The Eve of Black Friday Is Upon Us


As families across the country prepare for the ultimate shopping holiday of the year, we are reminded of all the glorious forms of self-indulgent gratification on which this great nation was built. It took us a while, but eventually we realized that an entire day dedicated to gluttonous eating only left us more hungry for another kind of greedy behavior: competitive shopping! Black Friday combines two of America’s greatest pastimes: frivolous spending and acting like a jerk. We needed a day to slow down with a belly full of turkey and starch so that we could preserve the energy we would later use to get up obscenely early and venture into the wild retail market.

Thanksgiving brings us together so that we can be reminded of how terribly boring family gatherings are. The mundane act of exchanging cordial conversation with people we try to care about just doesn’t offer any real rewards. There’s nothing to take home and photograph so all our friends on social media networks can see, y’know? All it really offers us is the motivation we need to go out the next day and gather up things that bring us real joy: tangible stuff that can’t piss us off the way our dumb relatives do. Thanksgiving is merely the eve of the real holiday, and I assume calendars will proudly display this in the future, because I expect to go H.A.M. on some turkey come Thanksgiving, but I anticipate Black Friday with a deep yearning that no food or beverage can subdue.  I’m counting down to the crowded shopping malls where I can aggressively purchase items I probably don’t need or want or even understand, but I’m not exactly looking forward to hearing about my aunt’s gluten-free diet when I ask her to pass me the mashed potatoes. I require adrenaline boosts and shopper’s highs, not a yearly update on other people’s lives!

Sure, people can act like they are happy to sit down and feast alongside a bunch of people they hardly ever see, but we all know the legitimate feelings of elation are reserved for those amazing Black Friday sales. People are all fine and good, but what Americans are truly grateful for is bargains, not human contact. Sorry grandpa, but your presence will never enhance my downloading speeds the way that wireless router I’m buying tomorrow at 5am will. Some people argue that memories are the pinnacle of importance, and I agree, which is why I’m also snagging some extra RAM while it’s on special. If someone wants to remember a shared experience with me, they can tag along to the toy store and join in when I start dropkicking people over the last Furby. Getting injured and arrested over an animatronic toy is something you won’t soon forget, and encourages people to form bonds while they wait for someone to make bond so they can be bailed out of there.

Black Friday is all about taking advantage of deals, and Thanksgiving is all about researching to find those deals so you can map out your battle plan. It’s time we all stop beating around the cranberry sauce and just call a spade (that’s marked down 70% off retail price) a spade (that I must have and am willing to punch people out of the way to get). The Black Friday bandwagon is America’s favorite vehicle, and Thanksgiving is just passed out in the backseat while we all throw money around until we hate everything about everyone including ourselves. That’s the true holiday spirit, and the highlight of the American dream! Thanksgiving tries to be cool, but until somebody tries to fight me for the last deviled egg, it’s just not exhilarating enough. It’s not like eating is some unique activity; we can get sweet potatoes any day, but scoring a sweet deal on a flat screen television is a special occasion to be marked with celebration! So let’s get this whole family tradition of eating dinner out of the way, because we have some shopping & shoving to do! Tis the season, y’all!

Published in: on November 27, 2014 at 1:45 am  Leave a Comment  
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12 Things All Moms Are Doing Wrong Because They Haven’t Read This List Yet

WARNING: This article is HIGHLY CONTROVERSIAL. It contains a list of 12 FACTS that will SHOCK you & YOUR MAMA! I’ve got exclusive insider information that has never been shared by anyone on the world wide cyber-sphere, UNTIL NOW. Mommy bloggers all over the country have been trying to get access to these top secret things that only I know. I’ve been begged, I’ve been pleaded with, I’ve even had several mothers offer me their first born, JUST TO PICK MY BRAIN! I ain’t no sell-out though, and I certainly don’t negotiate with women! Not just because they’re overly sensitive and wishy-washy, but because they aren’t even allowed to have any of the stuff that I would want, like equal employment opportunities or fair wages or the ability to go out in public without fear of getting sexually assaulted. Just like the physical affections of a young attractive Russian lady, my words cannot be bought. Unless you know someone over at Buzzfeed or something. CUZ I GOT LISTS, GUYS! Here’s a little taste of what could be featured on your own dumb website, for the right amount of US bitcoins.



1) Procreating – The most common mistake that all moms make is having unprotected sex. It seems so simple, but just look at the statistics. When you really think about it, it makes literally all the sense. Where are all these moms coming from?? The ol’ pregnancy bait, it gets them almost every time! Babies begot mamas and vice versa, it’s a story as old as time. The cycle must be broken. Stop holding your lion cubs over cliffs and promising them the kingdom! Start not having sex and being more “too tired” all the time.

2) Unnatural Birth – If you accidentally get coerced by the Devil into doing the reproductive dance with your genitals, then at least do it right. You owe it to your baby to usher it in under excruciatingly uncomfortable circumstances. Take queue from the ladies of olden time, they didn’t have hospitals and medicine and experienced doctors with decades of education, and look how well they managed! Sure, a lot of them died, but at least they weren’t whining about epidurals. Don’t let the risks to your baby’s health outweigh the cardinal risk of bringing shame to your vagina by not manning-up through labor. Don’t allow the birthing experience to impede upon your daily routine, either. Don’t even acknowledge the contractions, be the boss of your body! If a baby is ready to fall out then it should be able to do so with a simple squat on the side of the road. You don’t need no dang doctor to tell you when to tell your body what to do when it is already gonna do what it gonna do. This is simple science. So what if you hemorrhage, at least you don’t gotta be hooked up to monitors and what not. As soon as you chew through the umbilical cord and consume the placenta, your chakras will realign and all your uncontrollable bleeding problems should clear right up. If it doesn’t, then you did something wrong. Try to focus on all the possible mistakes you probably made during pregnancy. Did you drink coffee? Did you play too much Candy Crush? It will all make sense as you drift out of consciousness from blood loss. Maybe next time you’ll plan better and achieve the ultimate natural delivery method: the lotus birth.

3) Breastfeeding – You best get them titties to work, unless you are trying to destroy any chance of your baby growing into a functional member of society. I mean if that’s your thing, then by all means, use the power of thought to will your boobs to stop producing milk. Just remember that it’s all your fault even if you tried. If you decide not to be a monster, make sure you breastfeed constantly but don’t let anyone see it. If you absolutely have to leave the house for some emergency reason (your hired team of nannies all called in sick) then you need to bring a large blanket to cover yourself and your baby so that random people don’t have to feel weird about you doing the thing that is universally recognized as the only right way to feed a baby. Finding balance between the oxymoronic societal expectations of moms is your job now, and should be your #1 concern.

4) Formula feeding – This is a great option for any mother looking to turn their baby into a disgusting mutant. The rule of thumb with formula is to pick the most expensive brand. If you can’t be a good breastfeeding mom, the least you can do is be an elitist formula feeder. This will help instill the ideas of capitalism in your baby, and it raises the chances of your offspring winning the genetically modified lottery and turning into Scarlett Johansson’s character from that Lucy movie.

5) Diapering – Just don’t. There’s no right way to do it. You either destroy the environment with disposables or you destroy your bank account with all the adorable printed cloth options. Wave the white flag of elimination training to counter all judgements from people inconvenienced by the extensive presence of your baby’s urine & feces. They just don’t get it. And neither do you, but that’s our little secret. Appearing confident about all your parenting choices is key to being a good mom. Just because it’s different and weird and difficult and pointless and intrusive to others doesn’t mean it’s not the best method, so don’t falter in your facade of superiority around other moms.

6) Baby wearing – It’s important to not let motherhood take away from your fierce fashion style. Stop thinking of your baby as a living, breathing human you’re responsible for and start looking at it as an accessory. Buy a few dozen different sling wrap things and strap that little uterus diamond on. This will help with the bonding process bc other moms will be all “ooh I love that, where is it from?” Then you can chat about how you grew it inside your womb and it’s called a baby. Women love lusting after things that come from really exclusive places. Solidify this lady bond with regular coffee dates.

7) Baby weaving – The biggest issue babies struggle with is lack of hair. Even if they aren’t totally bald, they still lack the desirable levels of volume and length. Setting your baby up with a good stylist is imperative to combatting the self-image issues facing babies today. Fight the war on beauty standards by being one step ahead of the haters. Don’t let your baby get ridiculed in the nursery, because it’s only a reflection of your poor parenting skills. The shorter the journey from womb to weave, the better.

8) Baby birding – Your little one needs a lot of help, and after 9 months of it transforming your body into a doublewide trailer, so do you. Baby birding kills two birds with one sorta gross stone. Essentially, it’s the tried & true “chew and spit” method that many successful anorexics have employed for centuries. You’re helping your baby receive nutrients from solid foods that they otherwise can’t consume due to their lack of teeth, while simultaneously helping yourself fit back into skinny jeans by quelling those pesky cravings for food! Sure, there are other ways to go about this, but why waste the opportunity to taste delicious things on something that doesn’t even have a tongue, like a stupid blender? If you are serious about dropping that baby weight then you know that eating is out of the question. But chewing is the safe part of eating, and without swallowing, it’s basically like calorie-free eating, which is just as beneficial as not eating at all! So baby birding is a win-win situation for your baby and your body! Just count down to bikini season every time you slowly dribble Cheeto paste into your baby’s mouth.

9) Baby food – If you insist on letting your baby eat food that you haven’t personally tasted and chewed first, then at least bite the Baby Bullet and invest in a fancy extravagant motorized machine to make your own mashed slop for your baby to eat. DO NOT BUY that jarred poison grocery stores try to pedal as baby food. Did you know Gerber is actually owned by a Nazi organization and Beechnut puts anti-freeze in their pureed sweet potatoes? Earth’s Best lists heroin as a main ingredient in their rice cereal and the secret to Ella’s Kitchen is actually her own conjunctivitis discharge. The FDA legally allows her to use the term “organic” on the packaging because eyeballs are considered organs so any substance they produce is technically defined as “organic.”

10) The Mom Zone – The truth about the mom zone is a highly debatable topic. Some believe that once you enter the mom zone, you are stuck there. Others argue that while it’s quite difficult and time-consuming, it is possible for an individual to escape the mom zone and become “more than a mom.” In my experience, which I invite you all to use as definitive proof, the mom zone in and of itself is merely a concept of reality meant to enslave mothers within the confines of their own minds based on patriarchal ideas from outside sources. If a baby wants to hang out with a woman but only as her in the role of care-taker, the woman should embrace that relationship at face value instead of getting all bitter that she was “mom-zoned.”  We, as a society, have to start respecting the agency of babies.

11) Baby-Led Whining – The newest trend in attachment style parenting is called baby-led whining (or BLW as they like to refer to it within the boring chat rooms and mind-numbing message boards devoted to mothers who overly use abbreviated shorthand). This method focuses on a baby’s natural rhythm of irritation and frustration with life. It’s crucial to the development of basic complaining skills and allows babies to form a healthy level of disdain for their surroundings. Once called the “cry it out method,” baby-led whining was initially shunned by the AP community and considered cruel and damaging to the psyche of infants. After the lexicon makeover, however, baby-led whining emerged with its shiny new name and was instantly embraced within the group of moms who previously denounced its benefits. Today, helicopter moms all over the country allow their babies to express themselves with their shrill screams & piercing cries, all in the name of flourishing into exceptionally whiney individuals!

12) Read More Lists – If I’ve made anything clear with this list, I hope that it’s the importance of lists like this. Being the best mom you can be is contingent on how much tripe you read about parenting on the internet. Sometimes it’s better to neglect your children and just keep your eyes buried into the glowing tech device of your choosing. Missing your kid’s milestones and medical appointments is a small price to pay to not miss reading any new information about what parts of parenting you are probably failing at, so just stay here and refresh your tabs for a while! I got lists, y’all.

Published in: on July 26, 2014 at 2:14 pm  Comments (1)  

When boners fail…

I’ve encountered a lot of boners over the years. You know, long ones, even longer ones, super mega long ones, and ones you could anchor a yacht with. My boner list is long (I mean it’s a short list, but entirely composed of big ol’ giant ding-a-lings that make you go “HEYOOOOH!”) enough that I feel like I have comprised the empirical research needed to conduct a qualitative scientific analysis. Haha I said anal! Talkin’ ’bout da backdoor. lol buttsecks! JK JK we aren’t talking about that today.. maybe next time. *WINK WINK*

Let’s get back to the boners. Not all boners are alike. Some are longer or more longer than other long ones. Basically though they’re all the same. Vaginas, now those are some unique snowflakes. Some are mine, and others aren’t. Mostly I’m just familiar with mine, and it is quite an intricate puzzle of skin and secretions. Sure, I’ve seen others.. but mine is the one I care about the most. If you own a vagina, I hope you feel the same way. It’s important to take time to focus on what makes your own bomb go boom. It often takes more than just a boner in the ol’ lady tunnel to really get me there, and I suspect I’m not alone. Ain’t no shame in bringing in some battery powered backup. Whatever gets those inner muscles spasming, girl, go on wit it.

If this is the case with you, I’m sure you know how frustrating it can be. That’s why I’ve come up with my quick list of go-to toys that I use, whether with myself or with whatever dude I’ve currently got handcuffed to my bathroom sink. It helps me, maybe it will help you, too? And if you don’t share this problem… if you’re one of those lucky ladies who can just win in bed every time, just imagine how extra victorious you could be with a little extra somethin-somethin in the form of a magical feel good device! I’m talking double, triple, quadruple times the shiney giney! That puddin cup will be gleaming from here to Nantucket, and even a little northeast of there (Nova Scotia).

The Rabbit Vibrator
You’ve only been hearing about this vibrator since it appeared on Sex in the City back in the late 90’s, but there’s good reason. This is the only vibrator you’ll ever need. It’s magical. It runs on carrots. It twists, turns, speeds up, slows down and covers all your bases. There have been a lot of knock-offs (most of them look like dolphins) made over the years and they work, but the best will always be the original Rabbit. WUTZ UP, DOC?

G-Spot Vibrator
I dig this one because I have the hardest time achieving these babies. Sometimes I’m like, “Whoa is that a baby in my vagina or am I just happy to do me?” They don’t come often (pun totz intended) with myself and never show up for the main event (cock fight), but I can HOLLA AT A G-spot orgasm any day with one of these. Designed specifically to target the greatest one inch section of your body (unless you’re a man, in which case it’s the prostate), this toy makes it easy to find your g-spot and let it loose.

Discrete Vibrators
A discrete vibrator is a vibrator that is designed to look like something else, you know, like a tube of lipstick or toothpaste, a rubber duck, or an old school Nokia cell phone that has serious vibrating power. These come in handy when you’re traveling because TSA won’t know the difference, nor will your suitcase prying little cousins. And it’s also easy to throw into your purse and whip out when ur gettin’ yo freak on & be like “HOLD UP HOMIE, let me get my lipstick out and reapply to my vagina for the remainder of this encounter.” He will be none the wiser. Adam and Eve has a really fun collection of these toys. It’s fun to see how many people you can trick into thinking ur not masturbating when you’re actually totally masturbating. I’m always like “Hey neighbor, guess what I’m doing right now.” She never guesses that I’m getting my clit hard with a discreet vibrator, but that’s pretty much always what I’m doing. Haha GOT YA lady in 4C who always checks her mail in pajamas!

Ben Wa Balls
So I have to admit, I didn’t know what these were until I watched Nia get one lodged inside her on The Real World: Portland. I was very curious. I was even a little scared. But upon discovering their magic, I’m telling you, I go Ben-Wa-Balls-to-the-wall crazy with these vag nuggets! The fun thing is that you can use ben wa balls with yourself or with your man-friend. They have many uses including personal funtime, interpersonal funtime, and feminine fitness. I’ve been using them to work on my kegels for about 2 months, and now I can crush a can inside me!

Sometimes you need a little help, and sometimes you just want it because turning your orifice into a boner Slip N’ Slide is just as awesome as it sounds. It’s also great to pair with your toys, just be sure to get the water-based kind, as silicone based lube can’t be paired with every kind of sex toy or condom and oil-based lube can end in a tragic infection. That ain’t tartar sauce, ladies!

So there you have it. Maybe you’re not like me or maybe you are, doesn’t matter because this list can make everyone’s sex life a little more fun!

Go forth & do the sex things with all these amazing sex enhancing sex things.

Published in: on June 10, 2013 at 3:20 pm  Comments (1)  

How To: America

If you haven’t heard/read about the US bombing that took place in Afghanistan yesterday, here’s a brief synopsis in the form of a conversation I made up to basically explain what happened:

US: We launched a missile but it went the wrong way, we don’t know where it landed LOL WHOOPS               ¯\(°_o)/¯

Afghanistan: A missile killed 30 people attending a wedding here.

US: Oh, really? We shot a missile and it misfired and went somewhere, but we don’t know where, and aren’t trying to figure it out either.

Afghanistan: So this was probably your erroneous missile then?

US: There’s no way to be sure so let’s just move on.

Yup, that’s some fine American detective work, huh? The US is admitting that they did indeed launch a missile that did not go to where they claim to have targeted it, but they have no clue where it did go. When Afghanistan informed them of a missile hitting a village and killing 30 civilians at a wedding ceremony, they said that they cannot be certain if that was their MIA missile or not. Essentially, they are going on record with a, “my bad,” which is pretty much admitting fault, except that they add a rhetorical, “but really, who knows?” at the end to avoid actually taking the blame. It’s a pretty strategic move, if your idea of strategy is derived from the behavior of a 9 year old trying to skirt out of getting in trouble with his mom. It’s like a really drunk law student & a super tired wordsmith collaborated with my niece and decided that “well yeah, but not really,” was a valid explanation for an accident that killed people. I’m not sure you understand what I’m saying here, so I’m going to give you a few more examples of American strategy.

It’s like if I stabbed you in the eye, but when the police came I explained that I was simply waving a knife around haphazardly and only intended to stab the air near and around your face, so if my knife struck your eye, it was an accident, but also I cannot take blame because it could have been something else completely, like maybe another person with super-human lightening speed (possibly Superman but I don’t want to point fingers) came in and stabbed you coincidentally around the same time that I was aggressively whipping my knife around. Then the police agreed that there was no way to be sure of what happened exactly, so I’m free to go. With my knife.

It’s like if I found $20 in your wallet and decided to keep it because I don’t understand how to process logic.

It’s like.. ok ok I’m done. If you don’t get it, I can rifle off more examples. Tweet me (@britanypracchia) for details on how to strategize, American style. 

So then there was also these explosions in Boston at a marathon that took place on the same day as this missile mishap (omg what if that’s where it went? Holy shit, did the US accidentally bomb Boston from a launching point in Afghanistan? It might be possible, but I guess we’ll never know.) The Boston incident is just as tragic (I guess, I mean it only had like 2 casualties & they had 30 but I don’t remember the algorithm for determining if 2 American lives are worth more, less, or the same as 30 Afghani lives so whatever we’ll just call it even since I’m white) and it sucks and it’s terrifying and it’s shaken our precious American sense of security and got our terrorism hysteria all in a tizzy and we are waving our freedom flags maniacally because we think that’s important for one reason or another. Despite all the chaos it has brought us, I think we can all agree that whoever is responsible for those explosions needs to just come forward so we can begin to gain some closure on this tragic event, especially if it was a mistake. Even if it wasn’t a mistake, just act like it was, I mean who’s gonna prove it either way? Investigate an explosion that killed people to figure out the cause? pfffffffttt AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT! Am I right, America?

So whoever did the Boston explosions, if (wink wink) it was an accident, just say “whoops” and we will call it history. If America can oops-out of killing 30 civilians, then surely whoever is responsible for the blunder at the marathon can issue a heart-felt “WHOOPS-A-DOODLEZ” and we can all forgive & forget, right? Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes fatally injure 2 or 30 people, but that doesn’t mean we need to admit the damage caused by the mistake or display an ounce of moral integrity over the death of non-US citizens that was probably totally our fault and we are basically saying so but not directly because accepting blame is not in our agenda.

Remember when I had a baby?

HAHA that was soooo crazy! It was like, I grewed it inside my belly forever, then BOOM I got to spend 13 hours in a hospital trying to poop it out. Anyway, I still totally have that baby. She is actually a child now, and probably an adult in some countries. She’s 18 months old, or 1.5 years, or 93$h846uy20jgo4w8 quadraloops (if you’re familiar with the time lapse continuum structures on Mars). She walks and talks (mostly jibberish) and entertains the shit out of me. She also drives the proverbial shit out of me. It’s a delicate double-edged serrated spiral saw blade type of relationship where sometimes I’m overjoyed by her presence, and sometimes I just want a goddamned moment of peace. I’m a stay-at-home-all-the-fucking-time-and-try-to-entertain-a-toddler mom, and I used to internally chuckle at women who acted like being a mom was sooo hard.. like bitch what the hell is so hard about sitting at home with a kid all day? TRY ROCKET SCIENCE. But man.. it’s true. Being a mom is hard. It’s not technically difficult in the way that doing 20 push-ups every hour is not hard to figure out, but it’s fucking exhausting and mentally draining and after a year of doing it you are still waiting for a break. I lived nearly 26 years having basically no real responsibilities. I’ve never felt attached to anything I’ve done in a way where I feel that I have to do it, like there are literally no other options. I’ve always held jobs that I could easily quit without much concern. If I quit one job, I can always get another. BUT if you quit being a mom, I don’t even know.. just a lot of bad.. wait, what the fuck does happen if I quit? I mean I guess I could make another baby, but I’ve already put so much time into this one. I guess people do quit being moms, but they look like giant selfish assholes, and obviously I am very concerned about people not thinking I’m an asshole. Wait.. I am already a giant asshole. So what am I doing here? What is it that keeps me from quitting?? I guess I like it. OMG don’t tell anyone I said that. My street cred will not survive if I go around saying I like being a mom. There are moments that I don’t like, though. There are moments where I’m like “HOLY HELL WHAT HORRIBLE DECISION HATH I CURSED UPON MY WOMB???” And that’s ok & normal & makes me an even better mom than lying ass bitch moms that act like it’s all cuddles & giggles. Get the hell outta here with your robotic Stepford bullshit. I don’t care how patient and understanding you think you are, a year of barely sleeping & incessant screaming will wear you the fuck down. Research even shows that having children decreases your lifespan. The more you have, the more years get ticked off your life. So it’s clinically unhealthy, and no fucking wonder. It’s the most non-stop, demanding thing and it completely consumes your life. I guess it doesn’t HAVE to, you could always just not care about doing a good job at it and say “fuck this” and go be like Jenelle from Teen Mom 2. But that’s gross and doesn’t look very appealing. For all it’s fuckery, I know that I would be a lot less happy without my work as a mom. Hanging out with friends all night & sleeping all day never really had much payoff in the end. I never sat back and thought, “I really accomplished something important today when I played Mario Party for 4 hours.” I never would have thought I’d end a day still in pajamas, looking like shit, and feel like I did anything productive either, but that’s pretty much my life now. I handle a lot of shit, both figuratively & literally, and I don’t get paid for it, and I still have tons of other problems that go along with just being a woman, and a human, and I juggle all that crap and I make it look good, too. The only reason I even got to write all this is because I’ve been feeding my kid chocolate chips next to me to keep her distracted long enough to not close my laptop or press all the buttons or spontaneously combust. Cuz that’s what moms gotta do. U KNOW IT’S HARD OUT HERE 4 A MOM.

For the record, I wouldn’t do it again. HAHA jk I would. Probably. Maybe. If there was money involved.

Published in: on April 5, 2013 at 10:47 am  Comments (3)  

Tumblr: wut is dis place mang?

Sometimes I forget what stuff I’m supposed to be offended by, but then I go on Tumblr & am reminded that it’s actually nearly everything. The spectrum is ever-expanding from legit offensive stuff like racism/sexism/rape culture/etc all the way to stuff like the “friendzone” & the word “lame.” I am still confused about those last two. I straight up spent like.. a lot of minutes researching to try and figure it out. I actually Googled the phrase “is the friendzone real?” because I got so caught up in the shit I had read in some random social justice rant on stupid Tumblr. I understand most things (except dumb shit like sciencey mathmatical crap or boring wordy things like philosophical literature or artsy gayyish stuff like poetry and ballet) and feel like I’m a pretty reasonable person capable of comprehending why someone else might find something offensive, even if it’s something that I personally think is stupid and like nobody should even care about but ppl are cray so wut can u do, y’know. BUT when I go on Tumblr sometimes I’m just straight STUMPED. I try to fine-tune my settings so I can just scroll through endless lulzy pics of animals looking stoned & gifs of ppl having buttsex, but I still manage to come across stuff that is like “OH HO HO THIS IS A THING TO BE MAD ABOUT OK EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS ANGERING THING & SHARE IT! THE RAGE MUST ENSUE THROUGH ALL THE FEEDS! EVERYONE MUST SEE THIS & ALSO KNOW THAT I PERSONALLY ADDED MY 2CENTS ABOUT WHY I AGREE WITH WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS EVEN ABOUT ANYMORE I FORGOT TBH & NOW IT’S JUST THIS.” Do you see? DO YOU SEE HOW THIS IS USELESS? I mean I use Tumblr for 100% useless things but at least a video of a goat making yelling sounds is funny, I mean that is almost not useless. It’s definitely less useless than pretending that becoming openly offended by some idiotic thing is going to make a difference as opposed to just not following whoever it is that you find offensive and continuing on the fun time journey of looking at the most beautifully eclectic mix of internet delights that Tumblr has to offer.

Published in: on January 16, 2013 at 12:24 am  Leave a Comment  
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My Juices Are Weird

So I started this thing where I get paid to reply to lonely men on the internet via this dating site thing.. I know this sounds really legit & like, professional. ANYWAY, as you might imagine, I become bored with acting normal bc it is just sooooo boring to be all “oh hi, you have big muscles tee-hee-hee” all the time. Sometimes I become weirdly resentful of how dumb shit like this is what women do for money (but mostly my mindset is that it’s awesome bc really ONLY women can make money doing easy shit like this) but also sometimes it’s just a huge inner debate with myself over if I’m being true to my feminist beliefs or just aiding in the perpetuation of the objectification of women?? Then I realize that this very conversation taking place inside my brain is actually PROOF that I am doing okay bc most of the women doing this are probably slutty stripper airheads. If there’s one thing that feminists are good at, it’s calling other women dumb whores! Or is that just women? Oh, who knows anymore.. the vagina is still a mystery to me. So I recently submitted this reply before totally realizing how hilarious & insane it was. The guy seemed nice enough & normal but I just let my juices flow and well, my juices are weird, man. I mean I just want you to start from the top again and understand the thought process that I experience before I do things. Like, all things. Even small things. I am so OCD sometimes that I don’t get anything done. For example, I haven’t updated this blog in months. Like multiple months. I don’t even know how many. I would take a guess but guessing gives me anxiety. Do you just want to like, read the thing I was trying to tell you about? Ok here:

“Thanks for the kind words. How old are you? You look really in shape. I need to get on that getting fit bandwagon. Sometimes I work out but then I get too proud & reward myself with like 1000 cakes. Then I cry about what a gluttonous slob I’ve become. It’s just a momentary lapse though, I always bounce back to barely eating anything just like a real girl is supposed to. Sometimes I don’t eat anything for days just because I don’t even want to think about pooping. It’s so annoying, like why do we even waste time doing that? Seems like science should have come up with some way for us to be able to not need to poop anymore, ya know?”

So maybe eventually I won’t get money for doing ridiculously easy things because I can’t even handle that.. it’s almost like it’s too easy so I’ve made it exceptionally difficult or gone out of my way to get fired from something that is probably too stupid to even get fired from. Eventually I’ll probably just build a rocket ship or invent new ways to breathe. 

Published in: on January 15, 2013 at 12:40 am  Comments (8)  

Keeping It Real, With Babies

I know. I KNOW. It has been a long time. You have missed me SO MUCH! I’ve barely thought about you because my life is so much more interesting. What a balanced relationship we have, that’s why this works. You wait with bated breath for me to slam my fingers around on a keyboard while I lounge around in week old pajamas coated in vomit and urine with a soundtrack of a screaming baby playing on repeat in the background. Motherhood is just glamorous that way.

The thing is, it’s unimaginably time consuming & difficult. Especially for people like me that have no previous experience, knowledge, or capacity to care about babies. Like for example, I had no idea that having a baby would affect my sleep schedule. The first night we brought her home I was like “WHAT THE HELL? TAKE IT BACK. I WANT A REFUND.” I require so much sleep. Like I am pretty sure that I am a cat puppeting this human body. I need 12 hours a night MINIMUM to feel alright enough to get up and not immediately search for items to kill myself with. But that’s simply no longer an option, I mean the sleeping 12 hours part.. the suicide part is DEFINITELY still an option and that window of opportunity grows bigger & brighter every day. I am so stressed out all the time. I’m losing my hair, which is not from stress so much as it is from tiny fingers violently ripping it out of my head on a daily basis. Quinn has also started teething, so we are back to those newborn days where I am awaken every 2 hours with blood-curdling screams. The difference now, however, is that she is virtually inconsolable. At least when she was a newborn all you had to do was plug a bottle into her face & the screaming would pause for a couple hours. Now we have to hold her down and try to squirt Motrin in her mouth without her projectile vomiting it back up. Oh but it’s such an experience. People say it’s worth it, and they’re right. Because as much as it sucks, it would still suck a lot more to go to prison for flushing it down the toilet like an unwanted carnival prize.. and that’s worth all the sleep you’ll never get in the world! Plus there are these fun parts, like dressing them up like bumble bees..

Quinny Bee

When she sleeps it is really awesome. Sometimes it’s so quiet I forget all about how screamy & terrible it is the rest of the time. Just kidding. You never forget. You spend the rare moments of naptime bliss quietly trying to do things like get dressed or eat. You tip toe around your own house as if you’re trying to escape from some horrible nightmare where you’ve been held captive by a monster that plans to rape you to death as soon as he wakes up. Sometimes you will start something like laundry or dishes, and you will get approximately 75% of that task completed before you are beckoned back to whiney village where you are not allowed to do anything other than try to keep a baby from screaming. I used to try to shower, but the screaming is so relentless that I’ve found it easier to just forgo bathing until someone else is there to ensure that I can shave the 4 inches of hair from my armpits in peace. It’s a similar situation with eating. Basically, Master Baby says I’m not allowed to eat. Anything. Ever. If I’m caught sneaking nutrients, Master screams at me until I share. If I need to go pee or take a shit (which is rare bc I don’t eat) Master Baby must accompany me and several toys must be provided so as to keep Master distracted enough to stop trying to touch the toilet seat, kitty litter box, cleaning products under the sink, etc.

All this strife is supposed to have some big payoff someday, though. So I’m giving her 8 years to get her shit together. If the child acting dreams that I’ll be indoctrinating in her don’t work out, then she’s gonna have to start pulling her own strings. She shouldn’t have any trouble landing gigs considering how gorgeous she is. She’s already getting a lot of attention from modeling agencies based on her new headshot alone:

There's my chippy!

Who could resist that face? If my baby can’t be the next Lindsay Lohan, then we will just all have to accept that the American dream really is dead.

Having a baby really is an adventure though. The only thing that it’s lacking is PRIZES. I have accumulated so many rewards in my brain from all the restraint I’ve shown in not throwing mine outside to live in the forest and be raised/eaten alive by squirrels/zombie squirrels (let’s not pretend we know what’s going on out there). For all their faults, babies are cute. Well I mean, MINE is. Some babies are not cute and those moms really deserve some consolation prizes. Being adorable is my kid’s saving grace. If she was hideous AND screaming all the time I’d be like, “GREAT, now I have to find someone to teach you how to have a redeeming personality.” I mean really, when do the chores end? I carried you inside of me for 9 months, and squeezed you out of my fachina.. I believe my work here is done. AM I RIGHT, LADIES?

I don’t want to discourage any of you from procreating, though. Babies are really awesome!! In fact, most days, I want another baby. And by “another” I mean “instead of” and by “baby” I mean “cat.”

Welp, if this sucks it’s because someone screamed at me while I banged it out. So until next time… I’ll be scraping shit off of my kid’s back. <3

Published in: on June 27, 2012 at 11:01 am  Comments (4)  

So You Had a Baby.

Quinn + me
I did it! I gave all the births! On october 4th 2011, Boner Town ushered in its newest citizen: Quinn Elise Pracchia. I was induced because my baby was being anorexic or something. I was 38 weeks and she was still measuring at 36 so it was time for this booger to get sneezed out. Despite being induced with pitocin and a Foley balloon catheter (the worst part of the whole ordeal), I managed to deliver without an epidural. I wanted to go as natural as possible and in retrospect, I have no idea how I managed it, but I did, and therefore I am better than the average woman. I would DESTROY pretty much anyone in a birth off. So now that I am an expert on everything, I want to tell you all about how to have a baby if you happen to accidentally get pregnant like I did which is the smartest thing you can do for your vagina.

a few days old

First of all, you need to have a topnotch bagina. You probably have a gross one but whatever do some exercise and go get a brazilian. Babies only like to slide out of pretty vaginas, so if you think you are going to just neglect your junk and have an easy birth you are sorely mistaken. I did labia curls 6 times a week to prep my glambox for its big debut. I also had my butthole darkened (bleaching is so last year) and got a permanent landing strip tattoo. Vaginas are like the new eyebrows, so you want to strip all the hair off and then replace it with ink to give it the illusion of the stuff you just took off of it. If being beautiful wasn’t so confusing then stupid people would be doing it. Also, it doesn’t hurt to have a small baby (literally). Mine was 5lbs. That’s like a bag of sugar, so you can practice giving birth by having sex with a bag of sugar. Look how excited my little bag of sugar is..

5lbs of sugar

Next, you need to choose a name for your spawn. Go with something unique but not too stupid. Don’t name it after your favorite fruit or relative, that’s just plain silly. Don’t take it that seriously though, because you risk coming up with something really unoriginal like Sooki or Reba. If you are picking a boy name, go with something really masculine like Renée. The one thing I learned after having my baby was that the name isn’t really that important because you just call it “the baby” for like, ever. I went with Quinn for my baby. It’s cool because it has a Q and rhymes with WIN. My one regret is not going with something “more black” like NyQuilitta or Aquaquinipha. But whatever, I can save those names for my future cats.

2 bbs

Ah cats. That brings me to my next tip. After you have your baby, don’t have any more babies. Only more cats. Yes, babies are cute and funny and all that special fuzzy stuff… but they also do a lot of shitty stuff like shit, and stuff. Cats are just warm and fuzzy and cuddly and if they annoy you and you put them outside, you won’t be arrested. Yes, being arrested can be invigorating and down right liberating, but it’s also shitty and the opposite of liberating. So take a page out of Casey Anthony’s book and don’t go to prison!

Hmm what else? I’m only 2 months into this whole motherhood thing so I’m still coming to terms with what an amazingly brilliant parent I am. Oh you know what’s fun to do with babies? DRESS THEM UP! I often go days without showering and wearing the same spit-up covered pajamas, but my baby gets the luxury of having multiple wardrobe changes every day. Since being pregnant makes you fat, I pretty much spent all my time and money during the final months of pregnancy buying clothes for my baby. Typically I’d buy clothes for me, because I used to be fun to dress.. but then I got all enormous and frustrating to dress. Babies are always fun to dress though, even fat ones because a fat baby is still a really small person, and as we all know, small people are HOT PEOPLE! I secretly hoped that I’d have a midget baby, even though there aren’t any midget genes in either mine or my babydaddy’s family. Midget babies are really cute though, Google them! So yeah, dressing up your baby is a fun way of wasting all your free time. Here’s my little turkey (plus my adorbz babydaddy boyfriend) celebrating her first Thanksgiving..

thanksgiving bb

I don’t have any more tips right now but I do want to share some interesting facts about my baby. She is really super ultra mega adorable (I know I know, that’s not a surprise considering the magnificent vagina she was expelled from). But for realz she is probably the cutest baby there ever was. You could solve world hunger with her cuteness. You could end wars with my baby’s cheeks. No lie. PLUS she was born with an abnormally high level of street cred because my womb was blessed by the ghost of Tupac Shakur, and you can totally tell because she looks just like him.

My baby totally looks like 2pac

It’s cool and everything but she is always talking real ghetto and telling me how she “runs Compton.” I try to make cutesy baby talk at her but she just throws up gang signs and shits herself. She’s a regular lil’ hoodrat. The other day she told me to go buy her REAL CIGARETTES.

gang signs

Anywayz doe, that’s about all the baby info I have for now. Check back soon for some more great parenting tips!

Published in: on December 2, 2011 at 1:04 pm  Comments (4)  

More Stuff About My Pregnancy

It’s been a while since I updated because I am so pregnant all the time. Plus I have become so overwhelmingly attractive that it’s difficult to not just stare at a full-length mirror all day. My body is like this amazing bulbous creature. You know how men like “curvy” women? Well I have pretty much redefined their wildest fantasy. I’m beyond curvy, I’m lumpy and parts of my body protrude in nearly every direction! I’m like a whole new breed of sexy, basically. I know this for a fact because when I go out in public, people cannot stop looking at me. At first it was annoying but now I realize that I just posses such an unattainable level of beauty that people have to stop what they are doing and take it all in because it’s probably the only chance they’ll ever have to bestow their peasant eyes on this caliber of babe. So now I’m just like, “Yeah ok you can take a picture.”

I made some new artwork to illustrate my stages of pregnancy. I think I’m in my second or third semester now. It gets confusing because you have to keep up with time and all this stuff but I’m so busy taking naps and overeating, so like I had been telling people I was 19 weeks along for like 5 weeks and then I was like, “Wait a minute! I forgot about how time works!” I’m on top of it now because I went and wrote all the weeks down in my planner. I celebrated my 21st week by getting very drunk, because my baby was 21 and we all know 21 is synonymous with PARTY! So here is what I remember about week 21:

week 21

Remember when I said it was probably a boy baby? Well I was just using reverse psychology on my uterus because I wanted a girl, and guess what IT TOTALLY WORKED! (My uterus is subscribed to my blog.) So I am having a girl baby, which means I currently am housing TWO VAGINAS, which explains a lot about why I’m so extra pretty lately. So if you want to know if you’re prettier than me, I made this quiz you can take to figure it out:

So after I found out that my baby was a girl, that’s when I really started to get that double vagina glow. Around week 25 I noticed that men couldn’t keep their eyes off of my belly. Some other changes started happening too like my belly button was getting really wide and shallow. This has basically saved time on bathing because I don’t have to put extra effort into cleaning it out because it’s pretty much all exposed now. Here is a drawing so you can get a better idea of week 25:

week 25

My baby is starting to inherit some of my skills such as art. She is probably like 4 or 5 years old now and wears cute outfits with little French berets and other artsy stuff like she probably goes to cafes and drinks tea and stuff like that. She is probably bombarded with boyfriends too. Anyway enough about her, let’s get back to me. So around week 28 I notice that not only is it men checking me out all the time, but now WOMEN are joining in. At this point I’m like, “What is going on here?” So I go home and look in a mirror and it hits me: I am so pretty! I guess something about all my extra vagina hormones is probably making ladies subconscious be all lezbo and stuff. Here is a very accurate representation of week 28:

week 28

So that is pretty much how things have been going for me lately. Oh another thing that recently happened is that I fell down and hurt my foot really bad. Pregnancy has given me the agility of an intoxicated toddler. I lose my footing out of nowhere all the time. Sometimes I’ll just be standing up and then I stumble on nothing. It’s super funny and really makes tons of sense about how fucking retarded mother nature is. I’m sure this whole experience would have been way more difficult if I hadn’t had my basic motor skills swapped out for the enormous responsibility of carrying another life. I can’t wait to see what my body has in store for me after I have the baby. Maybe I’ll lose mobility in my arms and go deaf, surely those things would make for optimal infant care!

Published in: on August 3, 2011 at 1:44 pm  Comments (3)  

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