lights, but it’s OK so far.

Drew’s like, “We’ll see how long this lasts.”

At Joann, I got all these dumb pompom things on sticks, and other Christmas sundry on sticks, for like $1 on sale so I put my special bottles to use. Japan and Korea are representin’ on the mantle. <3

And these worthless things are on the coffee table. The bottles on the ends are actually vintage embalming fluid bottles so that’s a fun twist.

This was right after I yelled at her for eating the decorations UGH CATS.

J/K I fucking love cats.

While Henry was decorating yesterday, I decided to play my “top 2016 songs” on Spotify, which was all emo/post-hardcore/Phil Collins. I was crying within minutes and then got super introspective, depressed, and then ultra despondent to the point where Henry was yelling, “OK PUT KPOP BACK ON.”

Yeah, I miss some of those bands but I don’t miss that Erin at all. It’s actually amazing I made it out of 2016 not to be jinjja dramatic but that year was SHIT.

I’m glad I’m still here, 3 years later, to see another twinkling Trudy and to yell at my cats for gnawing on Christmas shit like it’s made by Fancy Feast.

Thanks, Kpop. <3

Wow. That took a turn.

Dec 032019

I am very pleased to say that our Thanksgiving was very nice. We actually quit making a big deal about it several years ago because who wants to be stressed and depressed?! Now we go into it with very laid back non-plans and now it usually ends up exceeding expectations!

Even Penelope had a nice day cuddling with Doll!

Our day started off with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I liveblogged for absolutely no reason aside from the fact that I was bored and needed to keep myself entertained while waiting fro NCT127’s performance. Then my mom texted me and, to my surprise, said that she changed her mind and would accept our invitation to come over if the offer was still on the table! I had asked her a few days prior to come over because I hate the thought of her being alone in her house on a holiday and even though we weren’t having a real “dinner,” I still thought it would be better that she came here and chilled with us and by that I mean we held her hostage on the couch and made her watch kpop videos and our Thanksgiving tradition of WATCHING RANDOM PEOPLE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE!

This was the ONLY bad part of the whole day: while Chooch was searching for our favorite birthday party video, the one that started our obsession, we realized that IT WAS GONE. The YouTube channel was TheMommyAndGracieShow, a mom and daughter doll-unboxing duo who are SO FUCKING ANNOYING and purposely do that “derp” voice thing which is NOT FUNNY OR CUTE. Anyway, we accidentally found dumb Gracie’s…11th? birthday party video several years ago, which incited so many inside jokes between Chooch and me, to the point where I even printed and framed a still from that video. But then recently, Gracie decided she didn’t want to be a part of Mommy’s dumb unboxing videos anymore, and I guess MOMMY TOOK DOWN A BUNCH OF VIDEOS THAT GRACIE WAS IN, INCLUDING THE BIRTHDAY PARTY ONE?!

“She was probably getting bullied at school for her lame ass videos and fucking weird mom,” I said and Henry the White Knight shouted THAT’S NOT NICE from his serial killer Christmas card-making jail cell in the dining room.

Anyway, we found some other birthday party videos to watch and my mom was just like, “The fuck is this.” Welcome to our traditions!

For the dinner portion of the night, Chooch and I had these glorious #ThanksLiving vegan premade dinner sets made with love and care by our favorite local veg establishment: The Zenith.

Chooch is picky and didn’t like the butternut squash soup, but I certainly did.

Henry’s only plan for himself was to make a pizza, so that is what my mom also got to eat, because we are such great holiday hosts. She seemed OK with it!

Conveniently, she had just given me this pretty Asian-style platter that was from my Pappap’s house, so Chooch was very excited to use it for our dinner. Turns out it made the pizza look way more classy and less like it came from the freezer section. (I tried a piece that didn’t have meat on it the next day and that pizza actually was pretty good – it was Detroit-style whatever that means.)

(Yes, from Detroit, I realize that. Thanks pizza’splainers – I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE.)

We had some makgeolli left from our quick trip to Fairfax, VA a few weeks ago. My mom didn’t want any at first because she doesn’t trust anything about me but then she finally said FINE JUST A DROP and admitted that IT WAS PRETTY GOOD.

Makgeolli is the greatest. If you’ve never had it, I highly recommend running out to the nearest Asian market (preferably a Korean one) and seeing if you can snag a bottle. If you live near an H-Mart and don’t have like 9 bottles of the banana variant in your fridge right now, we can’t be friends because if I lived near an H-Mart, I’d have 9 bottles in my fridge AND a mini-fridge in my bedroom just for makgeolli nightcaps.

Anyway, makgeolli is a Korean rice wine — not really comparable to sake though. This is more…milky? Cloudy? Also fun fact about me, I can spell “makgeolli” in Korean with zero effort but I almost always misspell it when I’m typing it out in English.


The best part of the dinner was the pumpkin pound cake that came with it. Oh good lord, I was stuffed after shoving this down my fat American gullet.

Chooch also really loved the cake, not sure if you can tell by his “died and gone to dessert heaven” pose up there.

My friend Wendy gave me a DUTCH HAVEN shoo fly pie last week, so Henry and my mom we’re also able to have Thanksgiving dessert.

We REALLY went all out this year lol. It’s amazing that Henry actually brought out the decent plates and not the ones that have been microwaved a million times, have accidental stove burner indentations in them, and gouges from years of having food cut on them.

Chooch and I took my mom home around 8 that night and passed a really bad accident. Someone was slumped over in a car, and it looked like another person in very critical condition was being put into an ambulance. It was chilling and extremely sad to see; you never want to see something like that on any regular day but when it’s a holiday, it’s just so much more heartbreaking.

“I think I might have just seen my first dead body,” Chooch said quietly. So, that was a really stark and somber reminder to appreciate the people who matter most to you and not get all hysteric over dumb things like I did the next day when I thought we weren’t going to be able to go on our Thanksgiving Weekend road trip because sometimes Spoiled Solipsistic Erin forgets how to be grateful, there, I said it. Ugh I’m the worst.

I made Henry take this picture of Chooch and me before I changed into my workout clothes and proceeded to spend the rest of the night exercising my fat face off.

The end.

Dec 012019

Blasting “Jackie Blue” while in the Ozarks can be crossed off my bucket list now (I only just added that to the list last night lol).

Anyway, this is apparently a “scenic overlook” and then afterward I screamed when I realized I’m wearing BLUE while listening to Jackie BLUE in the OZARKS.

It doesn’t take much.

This one time, years ago, I mentioned at work that I liked that song and BARB was shocked that I knew it but I have always listened to old ass music especially when growing up. Then, some time later, I had a birthday party at the roller rink and “Jackie Blue” started playing exactly at the moment Barb walked in and we pretty much died.

Found a better overlook, btw lol.

Nov 302019

Our Thanksgiving roadtrip to Branson, Missouri has started out pretty clunky. First of all, we almost didn’t go. We were initially going to leave Friday evening after Henry came home from work, but he ended up HURTING HIS BACK that morning at work, bad enough that he actually admitted it – usually he just swallows pain and conveniently manages to not mention injuries whereas I’m broadcasting mine all over social media and shouting it from the hilltops.

I mean, I was compassionate for.000006 seconds before diving into my self-centered whine-fest and sobbing, “So we’re not going now???!!” Finally though, he came home and said, “Look—let me lay down with the heating pad, drink this bottle of Ibuprofen*, rest, and we’ll just leave early in the morning.”

*(Did you know I can’t say this word out loud in real life?)

So that’s the truncated version of how I got my way and now we’re en route to Branson after having to turn around two miles from home because Irresponsible Son didn’t bring a coat.

We’re not going to Florida, sonny boy.

I was so mad at him! I hate wasting time! I mean, who really likes it?!

Chooch, I guess.

Then we stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts so Chooch and I could get Beyond Sausage breakfast sandwiches even though he doesn’t deserve to eat after the hassle he caused this morning.

Thank god for more and more fast food places providing veg options.

Henry just looked at me and, with a Sheetz muffin in his mouth, asked, “ARE YOU LIVE BLOGGING?”

It’s 7:28am and we are finally in West Virginia. We’re not going to get to Branson until 6:50pm tonight but obviously much later than that because Henry will have to stop a million times because of his back ugh. I offered to push him out of the car when we stopped at Sheetz but he declined. Ok struggle, then.

I’ve asked him so many times if we’re going to see the St Louis Arch thing that he doesn’t even respond anymore.

We’re somewhere near Columbus, OH and just left a Pilot where I tried to get Chooch to buy winter accessories because I always worry that he’s not going to be warm enough which is one of the few signs that I am, in fact, a mom. But then Tightwad Henry gruffly said, “WE ARE GOING TO STOP LOTS MORE TIMES WE CAN GET THAT STUFF LATER” so now poor Chooch go to school in his flashy truck stop accoutrements.

We’ve only been on the road for three hours. Thank god for this 2nd generation Kpop playlist that has zero BTS in it (no offense BTS but your fans have been poppin’ off even more hatefully lately).

I put on the new EXO and Henry turned the volume up super loud like OK Kpop dad.

Fucking Henry sneezed so LOUDLY a few minutes ago that I almost had a heart attack and the sound-memory is still ringing in my ears. Ew now he’s blowing his nose in Dunkin Donut napkins and we are STILL in Ohio – this is truly the car ride from hell.

Henry told me that some Sheetz back home has purple lighting in the bathroom so that the heroin addicts can’t find their veins oh lord please help me because all of my veins are twinging now at the thought of that, ugh.

11:38am, Spiceland, IN: We just stopped at Mr. Fuel to pee and refuel (ie I needed coffee) but it was weird there and I felt uncomfortable. The color scheme was black red and yellow like an ugly pair of boys roller skates from 1978. There were three old men in suspenders sitting at a table, talking about war stuff probably, and they looked at me weird. I didn’t appreciate it.

Next to it was some school bus garage and Chooch started blabbering on and on about how we should buy a school bus and turn it into an RV and then a minute later I was screaming, “YOU HASHTAGGED MAKEAWISH?? DELETE THAT!”

Ugh that kid.

12:26 and we’re here now, awaiting our vegetarian fare (we’ll not Henry. He got chicken.)

We’re in Indianapolis btw. In a strip mall.

You guys, this food was fantastic! I went with the house veggie burger which came with this tangy, spicy sauce on a ciabatta bun, and cassava fries. Chooch got the Beyond Burger and regular fries, and Henry got a chicken burger with cole slaw (I can’t believe I missed out on that photo op FUCKKKK) and potato salad which was FANTASTICO!!

I asked Henry if he liked his and he said, “IT’S JUST CHICKEN” and then INHALED HALF OF IT IN ONE SOLID BITE. Chooch and I lost it in tandem, like laughing to the point of tears, and Henry was like JUST STOP.

My second favorite of lunch was when Henry was walking back to our table but looking off to the side and didn’t notice that there was an old man standing there until he almost walked into him. He stopped right at the last minute so they were face to face, looking at each other, and then Henry mumbled, “Excuse me” and side-stepped him. It was SO AWKWARD. I LOVED IT.

HENRY STORY TIME: we just passed a billboard for BOOT CITY and he blurted out, “I had a pair of cowboy boots once. When I was in the service. I wore them once and they hurt so I never wore them again….”


“No….I don’t know why I bought them. Actually, I don’t think I ever even wore them out of the house.” Now he has this faraway gleam in his eye, thinking about his SERVICE days.

Hello, I’m back in action after driving for the last two hours while Henry slept. Nothing too exciting happened except for when I thought I was getting pulled over for doing 15 over the speed limit but apparently the State Police were more concerned with chasing down a felon. Oh, and the time went back so it’s only 3:42 and we should be passing through St Louis soon.

Just crossed the Mississippi River for the first time ever and now we’re in Missouri!

We still have 3.5 hours left to go though.

I just made the mistake of saying out loud that this drive hasn’t really been that bad and the look Henry shot at me could have castrated a herd of cattle. I keep forgetting about his back which is actually hard to do considering how often he flinched, winces, groans, rolls himself out of the car like a Weeble at every rest stop. But I guess I’m just really talented at not caring about his problems lol.

Ew one of the traffic signs said:

Mash potatoes

Not your head

Buckle up


6:55pm pit stop to the URANUS FUDGE FACTORY.

Because the best fudge COMES FROM URANUS.

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There were three kitties living there and we got to pet one!!!

Highlight of the day so far.

Also, the employees shout WELCOME TO URANUS every time someone walks in and it was quite lovely.

They also sold this gross Trump candy though. “Is Missouri Republican?” Chooch yelled and all the people in flannels and trucker caps side-eyed us.

I just freaked out because the moon is suddenly really low and Chooch said, “Yeah I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re on a hill now.” Also–8:29 and we’re still not there but we’re getting close judging by the giant tourist trap billboards that are stationed all over both sides of the road.

9:08pm: WE’RE HERE. I already forget the name of the hotel but they gave us oatmeal raisin cookies when we checked in and now Chooch and I are going to the fitness center.

10:03pm: Chooch and I exercised for 25 minutes while Henry went to the store to get Chooch gloves for tomorrow because Chooch packed for the beach, not the Ozark Mountains in December. Anyway, I asked him if he also got a heating pad for his crooked back like he said he was going to and he went, “AW SHIT.” So, that’s a no.

Then he sneezed and murdered our ears. I swear his sneezes are like military-grade aural assault weapons. And then he yelled at Chooch, “And we are NOT watching this* all night!!”


I brought up some tourist guide from the lobby to see how to get to the Ozarks but it’s just all dinner shows and mini golf, and ads for places like TOOL TOWN USA where you “make unusual discoveries.” No addresses for Ozark Mountain!!

Henry claims he doesn’t need a brochure and that he can “figure it out” himself.

Well, it’s giddy time so ANNYEONG SUCKAS.

Nov 282019

I never care about the dumb Macy’s parade but I’m watching it today for NCT127 and when it was just announced that the balloons will fly, I TEARED UP?!?! My emotions are like gremlins running amok. I have no idea what they’re going to do anymore.

Well, I guess I’m live-blogging this because Chooch is watching it with me now and #FUTUREMEMORIES or whatever.

9:08am: Chooch has groaned in the Key of Teenager at my hyperbolic parade-outbursts at least 15 times so far and it only just started 8 minutes ago, and 3 of those minutes was just the announcement of what’s to come. #ThanksgivingBytheNumbers

9:25am: “‘I GOT MY OWN INFECTION!!!’ Ugh that song sucked but I can’t stop singing it!” – Chooch, Celine Dion’s parade performance.

“Are you saying INFECTION?” I asked.

“Yes,” Chooch said.

“It’s IMPERFECTION, you idiot!” I laughed.

“Oh. Well ‘infection’ sounds better.”


And then he said “wait—” and resang it as “infectSHAWN” and said “There, that sounds more like her now.”

What you missed before this was me ranting for a solid 3 minutes about how Barbra Streisand is better than Celine and she can take that fucking Titanic song and shove it up her ass and then we speculated why Celine was holding her stomach and my theory was that she was trying to keep her colostomy bag from slipping out of her dress but Chooch said maybe it was her breast implants leaking?!?


9:35am: remember when Al Roker fat? God I can’t stand him.

This Hades thing is boring so we’re both looking at our phones now.


9:41am: When does Al Roker fall off the Roker Cycle? Please tell me that’s scheduled into this dumb parade.

9:44am: OMG Chooch doesn’t know who Tina Turner is. What a Dumb. But he just went on record saying that this lady who emulating Tina Turner sings better than actual Celine Dion, and I agree. Fuck off, Celine. Go home and practice your weird speech impediments on a chunk of stinky French cheese.

9:49am: Ellen commercial incited a riot in my brain and I shouted, “Oh and fuck you too Ellen. Fake ass bitch.” Pause. Chooch giggles. Pause. I giggle too. Then we just flat out start laughing like drunk bastard hyenas. Oh, Thanksgiving!

9:53am: Wow. There’s um…such diversity among the Rockettes. Whatever. I used this time to jog in place.


10:08am: Wait, country singers look like hipsters now? I’ve been so out of the loop with American things.

10:13am: Choochs favorite float so far is the NY Life / Kelly Rowland one. “All the black singers are so much better,” he said, thank you for the most obvious statement of the year. But then we started making fun of the robots surrounding the float so don’t worry—we haven’t lightened up.

10:20am: If I wore the padded outfit Ciara was wearing, I wouldn’t be able to get out of my front door.

10:27am: all these marching bands are boring. Unless someone is going to mess up, I don’t care. Oh shit that was a band from Pittsburgh. “Yeah that’s the school where the kid stabbed someone,” Henry said, interjecting himself into our parade narrative 90 minutes after it started. HE IS NOT EVEN IN THE SAME ROOM AS US.

10:34am: Wow the Ronald McDonald balloon GOT A TEAR mid-route. You just can’t predict what will happen next at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Truly.


Haechan looked so sweet, I thought I was going to die.

10:43am: Why hasn’t Henry been invited to join the 610 Stompers?! Holy shit.

10:44am: Gushing about how Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth was THE SHIT when I was in 5th grade. “There was even Electric Youth perfume,” I said apparently too passionately because Henry started snickering from the peanut gallery, aka the dining room table where he’s making serial killer Christmas cards, happy holidays.

10:48am: I wish Billy Porter was my dad. Also, his float is the best, as it should be.

10:53am: there is still an hour left. I already saw NCT. Can I stick it out? Ugh, this is painful.

I love them! Jungwoo wasn’t there because he’s resting and that’s Henry’s bias so he was pretty bummed lol.

10:56am: the kids dancing in this Universal Kids performance thing all look like they just got done shooting a United Colours of Benetton ad and I just realized that i never hear about that brand anymore and I used to HATE it when I was in middle school! We had one of their stores at the mall and my aunt was always trying to get me to wear their clothes but I was fat and it never looked cool on me.

I also had braces and a really bad perm which definitely didn’t help perpetuate the aesthetic Benetton was aiming for.

11:03am: TLC! Chooch said, “I thought you hated them?” And I did a dramatic gasp with a hand on my chest. “Oh, is it just the song No Scrubs you hate?” he asked and was really perplexed when I said no. “I swear you hated something about scrubs…” and then we came to the conclusion that it was the TV show Scrubs that I hated.

I was telling Chooch about how Lisa Left Eye López died and he countered with a history lesson about Richie Valens and Buddy Holly. I…had no idea he knew about them. Now he’s singing “La Bamba.” “I like that song,” he said as he left the house and now I just realized I’m the only one still sitting here watching this dying horse of a parade.

11:09am: I dislike country singers and Christmas songs so you would think I would hate this current performance but it turns out that “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” is one of the few Xmas songs I genuinely like and this dude’s voice isn’t too twangy and he’s sans cowboy hat so this is tolerable.


11:20am: Apparently Henry snuck (yeah I know “sneaked” but snuck sounds so much better!) off to Blake’s house next door I guess because there was too much parading for him.


Anyway, NCT’s 90 second performance is already on YouTube:

I’ll just watch this over and over while Lea Michele’s performance is happening. She is so fucking annoying.

11:39am: another fucking marching band.

11:48am: I have suffered through so much. Marching bands. Broadway performances. Al Roker. Hoda. Commercials. Celine Dion and her infection. A ripped Ronald McDonald. I don’t think I can continue to the end. I can’t imagine that the finale will actually be that grand.

11:55am: this “man with the bag” performance is making me uncomfortable bc I’m not thinking about Santa, but a serial killer with a burlap sack wide enough to fit the forth of my dead body.

11:57am: Santa is overrated. This finale was flat. I’m out. Happy ThanksLIVING everyone (that’s what all of us cool veg-people are saying this year according to social media).