frito butt

have you ever seen such amazing bedhead?

i’ve decided to see if i can find 101 ways to eat fritos.i think i’ve eaten them in every non-breakfast meal in the last 4 days.

when i was little, my friend kari and i, and sometimes barbie saloom when were weren’t fighting, would spend an hour or two of our time making crank phone calls. the “is your refrigerator running?” or “do you have prince albert in a can?” skits were naturally completely lame and for your mom. we were totes new school in our style.

my personal favorite was “good afternoon you have just won a THOUSAND pounds of POPCORN please pick it up at your nearest A&P WEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” i would say this all in one breath as if it were the alphabet i was trying to recite all in one burp. i usually didn’t make it all the way to the end without crumbling into choking fits of laughter.

kari, the master of all things good, would just hold the phone to her face and screw up this oddly possessed sounding frog voice unleashing an unholy “FREEETOBUTT!!!!!” into the mouthpiece before slamming the phone down with the look of utter satisfaction of a job well done. it was her jam. that kari was one of a kind.

boo wah wah wah…


my mind is a screaming 3 year old. it’s possessed regan from the exorcist. it’s a hairy mercenary out for itself. luckily it only has a few tricks, and you know what? i’m on to those mother effers.


my mind’s 3 favorite scare tactics that keep me in a fetal fog are the following in no particular order: vivid images of people mutilating animals, total worry and grief about each passing moment and, my favorite, i’m fat.

it’s not so much the spinning as the back and forth


fasten your seat belts, ladies and gentlemen. please return you’re trays to their upright position and no smoking in the lavatories…….

you know what metaphor i’ve been hearing a lot lately? the one, used generally by people who can’t take care of themselves, about how if you’re flying on a plane with a child and the oxygen masks pop out of the ceiling, you need to place the mask over YOUR OWN FACE FIRST before you attend to the face of your child.

yes. life is like that. you can’t do anything for anyone unless you have your own thing together. but i can hold my breath for a minute. and i smoke. i find that the more concerned i am with how tight my own “oxygen mask” is, the less i can breathe.

just so you know? there is always room, always time, always more than enough to go around.

i just really feel like there’s some manning up that needs to happen.