soa the reason i’ve been absent from the blogosphere is because i was moving into an apartment. and the reason i was moving into an apartment was because i was separating from my husband after 20+ years of marriage, raising a family and building a home together. i’m not going into all of the heavy stuff on my blog out of love and respect for mr. punker.

but i sure as shit am going to talk about all of the superficial consequences this has wrought.  (why oh why do i use nouns like “shit” and verbs like “wrought” in the same goddamn sentence? because i can, punkers, because i can. )

anyhussy, here are some of my first impressions of being on my own in an apartment:

i miss having a hose on my kitchen sink. how are you supposed to fill the water reservoir of your keurig coffeemaker without a hose?

how do you get rid of the food debris in your sink without a garbage disposal? especially when you don’t have a motherfucking hose!

nordstrom’s is really expensive.

how do you know if it’s a cockroach or a beetle? (please tell me cockroaches don’t exist in the burbs.)

raising the lid on a dumpster really skeeves me out.

what did people do before coat closets and innovative storage solutions? (i had to buy a fucking garment rack and send the rest of my babies to goodwill.)

take my advice: one needs at least a two bedroom apartment to have enough space for shoes.

just because the previous owner and his/her cat are gone, the fucking linen closet still smells like cat piss litter box ammonia pungent blechhh something fierce.

gonzo volcanic rock bags really work as an odor eliminator. (paid advertisement welcome.)

i think the girl downstairs leaves a pair of size 13 men’s work boots outside of her door as a deterrent because i’ve never seen a male coming or going from her place. brilliant actually.

the property manager refers to me as sweetie. ”i’ll put in a work ticket for you, sweetie.”  and the maintenance man calls me senora. “toilet paper holder es ok now, senora.”

ulta, bed bath and beyond, and victoria’s secrets coupons have not followed me to my new address. grrrrr.

this was my first housewarming gift from the glitter gang bangers, a vapid blonde, absence of alternatives, wicked shawn, buggin word, duffmano, brilliant sulk, for the birds, and lagunatic.

isn't it the glitteriest, happiest rubber ducky key chain you've ever seen? i think i will name her "bijou." whaddaya think?

and the real kicker …

i have to lay down my franzia box in the fridge. when i want to tap it, i have to pull it out and put it on the counter. wtf whirlpool engineers!  there’s a minimum shelf height for a refrigerator and it should include ample head room for an upright franzia box!

ps: i also want to thank sister merry hellish, the barreness, and buggin word for the posts they wrote/dedicated to me during this trying time. your love means the world to me.

holy guacamole i got a package from a secret admirer this week. inside was the book insulting english by peter novobatzky and ammon shea. the front flap reads:

“at last, a compendium of ingenuously insulting words for every occasion, for everyone who’s been stymied by the level of sloth, bad looks, and low intelligence of his fellow man . . . You can’t change the tiresome creatures around you , but now you can describe them behind their backs with pleasing specificity.”

but that’s it, no greeting, no packing slip, no anything. the return address on the package was:

k. paul
8714 W. Olympic Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90064

i can’t find anything associated with this address on the interwebz. also (and i’m very sorry secret admirer if you are reading this and i assume you are because this gift is rather apropos if you’ve read my blog), this books smells like draino, mothballs and anthrax — all in one. i can’t imagine where this book was stored but something tells me there is a tomahawk and nunchuck collection in the same room.

so i’m not sure if i should be flattered or if you’re trying to poison me and why i keep sniffing the book when clearly i’m inhaling anthrax spores.

i’m pretty sure i should be flattered though because it’s a $17.95 hard cover book (plus UPS shipping). yeah, i looked at the price. like you don’t google the cost of gifts you receive? just like you don’t raid the medicine cabinets of friends and family for unused narcotics? don’t try to punk a punker.

i mean if it’s a really fantastic gift, i won’t spy the price.  like this one from absence of alternatives:

i myself am an exceptional gift giver. it’s on my resume cuz it’s a legit talent. in fact, i should be a professional gift buyer. i pride myself on finding just the right gift for the person and not the right priced gift. so no, you won’t see me out on black friday grabbing flannel pajamas for the people on my list just because it’s the doorbuster. i’d much rather spend the extra money and create a splash.

back to the book. being the giving type, i thought i’d share some of the new words i’ve learned from my book. it’s like the motherfucking gift that keeps giving. (this book made me realize i haven’t been cursing nearly enough in my posts lately. so maybe that was the point of the gift.)

nihilarian  /NAI ih LAIR ee an/ n — a person with a meaningless job.
“having trouble dragging yourself to the office? nihilarian career services can help. we train thousands for exciting careers in such fields as iguana grooming, figurine arranging and electric toothbrush repair.”

scrag  /SKRAG/ n – a lean and bony person
“you can never be too rich or too thin,” the unhappy little scrag said to herself, washing down her guilty feast of half a rice cake and a stalk of celery with a diet protein shake on her way home from ultimate pilates class.”

bedizen /bee DIZ en/ v — to dress in a flashy or vulgar manner.
“most of the time, our aunt martha was a quietly unattractive person. when fully bedizened for a special occasion, however, such as one of her semiannual dates with the local butcher, she transformed in a scarecrow-like monstrosity.”

maybe you could use one of our new words in a sentence. or maybe you can help me identify my secret admirer. or maybe you can tell me the best/worst gift you’ve ever received. just leave me a comment, bitch.

isn’t that a clever title? you know it is.

i’ve been frazzled punkers. just two days to my bahamian vacay and work is in superthrottledeluxe mode so i haven’t had much time to get my social media on. including writing a post. but i did take a picture for y’all.  i’m like the motherfucking giving tree, aren’t i?

people collect shit like stamps, coins, trading cards, star wars action figures, silly bandz, hummels, bunnykins, comics, precious moments, pez dispensers, lunchboxes, tea sets, christmas villages, music boxes, snow globes, ww2 memorabilia, clocks, watches, key chains, advertisements, magazines and salt and pepper shakers.

but i’m a punk so i needed to collect something unconventional. i collect rubber ducks. awesomeness, right? today i’ve brought them out of their natural habitat (the jacuzzi tub in the master bath) and arranged them ever so orderly for your viewing pleasure. does it get anymore benevolent?

click to enlarge. you need to see these BAMFs in their full splendor.

okay so one is a rubber buddha. but how could i resist adding a rubber buddha with coffee and a cellphone to my collection? besides he fits. he’s a budda for christ sake. he fits everywhere cuz he’s all peaceable and pacifisty. poetic license. shutup.

so some i really cherish. like the soccer ball duck (back row left) my daughter, my angel bought for me. she’s a stud goalie so i thought that was tres cute. or the easter egg/bunny/lamb ones (scattered) that i had to hunt for, or the cleopatra one (front row right) that i just got during a trip to the franklin institute in philly to see the cleopatra exhibit, or the chelsea soccer duck (back row center) that mr. punker got me because it’s his favorite team.

what, you think being sappy over rubber ducks is foolish? well, it’s not. it’s cool. and not at all creepy like this:

is it a boy? a girl? a goy? what's with the scary sad eyes?

what do you collect?