i miss you guys. hard. i’m ass-deep in a web project at work and coincidentally have been dealing with some major personal shit outside of work, too. so i haven’t been able to creep around your places as much as i’d like. and i haven’t been able to even think about posting. i promise to be back before too long.

as if you care. well i care, damnit!

so i’m going to leave you with a quickie to hold you over. here are some random thoughts:

i did the networked blogs thingy, so won’t you follow me? see it’s just there at the right, below my awesome avi. i don’t have too many followers so it’s pretty sorry looking. i’m not above begging when it comes to the way things look. i’m a superficial bitch like that.

i vote for an arts and crafts period at work. arts and crafts time shouldn’t stop with grade school, summer camp, elderly homes, and mental institutions. it would be great for brainstorming and meetings. at parties. at bars (but not on a bed). at BBQs. there should be an arts and crafts app where you can invite others to join you.

speaking of a cool thing to invite others to do. check out this new social media site, story bird. it’s collaborative story telling, motherfuckers! i can’t wait to play with this thing once i come up for air. and if you play with it, you better invite me! yes, i’m an overly sensitive teenage girl sometimes. ok most of the time.

that “under pressure” song by bowie and queen still knocks my socks off everytime i hear it. it’s so explosive, climatic, and triumphant. when i hear it i just want to spring into the air and do a ballerina’s grand jete.

you could even yell "puissance!" with this move

lastly, “he not busy being born is busy dying.” ~bob dylan

i want to dance with thom yorke in this video.

some of you may think he looks spastic kinda like joe cocker’s LSD-enhanced dancing at woodstock. but we all can’t have michael jackson moves within us just ready to pop. i think it would be really rad if i could do my version of black swan (the one i do in my head) around him.

are you seeing it? it would be an epic production.

it’s where i go when i need to avoid reality and rev up the super spunky rock star image i have of myself.

so my newest online obsession has been creating user cards on someecards. you might remember my valentines day post showing you some of my creations. that week i dominated on someecards’ most popular user cards page. that was all thanks to you, punkers, for going over there and voting for my shit.

 mwuah!!!

well, this pissed off a certain diva of the user cards and he came over here to leave me several hate comments. (i only published one of them and deleted the rest.) then the more popular i became, the more his pencil dick began to throb.  he started voting 1 star on my cards to bring down their rating and writing cards about me for everyone on someecards to see. here’s one:

user card by "rondo434"

apparently this douche canoe doesn’t get how social media works. maybe he should use the easy buttons below his cards to share his madness on facebook, twitter, stumbleupon, etc.

he has several identities on the site, presumably so he can vote for his cards multiple times. here are a few other cards i found about me under different user names:

user card by "smug.pig"

user card by "calderasfarm"

user card by "jumbotron"

then my hater created an identity based on mine: pattypuker. puker! that’s fucking awesome! here’s a card by pattypuker:

i would never wear a bob

when i first saw these attacks, i flagged a couple of them because i thought he behaved like a schoolyard bully who’s priest was making him swallow the jungle humble juice in the back room of the rectory. i mean, i thought he should compete like a good sport. after i had a couple of his cards deleted, he put up this card:

i like my name as a verb!

then it occurred to me: let em rip. maybe he’ll get more people to look at my cards. after all people love a soap opera.

i also thought this is fucking flattering. Of the gadzillions of people creating user cards on someecards, this weasal is threatened by lil ole me. i win!

ps: if you want to rock the vote on my latest card, click on it below.

are they over yet?

them, the holidays. they over?

no, of course not. we of excess and gluttony need one more round of overindulgence and self-destruction. motherfucking awesome.

i’d like to tell you that i’m all resolved, absolved and involved in the new year. but, i’m still looking out at all of you wondering how you have it in you to remain spirited, social, and drug-free.

i always wonder what those of you with faith do when things seem dark and hopeless? i mean isn’t that why you have faith, so things don’t seem all dark and hopeless? at least being an atheist, i’m not pissed at god for feeling low and estranged. one less person to be mad at and blame is kind of a win, don’t ya think? unless of course god is within, so god is me; therefore, i’m just feeling more wrath with myself. that actually sounds about right.

oh i know i should be all ”to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.“

turn, turn, turn.

but i don’t fucking get it. every time should be a time to laugh, embrace, and dance. fuck the times to weep, mourn, break down, hate, lose, etc. are they really necessary? i’m done with those times, just like i’m over the ass sore that is the holidays.

so i wont talk about those times in 2010 that were supposed to provide some kind of ‘leveling,’ ya know to keep us all humble. like the bp oil spill, teabaggers election wins, jessie james’ infidelity, arizona’s anti-immigration law, bristol palin’s psa, prop 8 supporters, bill donahue blaming the gays for pedophilia, etc.

thrash, thrash, thrash.

this ain’t no grammys, no oscars, no disco, no fooling around, this is just the shit i like from 2010 presented in categories i like:

indie album: high violet by the national (it’s my new testament. their album, alligator, is my 13 commandments. hey, i’m very religious — god is within me, remember — so 10 commandments weren’t enough.)

pop song i couldn’t resist: love the way you lie by eminem and rhianna. (shut up, it’s like a punk pop song. ‘sides, bitch got pipes and i totally sound like her when i wail in the car.)

ukele song: http://bugginword.com/2010/09/24/uke-me-away/ (ok, i may be self-absorbed, but i still suffer.)

breaththrough movie: the kids are alright (color me a lezzy cuz i have the hots for annette bening and juliane moore. then again there’s mark ruffalo. so color me bi-curious.)

salacious sex scene in a movie: casey affleck and jessica alba in killer inside me (not for the faint-hearted and really sick to like any part of this ultra violent film. but my dreams don’t lie.)

rocker tshirt: tie between “it’s motherfucking booze time” (check it here) and “i think i brained my damage” (here).

caught on tape: joe biden to president obama on the passage of health care reform, “it’s a big fucking deal” (vp with a dirty mouth = hawt.)

commercial worth watching: tie between the kia hamsters doing the black sheep and kevin bacon talking about kevin bacon. (i don’t know what product this latter one is for, but who doesn’t love kevin bacon crossing his fingers wishing he could turn into kevin bacon.)

actual comedy: modern family (lmao every week. should be on hbo for added irreverence.)

dramedy: nurse jackie (girl likes herself some narcotics. why didn’t i consider nursing?)

real drama: tie between dexter and mad men (serial killer who slays serial killers vs. stylistic ad biz show. that’s a toughie, right?)

useful technology: ipad (internet on the train with a large screen for my over 40 eyes + name jokes = no brainer.)

memorable talk show moment: conan obrien doing freebird on his farewell show. (dude can rock out with his sub-woofer out. and he tickles my funny bone.)

depraved blog: vodka and ground beef (i’d link you to it but for some reason it’s like gone. without notice. wtf!)

intriguing blog commenter: tie between bugginword and dufmanno. (both make me feel like i’m swirling in some kind of an imaginarium. that’s a good thing, btw.)

awesome gift giver: three way tie between subwow, wicked shawn and a vapid blonde. (i retire my tiara to these sexy, amazing girls who all blew my mind this year.)

rad nail polish design: fuck u on lindsay lohan’s middle finger (how much do i want to wear this in the corporate conference room!)

book without flowery language: tie between squirrel seeks chipmunk by david sedaris and life by keith richards (each of these artists are iconic and the fiercest in their respective crafts: satirist and rock star.)

and since i’m still wallowing in my suckdom, i’d like to end on bad note. why jimmy choo, why?

uggs aren't pretty to begin with, why bedazzle them?

as some of you know my fun is still on the run. first there’s the back and leg pain which after the MRI and x-rays the ortho thinks may be my sacroiliac joint. the fuck? but to be sure i need to have an SI joint injection under x-ray. not happy punkers.

then there’s the car. on my way to pick up a friend for the freelance whales show at johnny brenda’s in philadelphia last night the fucker overheated. this after it overheated and died two weeks ago and after spending $1200 to have it towed and repaired. it does it again. frickem frackem fucking mother cocksucking. i’m done with i service imports, the shop that “fixed” it.

mr. punker came and got me in the city and drove the smoking vehicle home.

i wasn’t going to go to the show. nerve wracked and spent, i was wallowing in self-pity.

then i said to myself, “self, you only live once. and someday i may not be able to go see live music. and live music nourishes my soul. energizes and inspires me.”

what i love about live music is that it gets in my head and kicks the crap out of all the bullshit heavy negative stuff taking up valuable and limited real estate.

so i put on some rocker clothes, added some black eyeliner, packed up my license and FOP card, grabbed an endocet, hopped in mr punker’s big truck and headed to the show.

and i’m happy i did. it was a fun show and other than this encounter with a doucher standing at the bar next to me, i was able to rock out with my subwoofer out.

me: what happened to my beer?  (seeing half dranken beer in front of doucher) did you take my beer?

doucher: sorry honey i just grabbed the one behind me. (who the fuck says “honey.” this kid is like 20-something.)

(doucher passes me back my beer)

me: hope you don’t have herpes.

doucher: just aids.

(stupid. doucher buys himself a new beer. himself! not me. i get his fucking backwash and now he ponies up the $5 for a sly fox dunkel lager.)

me: oh good a new beer since we’re sharing.

doucher: you can a have a sip. even steven. (even steven? you gotta be fucking kidding me?)

me: yeah that’s ok, how about we just establish some boundaries. you keep your beer over there. and mine will be over here.

doucher: ok honey.

(no he fucking didn’t)

and don’t ya know the little scumbag chuggs his beer down in like two gulps leaving me to hold my beer for the rest of the show.

still all was well with my world. here’s a 30 sec video of the show with pics taken from my iphone. turn up the volume, bitches.

Create your own video slideshowat animoto.com.

yep, bob dylan wrote this song, she belongs to me, where i am she. what, you don’t think so?

Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween give her a trumpet
And for Christmas, buy her a drum.

it’s just three days until my birthday so that’s proof that song was written about me. undeniable proof, bitches.

yes, i grow older, not more mature. i regress in maturity.

i got to thinking a drum wouldn’t be a half bad birthday gift. then dufmanno and i could rage on bongos on the beach with bones in our hair. stewart copeland would run across the sand and jump into place to join us. and bugginword would play me this song on her ukele.

jubilation!

i was born on friday, november 13, the day of the diva. and you thought it was a bad luck day? have i not taught you anything, punkers? well, this year my birthday is on a saturday so that’s still YAHTZEE!

and here are some of the people and moments that have made me happy to be alive. (it’s only 30 seconds long, so indulge me. it’s mandatory during birthday week.)

wicked shawn, you are conspicuously absent from this video which is just wrong. we need to remedy that and then all will be floating skulls and crossbones in my world.

i’ve been on a bender lately punkers. last weekend there was nyc and last thursday a late-night concert with four bands (rogue wave, midlake, peter wolf crier and philadelphia’s own, restorations). then a pretty heavy weaning period this weekend. i realize i need to dial it down a notch. i’ve been partying like lilo. which made me think, i wonder what goes through her mind when she has fallen down the rabbit hole and is all tripped out from the crazy binging.

it was easy to channel lilo in my recent state which felt like something created by oliver stone with freaky angles, hallucinatory sequences, and a vaguely surreal feeling. i shared lindsay’s thoughts on twitter with the hashtag #thingslindsaylohansays. only one fun girl played along. i can always count on wicked shawn when it comes to an ingenious hashtag. she’s the diva of them.

well, it’s sunday, i’m in detox mode and feeling lazy, so here’s a quickie. things i imagine lilo says:

really, a white bra, lindsay? i thought you knew better.

my mug shot is kinda bangin’

they tried to make me go to rehab, i said ‘no, no, no’

my publicist told me the betty ford center is where you go to audition for dancing with the stars.

i thought those were pop rocks, how was i supposed to know it was crack? (wicked shawn’s cameo)

partying like a rock star is for pansies.

i blame the slammer for my being a lezzy come lately.

can i bedazzle my alcohol-detecting ankle bracelet?

feeding the homeless is a good deed because i might be one of them someday.

not bathing is my body’s natural way of masking the smell of alcohol.

sometimes the coke causes the sinus infection. sometimes it clears it up.

i don’t want my mom or dad as my conservator. i choose paris hilton.

what’s a conservator?

i plan to tell the judge this was all research for my role as linda lovelace.

it’s only right that i play her in my next film because her nickname is lilo too.

feel free to play along in the comments . . .

i’ve received another blogger award. this one is called the end of days award and it’s from this dick who knows how to insult a bitch and crack her up all at the same time — with gusto. it’s pretty awesome.

there are no rules for this award. the only thing i have to do is post a short summation of what i would do if  the mayans were right about 12.21.2012.

i can do this. why the hell not. i don’t have anything else to talk about. oh except maybe this blogher10 conference i attended in nyc this weekend. essentially, it just confirmed for me that i don’t have anything to talk about. i obviously don’t take my blog seriously. fuck, i didn’t even have blogger business cards to pass out.

there are so many bloggers out there who are way more talented.  i don’t even know what i’m doing in the blogosphere.

i don’t have an original bone in my body. i’ve never even coined a word/phrase. i don’t mean like sarah palin (aka shakespeare) who coined “refudiate.”  but actual usable terms like fucktard, crapstorm, cock knuckle or lame sauce.

the homeless people on the street have more words than me. and they’re not even degreed in this shit. and they sure as shit don’t do it for a living where they might stand a chance of having the discipline beaten into them.  and i’ll be a monkey’s uncle if they can’t throw an f bomb way more poignantly.

hell, i can’t even monetize my blog properly. i don’t know how to tell a brilliant story and then tie it to the brand’s needs like one famous blogger (who shall remain unnamed). sure, i figured out how to use google ad sense but that brings in about .000000006 cents per day. however, i think after attending the blogher10 conference i have a blockbuster idea for raking in the ad dollars. just you wait and see! i may reveal it in my next post. if you’re lucky.

i did meet these awesome chicks who can blog like nobody’s business. even though i was my shy and typically socially awkard self especially upon meeting people i adore and admire for the first time, i had a blast partying like rock stars with them.

bugginword and absence of alternatives

a vapid blonde, brilliant sulk, bugginword, for the birds blog, me (who cares)

shy girl wishes she could be a fly girl or spy girl, brilliant sulk, dufmanno

who doesn’t like a bad boy? but way more bad ass is the wicked girl. and i got one in my corner. her name is wicked shawn because she is wicked in all the right ways. recently (okay, awhile ago but i’ve been in a time cluster fuck) shawn presented me with this awesome award:

it made me blush and all giddy like a school girl. and who doesn’t like that feeling? no one doesn’t like that feeling, that’s who. so thank you my wicked goddess.

here are the rules:

1. i love polka dots. everything looks good with polka dots. shirts, sweaters, skirts, dresses, bikinis, thongs, scarves, hats … it’s just the happiest fashion detail around.

2. i’m obsessed with hot fries. if i’m going to consume all those calories and fat, and enjoy every second of it, my fries must be hot. cold fries are unacceptable. i will send back the fries even if they’re lukewarm. if you’re thinking i’m high maintenance, you’re right. what’s your point, bitches?

3. a long time ago in a galaxy far far away, i used to have short spiky annie lennox hair. and my grandma would say to me, “trishy trish, why don’t you grow your hair? you don’t look feminine with that short hair.”  i thought i was the bomb-diggety. but turns out grandma was right. when i look back at pictures of me with my punk do, i realized i could mimic annie lennox’s hair but i didn’t have her face. and short hair requires that you give good face.

4. i’ve always wanted to use the phrase ”… can suck my dick!” suck my dick has punch. i like punch. verbal punch, rum punch, punch buggies, punch and judy, punching bags, junk punch. suck my lady bits doesn’t have quite the same ring.

5. i live in nj and i don’t like bon jovi. especially that living on a prayer song. yeah i said it. it’s bubble gum rock. jbj is a better actor than a rocker. now keith richards, he’s a rocker. jbj is, well, cute and cuddly with tight jeans. but keith won’t remember your name and can’t keep his jeans from falling off his heroine-hot ass. after a night of debauchery jbj would say, “we regret the disturbance and apologize to the hotel guests and administration. we intend to provide full restitution for any damages.” keith would say “those bloody pigs can suck my dick.”

6. beignets and chicory coffee from the cafe du monde in new orleans is the perfect breakfast.

7. this song makes me swirl with emotion. it’s melancholy and celebratory all at once. it stirs pathos in me. it’s got crescendo. and it moves me to shout-sing. play it now and play it loud, people!

The Only Living Boy In New York

and if i mentioned music twice in my list of seven, it’s because i fucking love music. for some this is nothing new. for others, this is a bonus list item. and for those who don’t like music, you can suck my dick.

now here are the five bloggers i’m presenting with this award:

1. A Vapid Blonde
2. Absence of Alternatives
3. Annah Banana
4. Midwestern Mamah
5. Dufmanno

so the al and tipper gore breakup is kinda sad. after 40 years of marriage they just grew apart. well it’s not really sad, not like, infidelity, scandal, or abuse would be sad. it’s more like what a drag, they got through all of the really hard stuff like political life and raising children and now they want nothing to do with each other. which is sort of understandable in that we humans live so long, we sort of need to have 9 lives. or else we die inside. like that james joyce story “the dead.” it’s that kind of sad.

anyhussy, the story is al travels a lot and tipper is tired of being just a wife and wants to accomplish something on her own.

don’t do it! i remember you, tipper gore. I remember your last big crusade was to make the music industry place labels on records that contained explicit lyrics so parents would be warned about violent and graphic content contained in music theirs kids were listening to.

does it get anymore uptight? let me remove that stick for you. i mean, christ tipper, you need a box of franzia, some crushed up percocet, and a judas priest soundtrack.

not cool, tipper gore. shoving your family values and fundamentalism on others with warning labels is just asinine. it’s censorship and i don’t like it one iota! let me clue you in on a few things:

some people just have the bad chemicals.your little tipper stickers can’t change that. even if we removed all of the catcher in the rye books, marilyn manson albums, twisted sister music videos, quentin tarantino movies, grand theft auto video games and south park tv shows from the media, violence would still happen. it’s human nature.

explicit lyrics don’t cause people go bad. studies show that teens who commit violent crimes are predisposed to violence and have underlying mental health issues such as depression, low self-esteem or anxiety. in other words, the violent crime would have happened anyway. experts also think that children who engage in risky or antisocial behaviors are drawn to hard, defiant music just because it simply supports their view of the world. not because they want to get all riled up and go kill a dog.

in fact, it’s also been shown that people who are angry to begin with become happier, calmer and more relaxed after listening to music, even if its heavy metal if that’s their preferred kind of music.

so what this is tipper dear is society wanting to make the media the scapegoat for all of its ills. well guess what, violent behavior by mankind existed long before we had any of the media we have today. and it will continue to exist as long as the human race subsists.

hear this: if your child goes bad and you want to blame marilyn manson, then you’re seriously missing the fucking point.

the tipper sticker brings out the punk in me and makes me want to buy this music all the more

i am responsible for raising my child, giving her a moral foundation, caring for her physical and mental health, observing her social behaviors, and helping her should anything go awry. I’d be embarrassed to blame a video game for my child’s behavior. that’s as lame ass an EXCUSE as there ever was. let’s own up people.

then again tipper dipper, your labels pretty much glamorize hard core music and make it more rad. the forbidden fruit syndrome. so maybe you’re much cooler than I thought. but you’ll never be as cool as al. he’s all about clean air and water, climate change and global warming. now that’s something to spend some time on.

i’m pretty sure “important factoid” is an oxymoron. fuck it, the title stays.

here are 10 important factoids about your punker:

1. i dislike the serial comma. the less punctuation, the better. punctuation just slows everything down. and formalizes shit. i write like i talk and the only time i pause is when i go into an absinthe trance. (although the tilda~ might be good punctuation to represent that.)

2. i used to be a catholic, a bartender and a smoker. not all at once. well i did smoke with my bestie in the cemetary while attending catholic grade school. anyhussy, the only one of the three that i miss is smoking. i just pray for one month’s notice before i die, so i can smoke my motherfucking ass off.

3. i always take the biggest, cheesiest slice of pizza. i have no qualms when it comes to my pizza. i’ll cut a bogarting bitch.

4. i don’t think farts, pirates or dane cook are funny. chances are you do but you should know that shit is not universal. and i won’t fake laugh or crack a crooked smile for it either.

5. i stockpile xanax just in case it all becomes too unbearable.  if my daughter dies or i get a horrible disease, i don’t want to live through it. i NEED control in this. sorry for the heavy, but that’s the way my brain works. i consider it forward-thinking and good planning.  also, i think i’m pretty clever outsmarting my doc to write me multiple scrips (i tell him they’re for the pms rage and no doc argues with that) and i get my insurance company to pay for them. you’re welcome.

6. i’m not a lesbian but i like to flirt with girls. especially foxy girls who give good blog like a vapid blonde, buggin word and wicked shawn.

7. i always liked yoko ono. even when everyone else blamed her for breaking up the beatles. not that i was alive then. okay maybe i was but i’m sure it was only for minutes. she makes good art. for realz. and this is one of my favorite songs that john lennon wrote about her.

Oh Yoko!

8. speaking of music, this is my favorite love song of all time.

This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)

9. i may or may not have tried heroin. but i if i had, i would have snorted it because it would have been the 80s and needles–aids… no thanks.  and if i had tried it i would have really liked the euphoria and heroin-sex but not the vomiting all night.

10. i think the jolly rancher should sell bags of the watermelon flavor 0nly.  i don’t care for the grape, cherry or blue rasberry ones. and i hate the sour apple ones. this is a huge miss on the jolly rancher’s part.

what’s an important factoid i should know about you?