I got my hands on some old photo albums yesterday and some of them are filled with photos I’ve never seen before, like these EASTER BUNNY PHOTOS. Clearly, I’ve always had a soft spot for him/her.

I wish the Easter bunny at the local malls still looked like these ones!

GAH I JUST WANT TO HUG ALL THREE OF THESE FLOPPY-EARED FUCKERS!

I love how someone clearly didn’t like what I was wearing in one of these and took me back for a do-over after a wardrobe change.

In other news, I’ve only eaten bread and a sundae from Sarris in the last two days*, and I’m running on about 3 hours of sleep right now.

Ask me difficult questions!

*Lies. I also ate the mini KitKat that Glenn chucked at me earlier this morning. That’s how I know HE CARES.

 
Today was one of the worst days I’ve experienced so far in life, yet somehow there were silver linings throughout. Life is short. Grudges are dumb. Family is forever. 

I’m ready to go back to last weekend now.

I felt #soblessed that we had time for a Dutch Haven visit before the show on Saturday. There is a certain magic to this place, like a butterscotch candy in grandma’s purse.

I have a cold and I’m half-asleep writing this on the couch. Don’t question me.

We were pretty full from our late lunch at Bridgeport Family Restaurant, where all the regulars loafed at the  counter, engrossed in whatever kids talent show that’s hosted by Steve Harvey.

I really can’t stand Steve Harvey and none of those kids had any talent worth writing home about.

Anyway, I was so big high off life (and all that manure in the air) that I was scream-laughing the whole way to Dutch Haven and Henry was not pleased. I just really love road trips, guys. 

Inside Dutch Haven, Chooch acted as though he’s never had shoo-fly pie before and devoured two samples of it before ordering a whole slice all while making foodgasm sound effects. You’d think we kept him locked in the car every other time we swung by the Haven.  

Oh my god, and the whipped cream to shoo-fly ratio is DIVINE, like a holy helmet to protect the molasses-y relic below.

I’m thankful that my beloved shoo-fly is 4 hours away because I don’t ever want the novelty to wear off.

Of course I ate my slice too fast and got really sick. Totally worth it though.

And then Henry gave us $5 so we could buy a horseshoe from some random unattended horseshoe stand outside of Dutch Haven and I got really worried that whatever Amish kid was shilling these wouldn’t know if we paid even though I definitely shoved a $5 bill into the metal cash box and I hope no one actually steals a horse shoe! The stand was right next to the parking lot for Dienner’s, which is a SMORGASBORD RESTAURANT for disgusting pot-bellied TOURISTS UGH. Everyone knows those are the types of people who piss on the honor system!

But seriously, why would you want to buy six of these?

Someone should bake me a shoo-fly pie for my birthday which is JULY 30TH. You have time.

9:24 We’re headed home from Lancaster. I figured I would Liveblog to keep myself busy, but I’m just going to wait to post it until it’s done because my WordPress app hates me. 

Henry was upset because some guy kept staring at him when he and Chooch went to grab some hotel “breakfast.” I figured he was exaggerating because you know how flagrant Henry’s imagination is. But then when we were leaving the hotel after checking out, Henry said “Look there’s that guy who was staring at me” and wouldn’t you know it, that guy’s eyes were GLUED to Henry even as we sat in the car. It was nuts. Then I realized Henry was wearing his Arizona Iced Tea hat so I said, “Maybe he’s staring at your hat and it’s making him thirsty.” Sounds like I cracked that motherfucking case, bitches. 

 
Chooch and I took this picture before we left the room, and Henry titled it “Two Idiots In a Mirror.” OR YOU KNOW, EMAROSE TWINS. But whatever. Use whichever one you want. I don’t care. 

9:48am: Henry’s reminiscing about his paperboy days and I promise you he has told me this story before, verbatim. Delivering newspapers in the 70s must have made a pretty big impact on him. From Newspapers to FAYGO: The Life Of Henry J. Robbins. 

10:35am: If you ever feel like people don’t give a fuck about Easter anymore, just drive through Gettysburg on Easter Sunday. The Easter hats are out in full effect. Also, if you ever want to be embarrassed at Henry’s and my utter lack of historical knowledge, sit in the car with us as we drive through Gettysburg while Chooch bombards us with war questions. At least I knew it wasn’t WORLD WAR 2 though, CHOOCH. 

11:16: At a Sheetz somewhere on Rt. 30. Some older broad was in a bathroom stall talking on the phone and it was really uncomfortable because I just wanted to pee, you know? Then she was out of the stall and blocking the sink when I came out, still on the phone too! So she moved out of the way and after she ended the call, she said to me, “When your daughter starts talking, you don’t stop her” and then we shared a moment of polite laughter so then I felt kind of bad for psychically wishing she eats a bad egg today. Then the Sheetz barista (lol) gave me cold coffee instead of hot so Henry had to go back in and deal with it on behalf since it’s Easter and he didn’t want me to make some young teenage boy cry. Henry the Patron Saint of Sheetz Baristas. 

On the real, I wouldn’t want to make coffee for fucking assholes like me all day long so sorry for psychically wishing you eat too many jellybeans today, barista boy. 

11:26: NOW MY COFFEE IS TOO HOT. 

12:30: We were going to walk to the abandoned turnpike tunnels near Beeezewood because every time we drive past we never have time. But then we realized that it’s apparently an all-day jaunt by foot so we decided we would just do better research (this is a new thing for us—due diligence as opposed to our usual spontaneity/unpreparedness). However now Chooch is in the backseat beating his head off the window because WE NEVER DO ANYTHING FUN. THE ONLY FUN THING WE DID ALL WEEKEND WAS THE CONCERT AND NOTHING ELSE and we were like “hello that was the whole point of the weekend so shut up Mr. S. Poiled Rotten. Now Henry is yelling at him and I’m like “Hahaha better you than me, little boy!”

  
1:04: Just drove through Bedford and Henry pointed out a restaurant that was open but then continued to drive and now we’re out of Bedford so I guess we’re not eating in Bedford.

Meanwhile, I have on a Bled Fest play list and I keep asking Henry if he’s stoked to see each band that comes on and then I hurry up and repeat his response in a mocking manner before he even has a chance to finish because I know exactly what he’s going to say and I can say it better than him. THAT IS HOW GOOD I AM AT IMITATING HIM. 

1:13: UGH we just drove through the area that has all of those sickening windmill things and I was dry heaving. 

“There’s nothing wrong with them!” Henry yelled. 

“WHAT IF YOU FELL OUT OF THE SKY AND LANDED ON ONE?! THESE ARE HAZARDS!” I cried. 

“Why would you be falling out of the sky?” Henry asked in that smug tone. 

Because maybe I’m skydiving that day? I DONT KNOW. Regardless, they’re disgusting. 

“How are they disgusting?” Chooch asked incredulously. 

“Chooch, anything mommy doesn’t like or understand is disgusting,” Henry calmly explained. “Like my breathing.”

GOT THAT RIGHT, POPS.

LOL. “Pops.”

2:19: Just left our beloved Summit Diner in Somerset after Chooch barfed in the bathroom then came back to the table crying and gagging so we made him go outside while we paid because BOY DONT BE PUKING AT THE TABLE. Prior to that, Henry and I had a coleslaw standoff because I always take his picture while he’s eating coleslaw so then I had to let him take a picture of me eating his coleslaw to even the playing field. THAT’S FINE. YOU WIN SOME YOU LOSE SOME. 

 
This one is from yesterday at Bridgeport Family Restaurant. I was laughing so hard about this that I started sobbing in the car. It’s that Amish air that does it to me. I get psychotically giddy. 

WHATEVER at least my double chin miraculously hid itself for this photo. 
 Coleslaw King. 

Coleslaw is probably one of the few things that Henry and I share a mutual love for. Although I’m way more picky about my coleslaw than he is. For instance, I had the worst coleslaw that’s ever touched my tongue last week at Diamond Market but I bet Henry would have liked it. It was so vinegary!!

  
All the waitresses had on bunny ears in case anyone dared forget that today is Easter. 

Now I’m sitting in the car while Henry and Chooch are in Walmart because we didn’t get Chooch an Easter basket since I was too preoccupied with making one for Emarosa (dorky fan girl, party of one for that corner table by the bathroom) so Henry’s letting him pick out some small item of cheap joy I guess. 

Speaking of bathrooms, I had to pee so bad when we got to the diner but the bathroom was occupied so I went back to our table and proceeded to stress out over this and then Henry had to use the men’s room so I told him to check the women’s room while he was back there and he was all YEAH THATS NOT WEIRD. Anyway, I didn’t want to go back and try again because there was a table of people near it and I didn’t want to walk past them again because I’m neurotic and assumed that they were paying attention to my bladder strife. Finally, as Henry was paying the bill, I tried again and as it turns out, there was never anyone in there that whole time because, FUNNY STORY, I was turning the knob the wrong way. 

2:42: They’re back from Walmart. Chooch didn’t see anything he wanted so he got Kleenex and then actually won something out of the claw machine: a Chinese takeout container with stickers inside?!

3:26: Randomly started missing my old pink Converse. “Remember when I lost one but then you found it? It was that one weekend Christina was visiting and I was crying.”

“Ha, which weekend? You were always crying when Christina was visiting.” True story. 

In other news, Chooch is back to calling Henry Pee-Paw. I thought that one was permanently put to rest but apparently on Easter, all kinds of things are resurrected. 

4:40: Just stopped at a Dollar General down the street from our house because we need cat food (for our actual cats, not Easter dinner) and I can’t wait to get inside my house and close my eyes. I got hardly any sleep last night because ADRENALINE and I won’t sleep in the car because I’m afraid that if I fall asleep, Henry will fall asleep. And you know what that means: no more live blogs. Unless there’s a way to Liveblog from the afterlife. And I can’t think of any other way other possessing someone alive, and that just seems like a lot of effort to tell the Internet about which latest body part has sufficiently decomposed. 

I have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m exhausted and we have been listening to The Summer Set for the last hour and that is some fucking sugary pop brainrot. 

ON THAT NOTE I’M HOME NOW BEST WEEKEND EVER!!!

We’ll be spending the day driving home from Lancaster and then watching The Walking Dead. I hope whatever you do today, it’s delightful!

Just don’t eat too many jellybeans. It might seem delightful in the moment, but nope. Don’t do it, my little bunnies.  

 We’re decompressing at the Country Inn in Lancaster, with a little bit of time to kill before the Silverstein/Emarosa show tonight so here is a quickie. 

I try to make the most out of my lunch breaks at work. It’s when I typically churn out the RIP GLENNS and now it’s also when I work on the Law Firm zine which has survived to see a second issue! I tread carefully with these because they’re fun, most everyone seems to enjoy it, and I don’t want to cross any lines that’ll get my DIY printing press shut down. 

In this current issue, I interviewed one of the mail room guys, had a feature on our old co-worker Nina (“Hello From the Other Side” lololol), gave Chris a full-page spread for his mixtape, and concluded with a SPOT THE DIFFERENCES using a picture that Patrick provided—a screenshot from when he was accidentally on the news after walking past a murder investigation! Amber1 was the first one to find all the differences so she got an Easter bunny lipgloss and a tiny succulent as her prize. 

 These things bring me great joy. And also much stress. 
And my #greetingsfromerinslunchbreak project is going well! I think I’ve mailed 12 so far. So much happens when I’m outside on my break!
  
 
LASTLY, I made an Easter picture for our processing group! I didn’t get a chance to make one last year (probably because I was still in a depressed stupor from BARB quitting), but in previous years, I made a Noah’s Ark, a shepherd (Glenn) with his sheep, and a really epic Last Supper. This was the first year I got to include myself! My employee ID photo is from 2010 and my hair was soooooo dark then—I don’t miss that at all. 

I was cracking up so bad at my desk while making this and Glenn just mumbled, “Wow.” But then when I showed him the final product he LAUGHED. 

Oh, small pleasures. 

Leaving work on Friday, I could barely contain myself inside the elevator. My co-worker Mitch was kind of side-eying me so I blurted out: I’M GOING TO SEE CARLY RAE JEPSEN TONIGHT!!!”

Pregnant pause.

“Wow,” Mitch laughed. “Was not expecting that!”

Even though I like a wide array of music, and am constantly dipping in and out of genres and decades, I don’t think it’s a surprise that most people likely associate me with heavier, “screamy” bands. And that’s fine, because I love that stuff. But I’m not one of those music snobs who thimbs her nose Top 40. (Although there are several artists, and I use that title very loosely, who I really honestly can’t stand and truly believe are ruining the face of pop music. COUGHMEGHANTRAINORCOUGH)

I have always unabashedly loved Britney Spears and have supported Lady Gaga from the beginning. I don’t even hate Justin Bieber. ANS I LOVE THAT FUCKING CAKE BY THE OCEAN SONG, OK??

However, pop music doesn’t usually tug on my heartstrings like my main bands do. It’s just something nice to listen to every now and then when I just need something on in the background.

And then came CRJ.

You guys. I wish I could put my finger on what it is about her that turns my heart into a clump of sweet sweet gummi bears.  Particularly her most recent album which I’m sorry to tell you, it is a motherfucking pop masterpiece. It makes me feel like I have roller skaters right the fuck back into my charmed childhood, before everything got shitty, when all that mattered was puffy-painted sweatshirts and side-ponies. She makes me feel pure, unadulterated happiness, and that right there brings real, genuine tears to my eyes.

You can make fun of me all you want. Constantly remind me that you “don’t get it.” Smirk at my excitement. I don’t really give a fuck. She’s not my guilty pleasure, because I feel zero ounces of guilt when I listen to her music. She is my PROUD pleasure.

Interestingly, she has some major crossover appeal with others in my scene. Anytime there is a news post about her on Absolute Punk, the fan-girling is strong. She is a breath of fresh maple-scented air in a pop scene over-saturated with twerking and vulgar schticks and sexually explicit lyrics that you pray your nine-year-old doesn’t understand.

She is wholesome without being lame or cheesy.

She is a goddamn Canadian princess.

And I couldn’t get to Mr. Smalls fast enough!

Chooch and I have had our tickets since the moment they went on sale. I had a feeling it would sell out since Mr. Smalls isn’t very big, and it did.

After feeding us, Henry dropped Chooch and me off down the street so no one would see us getting out of Daddy’s car. We had about 20 minutes to kill before the doors opened, but the line kept growing so even though I was shivering in my too-light jacket, I was glad I didn’t have Henry drive around the block one more time.

Originally, I figured Chooch and I would snag a spot in the back, right where the bar is separated from the main floor, so that GOD FORBID Chooch could sit down on the floor between bands since his limbs are SO WEAK from being A NINE-YEAR-OLD. But then I saw that there was some prime real estate along the front of the stage, but over to the side a bit, so I dragged him over to there and at first he was like, “WHAT WHY” but then he saw that at least he could lean against the stage to take some of the weight off his WEARY BONES.

For fuck’s sake, Chooch.

We made small-talk with the burly security guy who was guarding the emergency exit/staff only door which leads back stage. Apparently, I was the cut-off for that side of the stage, because when some broad came over later and leaned past me to look toward the center of the stage, the guy was like, “You can’t stand there.” She explained that she was trying to see her two daughters that she left alone in front of the stage and he was like, “UNLESS YOU’RE GONNA BE WORKING HERE, MOVE.” Yeah boy!

Before the show even started, Chooch went to the bathroom twice. He’s obsessed with public restrooms. The first time was legit, he honestly had to pee, but the second time was because his gum made him sick and he supposedly went to the bathroom to puke.

Guys, I don’t know how much truth there is to this. Mostly because I tell Henry all the time that I was “SO SICK THAT I PUKED” and 99.99999% of the time, this might be a slight exaggeration.

Fairground Saints started promptly at 7:10. I would have guessed they were from Nashville—two guys, a girl, three acoustic guitars, and an alt-twang sound. They were pleasant-sounding, and the girl had one hell of a fucking voice, but it wasn’t really my thing. Chooch loved them because they covered Justin Bieber and he was so relieved that he had enough battery life left on his phone to get a video of it.

He’s clearly my kid.

The second band was Cardiknox and I definitely liked them a lot more because SYNTH. I love most anything involving synth. And the singer, Chooch’s new lady love, was really entertaining and high energy. She kept singling out one of the guys standing near us and it was adorable.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDYFrooFZhS/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

I thought Chooch for sure would have liked Cardiknox more but he was blinded by his love of Fairground Saints, especially after they not only liked his Instavid, but also went back and liked a picture of his cat, Drew. They have his heart now, probably forever.

Also, Chooch was starting to get super ornery by this point because it was getting more crowded and he claims the guy next to him kept pushing him into the stage but I was standing right there and I swear to god this never happened. That guy and his girlfriend were pretty mindful of the fact that a kid was standing behind them, and the girlfriend even slapped her hand over her mouth when she said “fuck,” and I was just like, “Please, if you knew the words that came out of this child’s mouth, you’d blush.”

Sometime during Cardiknox, two younger girls (they were definitely under 21 based on the Xs on their hands, and at first I thought they were middle-school aged but then I found them on Instagram afterward (NOT INTENTIONALLY! They came up when I was perusing the #gimmielovetour hashtag the next day) so now I guess they might be around 17 or 18…either way, the one girl who was right behind—I guess the security dude made a concession for her–and she was SO FUCKING IDIOTIC. Like, I get it — we’re all excited. We’re all screaming. I was screaming my fucking face off. But her scream was RIDICULOUS. Like one step down from a dog whistle. And right against my skull.

Then she would do these death metal growls and I kept slowly turning around to get a glimpse of her because for a while, I honestly couldn’t figure out exactly what was behind me.

Other than that, though, the show was AMAZE. When CRJ came out, I shed actual tears and started pushing Chooch excitedly. He was really excited too and had his phone out, ready to record her entrance.

She came out and immediately started singing “Run Away With Me” which is one of my favorites and oh, if only she had been performing at a roller rink — that’s the only way the night could have been any better. She sounded amazing, you guys, and she was such a joy to watch that I don’t think my eyes were dry for even a second of that show.

I’ve never really fan-girled over a pop star before, so this was new territory for me. But I was right there with all of the teen girls and gay guys, shrieking and thrusting out my arm in hopes that my fingers could even just slightly graze CRJ, even if it was just the sleeve of her shirt. AT LEAST IT WOULD BE SOMETHING. And also proof that she’s not a holograph.

BAE!

During “Tonight I’m Getting Over You,” I noticed that she had tears streaming down her face, and she continued silently crying for the next two songs. It was extremely intimate and touching so then this made me cry even harder because crying is like yawning for me: if I see someone crying in real life, I will start crying too without being able to stop it. IT’S MY BIGGEST CHARACTER FLAW. Seriously, it’s hard to maintain my misanthropic asshole persona when I’m fucking crying all of the time, ugh.

I’m crying again.

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There were grown men who looked dangerously close to flinging themselves off the balcony in sheer ecstasy during “Call Me Maybe.”

Chooch and I were desperate to get her to touch us! Before the show started, one of the stage guys came over and told the people next to us that they had to move their stuff off the stage. We were like, right on the side, where the stage winged out a little, and he said, “Carly walks out here and I don’t want her to slip.”

So of course we were all like OMG SHE’S GOING TO WALK OVER HERE AND BE STANDING LITERALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF US?!?!

But that guy was a goddamn shit-sucking liar because she never came over that far. She never got any further than the guys who were two heads down from us, we were SO CLOSE yet SO FAR AWAY. But I swear to god there were multiple times when she came over and smiled RIGHT AT me and Chooch. Right at our dumb idiot faces.

I was goo. A pathetic wad of goo.

Meanwhile, Screamy behind me kept death-growling, “I LOVE YOU” which ricocheted off the back of my head, along with her phone which she kept shoving past my face in order to record CRJ’s every last movement. I mean, OK—so was I, but I had my phone at chest level so it wasn’t blocking anyone’s view!

That girl was seriously the only blemish on the whole entire night. Not even Chooch’s supposed “mental breakdown” toward the end of the show managed to put a damper on my spirits. (He was oddly preoccupied with the fact that he had a knot in his shoelace and it wasn’t until he finally untied it on the sidewalk after the show that he was finally able to exhale and go back to being normal. It’s always something with him.)

After the show, we went straight to the merch booth so I could buy a shirt and my record-snob son wanted E.MO.TION on vinyl. I’ve created a monster. It was after 11 by the time we made it outside of Mr. Smalls, and we were originally just going to leave, but then a group of older men started talking to us, asking Chooch if he got his record signed, etc. We said no, and they pointed out that there was a line forming outside of CRJ’s bus, which pretty much ended right where we were standing. It didn’t seem very long, and even though there was no guarantee that she would come out, I told Chooch I would absolutely die if I missed a chance to meet her. He wasn’t very pleased because he was cold and cranky and I like CRJ more than he does (seriously, if this was Christofer Drew’s bus, though…). I think he was also getting pissed that these guys kept talking to us while waiting for their Uber. The one man told us that he had literally flown in just for the show last minute and got there right as she started singing the second song. Then he showed us pictures of his twin grandkids and Chooch was like, “OK WOW GR8 BYE” but I thought these guys were very nice and I appreciated their flamboyance. It was a refreshing change from the usual too cool for school crowd I usually find myself immersed in at shows.

After about 20 minutes, Chooch pointed out that people at the front of the line were taking pictures. I asked the tall guy behind me if Carly was out of her bus and he said, “Yep, she’s up there now” and I started fucking sweating and hyperventilating.

The line moved up quickly and smoothly; everyone was very respectful of her time and space, no one asked for more than they were entitled, and she wasn’t straight-up mobbed. There apparently was already a VIP meet-and-greet before the show, so she totally didn’t have to be available for us, but she still came out and that made me evict a few people from my heart so she could have some cozier real estate.

By the time it was our turn, I was a nervous wreck and thoroughly coated her with my word-vomit.

“OMG I JUST LOVE YOU YOU WERE SO GREAT TONIGHT I CRIED SO MUCH!!!” and she just smiled graciously and said “Thank you” after each of my psycho declarations. Then Chooch very calmly and nonchalantly asked, “Can you sign my record?” like it wasn’t CARLY RAE JEPSEN standing before us all petite and perfect with her little hat on and OMG I WAS STANDING NEXT TO CARLY RAE JEPSEN ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME SHE WAS JUST IN THE LIVE TV PRODUCTION OF GREASE SINGING WITH BOYZ II MEN!??!?!

I really hate having my picture taken but there was no way I was missing this chance, because who knows if it will ever happen again, so I whispered, “Will you take a picture with us…?” and she was all, “Sure!” and I gave my phone to the tall guy behind us and only vaguely remember CRJ draping her arm over my shoulder because I was pretty much experiencing a blinding out-of-body moment and by the time we found Henry and scrambled into the car, my hands were shaking so bad that I almost dropped my phone while trying to show him our picture and he just mumbled, “You’re sad,” but then he was trying not to smile so I think on the inside he was like, “Holy shit my kids met CRJ!”

Not to be That Person, but I really did lose my fucking shit when she sang “Call Me Maybe.” I am overcome with beautiful memories and happy feelings every single time I hear this song. I’m reminded of the Summer Olympics, extreme laughing fits, ROSS’S BLACKBERRY…it’s just pure, unadulterated summer joy. So, try to belittle me for liking a “one hit wonder,” but it won’t work. My love for CRJ is real and I’ll own it forever. No shame, no guilt, no regrets.

It’s really hard to resist the urge to plaster my blog with cat pictures all the livelong day. I think I was doing too good of a job though, because the lady we got the cats from sent me a Facebook message a few weeks ago and was like, “Um, are the kitties still doing well….?”

They really are doing well! My succulents, on the other hand…Panne is on his last leg and they pretty much brutally murdered Agnes. (They’re not like, eating them…just digging them up, knocking them over, having absolutely no REGARD FOR MY GREEN BEAUTIES WHATSOEVER.) I had a full-fledged temper tantrum about this last week while Henry and Chooch JUST SAT THERE DOING NOTHING.

Evonne brought them some Cat Sip over the weekend and they somehow found the will to share with each other.

Penelope is the smaller one, but she’s definitely the instigator. She also loves to bite and it’s so annoying!

This picture sucks because Henry took it on his lame Henry-phone. This is actually the box that Penelope was transported in. Drew was in there first and Penelope pushed her way in because SISTERS.  That look is almost on Penelope’s face. So smug!

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It looks like Drew is the boss, but this just isn’t true. (Sorry, Chooch! Your cat’s kind of dumb.)

This morning, I woke up to what sounded like a dump truck full of cinder blocks crashing into things downstairs. “Don’t wanna know,” I mumbled, and fell back asleep.

Cats, man.

Friends and foes, welcome to the quarterly collection of RIP Glenns. My last RIP Glenn dump was back in September, because I’m a slacker. I try to be diligent with the celebrity deaths, but sometimes some fly under the radar or maybe I just determine that they’re too obscure/plain to deface a Glenn. If there’s someone who you feel I sorely dropped the ball on and are desperate to see a Glenn made in their honor, please let me know and I will do my best!

It seems like there’s at least one big horror icon in every round of RIP Glenns. :(  Marilyn Burns died in 2014 so now Leatherface is chasing her around again in…Heaven? Probably not Heaven. Seriously though, look at how effortlessly Glenn transforms into Leatherface.

I woke up one morning and noticed that one of my friends had posted a video from the 2001 Rolling Rock Town Fair. I thought it was just a random thing, and I commented that  hey!

I was at that show too.  And then right after that, another friend posted on my timeline about the same thing, the time we were at this one particular show, and I was like, “Huh. That’s a weird coincidence…” Then it occurred to me that it was because Stone Temple Pilots had headlined that festival….and Scott Weiland had been reported dead that morning….

…and from there, Lemmy. What a start to 2016.

Learned about Bowie’s death from someone I hate-follow on Instagram. It’s such a dumb habit but the first thing I do every morning after I turn off my alarm is mindlessly open Instagram. My life is so rich.

So many iconic faces of Bowie but I went for Ziggy Stardust. Still seems so unreal!

AND THEN GLENN FREY? My first instinct was not to listen to the Eagles, but his solo jam “You Belong to the City.” I used to make Lisa so mad in high school because I insisted he was saying “boobs” instead of “moves” in one of the lines and Lisa would shout, “MOVES. MOVES!” Lol forever.

I’m listening to it right now, and have a strong urge to watch Miami Vice.

ITS IN YOUR BOOBS

ITS IN YOUR BLOOD

YOURE A MAN OF THE STREET

He seemed like a real dick though, didn’t he?

I love that I didn’t have to do a single thing to Glenn’s plain face and this one is still recognizable.

I had Punky Brewster high tops when I was a kid. Man, she was such a cooler role model than all these gross Miley Cyrus fembots girls idolize nowadays.

Sorry George Gaynes. I really have nothing else to say about you. Thanks for taking  care of Punky…

?

I’m going to be 100% honest here, I thought he was already dead….?! I bet that Mayberry tourist trap we visited over the summer was poppin’ off when this death occurred.

OMG the day Harper Lee died, I had posted a different RIP Glenn because I was trying to get caught up and people were like “WHAT ABOUT HARPER LEE!” and I was like, “FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, GIVE ME A SECOND, FUCK!!!” People are hungry for the RIP Glenns, and I love it.

What a strange thing to be the subject of so many death hoaxes that an actual death watch website is made for you. Much like Don Knotts, when Abe Vigoda legitimately passed away this year, I was like, “Wait….didn’t that happen in the 90s? And then he came back for Good Burger? And then died again?” I’m so confused.

But what I really miss are the “This is your brain on drugs” commercials with the sizzling egg in a frying pan.

Man, this one hurt. I know he had a long and storied career full of brilliant character portrayals, but I gotta be That Guy and go with Snape. What an icon.

Crazy fact about me: I don’t really care about the Beatles one way or another. I don’t hate them, I don’t love them, I won’t turn the station if they come on the radio, but I don’t own any of their albums. I know. I’m a fucking monster.

Man, sorry Angus — he had the worst timing possible for giving up the ghost because it was right smack in the middle of the whole world shutting down in remembrance of David Bowie. And then I forgot to make his RIP Glenn until YESTERDAY. Amber1 said she didn’t know who he was, and I told her that the horror movie Phantasm was really the only thing I knew about him. “He was one of those actors who made a living on the horror convention circuit,” I said.

“Oh, kind of like Andy from Child’s Play,” Amber1 said.

“Yeah—-hey!” I cried, when I realized that she was making light of my BOYFRIEND ANDY FROM CHILD’S PLAY. And then we all laughed.

“I, the great commander, Haza, will run this ship! My friends may know me as Scarlet. They left me behind,” “Haza” announced.

“They locked me in a locker, then Izuqi found me and we fell in love.”

“Anyways, they left me in there and didn’t take care of me,”

“Weirdo,” Garnet whispered.

“Silence! Or I’ll execute you!” Haza threatened.

Aliens gasped.

“Geez!” Garnet added.

“Alright! Take her to the chamber!” Haza screamed.

“Goed, baaws,” the guard answered.

“What!?” Garnet sighed.

“We’ll make it a slow, painful death for talking again!” Haza demanded

*Boom!* A big loud bang exploded outside. Penelope peeked. It was blank. No leaves, no building, no… ANYTHING! A nuke dropped!

“OH… MY… GOD!” Pearl gasped.

“Ons het voorberei!” The guard announced.

“He said “We came prepared”,” Haza translated.

Pearl saw a flyer for Warped Tour and gave it to the guard.

“Wat is hierdie?” He questioned.

*Neigh! Neigh!*

“I’m a Unicorn!” a PINK voice called out.

Pearl looked outside and face-palmed.

“It’s Yuki. She’s being too kawaii!” Pearl looked away.

“Notice me senpai!” Yuki announced.

“Anyways. Execute Garnet!” Haza demanded.

Garnet started to cry. She turned into a psychopath. She kicked the guards in the shin, and ankle. She turned her head at Haza, and plummeted at her.

“Get off of me!” Haza cried.

“Ja afklim van haar!” the guard defended Haza.

“By the way his name is Owadu,” Haza stated.

“Ja!” Owadu nodded.

Pearl looked at her chest, and looked back up. She frowned at Haza. She pulled out a balloon, took a needle, and popped it.

*Bam*!

“What the heck!” Haza judged.

“I want to say a speech,” Pearl stated.

“Go ahead!” Haza welcomed.

“Well…”

“Okay you’re done. Nice speech!” Haza clapped.

“Hey be nice to her she’s your friend!” Amethyst punched her fist.

“She WAS my friend,” Haza stated.

“Can I join the fight?”

As opposed to Sunday, when we ate each others’ bitter words and empty threats because welcome to the cuckoo house!

I mean, anyway.

Pictures of ice cream cones from Millie’s kept popping up in my Instagram feed last week, because they were having a grand opening. I decided that it was imperative we go and get some on Saturday because we’re whores for ice cream and god forbid we’re left in the dust. It turns out that Millie’s is in the old space Oh Yeah! used to be, which is kind of funny since it was only a few weeks ago when Chooch and I did a drive-by and saw that something new was moving in there.

The menu is not very extensive, but it’s all homemade and I heard one of the ladies there telling a customer that they only thing that’s not locally sourced is the almond extract that they use to make their waffle cones. So if you’re into that type of thing, Millie’s is the place for you.

I think that’s great, I guess, but all I really care about is one thing: UNUSUAL FLAVORS. And they definitely had a few. I went with one scoop of fig because figs are my spirit fruit; and also a scoop of the sweet ricotta, which was littered with pistachios and cherries. You guys, it was so dreamy.

Chooch really lived large and got one scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate. Slow down, Chooch. Your palate’s getting a little too mature there.

And Henry got a scoop of the spiced rum banana in a bowl even though I tried to coax him into the orange marmalade poppy seed. NO ONE LISTENS TO ME ANYMORE.

Henry forced me into letting him taste the ricotta and he liked it so much that he had to go up and get a scoop for himself. I was unreasonably irritated about that. I guess because my #FOREVERFAT stigma would never allow me to go up for seconds at an ice cream shop!

UGHHHH!!!!!

Meanwhile, Chooch and I had a huge argument on the way home because I casually mentioned that I thought the little dab of marshmallow at the bottom of the waffle cone was a nice touch, and Chooch spat, “There wasn’t any marshmallow in that cone!” And then Henry was all, “It was probably just ice cream” and I said, “OH OK, DRY AND STICKY ICE CREAM?!” and then it was a big fight by this point.

Later that evening, I found THIS:

I WIN, MOTHERFUCKERS.

I’ll definitely go back to Millie’s (sooner rather than later) but I won’t pretend like I don’t miss the weird vibes and one-way window on the bathroom door of Oh Yeah. It’s going to be hard for any ice cream shop to usurp the empty spot they left in my heart. Ugh, that place may have been sorely mismanaged, but their add-ins were ON POINT. And their interior had way more personality than Millie’s, which is your typical, unoriginal bright-lights and candy-colored stripes.

Click that Weekend Picturepalooza thing down there for some Oh Yeah memories….(BONUS: there are also pictures of Marcy on this old blog post!)

Weekend Picturepalooza

To counteract the afternoon ice cream splurge, Henry made me this delightful plate of color for dinner, featuring his SEXUAL SALAD DRESSING!

Usually Henry ladles me plates of browns and beiges so this was a nice change.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, Chooch got some kind of rare baking bug up his ass and hounded Henry all day to let him bake something. Henry found a recipe for sopapilla cheesecake squares that seemed safe enough for a nine-year-old to follow, and if you didn’t already know this about my child, he LOVES sopapillas. Like, I could probably slide a sopapilla under his door on his birthday and do nothing else, and he would probably be happy.

LOL, OK let’s not  get carried away.

It was actually quite delightful. Henry said that Chooch very competently did most of the baking, and that Henry really only handled the oven part. I’m impressed! I would have quit before Henry had all the ingredients all lined up. One of my friends commented on Facebook about how at least now they know I won’t starve when I’m old and this is a really good part. Stay in the kitchen, son.

In other news, I just did some hip hop tabata workout that I found on YouTube and for the last three minutes I thought there was an alarm going off somewhere in the house but it turns out that’s just the ringing in my ears.

That might be the ice cream alarm.

On Friday, we went to the Mr. Smalls Theatre for Carly Rae Jepsen’s Gimmie Love tour. So First, when we got in line and waited, mommy complained it was freezing. She had a coat on and I had a T-Shirt on, I didn’t complain. When it was finally 7:30, the doors opened and we got to go in.  The first band was Fairground Saints. They played “Love Yourself” by Justin Bieber. They’re kind of country singers. They do covers mostly. But the songs they did at the concert was mostly their songs.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDI6_9HlHJK/?taken-by=butt_jam

My Instagram is butt_jam, if you didn’t already know. You would see this video on my Instagram. It’s a video of them singing “Love Yourself” by JB. I also have many more videos on Instagram.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDI-0jYlHBt/?taken-by=butt_jam

Such as this one: Carly Rae singing “Run Away With Me”. It was epic and could cause seizure, so warning if you are able to get seizures by strobe light don’t watch. 8-) While she was playing, I had many problems, such as: Being claustrophobic was one. This guy behind me had so much room but he chose to push me into the stage, I had about a foot of room. I threw up, because I chewed too much gum. My phone was at 1% and I couldn’t record anything or else my phone would die. There was a knot in my shoe and it bothered me. I hate everything!

At the end of the concert, we went to the merch table and I got a record, mommy got a shirt. We left and outside there was a line at the side of Carly’s tour bus. We waited and waited. During our wait we met a lot of gay guys.  This one guy was so nice he showed mommy a picture of his grandkids. I tried to get the knot out of my shoe and it worked, all of a sudden I felt better.

When Carly came out of her tour bus, nobody screamed. I told mommy she came out, but she said everyone would’ve screamed. But I said people were taking pictures. She said they were probably taking pictures of each other. Then mommy heard Carly’s vice and got excited. We got up to the front and I got my record signed and got a picture. Mommy almost cried and fainted but I was calm. Carly was really nice. Daddy parked righted in front of her tour bus so when we got our picture, we walked to the car and left.

As you can see, I had a lot of fun. The concert was good, Carly has a good voice, and Fairground Saints is very good as well.

Lazy Saturday up in here. Chooch and I went to see Carly Rae Jepsen last night and were out way too late; I don’t know how I was able to sleep last night! Anyway, once I’m done buzzing about that I’ll write some sort of ALL CAPITAL LETTER review, I’m sure.

Then my friend Evonne stopped by with a dozen of FARM FRESH EGGS, a lemon, a lime, and some Cat Sip for the kittens. Thanks, Evonne!

I’m using my blog as a diversion because the Penguins are playing the Flyers and my nerves are shot and I’m trying not to look at the TV for fear of vomiting. So, here are some pictures.
Fucking DREW killed more of my succulents and I have nowhere else to move them! RIP Agnes. Maybe you’ll miraculously grow back.

Perhaps if I hadn’t given my plants names and personalities, it would hurt me less when they’re murdered. :(

 Pre-CRJ dinner date at Grant’s. Henry and I split a piece of their coconut cream pie (THE BEST IN THE WORLD) because I was already feeling sick (butterflies!) but now I wish I could go back in time and just eat the entire pie. Slices are pointless.

Also, I feel blessed that this quality joint is within walking distance of Mr. Small’s.  
This is my favorite building downtown Pittsburgh. Look at the design on that facade! My friend Chris found out for me that this is the BUHL BUILDING and I have to remember to google that sometime soon because once every 11 years, I allow myself to learn a thing about my city.

 POSTCARDS! I think I have mailed 7 so far so check yo’ mailboxes! If you get one, tag it on Instagram: #greetingsfromerinslunchbreak

Lol I have no idea what sort of meaningless movement I’m tying to start here but please just let me my fun. I’ll lose interest soon, I’m sure! 

I found this old picture on Flickr the other day and it made me laugh because Chooch still makes the same expression when I want him to take a picture with me.  

The other succulent killer, Penelope. SHE’S LUCKY SHE’S SO CUTE.

The Penguins are winning 4-1 with a minute left so I think I’m safe to look up now. SEE YA, MY LITTLE CHIA PETS.

Chooch gave me back my blog for a second so here’s a quick post before he takes over again with his STORY THAT HAS NO END IN SIGHT. Just kidding, Chooch. Keep writing, bro. I mean, son.

• HENRY’S SALAD DRESSING: Don’t be gross, this isn’t a euphemism for Henry’s sperm bank donation. Literally, he makes the best dressing for my basic white girl kale that I have ever had. It’s probably best that I don’t know all of the details, but he definitely uses balsamic vinegar, stone ground mustard (the BEST kind of ground, in my opinion), and I think a tiny bit of PURE MAPLE SYRUP which gives it the most subtle sweetness and oh my god, why am I at work right now when I could be at home licking that salad semen off my fingertips, ugh.
• PEOPLE GIVING ME CHEEZITS: I helped Todd with a support-type question today and he gave me the rest of his box of Cheezits as a thank you and my response was a very Shirley Temple-ish, “REALLY? For ME?” I can’t believe I used to hate Cheezits when I was a kid. Maybe they weren’t made with “100% Real Cheese” back then.
  • And then Glenn dropped a pack of fruit snacks on my desk as he was leaving – I FEEL SO RICH.
• PEOPLE BEING NICE TO ME: I went to The Exchange on my lunch break yesterday and all the neo-hipster kids working there were very nice to me, so for a few minutes, I was able to coexist peacefully with those whom I do not understand.
  • Probably only nice to me because aw, look at this old broad coming in here to probably look for Carpenters 8-tracks.
    • Actually, I was there to finally buy the latest CHVRCHES record.
      • On vinyl, not 8-track.
  • Then I went to the Pittsburgh Welcome Center to get postcards and the lady there was nice to me too, and the lucky recipient of my very first GREETINGS FROM ERIN’S LUNCH BREAK post card will get to read all about that.
• A BAND FINALLY ISSUING AN ACCEPTABLE AND APPLAUDABLE STATEMENT REGARDING SEXUAL ASSAULT: Ricky from Foxing came forward and cleared the air regarding an incident that occurred several years ago when he was 17 and nowhere in his statement did he make excuses for himself or victim blame, and the band is donating part of their tour earnings to RAINN and expressed an interest in opening up a healthy and respectful discussion about these issues. This came right on the heels of the singer of Better Off doing the complete opposite and completely letting down the scene and likely ruining his career on top of that.
  • Bled Fest has removed Better Off from the lineup. They were one of the bands I was most looking forward to see but certainly not anymore.
• REALIZING MY PURPOSE IN LIFE: So for years I thought this was either manure packaging or starting my own record label but it is now clear to me that I need to start a DIY venue for the small, real small, small-small bands that book their shows basically in the basements of college rape sheds. So I suggested to Henry that we find a small building to soundproof, just has to be in a not-too-horrible area, and then we can be all, “Hey little sad boy emo bands, fuck that basement noise, come play at our venue, it’ll be ready once we evict the squatters” and then Kaitlin can set up a table of her immaculate desserts and all the kids will be like “OMG AND A BAKE SALE TOO?? THIS IS SO DIY!” Henry actually considered this and said, “We just need money to buy a building” which is basically his way of saying “This will never work because we never have money” BUT he didn’t exactly dismiss my passionate idea either. Then Chooch came downstairs and was all “this sounds dumb.” I tried to get him excited by including him. “You can pass out flyers at school and be all come to this show at my mom’s venue, yo” and Chooch said, “No. It’s my venue.”
• NEW SAOSIN SONG!: For the first time in seven years, Saosin has recorded a new song, and not only that, but Anthony Green is back as their singer! Christina and I loved this band back in the day, and they were my gateway into many years of loving and obsessing over Circa Survive. (Anthony was the original singer of Saosin and left to start Circa Survive in…2004 I think; too lazy to fact check.) This is great because when they reunited in 2014, Anthony mentioned at Riot Fest that they were going to work on new songs, but then it seemed to kind of fizzle out. BUT WHAT DO I KNOW ABOUT WRITING SONGS.

And here’s a quick Law Firm news recap:

–GAYLE moved into a dark hallway so then MEAN AMBER took GAYLE’S old desk which means she’s like really far away from me now so I’ve been pouting about that all week. Now she sits behind Amber¹ so this is super confusing. TWO AMBERS IN A ROW. Currently, they’re back there chatting about BLAKE SHELTON and I’m just like, “Whatever, AMBER² THE BETRAYER. One day you’ll miss our chats about DANCE GAVIN DANCE and JONNY CRAIG.”

–Amber¹ made me tell the infamous Henry at the Ted Nugent Show story on Tuesday, and Todd was like, “Who the hell is Ted Nugent?” so then he started to listen to Cat Scratch Fever and we all had a good laugh. I came home and told Henry and he was just like, “Oh, you told that fake story again? That’s great, Erin.”

–The second issue of the ‘zine was dead in the water for a few weeks (more like OVER A MONTH) but I finally rounded up most of the key pieces I was waiting on so hopefully that will be printed and distributed sometime before the end of the month. This is hard work! And I’ve had some real pressure put on me about it too. Jeez. And then Gayle was giving me all of these suggestions and it was like, you know what Gayle? START YOUR OWN ‘ZINE!

–I sent Todd a video of Citizen playing at Bled Fest and then he started watching other videos and accidentally became obsessed with some hardcore band. Every day, he’s like, “What was the name of that band again?” and I’m like, “I don’t know…” and he’ll say, “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to watch that video again so I can see their name.” Like, what a flimsy excuse!

–Just now, Glenn got all embarrassed and/or furious that I told Michele he likes Meghan Trainor. “Oh yeah, I just love her” he said sarcastically, and I was like, “Then why did you always listen to ‘All About That Bass’?!” and he was like, “ALWAYS. Oh, OK! I ALWAYS listened to it” and I was like, “OMG yes you did, like every day at the same time, Amber2 and I could always hear it! It was like your Getting Ready to Go Home anthem” and he was muttered something about me being crazy and then left for lunch. It’s 100% true though. And now I can’t stop laughing and I just started choking on a Cheezit.

–Lauren sits in front of me now, in Amber the Abandoner’s old desk, and I wonder how annoyed she is having to hear all of my dumb stories being recited sporadically throughout the day.

Oh boy and here’s a bonus photo of me wearing a Bailey’s hat one time way too long ago, in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, even though I don’t CELEBRATE ST. PATRICK’S DAY.

UPDATE!!! Glenn just came back from lunch and I asked him how the weather is on a scale from 1 to Meghan Trainor. His answer was that I’m smoking crack. And then a few minutes later he called me a psycho.  God, today rules!

The lord stared down at his guard and grew with anger and disgusted.

“You will pay you hooman!” he shouted at Yuki.

Penelope hopped around the dead alien, and licked the blood of the ground.

“Ew Penelope!” Garnet and Amethyst whispered.

“Huh? Who’s there?” the lord overheard Garnet and Amethyst whisper.

Garnet and Amethyst zipped their mouths shut as they stared at the lord.

He looked around the building, he couldn’t see them anywhere. Yuki ran off, the lord’s scared of Penelope, and Pearl was taken away.

Pearl got shoved into the U.F.O with a rope tied around her hands.

“Bloop Brz Brlp,” conversations echoed around the U.F.O.

“What is this place?” Pearl thought.

The aliens were stupid because they didn’t lock her up in a cage or cell. She figured out a way to escape. She luckily had a nail file in her bag. She pulled it out, and went over in a closet. She took it and sliced the thin rope off of her wrists. Her father knew martial arts and he taught Pearl a little bit of the moves: Dropkick, that’s it she forgot most of the others. She freed herself from the rope tied around her wrists and climbed up the ladder behind her. She used the only move she knew on a alien guard. The alien guard collapsed. He had a baton in his left sleeve just in case. She took it.

“Why don’t I just escape, these aliens are dumb anyway,” Pearl whispered to her chest.

Garnet was walking up behind the lord and punched him. His skull felt as hard as metal.

Before she could even recover from the cracked knuckle, she was being carried up the ladder.

“Garnet no! Don’t go,” Amethyst cried.

She was being carried up the ladder too the minute she said that. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were trapped in the U.F.O together. Garnet injured, Amethyst scared, and Pearl feeling strong.

*Slam* the door swung open.

“I got an order for you” another “alien?” sounded in.