Archive for July, 2009
I interrupted my birthday to post a shitload of backlogged tweets
Hi, these are still posted in reverse order. Read from the bottomzzzz.
- Fave food 4 dinner (grilled cheese – I’m 10), Vanilla Pastry cupcakes 4 dessert; now forcing @saucalisha to watch Degrassi. GOOD BDAY.
- http://twitpic.com/c6n00 – MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT FROM HENRY! This is the 1st gift he’s got me in YEARS & its a good one.
- Alisha’s new neighbor has a pool. Let the ingratiating begin.
- Who needs cake when Alisha’s making birthday spaghetti??
- I’ll tell you what makes my heart swell: When Chooch cries “Where’s my zombie Ben Franklin??!!” before leaving the house.
- How I spent my birthday so far: watching my son fall on a sidewalk twice & once down a flight of steps, all before noon.
- Truck from Michigan turned right in front of a handicapped lady crossing the street. Probably one of @daboogmang & @bed_in_revolt‘s friends!
- Judging by the kitchen sink, Henry had a dinner party last night while I was gone. Birthday morning dish-washing, all my dreams come true!
- @NewlinsGhost mr smalls. I swear, looked just like her! Also saw a cross between Emma Nelson & Huckleberry Finn.
- Oh good, I get to enjoy Four Year Strong without ex-bff making me miss 3/4 of their set!
- Apparently SOMEONE doesn’t like my Deeee-Lite dancing. Sometime you just can’t cork the groove.
- What the fuck, Ellie Nash is at this show!???
- Wrote a song called “Get fucked”. The lyrics are “Get fucked” x258, overtop melodic clapping. That will change when I get my tambourine.
- If I was in a band, I wouldn’t make everyone clap during songs. Instead I’d be all “Raise it! Raise the muthafuckin’ roof, whore!”
- Gravemaker is my new favorite band. That’s what up right now over here in P-Burgh. Swellers were sort of boring.
- TESTOSTERONE!!! Feeling murderous! This show is so tight already!
- I want to make friends with the green-panted dude in line in front of us but alisha said NO.
- Henry was made for throwing wrenches in my plans.
- Sadly, I just found an awesome way to break into this place now that she’s moving. FOILED AGAIN.
- Helping Alisha clean out her old apartment. My reward is going to the Set Your Goals show tonight!! TEENAGE SCREAMING!
- Shit that was almost the first time I made it thru the self-checkout line without a manager needing to rescue me.
- In discussing our son, I realized that he doesn’t really have any of Henry’s traits. “Which is why he’s an asshole,” Henry pointed out.
- “Those are two words that do NOT come to mind when I think of you,” Henry said when I referred to myself as endearing & precious. :(:(:(
- http://twitpic.com/bynqk – Yay to the double yay.
- Not even when I ROLL OFF THE SEAT when he turns a corner.
- Henry just said “Make sure none of your scene friends see you.” What? Riding in an Everfresh van isn’t embarrassing AT ALL.
- & ritzy cupcakes. & a golden unicorn horn implant. & a hobo for embalming practice. & a lightning bolt to manipulate as a weapon.
- All I want for my birthday is a new pair of Dravens so I can retire my old pair to the smelly shoe mausoleum. THATS ALL I WANT, HENRY.
- Curtains look so easy to make. Maybe that’s the field I was born to get into. My curtains will be exotic, made from Hawaiian flesh.
- I bet I would make an awesome captain of a ship.
- I wish the “It’s for CHARITY!” guilt trip worked on Henry EVERYDAY.
- One of my Appledale photos is the item of the day over at the EtsyDarkSide Myspace, yay! http://bit.ly/s1pxs via @addthis
- My son just fashioned a gun from his blocks and said “I shoot you like on Degrassi.” Fantastic!
- secretly bang gym teacher in woods, deepthroat bananasplit @ soda shop, wear kneesocks & celibacy ring to sockhop. #todaysagendaifitwere1957
- I’ve been sitting with a giant pot on my head for so long now that it feels like a natural extension of myself.
- Hey. If you want to see something ha-ha-hilarious, come to my house. I think I’m about to weedwack.
- I just washed the dishes while Henry is sleeping on the couch. There MIGHT be something wrong with this picture.
- Come hither, pillow-illow-illow. #blogathon
- Alisha was crying when Jimmy got capped. And even though I’ve seen it before I yelled “FUUUUUCK, right?” #degrassi #blogathon
- http://twitpic.com/bopya – Lucky sonofabitch
- 3 hours & 45 minutes left. All I want to do is get thru this & cuddle w/ Gordon Ramsey. Or the drug dealer next door. Who cares. #blogathon
- Why is Henry fucking with my Blogathon flow!?
- there are 5 mo’fuckers in my crib and not a damn one is helping me. fuck that shit. all i need is my shiraz.
- So Chooch just came home from a day spent with his cousins and Blake just pulled a fingernail out of his hair WTF HAS MY SON BEEN DOING.
- DANCE PARTY!!!
- Had to turn around so no one would make me laugh while I’m huffing from this oxygen can thing.
- Luckily, Henry is here to remind me that what I’m doing isn’t important at all. Thanks Henry! YOU ARE MY ROCK, BOO. #blogathon
- i just tried to inhale flavored air from a can and then almost fell over.
- dear alisha, i dont care about the history of ur typing classes, cant you see i’m trying to blog here?????
- i just raised the roof to my own humming, that’s how deep in it I am.
- Hay look @ the dumb! #5 The Exterminator: My friend Alisha moved here seven years ago from A.. http://bit.ly/NUHVD
- My cat Marcy just gave me A Look, which is a good indication of how things are faring over here. #blogathon
- Blogathon starts in 30 minutes! Support me and @twloha by visiting http://ohhonestlyerin.com! Comment throughout the day! Pledge if you can!
- Somebody bring me a strip club.
- QOTD from Henry: Erin, you’re such an asshole. Grow the fuck up. (Wah.)
- Sitting on bleachers, Degrassi-style. What’s up now, eh? Sore-y you can’t be straddling this wood plank with me.
- Met up with an old high school friend at a carnival & he won Chooch a stuffed fish. A+!
- I’m too wound up for my own good. Henry just yelled at me to stop moving so much/thrashing in the backseat.
- Henry and Alisha are apparently stalking somone, but I’m too busy listening to A Skylit Drive to care.
- And all I could think was “This fuck’s gonna fillet me & the last song I listen to before I die is going to be FUCKING DAUGHTRY. Why?!”
- Huh. Being stalked in a cemetery isn’t quite as fabulous as I presumed it would be.
- Loves the stench of a cemetery on a humid day, like an aromatic bouquet of moss, sod, and death.
- Fuck you, USPS, for stressing me out on Blogathon Eve.
- Chooch wants me to play cars & then admonishes me the whole time for doing it wrong. I was like that once too. Ok fine I still am!!
- You’re right, Hilary Duff: I’m going to start saying “That’s so Henry” in lieu of “that’s so gay.”
- Jay Hogart could give me gonorrhea any day & I’d be alright with it. In fact, I might even beg for it. Infect me, Jay Hogart from Degrassi.
- Chooch peed in the toilet, standing up, & made less of a mess than Henry ever has.
- I’m making “bang bang, bitch” my tagline.
- Chooch just asked me what “last year” means and I actually drooled a bit as I struggled to explain it.
- Henry won’t add any of his old friends on Facebook, presumably because I’ll embarrass him. Smart guy.
- Wish my family knew how cool/weird my kid is.
- I just worked out for half an hour & don’t remember any of it.
- OH SHIT it’s the episode where Jimmy gets capped! #degrassiownsmylife
- And I realize I just set myself up for the “That’s why she likes you, b/c she hasn’t met you!” remarks. Shut up in advance, @saucalisha!
- I’ll never cease to be amazed @ the kindness extended from ppl who have yet to meet me in person. Today, I feel loved. Thank you @alysonc3!
- I was looking at one of the many things I’ve done to make fun of my boyfriend & completely peed my pants from laughing. FUCK.
- Sold a painting to someone at Dischord Records. Pretending it was Ian MacKaye using an alias.
Sprinkles came to my house
Last week, I opened my front door to find a gigantic box from Williams-Sonoma perched at my step. First I panicked, because I knew I hadn’t consciously ordered anything from there and my grandma went through this phase where she was ordering shit from QVC in her sleep and what if that was happening to me now too? All of my family’s best idiosyncrasies, consistently delivered to me on the conveyor belt of heritage.
After hauling it inside, I was overjoyed to find, swimming near the top of the inflatable padding, a card that learned me it was an early birthday present from my friend Alyson. Two boxes were beneath all that, wrapped in pretty pineapple paper. THIS IS THE PART WHERE I LEARNED ALYSON BOUGHT ME TWO CANISTERS OF SPRINKLES CUPCAKE MIX WTF OMG!
(My tutu was still downstairs from the Blogathon bullshit, so I put it to work. It needs to earn its keep somehow.)
Seriously, what a fabulous gift for a cupcake snob the likes of myself. In the enclosed card, she specified that perhaps Henry could bake those fine ass bitches up during Blogathon and I thought, “Why, what a swell idea! Something delicious to feast upon while beating myself stupid in the name of charity, and also – fodder to blog about!”
Henry was gone most of the day last Saturday, partially under the guise of “doing me a favor” by keeping Chooch out of my hair, but I’m sure it was mostly because Henry is scared to be around me during Blogathon. And also because I had a ton of pictures I needed him to pose for and he wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible.
When he WAS home, I hounded him. “What about the cupcakes? How about those cupcakes? It’s cupcake o’clock, you motherfucker, let’s go before I blow up your asshole with a stick of dynamite.” And each time, he would say those words that every child and Erin HATE: “In a little while.”
And then it was midnight and he was standing before me giving me some lame ass excuse about not having any butter in the house and Blake was all, “I’ll go down the street to the gas station—” at which point Henry made a threatening throat-slicing motion.
Perhaps he felt bad that I only slept for 4 hours after being up for 24, and I even weed-wacked that afternoon (can you IMAGINE), because the next day he actually made the vanilla batch without any whining and begging from me.
Of Sprinkles, I will say this:
- The cake part was very MOIST (why do people hate that word? I love it. In fact, I’ve often considered it tattooed inside my lip) and sweet. I think Henry might have baked it too long because he is not as delightful with baked goods as he’d like The Internet to believe (he’s a really great cook though, I can’t deny that), and the edges were a bit crisp.
- Henry does, however, make a bitchin’ frosting. But he wanted to try the recipe that Sprinkles provided, which was very delicious but entirely too sweet for more than a few finger-sweeps while it was still in the mixing bowl. It ended up, in my opinion, being too much once it was sexin’ the cupcake and my teeth screamed a little.
- The signature candy bulls eye toppers they supply have no taste and I really wanted them to spark in my mouth like Necco wafers are supposed to but never did when I tried. I learned that when I was in elementary school, from one of the issues of Weekly Reader. I also learned that if one is unable to brush their teeth, eating a piece of cheese before bed is an adequate substitute. That’s why I always guiltlessly devour cheese before bed, even though I know I’ll be brushing my teeth. That is also why I’m 569 pounds. That is also why sometimes a cube of Monterrey jack dislodges itself from my chin rolls the next day and I think, “Shucks, where’d that come from?”
- My opinion will not be cemented until I try the red velvet canister (because that shit is the best ever, I mean who came up with red velvet? Some poor bitch, that’s who. Some poor serf-bitch who entered a fief-wide contest, vassals ineligible, to win an opportunity to bake the Queen’s pre-beheading cake and THAT is what she came up with over top her kettle with all the rats scurrying around and nipping at her gangrened toes, and immediately she named it after the fabric from which she pretended her burlap nightdress was made, and seeing as it was the only entry that didn’t cause a palace-wide botulism outbreak, she won) and then also visit one of the bakeries in person and even then, my ultimate opinion will be based on whether or not I see Katie Holmes gormandizing one with my own two eyes. I think I will also ask to shadow the bakers because I’m still not entirely convinced that Tom Cruise isn’t using Sprinkles as a front to contaminate the world with batter-planted religious Rufies.
- I will also need to try every flavor they make available to me. And that better be a wide selection, because don’t they know I’ll be slandering the shit out of them if I’m unhappy?
- Please come to Pittsburgh. I have a feeling I might really want to have sex with you if we meet in person.
Henry went to bed before the cupcakes cooled, so I was in charge of the frosting station. Of course, I didn’t wait long enough and then bitched when all the frosting shifted around the head of the cake and then began to run down the sides like a souvenir from sloppy sex. What? I didn’t bash in the left side of it from groping it with my heavy beast-hands! It came like that.
THANK YOU, ALYSON! For remembering my birthday, and being such an awesome friend. <3
10 comments#49 <--- THIS SPELLS OUT THE END, ONLY IN NUMBERS!
You guys you guys you guys we did it! You helped me raise $475.00 for To Write Love On Her Arms.
$475.00. $500.00!!
That’s a huge ass deal and I’m very proud. Thank you to everyone who supported me, whether it was by pledging, keeping me motivated with prompts and fodder, reposting my info, or popping in to leave a comment or five. That really helped me make it through. You guys are awesome!
I guess thank you to Alisha who was here for most of the twenty four hours (hello, she didn’t arrive at my house until AFTER NOON so don’t go thinking she’s some shit ass saint). And thanks to Janna for coming over as usual, and Evonne for bringing treats and and and…and Blake too for watching TV, using up all of my oxygen (that canned shit that Alisha wasted her money on), and being mesmerized by one of Chooch’s blocks for thirty minutes. No I’m kidding, thanks for being here Blake!
Even though you fell asleep for like five hours.
Hey, remember when we were going to rap “Fuck tha Police”? That went well.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror a few minutes ago and honest to Christ I didn’t even recognize myself. And not because being charitable gave me the warm glow of an angel, but because I look like I was raped and left for dead in a dumpster.
Pledging is open for the next 48 hours until Friday, according to Blogathon’s website. If you’ve already pledged, you will receive an email from Blogathon in the next few days telling you what to do next. I know in the past, Blogathon has had problems with getting picked up as spam, so maybe watch for that shit. And if you pledged whatever amounts scored you a painting and/or mix CD, email me your mailing info: butgavincantdance [at] gmail [dot] com.
Hey, I feel like I maybe didn’t swear too much during Blogathon!
Also, my sincerest apologies for all those songs I sang sodomized. Andy Gibb was my personal favorite.
And thank you, The N, for playing Degrassi for nearly Blogathon’s entirety. It helped to hear all those “sorey”s and “aboot”s in the background.
Oh and also, I raised the roof 16 times. It was a slow ass night.
CIAO FOR NOW.
#48 Fuck a Title
For Bill and Jessi: an interpretive excerpt of NWA’s Fuck tha Police, by a Giraffe.
Blake is very excited because I get so angry at the end. I am tired. My neighbors are black. I hope they don’t want to kill me now.
5 comments#47 Snow can suck one
I went through a lot of trouble to get this done for you, Kara and Chris. Using a video camera was the only way I could get a decent audio recording but there was no way I was allowing Alisha to actually film me. Not with the death-glaze coating my face and my hair, slick with stress-grease.
It was exhausting. Alisha said, “Yeah, I imagine mumbling all those words was hard.” But she probably said it much more stupidly than that. I try to re-write her dialogue to make her look smart. I was really excited about the Toronto part (maybe you could tell) because that is where JAY HOGART is from.
OH CAN YOU STAND IT. ONE MORE HOUR.
2 comments#46 exhaustion is diarhhea of the brain -what
It’s not too late to enter your guess for the amount of times I will have raised the roof during Blogathon’s 24-hour period, my homies. The winner gets a painting. The post where you can leave your guess is here.
I will tell you this much: there have been a few times where I have intentionally raised that bitch just to make Alisha get up and walk over to where she’s keeping her tally. I will also tell you that there was one occasion where I was about to get my raise on but at the last minute swerved into a lazy Cabbage Patch. I will also divulge that there was one instance where I raised the roof with my hands AND one leg. And then attempted to walk while doing so.
And then decided I will do that at the next show I attend (OMG hopefully Set Your Goals next week!
) and all the young people will see a seasoned pro performing this incredibly awesome move and it will become the next big thang. Like the Wave, only more epileptic.
So how’s everybody? WELL-RESTED? We are all tired over here. Well, Alisha and myself anyway, seeing as how Blake FELL ASLEEP for like FOUR HOURS! Alisha is so tired that when that last Degrassi episode ended, she muttered, “I probably would have cried if I wasn’t so exhausted.
“
Oh – I just “sang” Informer by Snow in its entirety and only 70 seconds recorded. Fucking fab.
Oh hey, I have time to spellcheck this!
No comments#45 Spice Girls, FML
wannabe – Vote for my rendition!
This is really hard to do when you spent the last half of your life avoiding anything remotely to do with the Spice Girls. Fuck the Spice Girls. Alisha, after I forced her to help me sing it, was like “which one of your asshole friends requested this?” and I couldn’t remember right then because I sick with idiocy and sleep-deprivation. But then I remembered later and said, “ALYSON!” kind of like when Pee Wee realizes Francis stole his bike. (SPOILER ALERT.)
I am about ready to puke, I’m not kidding. I might do just that once I post this.
I’m making Alisha watch the episode of Degrassi where Jimmy gets capped. It was on last week and I DVRd it just for her.
1 comment#44 Henry’s Last Hurrah
Lauren Urban requested a picture of our Henry with a fried egg on his head. He was very grumbly about this one, spewing diatribe about the recession, Obama and wasted food.
“…perfectly good egg….” I heard being mumbled in the kitchen.
Blake smelled it frying and was all, “Yummy, eggies!!” but when he realized there was a good chance he’d be chowing on breakfast fare swaddled in Henry’s black locks, he decided to wait and have a clean one fried up.
He waited until Henry was en route to sleepyland to ask for one.
But don’t worry! The hair-egg was not trashed because Alisha’s dog Bonzi devoured it.
In other news, it is 6:30am now and Alisha were just outside. It’s cold at 6:30am. My leg is shaking very badly and the Degrassi marathon is done-zo.
#43 More Vacation Journal Crap As Chosen By Alisha
To preface: This is from a really shitty vacation I took to shitty Ocracoke back in 2006 with a really shitty woman and her decent husband. We stayed in a little beach house that was smack dab in rapist village. There were no street lights anywhere. It was scary. Even for me and I am a hardcore un-afraid person.
#42 Some KISS Up In Here: For Bonecrusher/Jen!
I was made for loving you – Vote for my rendition!
So for this one, I decided, “I should probably stand up and do some kicks, rock from side to side and punch the air. That will probably make me sound better.” And I thought it really did.
But Alisha said I just sounded like a rapist. :(
And then I had to record it again because I forgot to save it the first time, and Alisha wouldn’t stick around to cheer me on.
Mostly because she was too busy being a hobag, taking pictures of me doing my thang, which just happens to be SANGING. As in, “Hoooo girl, you can SANG!”
7 comments#41 Henry Hangs Half-Assedly
Evonne thought it would be dandier than antidisestablishmentarianism to see Henry hang upside down while doing something nice for me.
I wanted him to do a real headstand. I was willing to help him achieve this.
“Can’t you like do a tri-pod near a wall?
And then I can pull your legs up and you’ll be upside down. Can you even do a tri-pod?”
“Yeah, when I was SEVEN.”
(Bitch, I can still do one now, no need to shout at me.)
So this was his lame effort at hanging upside down and doing something nice for me. Presenting me with a fake black rose that I kept as a souvenir from a haunted house.
Afterward, Henry stayed in that position for an alarmingly long amount of time.
We was startin’ to get worried up in here.
Furthermore, I think antidisestablishmentarianism should be the new mother cuss word. Forget shitfuckcuntassholemotherfuckerhobag. That’s yesteryear’s slur.
2 comments#40 I Just Want To Be Your Everything: For Andrea!!
I just wanna be your everything – Vote for my rendition!
OK I did this one while Alisha and Blake went to the store and it is now clear to me that they make me suck because THIS ONE IS SO MUCH MORE GOODERER.
Andy Gibb really makes me shine. Especially when I can’t remember how to get back down from all those high note thingers. Apparently this is something that works really well to attract felines, because all of mine were circling my feet with raised fur.
I let Blake and Alisha listen to it when they came home and this is what happened:
Alisha: And who wanted you to sing this?
Erin: My friend Andrea.
Alisha: Andrea is no longer my friend.
[After the song ended] Alisha: Wow, Erin. You took it there.
Anyway, all you Erin haters should be in schadenfreude heaven right now, throwing confetti and guzzling champagne because this shit is a bitch and I am crying on the inside.
EDITED TO ADD: After my fourth listen of this, I’m certain I could have a shot at stardom in Muppet Town.
9 comments#39 And now I’m woke
I was feeling pretty drowsy. And then Alisha made some banging noises so that kind of woke me up. And then she sashayed over here and asked me to open her bottle of Diet DrPepper.
I’m thinking, “What is she, some dummy-turkey? Asking the girl whose fingertips are raw and swollen from all the vigorous typing?” But I felt bad because sometimes Alisha is kind of weak and pathetic. So I stood up and twisted the cap off.
And then I became REAL woke when I was showered with a fountain of sticky sugar. Time stood still for a few seconds as we stood with our arms up and faces twisted, Ju-On style.
“I can’t believe you did that!” she yelled at the same time I yelled, “Did you know that was going to happen??”
So it turns out that the crash I heard was her dropping the bottle onto the floor which landed on the plate that Henry’s fried egg was on (FORESHADOWING!). She thought I knew that had happened and was joking when she asked me to open it because she didn’t think I’d be that dumb.
She forgot that I am a re-re.
#38 Henry Makes the House Collapse
Henry, being all aerobic and shit. I can’t even remember who wanted this now because I suck and it is 3:21am and I just finished singing some AAMAZING Andy Gibb.
3 comments#37 My Past Life
From the time I was three, I was enrolled in a rigorous and world renown flamenco college. My specialty quickly became el baile flamenco. I’d perform it every year at the county fairs and people would come as far as ten miles away to see me clicking my castanets and twirling the red ruffles of my skirt. I had many suitors, some of them even had entire sets of teeth.
This horrible thing happened to me right when I was on the verge of making it big. My partner was jealous of me because I overshadowed him every time. It was mostly because he had a cleft palate and people just preferred to look at me instead of him so no one ever even noticed how hefty his junk was in his tight black flamenco pants.
One night, right before we were to dance in front of an audience of Alzheimer patients at a local nursing home, he bludgeoned my knee Nancy Kerrigan-style and I will never forget the thought that coursed through my mind as I landed in a decrepit clump on the floor next to a pile of bedpans:
I MIGHT NEVER GET TO DANCE THE FLAMENCO ON MY WEDDING NIGHT.
Also: I really wish I was watching Degrassi right now.
My dancing coach had heard of a very mysterious witch doctor in Toronto who specialized in these sorts of tragic accidents.
I visited him in his mud hut. He was a five year old deaf boy. His translator said, “Rub this guano upon your bum knee every fifteen minutes for a year. It has magical healing properties that will restore your cartilage and make you feel like natural woman. You must always finish by sniffing the residue from your fingertips.
“
I did this every fifteen minutes for one hour. And then I was like, “Fuck it, I always wanted to be a singer anyway so I’ll just pursue that now instead.
“
1 comment
