Drove all the way to Wayne, Michigan today to hang up my bathroom plaque at Warriors 3.
OK fine – and to hang out with the shop’s proprietors!
Be back later. Peace out, girl scout!
(PS Bill just said Pink Floyd sucks and my left eyeball shot out from the sheer idiocy of that statement.)
Do you hate when you only make it halfway through your shift at the soup kitchen before your eyeshadow gets all cracked and creased, and suddenly all the homeless people are mistaking you for that hooker who just washed up under the pier? Tired that you can’t even get busted after a full day’s work of running the meth lab without your mug shot looking like Tammy Faye Bakker, a month into decomposition?
Thank god Andrea from My Pretty Zombie has developed her own line of eyeshadow in an array of vibrant pigments which stay fresh even on the eyelids of broads who are ridden hard and put away wet.
For $5, you can select a pot of loose shadow, gently infused with flecks of princess-like glitter to beat the school marm right the hell out of you. And a little goes a long way with these pots because the pigmentation is so opulent that it doesn’t take much more than one good swipe to get that smoky, opaque look you saw on last week’s Gossip Girl.
Pictured above is my favorite – Bride, which is a translucent white with a subtle green shimmer. It’s almost holographic, perfect if you’re Jem or one of the Holograms, or just aspire to be. Not that I would know anything about that. Bride provides the whole “less is more” sentimentality, like on your wedding night when you slip into bed wearing nothing but a strap-on, inspiring your new husband to tear up the scroll of all the sex moves he learned on Urban Dictionary.
Less is more.
Pictured above is one quick smudge of Roxie. (I didn’t even use a mirror, and I’m already half-blind, but needed a fast picture for the purpose of this review.) Roxie is my #2. I love it because pink is my favorite eyeshadow shade (actually, it’s yellow, but I ran out of my yellow My Pretty Zombie sample; don’t tell Roxie) but I can never find a good shade. It’s either too light or too garish, like Aunt Mary’s potpourri scented La-Z-Boy. But Roxie is just what I’ve been looking for. It stayed on all day at Warped Tour! Well, until I went into the bathroom and tried to drown myself in the sink for heat relief. And just as it’s perfect for screamo shows, a lighter application makes it suitable for work at The Law Firm too. I’m guessing it’s OK because no one has asked the going price for my blow jobs.
My Pretty Zombie eye shadow is perfect for transvestites too! Here, Henry is wearing Mitzi on the lid closer to us, and Madison on the other. I think all the grit and man-grime permanently puttied in Henry’s skin makes the two shades look more similar than they really are. Because they’re not similar. Mitzi is that really hot shade of gunmetal you wish you had on your lids when you go to the local lost and found in search of your missing revolver and people start asking you annoying questions. Like, what color is it.
Andrea was even ingenious enough to embed bullets into Mitzi, so you can kill people in traffic just by blinking.
I didn’t use an applicator for the sake of this photo, just my fingertip, which made Henry howl in pain. “Jesus Christ, you’re pushing my eyeball in!” he cried. Shit, Henry. You already look like a bitch, stop acting like one too.
“You’re the worst woman,” he muttered when he inspected himself in the mirror. “You got it all down here under my eye, too!” he yelled, tidying up his makeover for the camera.
My Pretty Zombie is good for all eyelids. Goths, moms, school girls, trannies, hookers, zombies (some of them actually give a shit about their appearance, thanks to goddamn society), gym teacher trying to break stereotypes, Japanese game show host: this is some versatile shit. I should know – I change identities every day. It’s for my job. I can’t really talk about it.
If I didn’t truly like this stuff, I wouldn’t have written about it. I’d have told Andrea that I lost my eyelids when I was deployed to the Netherlands to fight in the war against cheese graters.
So go try some for your own damn eye lids.
(Ed.Note: I’m unsure why ‘Henry Wearing a Tutu’ isn’t being suggested as a related post?)
Not gonna lie, didn’t think I was going to make it this time around. Not so much the exhaustion, but lack of inspiration. It was really rough there for a few hours in the beginning, where I felt like a panic attack was ready to shoot from cannon and envelope me in a bubble of harried hair-pulling and paper-bag breathing. Somewhere in the early evening, I hit my stride and it was pretty OK after that. I didn’t cry at all, except for when Alisha was talking about Steel Magnolias, which is on right now, and oh Shelby, why’d you go ahead and get yourself pregnant, child?
Thanks to you guys (fine, and Alisha), I stayed awake, blogged a bunch of crap, and raised $456 for the Oil Spill Relief Fund! That makes me happy! Does that make you happy? It should. We did this together. I would hold your hand in mine if you were here right now. And you. And you and you and you, too.
Now, I’m going to try and get some sleep. If past Blogathons have taught me anything, I probably won’t be sleeping for long. I’m hoping that when I wake up, Henry will finally decide he wants to celebrate my birthday.
Anyway, if you like what you saw here and hate oil spills, or hate what you saw here but still hate oil spills, donations are still being accepted. I think until August 6th or something? That’s something I should know. But I don’t.
Thanks you guys! <3
I just spent an hour fucking with the camcorder after PERFECTING THE DOUGGIE. I mean, it was amazing how thug I was, how much SWAGGER I HAD. I even had on Henry’s jeans and shirt and a BANDANNA AROUND MY MOUTH and Alisha’s BIG SUNGLASSES and a hat.
“You look like a dyke,” Alisha said.
It took a good fifteen tries before Alisha (“Did I do it good this time, boss? Durr de durr”) finally mastered the camcorder and by that time I was SWEATING. And my neighbors were pulling into the driveway and stopped to gawk through my open front door.
But I was FEELING IT. I’m all about the Douggie now.
TOO BAD IT DIDN’T RECORD AND I JUST QUIT OK, I QUIT.
And every little thing is setting me off. I freaked out and ranted to Alisha about how I hate contrary people and I’m ready to snap. But then Evonne showed up with a green tea frappucino thing from Starbucks and Zombie Squad marshmallow hand sanitizer, whatever that is, so I’m OK now. I’m good.
Although, the flesh on my shoulders hurt because when I was doing the “fly” part of the Douggie, I kept pinching myself.
Perhaps I will try it again later.
Bayernhof Music Museum, Part 1
“We’re going to be so late!” I cried to Andrea, after she had purposely tried to sleep through our appointment at the Bayernhof Music Museum last week. She was against this part of the Pittsburgh itinerary from the get-go, especially after I had Wendy call and make us a tour appointment when we were hanging [...]
I’m not a crafter at all. Give me craft supplies and the end result will be nothing short of a horrific eyesore, with a trail of blood and tears in its wake. But when Brandy gave me her Santa Voodoo doll tutorial to post on my blog, I was inspired to make one myself, but [...]
Field Trip Fuckarow, Symphony Edition: Part 1
It’s really tempting for me to type this whole thing as a CAPSLOCK extravaganza, but I am going to try to write like an adult. (Well, my version of “adult,” anyway. The XXX kind.) “So then stop chaperoning these field trips if it sucks so bad, dumb ass.” Right, that’s what you’re thinking isn’t it? [...]
The Goddamn Field Trip, v.2.0 (feat. a brief Henry J. Robbins interview!)
All you really need to know about me before jumping into this is that I hate doing shit with kids, so for the sake of my fingertips, let’s just pretend for a minute that there are already four paragraphs written in my usual long-windedly verbose style illustrating my hate for the pumpkin patch/kids/being around kids/riding school buses/moms/being a mom. [...]
(These are the companion photos to this post, which I wrote while still in Gatlinburg. I miss Gatlinburg. Also, I have not been able to go back and check out all my horrendous typos borne from a writing-derelict like myself using a PHONE to blog.) In the AM: It was all downhill from here. (Except [...]
When I launch a new obsession, I of course want to share this with my work friends. For example, the Wacky Worm. I was hoping it would become a wide-spread sensation, culminating in a department field trip to DelGrosso’s, which is a semi-local amusement that has A PERMANENT WACKY WORM, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. [...]
Many years ago, when I was friends with that crazy lady Cinn, she was dead set on making her own absinthe. “I found a place on the Internet where we can buy wormwood!” she squealed. She said “we” when she meant “you” because I was the one with mommy’s American Express. I was nineteen, extremely [...]
I wasn’t looking for love at Soul Skate. It was hotter than Snookie’s kooka in that joint and really all I was focused on was not melting into a flesh-puddle while rollin’ to Justin Timberlake’s “Summer Love,” which I never realized just how truly anthemic that song really is until I had quads laced to [...]
Henry’s Worst Idea To Date: Homemade Lollipops
Get fucked. All the pre-school kids get to bring in treats on their birthday. Since there was no school on Monday, Chooch is bringing shit in tomorrow. I thought perhaps Henry could bake some cupcakes; Chooch suggested cookies. But Henry went off on his own and decided to make chocolate lollipops. He bought three different [...]
A few months ago, someone was trying to get my work friend Kaitlin to buy a lamb-shaped cake pan that they didn’t need anymore. Included in the email he sent to her was a picture of what the finished product could conceivably look like, so she sent it to Barb and me because it was so [...]
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