June's stupid life · Pieces of Wisdom


Francis thanks you all for yesterday's birthday wishes and says now you can all go away again.

Usually I get Fran a bag of Baked Lay's for his birthday, but he has gotten so fat I could not bring myself to enable him. If he were a person, he'd be one of those crane-to-get-him-out-of-his-home people. Okay, perhaps that's an exaggeration, but he'd at least be Junior Samples.

Junior Franples. "549" is Francis' weight.

Hey, what's with Google Images changing how they do pictures now, and when you look something up it's a whole messy jumble of photos and it's really really hard to illegally get images like the one I stole above? How dare they make it hard for me to break the law. Bastards.

Speaking of weight, last night I was out with some friends, and I was wearing a t-shirt and desperately holding in my stomach the entire time. We were with a woman I did not know that well, and I noticed for the first time how good her body was. She is probably my age, although I no longer have any basis in reality for that sort of thing, because I'll see some hagged-out old withered woman and she'll say, "Eeeeyuuup. Just turned 45 last week." I mean, women with the face of one of those apple dolls are 45, and I think, do I look like that? I keep forgetting I'm not 24.

The point is, this woman from last night had flat abs in her tshirt, as opposed to my rollicking ocean of abs going on, over here, she had really good lats, and those pretty Michelle Obama arms, you know what I mean? With the lean muscles.

We were all getting ready to leave and I pulled her aside. "I just have to ask you," I said, "How is it you look so dang good?"

After the usual Southern "Aren't you sweet"s and "Bless your heart"s and "You look good, too, honey"s that Southern people have to do for the first hour and 15 minutes after you compliment them (California people would not even thank you. They would just stampede to their workout plan), she said, "You know what really matters? Your diet. You can do all the exercising in the world, but your diet has to be right for it to show up."


Have you met my diet?

Here is what I ate yesterday. And Faithful Reader Furry Godmother, you may want to lay a pillow on the floor, so when you fall over dead you don't crack your head.

Two Pop-Tarts. Blueberry flavor, because blueberries are antioxidants.

Spaghetti and eggplant parm, spinach salad and TWO pieces of garlic bread, courtesy of my workplace that brings in fattening food every day for us. Thanks.

A brownie, also from my workplace, left over from a meeting. Thanks again.

And for dinner? Blueberry Frosted Mini-Wheats (see above re antioxidants), and because I was still hungry, some fettuccine alfredo.

This was in no way an atypical day for me.

So, today's question for Wedges of Wisdom Wednesday or whatever we call it is, What do you eat in a typical day?

I am curious if I am the worst eater out there. There has to be someone worse than me. Are any of you heroin addicts? You must have worse diets than me. Is anyone a binger and purger? Surely you ate more than me. Please tell me you ate more than me. Even if you did not, you know, retain it.

Okay. I was honest. Now you be.

June's stupid life · My pets

This is bull shi tzu

Remember when Henry was just a little bitty bite of a kitten and he and Tallulah were the best of friends?

They still are.

Henry also seems to feel it's his job to ensure Tallulah's cleanliness, and some day Talu is gonna snap that cat's head clean off.

I mean, he really gets in there and cleans. He isn't gentle.

But Tallulah has never once complained. Apparently she has no idea she doesn't have to take this.

Despite all this cuteness and supposed gentleness of this dog, she was far from polite to the Shi Tzu who came over last night. Because you know how Talu enjoys her a small dog.

We have a neighbor who is 88, and she lives about five houses away. Every day she walks her cute Shi Tzu, and it is the nicest doggie. He never ever yaps or even gets excited in the slightest, actually. In fact, do you know I've never met a Shi Tzu I didn't like? You'd think Shi Tzus would be nervous bitey shiver-and-pee kinds of dogs, but in fact every one I have ever met is alarmingly calm.

And so it is with this dog, Maxie. When my neighbor and Maxie walk by, and I am gardening or passed out on the front lawn or whatever, I always pet the dog and chat with my neighbor a bit.

Last night our doorbell rang, which always sends Tallulah into a frenzy as it is.

"WOOF! WOOFWOOFwoofwooofwoof! Grrrrrrrwooof!" said Talu, as I went to the door.

There was my poor neighbor and her Shi Tzu. I thought Tallulah's eyeballs were gonna spring out on coils.

"I've locked myself out of my house," said my neighbor, who is one of those old people who are in great shape. She walks fast and ramrod straight, always dressed neat as a pin, and is very smart. She was a teacher for 49 years. Last night, though, she looked addled.

"I can't believe I've done this. I have never done this," she said.

"WOOF! WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF%$#$@&WOOF!" said Tallulah, her skeleton jumping out of her fur and back in again.

"Well, come in," I said, "we'll figure out what to do."

"GRRRRRR! WOWWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWYour momma's fat!RRRrrrrrrr!" said Tallulah, grabbing her hand gun and one of those round black bombs like they have on cartoons.

That was when I figured out poor Maxie the Shi Tzu could not just merrily stroll into my house. Tallulah had a knife in her teeth, all her fur was up her back like a mohawk, she had a Swastika arm band on all of a sudden and her fangs were actually glinting. I think she must have purchased some Acme Extra-Scary fangs that she had attached for just such a purpose. In case some dastardly LITTLE dog ever tried to darken her doorstep.

Marvin grabbed Tallulah by the collar and hauled her mohawky self outside. "WOOOWOOOWOOOWOOORRRRRRGetout!Getout!The sow is mine!!" she growled, standing on her hind stupid legs and pawing at the door.

Maxie the Shi Tzu sniffed our rug for a second, then sat down with a sigh. He could not have been more indifferent to the giant Pit mix plotting his demise on the other side of the door.

We decided to walk down and try to break into our neighbor's house. All the way down there, five houses away, we could hear that redunkulous dog barking her fool head off. Sure, the Shi Tzu had left her house, but now WE had left WITH IT! Were we adopting the Shi Tzu? Were we leaving to sign all the paperwork? Were we going to get more Shi Tzus? No matter what was happening, it was necessary to bark about it nonstop.

Anyway, eventually we ended up calling the neighbor's daughter, who had a key, thank God. Did I mention we never heard a peep out of Maxie the entire time? Did I mention he was good and sweet and unmoved by the entire experience?

By the time we got home Tallulah had constructed a dart board with Maxie's picture on it, and some sort of Maxie voodoo doll.

Maybe a new puppy is not such a stellar idea.

Comment of the week does not go to Tallulah, who had a lot of comments, but to Siren, for enjoying my fetal position. Take a look at This Week's Special to see.

Film · Friends · June's stupid life

Wasabi afraid. Wasabi very afraid.

There is a reason this nonaward-winning blog is so valuable. You can learn from my mistakes.

For example. If you were thinking, "Hey! Maybe a bag of wasabi peanuts for dinner would be good!" I can tell you from the adventures in my bathroom last night that it in fact is not a stellar plan.

I went to the movies after work last night. There is this cute, pretentious movie theater in my work neighborhood that shows cute, pretentious art films. It is where I saw that Coco Chanel/Igor Stravinsky movie a few weeks back and wanted to cut my hair like Coco Chanel, remember?

Coco is the one in the white suit. I do not wish to cut my hair into a combover.

Last night they were showing a documentary on Joan Rivers, which I know sounds redunkulous, but it was all about how she wants to stay relevant, and how she keeps working even though she's 75, and it was sort of fascinating.

When I walked in, the ticket girl totally had a black curly bob. "Did you cut your hair like that after the Coco movie?" I asked her. "Yes," she said. Then she told me where she got it cut and they style they used to cut it, and she looked at my hair and said, "But my hair is really thick."


Does my hair not LOOK thick? How could you think this hair is anything other than thick? I spent half of the Joan Rivers movie worrying that my hair isn't thick enough, which trust me, is a first.

The point is, I opted for Wahhabi peanuts and a bottle of water instead of popcorn or wine or giant bags of M&Ms. I thought I was being sort of healthy.

Man, that wasabi was hot. I had to keep pausing while it cleared out my whole face parts. My tongue hurts today like it's burned.

It wasn't till I got home that I started feeling not so fresh. I continued that not-so-fresh feeling until 5 o'clock this morning. Not pretty.

So that's my sexy story.

Oh, and hey! Speaking of stories, what book are we gonna read for book club? I was thinking maybe we could read something from our childhood, like Charlotte's Web or James and the Giant Peach or something. What say you?

Before I go walk around gingerly, cursing the inventor of wasabi, Hulk wanted me to get everyone's opinion even though I have given him him mine and I know I'm right.

The other day he told me his cat, who he doesn't even want but his old girlfriend gave it to him and his daughter got attached so what are you gonna do, started getting bumps on its chin. I know when cats eat and drink out of plastic bowls, they can get a bacteria buildup that results in these bumps.

Hulk poo-pooed my theory. I told him to get ceramic bowls. Or stainless steel. Again, "poo-poo," said Hulk.

So yesterday he calls me to say, speaking of poo-poo, that now the cat is POO-POOing on his throw rug. My theory is the cat doesn't feel well because of his chin and he's trying to say, "GET ME NEW BOWLS, DAD!"

Quoth Hulk, "Poo-poo."

He wants me to ask all of you so that you give him an answer he likes better. Let us know. Thank you.

Maybe his cat ate wasabi peanuts for dinner.

Film · June's stupid life

Celebrities who bug

I was pleased that so many of you felt the same way I do about Julia Roberts. I figured everyone else thought she was just lovely and I was the only Crabby Appleton.

Here are other celebrities who make my nethers pucker up and twitch.


First of all, how many TEETH does she have? It's like she's wearing wax teeth to be funny or something. Plus also, I get annoyed at tomboys. Have never been a tomboy. Can never understand tomboys, with their naturally good bodies and their scratchy voices and their disdain for pink, sparkly things. And I didn't like how she got famous and dumped her weepy husband.


For the love of God, stop sucking a lemon.

Why must she always have this look on her face? Why did she have to play Yosemite Sam in Cold Mountain and take the camera off my personal boyfriend Jude Law for even a second? Why must she be skinny then not, then skinny, then not?



I know. Blaspheme. Everybody fricking loves her, and I have never gotten it. She looks like a gerbil to me, first of all, and she always seemed so affected. I mean, look at that ridiculous cigarette holder. She was no Jackie Kennedy, whose elegance was natural. You didn't see Jackie Kennedy with Frost 'n' Tip in her hair.

The moment that tipped me over the edge is when she's singing Moon River in Breakfast at Tiffany's, and she has that stupid bandanna. Oh, I just happen to have my hair in a bohemian bandanna right now while I sing this song.  


Go back to Tiffany's. Get a job. And be nicer to your cat.


Ehhhhhh. I'm in the most popular series of vampire movies, ever. I am dating Robert Pattinson. Everything is awful. Ehhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhhh. I can never ever smile. Have I mentioned ehhhhhhhh? Life is hard.


Nobody. In the world. Bugs me more than Gwyneth Paltrow. BUGS.ME. She looks like an egg. And she thinks she is so, so cool. And she isn't cool, because she is an egg. She never wears anything that flatters herself, mostly because how do you flatter an egg, and she ALWAYS HAS THAT SIMPERING LOOK ON HER FACE. She and Kirsten Stewart should get together and have an "ehhhh" off.

Of course, you know who I like. Grace Kelly, Jackie Kennedy, Sarah Jessica, Elizabeth Taylor. They all have an elegance. Well, Elizabeth Taylor isn't elegant so much as she is just inhumanly beautiful. And none of them get that egg, affected, lemon-sucking, tomboyish, ehhhh thing.

I'm glad we could all have this deep talk today.

June's stupid life · Pieces of Wisdom

Treat?!? Treat!? Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday

Goodness, you all certainly like to indulge yourselves. And I am glad of it. Nothing's worse than some I-have-no-time-for-myself martyrdom. Cut it out. Is what I say. Maybe I could take over Dr. Laura's soon-to-be-vacant position with my fine advice.

"Hello, Dr. June? I find myself increasingly sad. I can't sleep, can't eat, I enjoy nothing any more."

"Cut it out."

Yes. I have found my true calling.

Anyway, thank you all for participating in Pieces of Wisdom Wednesdays. You know, "Wednesday" is a hard word to type. Every time I type it, in my head I am going "wed-nes-day." What a stupid word, Wednesday.

In case you are just tuning in, and if you stuck around after that last paragraph I really have to hand it to you, Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday (wed-nes-day) is where I ask my faithful readers a question on Tuesday, and then on Wednesday I share some of the wisdom y'all all offered me. This week's question was, How do you treat yourself?

Fortunately for us all, I was able once again to capture some of your answers on film, with my magic erase board.

Wasn't there some magic picture thing on Captain Kangaroo? Am I hallucinating again? Remember the Toothbrush Family?


Brush your teeth.

Round and round.

Circles small.

Gums and all.

'Cause brushing your teeth the round and round way will keep your gums healthy and stop tooth decay. So brush very carefully three times a day.

Go round and round.

Do you think I remember the preamble to the Constitution? I mean, past the Schoolhouse Rock part? Do you think I can tell you anything from that big table of elements we were supposed to know about? What was that thing called?

But the Toothbrush Family song? That stayed right in there. Why?

Despite this, I still feel I deserve treats occasionally and apparently so do you. Here are some of the answers you gave me yesterday to my query:

Many of you went the spa route, including manicures, pedicures, massages and so forth. And I am sorry, but Marvin's disgusted expression and having to touch his least-favorite thing, feet, is so hilarious to me that I have to include both photos that I took. Because torturing Marvin is a hoot.


Another big favorite? Reading. You buy yourself books, or you go read somewhere. Obviously, you can't all be expected to read the highbrow stuff I read. I mean, we're not all brilliant like me. And the princess. And whenever I refer to Princess Diana, I call her "The PrinCESS" in my head, with an emphasis on the last syllable, like the British say it. At least I think that's how they say it. Whatever. Obsessed with the prinCESS. Could not have been more traumatized by her untimely demise. I wish Harry would hurry up and marry Kate Middleton, so I can obsess over someone new.

For some of you? Just getting alone time is good enough. I do not know why Marvin had to get six centimeters from me, so that you'd have to struggle to understand that I am in a closet. Perhaps you're wondering what that silver thing is above my head. It is left over from when I didn't get to dress up as a drag queen.


Speaking of treats, I told Tallulah she could have a cat treat (because she is on a diet and we don't even HAVE dog treats currently) if she'd go to her bed and pretend to sleep. And do you know she went right over and did it? Who grew up starring in my blog? Who knows what's expected of her? Who loves her a salmon-and-other-cat-flavors Pounce even though she's a dog?

Anyway, some of you said you nap, and at least one person said they nap with their dog as a special treat. I enjoy napping with Tallulah. She's a good little sleeper, and if you are readjusting and accidentally kick her, she doesn't hop off the bed in a huff like the cats do. The cats are such effing divas.

So that wraps up Wedges of Wisdom Wednesdays or give yourself a wedgie Wednesday or whatever we call it. Thank you again for participating. And if no one remembers the Toothbrush Family I am gonna feel like a total freak.

P.S. Happy Laura Ingalls Wilder's wedding anniversary! The fact that I know that makes me much less of a freak.

June's stupid life · Pieces of Wisdom

Wedges of Pieces of Wisdom

I have had three–three!–female friends get divorced and then become obsessed with horses. What gives? One of my friends says her paychecks should just be automatically deposited to the kennel or whatever it's called. STABLE. It's called a stable, isn't it.

I wonder if Marvin and I got divorced if I would get way into horses. I was never a horse girl as a kid. I never had the horse-pictures Trapper Keeper. Mostly horse girls were kind of dreamy and quiet, with straight brown hair. Have you met me?

I do like horses, though. My one friend used to ride her horse at the stable right near my house back in Los Angeles. Sometimes I'd walk down to the stables, knowing for sure she'd always be there. I remember watching her ride sort of late one night, the moon was full, and the mountains were in the background. It was beautiful.

Plus, she got a fabulous body from all that having to balance and the grooming of the horse and so forth.

I do not know why you would be into horses when you have a Tallulah. And who is obsessed with her Old Instamatic app on her iPhone?

I'll bet you think I am all up in the horse talk and forgot about Fabulous Wednesday or whatever we've named it. What did we name it? Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday? Although a lot of people said we could have named it Wedges of Wisdom Wednesday, but I already made a category called Pieces of Wisdom and I don't know how to switch it over.

Last week we talked about money, and how to be frugal and so forth. Let's do the opposite this week.

How do you treat yourself?

For me? Whenever I have money and/or time? I groom. Pedicures, eyebrow waxes, some ludicrously expensive makeup item.

Currently? I am lusting after this set of eye shadows from Urban Decay:


It costs $44. BUT LOOK AT ALL THOSE COLORS! And apparently, if you wear them, someone will want to see you naked. Who? Who wants to see me naked, other than Marvin, who has built up an immunity?

I have always been this way. When I was 12 and got five bucks from my grandmother, I'd head to the JC Penney's, there, and get two Lip Smackers. I mean, grooming is my number one treat to myself.

What about you? Do you buy a horse? One of my friends, who is unbelievably disciplined about her diet, gets a smoothie when she is going to town on the treating herself. Wooo!

Do tell. Then you will see some of your answers on my fancy erase board on Wednesday. The erase board Marvin thought he was funny using:


See. He's writing that we need a message board.

Oh, the hilarity. Let me stitch my sides.

Okay, be sure to tell me.

June's stupid life · Make June Do It

June bats her lashes at you. Not that you could tell.

Why do I always think it's gonna be okay to stay up late and watch MadMen? I understand that it is totally worth it, but you should see my bloated self. I look like I slept on a subway grid. Or maybe like I ate 15 Subway sandwiches. Stupid Jerrod.

Anyway I have no time, as I must head off to my job, feeling like Job, but you know what would be good? Is if someone did a Make June Do It re: Latisse.

In case you are just reading me now and did not read me last winter–and wasn't it a cold, lonely winter without me?–I had this thing called Make June Do It, where you wrote in and suggested I do the stuff you were too scared to do: dye your hair black, get a Brazilian wax, scream "FIRE!" at the movie theater, whatever. Then we would all see if I would do it.

I tried the BumpIt. At the end of this post, you will see the category "Make June Do It," and if you click on that you can see evidence of said BumpIt. It was pretty. Is what it was.

We stopped Make June Do It when I was bringing in less dough, but now I am employed full time again so let's bring it back. Plus also, I want to try Latisse and it would be a lot less embarrassing if someone were making me do it.

Oh, and in case you were worried sick, Eat/Pray/Get on my last nerve with your smug horsey self was pretty good! And Julia Roberts (a) looked pretty and (7) was likable, two shocking pieces of information. I really really like the movie Notting Hill? But I can never figure out why Hugh Grant remotely likes Julia Roberts in that movie, as her personality is wanting. If you ask me.

Also, can someone tell me why Javier Bardem never calls me? Is there a Make Javier Do It on his blog?

Okay, bye. And don't forget the Latisse. If you make me get Latisse? And I talk my doctor into prescribing it? I will do a video of me doing the Brooke Shields jerky dance from the commercial. Plus I will come to all of your birthdays with a small shitty gift even though I am rich and famous.

June's stupid life

I’m free! To do what I want! Any old tiiiime. So I’ll do drudgery.

I finished my freelance work!!! Yesterday, I worked from 9:15 a.m. till 7:00. P RIDICULOUS P.M.! Happy Saturday!

Then I had to stampede to Target because I am out of my meds–can you tell?–and guess what closes at 6:00 on weekends? Is it the stupid stupid stupid Target pharmacy? Don't I have an in, what with Target Steve reading this blog and all? Target Steve! Fix the hours at Target! And clear up that whole gay controversy, because I really don't want to have to not go to Target.


I have picked on Target Steve a lot this weekend. Oh, but you all need to go over to his blog, because he has a clip of LUKE AND LUDICROUS LAURA over there. Oh, I got nostalgic. I thought Laura was the bomb, although if I were her I'd have been doing that Robert Scorpio, which is what Luke's next woman, Holly, did. Does anyone remember this or am I being weird elephant memory girl again?

But none of this deep talk is why I dragged you over here today. The REASON you are here is we are going to have an exciting blog today. Which is a first.

I have been at my full-time job since June, and I have been working pretty much 30 hours a week on top of that at my freelance assignments. You can imagine, therefore, how tidy and pretty and not at all Laura-Ingalls-when-she-lived-in-the-house-with-the-literal-dirt-floor my house is.

So I thought I'd take a picture of each room as I clean it today. Because with my new freedom, my first goal is getting a clean house. Not spending time with Marvin (who is going to school today anyway) or going to a movie or romping in the woods with the dog. No. I is gonna clean.

So I'll take a before picture of each room right before I clean it, then come back and show you the after picture. Won't this be exciting? Are you a-tingle? So I'll be updating all day.

Let's clean this stupid computer room first. Shall we? Oh, how I wish you were all here helping. We'd have more fun and I could pretend to be supervising while you all actually did the work.


Hello, espadrilles that I wore five days ago. Hello, bathroom rug that Marvin inexplicably put in here. And hi, clean sanitary floor! And oh, can of cashews. You certainly belong in here. Love lifts us up where we belong.

See you in a while!

Hoorah. I know that floor NEVER LOOKS CLEAN. It is because it is concrete, because this used to be a screened-in porch, and when we moved in it had a 1990s beige carpet that the former-dweller-who-never-paid-her-bills-and-is-still-getting-collection-letters-and-phone-calls-and-repo-men-here-two-and-a-half-years-later-and-if-I-ever-meet her-I have-a-few-choice-words-for-her's little dog peed on.

Was that sentence hard to understand?

At any rate, we RIPPED up the pee carpet and I had the brilliant idea that we'd paint it Willow, which is a fancy word for green, and it is also a fancy word for "scrapes all the time and never looks clean."

But here is the dirt my beloved Shark got up off this floor. Sometimes I understand those people with white couches who make you take your shoes off when you come in, who would never have a pet in a million years.

Oh. And for the people who already commented, yes, that wood chair in the computer room is way uncomfy and I really want kind of a 1940s rolly office wooden chair with arms, that I can put a cushion in. Also too, yes, it does occur to me I am going to get a lot of unsolicited comments/suggestions today.

On to the kitchen! I know it doesn't look that bad, because (a) when you don't cook and just live on peaches and coffee (shut up), how dirty can your kitchen get, and (4) I kind of clean the kitchen as I go, since I am obsessed with food poisoning.

But Marvin cooks, and here is what I have to tell you. Often I hear women talk about their husbands, and I think, geez. I am pretty lucky. Marvin does not do any of the jerky things many of my friends' husbands do. But would it KILL him to be a little tidier?

Okay, be back after the kitchen.

You know what I am getting? Tired. Also? Sweaty. Are you turned on?

You will be when you see my sparkling kitchen.

I even washed Tallulah's little bowls, which happens like once a quarter. Hey, she eats cat barf. You really think she's clamoring for a pristine bowl?

You know what would have gotten this stove even cleaner? The Magic Eraser. Am obsessed with the cleansing power of whatever carcinogenic chemicals are in the Magic Eraser. Love love love it! However, we don't have one. This was the result of Soft Scrub. Go ahead, yell at me about using Soft Scrub here.

Now on to the dining room.

Oh, dining room table. Where little dining is done because we are forever throwing things there, such as that honking box that contains the freelance work I have to mail back. No, I did not copy edit a small child. But I am mailing one back. What?

Oh, and I just noticed this post keeps reposting instead of just getting longer, so I had to delete the last two, thereby deleting the last seven or so comments, but when I'm done EFFING CLEANING I have a way I can put your comments back on. Fret not.

TAA-DAAA! And careful viewers will see a hint of Francis, with his svelte self.

There was a brief, disproportionately exciting moment when I thought I might be out of Pledge and not have to dust, but I found it. Lurking under a rag by the sink pipes.

I took a break to eat a peach, which looks here like some odd shiny other-planet fruit, doesn't it? Like one of those bouffant eyeliner women from another planet has given it to Captain Kirk. Why couldn't they have ever thought, "Gee, it's another planet. Maybe the women here won't dress in their '60s Planet Earth finery" when they were doing the costumes and makeup for those women?

On to the living room! Not that it needs it. You can see it's straight as a pin. Note the orange feather in the bowl. Did we have a burlesque dancer over that I did not know about? Plus also, won't you enjoy my purse, which gets a place of honor between the smushy pillows?

Some nights I like to kick off my heels and do some picking and a-grinning.

Careful viewers will note I have left not one but TWO pairs of silver shoes in the living room, as opposed to the espadrilles I left in the computer room. Am I a centipede?

Have I mentioned I am getting tired? And sweaty?

Clean. I do not even want to DISCUSS the amount of animal fur found in this room. All of our pets are short-haired. Imagine if we had a yak.

Also, no one tell Marvin the part where I dropped his guitar while I was putting it away.

I know I have the bathroom and bedrooms left to do, but you know what? I am tired. And hot. And I kind of want to take a shower and go see Eat/Act a Lot More Smug than You Should Cause You Ain't All That, Horse Face/Love this afternoon. Marvin is still at school and when I suggested it he vomited. So I guess I'll go alone. And enjoy the love-myselfness that is Julia Roberts. Who bugs. In case you hadn't figured it out.

There is just one more thing I'm gonna clean today, and I will spare you the after shot, because you really need scratch and sniff to appreciate it.


Why you look at Lu? This not funny.

Film · June's stupid life · Proofreading/Copy editing

Just put your lips together and blow

This is one of my favorite scenes from a movie. It's Almost Famous.

Marvin worked on this movie. I got to go to the wrap party. He told me people got all dressed up for wrap parties, so I wore a taffeta skirt and patent-leather wedges.

Everyone had on jeans and tank tops. I looked like an idiot.

But Peter Frampton was there! He kind of stared at my taffeta skirt.

The good news for you is, this is the last weekend you have to hear me bitching about having to work on freelance stuff. I mean, other than when the statistics textbook company gives me work. I can't quit ALL my freelance work. It's like prostitution or stripping. It's hard to give up all that extra cash. I know each and every one of you know what I mean about the prostitution and stripping. You bunch of minxes. Particularly that stripper Target Steve.

Oh, was that a secret?

CouchDo you like this couch? Or does it look like Fred Flintstone's couch? Because we are thinking of getting it with the $$ I make from this job I am currently doing that is killing me.

I worked until 9:30 last night when I realized I was not paying any attention to what I was reading anymore. I told Marvin I was going to bed and he had his usual reaction to when I announce I am going to bed, which is to act like I just said I was auditioning for the NFL.

You probably don't "audition" for the NFL, do you? See. This is why they never call me back.

"You're going to BED?" He says this every time, as though normally I am a vampire or have been an insomniac for 18 years or an astronaut who sleeps upright or something.

Today I plan to work for eight hours, then we are supposed to go to a party, but I may be decidedly cranky by then. Plus? And I know I never really talk about this a lot, but I do not drink, and last night I had a dream that I was talking on the phone and I looked down, and I was sitting there slugging down a giant glass of wine without realizing it. So instead of going to a party I may have to pop in to a certain meeting I like to attend from time to time.

But before I go, I wanted to tell you about the woman who irked me.

I went to lunch the other day, and I was joyfully eating my french dip, because I'm healthy, and also reading the paper, when I noticed someone was speaking at the top of their lungs.


She was wearing a suit, and in my building at work, my company (yes, I own it now. I climbed up that ladder fast, didn't I?) takes up two floors, and the rest of the floors are bank corporate offices. This is hilarious because our building therefore consists of people in (a) really formal suits (no business casual for the banking business, apparently) and then (ix) my company, in our shorts and sparkly shrugs and ironic Tshirts and so forth. There is really never any question whether someone at that restaurant or on the elevator works for my company or the bank.

So this loud woman in her business suit was chatting maniacally at these similarly suited men, who looked peaked at the idea of being caught by her. I tried to ignore her and go back to my hard-hitting article about Laura Linney, but she kept TALKING. Loudly. And clearly thinking she was funny, with her dramatic gesturing. OH, she was bugging.

Then they saw a truck that didn't know where to pull in, and I'm lyin' I'm dyin', this woman steps into the alley, puts her stupid fingers in her lips, and lets out the loudest, piercingest whistle you have ever.heard.

That is when it hit me.

She was me.

She was DYING for attention. She thought she was the funniest person alive, and was doing all she could to prove it to the world. You know, they always say the people who bug us most are the people who remind us of ourselves.

Oh, the humanity. Am I really that obnoxious?

You should have seen me that afternoon when I returned from lunch. I was as silent as the tomb. I was as meek as Melanie Hamilton. Oh, I tried not to be that woman. I do not want to be that horrid woman.

At least I don't know how to WHISTLE like that. God, she was dreadful.

So that's my story. I am Carole Lombard without the looks. Or Clark Gable.

Comment of the week goes to my friend Sleeping Beauty, which is really gonna irk my friend Pal from MA, who was funny in the comments recently but I refused to give her the award, the coveted award, of comment of the week, because it would look like nepotism or something because I know her in real life. And now here I am awarding Sleeping Beauty, who I know in real life.

There goes 43 years of friendship down the tubes. I mean, we were on the edge of losing it when we were five and I insisted there was no "G" in the alphabet, but we got through that rough patch. Now it has come to this.

I am berserk · June's stupid life · Photo essays

June goes bi


Hello, young whippersnapper. I am trying to type you with my #$&&$@ new bifocals. Would you like a bottle of sassafras? Say, isn't that the calliope I hear? Let me get my big hearing tube.

The circus must be a-comin'!

Okay, I do not know why I am an old folky type lady. All I know is the world HAS TWO LEVELS right now and I don't like EITHER ONE of them.

But you know what's nice? The part where I can read things now with my glasses on. Hunh. Who knew bifocals would help with that? I thought it was just to humiliate me and remind me that death is the next step.

I wonder what swear word "#$&&$@" is, exactly. I think "frogsucking," which isn't technically a swear, but that's what I see when I see "#$&&$@."

The eyeglasses guy told me to stay off ladders and roofs this weekend, as my depth perception will be off. So there goes that cat burglaring I had planned.

In the meantime, while I get used to the part where THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD IS OUT OF FOCUS, oh, wait, now it's not, NOW IT IS, oh, there we go, I am still completely in love with my iPhone. This is the best $99 I ever spent. Plus $60 a month for the next two years. But it's SO WORTH IT. Don't you think Mel Gibson paid a lot more for Oksana Boyul or whatever her name was, and look how that turned out. This relationship is much better.



For example, yesterday at lunch I got annoyed by the restaurant serving "pizza." Was it pizza or wasn't it? Were we just gonna play house, and I would get an empty plate? Was it going to be lamb chops and we were gonna call it pizza? What?

So I took a picture and shot it right off to Sleeping Beauty WITH MY PHONE.


Not want your fancee fone in muzzle one.more.time, mom. Lu get Pit Bull on yer arse.

Also? Because who doesn't want this? You can take 800 photos of your dog, who is totally over you, and make them look like old faded Instamatic pictures. 



Then? I went to the farmers market with my next-cubicle neighbor at work, Jane West–whose name is not remotely Jane West, but when I asked her what she wanted her name to be on my blog she went into this whole explanation of what she wanted it to be, but mentioned in passing that she used to play with a Jane West doll as a child so I am ignoring whatever she said and her name on my blog is Jane West–and I took this picture of the RJR Tobacco, or, inexplicably, TOB.C, towers. It's not like they didn't have enough room on those towers to write the whole word. Did they just get bored?

The point is, TOOK IT WITH MY PHONE.

What the RJR Tob.C people need are some wires.

You'd think it was 1997, wouldn't you, as excited as I am getting about taking pictures with my ding-dang phone.



I just took this here photo right now. Guess how.


And just so you won't have to Google it, here's a Jane West doll. This is exactly how my coworker dresses every day. Particularly with the uterus pack. What is going on with Jane's uterus, there?

Really, have you ever once in your life said, "I think I'll pull on my completely turquoise ensemble, the one that cradles my uterus so nicely, and then slip over it my teensy brown vest. It'll go so nicely with my Price Valiant bob."

Have you?

Have you similarly said, "I can't wait to show off my outfit when I stand in front of a sheet"?

I guess those are all the stupid things I have to tell you.


Oh, this is so embarrassing.


Sometimes some nice person will email me, and say they just read all my archives, or that they just love my blog or whatever, and they always leave the caveat that they ARE NOT A STALKER, just wanted to tell me.

And here is why they never need to leave that caveat.

I love Miss Doxie. God knows I do. I am not going to link to her because I hope she NEVER SEES THIS, but if you Google Miss Doxie you'll see her blog, which she hasn't updated since like November of last year.

I am afraid that I was Googling around yesterday, and I may have found Miss Doxie's wedding website. Yes, she is marrying that cute guy, the one she met after she broke up with that Dukay, who was never good enough for her, if you want my opinion.

Okay, who sat there and read every word of her wedding website, which was none of my business but rather for INVITED GUESTS of her wedding? And no, I will not link us all to it. I was shameful enough doing it my own self.

But the good news is, she is happy and getting married soon and that guy is hot, if you ask me. And he likes cats. You can't ask for more than that in a man.

So really. I will never think any of you are remotely stalkers. Because have you met my restraining order?

Maybe I should go to Miss Doxie's wedding and take photos with my iPhone!!

I am berserk · June's stupid life

Elephant woman

I am blogging at you on Wednesday night because I have to be at the headache clinic at 7:30 a.m. on Thursday.

That sounds like a hoot, doesn't it?

I get to get my blood drawn so they can make sure this trial drug they have me on is not killing me. Oh, it's a PLACEEEEEBO, I'm telling you. I totally totally got the placebo. I am being paid to take sugar pills for six months. Fine.

Plus, why do I have to go there to get my blood drawn? Can't they just get out a red crayon?


Anyway, the only thing I have to tell you is I am tired from all the work I am doing, plus the part where my dog does not care that I am working two jobs, so the minute I got home tonight she started saying, "MMMM!" followed up by "MMMMM!" and I understand you do not speak Tallulah, but that means, "Marvin is at band practice and if you do not take me on a walk I will be a pain in your arse all night. Mostly because of the part where I will keep going, 'MMMM!'"

So even though I had 40-inch espadrilles on, we went. I know I could have changed clothes but I wasn't in the mood. I looked like Nancy Regan out there, tottering on my heels. Plus there was the part where I was eating my Cobb salad.

Does everyone know that Nancy Regan always orders a Cobb salad, or is that just a thing I know, like how I know Barry Gibb's 40th wedding anniversary is just around the corner? (It's September 1, if you wanted to get a card in the mail.)

But speaking of things no one should remember, here is what I logged on to tell you today.

Do you like Facebook? Because I just loves it. It is just the perfect venue for me. I have no desire to leave the people in my past in my past. I like 'em all hanging around right here in my present: the girl I was in fifth-grade cheerleading with, my old boyfriend who I dumped for Marvin in 1996, my coworker who never really liked me all that much anyway, my 10th-grade sociology teacher. I love having them all in one place and forcing them to listen to my pithicisms. Pithicisms is totally a word.

So, the other day I got a friend request from a guy I had gone to junior high school with. With whom I had gone to junior high school. Whatever. Get a life.

And let's pause for a moment and discuss. The prettiness. That was me in junior high school. Imagine sort of an unsexy really skinny Don Knotts. With giant hair.

My mother used to tell me that boys were intimidated by my beauty, and that's why they weren't approaching me.

Oh, mom.

Anyway. For some reason the way our school system worked, they kept us in junior high for 7th, 8th, and 9th grades, and by 9th grade I was slightly less hideous. Picture Jimmy Page wearing tight jeans and Candies.



God, Candies were the bomb. I want every color ALL OVER AGAIN. Look at her hose peeping out at the top of the picture.


At the end of 9th grade, they sent us on a class trip to Cedar Point, which is a big amusement park a few hours away. This guy who just friend requested me on Facebook (we'll call him Ted) sat with me on the bus, and we may have slightly made out on the way home.

And…that was it. Pretty soon it was summer vacation, I got my first real boyfriend Kevin, and Ted went to a different high school. So, like, we had one torrid night on a bus in 1979.

So this guy friend requests me, and we start reminiscing about junior high, and classes we had, and a play we had been in (they did The Elephant Man, and I was the star. I needed no makeup). Finally, he says, "Did we make out on the bus ride home from Cedar Point?"

Here is the problem. And if you know me in real life you know this. I HAVE A MEMORY LIKE AN ELEPHANT. LIKE THE ELEPHANT MAN. I.REMEMBER.EVERYTHING. Plus, I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!

So he's asking didn't we make out on the way back from Cedar Point, and I remember every last detail about that day. I remember what I was wearing. (Really? Okay. Yellow shorts. Yes, yellow. Adidas tennis shoes. A white Tshirt with magenta and yellow horizontal stripes. And in case it got cold? Are you ready? My black satin jacket that read "20th Century Fox" on the back in silver glitter. Honest to God. No, I was not Tammy Wynette.) I remember where we sat on the bus. I remember who sat in front of us (Jeannie and Lori).

And if I TELL him all that, he is going to think I have never had any other man come near me since 1979. And if you were around for those trampy college years, you certainly know THAT'S not true.

Hi, mom.

Anyway, my dilemma is, do I act vague? "Hmmmmm. Yeah, maybe we made out. Wait. Did I even go to Cedar Point?" or do I just tell everything and look like Miss Havisham? Do I show him my "Ted forever" tattoo and my "1979 was the best year EVER because that's when I kissed TED!" shrine in my room? I am gonna look like an obsessed nutbar if I'm honest!

Oh, this stupid memory.

I can't wait for the inevitable dementia everyone gets in my family.

June's stupid life · Pieces of Wisdom

Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday

So, how many weeks do you give me before I forget to do Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday? Do you think it'll be next week? That's pretty much what I'm thinking.

In case you didn't tune in yesterday–

–oh, and let me interrupt myself to tell you about a new thing that bugs me. You know how I'll be going along and something won't bug me then all of a sudden I want to stick a shish kabob skewer into the soft palate of everyone who does the new thing that bugs me? Like how the word "veggies" didn't bug me until it did?

My new thing is when journalists or TV personalities or whomever start talking about someone who is recently popular. And they will say, "Unless you've been living under a rock this past year, you know Robert Pattinson is a hit with all the girls."

"If you've been stuck on a desert island for the last three years, you do not know about Spencer + Heidi = Speidi."

"We assume you all know who Lady GaGa is, unless you've been living underground with Osama Bin Laden."

Oh, har-de-har-har. Thank you for that original joke. Really. And it didn't bug me till, like, yesterday when I heard someone say it and I was all OKAY WITH THAT WHOLE JOKE about you know who [blank] is unless you've been [somewhere remote here].

Also? Teenyboppers. I hate that phrase. Stop it.

Anyway, unless you decided to live like the Amish yesterday with Osama Bin Laden on a desert island eating veggies, and you didn't read my blog, we all decided to have a new feature other than the one where I interrupt myself and go off on tangents. That new feature is called Pieces of Wisdom Wednesdays.

On Tuesday, I will ask y'all a question, like, what's is your favorite way to make stuffing, or how are you making sure you're living your life to the fullest, or how do you keep from spending 20 hours a day on WebMD (again, I should probably keep my own issues out of the questions), and then you all answer me in the comments and on Wednesday I will post some of your answers.

Yesterday I asked,

What do you do in order to be frugal?

and I got a ton of answers. If you want to see them all, just go to yesterday's comments. Also, I have a new category at the bottom of my post called Pieces of Wisdom, so in the future you can click on that category to see all the tidbits from my many smart readers.

So here are some of the answers I got. I thought instead of just typing them down I would be like the dry erase girl and show them to you. Yes, I did go out and spend $5 on a dry erase board in order to show you how people lived frugally. Shut up.

A lot of you said this, and you also talked about debit cards you can get that give you $$ while you spend. Again, go look at yesterday's comments if you want to see everything.

Well, not everything. There is not a picture of Gerard Depardieu naked, sitting with the Eiffel Tower going up his arse. 

I have no idea why that was the first example that came to mind.

Who thinks she's funny? You know who thinks I'm not funny? Probably Gerard Depardieu. I wonder what's up HIS butt. God.

Not only is this site helpful, it's refreshing. BAH. And won't you all enjoy the Acme blemish near my lip? Yes, I said Acme on purpose. Wile E. Coyote ordered it for me.

This was the point that Marvin got tired of taking my picture. Can you tell?

So those were just some of the many tips we got from our frugal readers yesterday. Note no one said, "Do not buy Bye Bye, Pie Tshirts and mugs!" and thank heavens for that. Some things are a necessity.

Like Speidi. And teenyboppers.

June's stupid life · Pieces of Wisdom

Pieces of Wisdom Wednesdays. Because who loves herself and her big ideas?

I have a brillllllliant idea. Brilllllliant. And yes I AM trilling my Ls in my head when I say that, like I'm Julia Child or something. Am I the most annoying person you have ever met?

Okay, wait. I just have to bust in and tell you that every morning this poor hunched-over woman power-walks by and today she just hunched by WITH A SPOTTY PUPPY! I know this because Tallulah is over here snarling and turning her head 360 degrees and melting crucifixes and so forth so it make me look outside. I do not know how anyone can be so hostile to a sweet sweet puppy.

It kind of looked like this. Now imagine a really hunched-over woman trying to get fit while walking it. Actually it walked better than OLD DEVIL TALLULAH, in there. Barking at a sweet puppy.

But I digress.

So, here is my idea. See, I was gonna show you how mean Talu is getting new collars in the mail:

They had a sale where she gets her collars. If you sent in a picture on Facebook of your dog with some kind of spot, you got a buy-one-get-one free deal. So I sent in the photo of Talu with her mulberry stain on her eye. As opposed to the 666 on the back of her head.

Fortunately, they did not report me to the SPCA for punching my dog.

THEN I was gonna show you photos of the collars I similarly got for Henry and Winston. Francis does not need a collar because he is old and crochety and never leaves his chair. He needs ID for his chair?

Unfortunately, since I bought these on Etsy, I bought the last two collars of their kind, so the photos above are not accurate. The one on top has the colors of Winnie's collar, but the design is more vertical stripes. Henry has the Archie Andrews argyle, but in copper and butterscotch colors. Because these colors would so not look good with his creamsicle self.

Anyway, the point is, you may be thinking, "That June sure is buying stuff all the time lately, with her boyfriend jeans and her iPhone and her cat collars and her hair straightening chemical treatment."

And you would be right. The only reason I am able to do so, however, is because I just started this full-time job in June and had 14924784923 freelance assignments still pending that I had committed to do, so basically I am working two jobs right now and it is KILLING ME and forgive me if I spend $14 on a cat collar.

However, as of this weekend, I will turn in the last of my freelance work, and we will be back to being normal people with one job apiece. Well. I am keeping the statistics textbook company, but that's only about $10,000 extra bones a year and maybe every other month of work.

My POINT is, I thought, "I have a whole community right here. I should ask everyone for tips on how they save money." Because God forbid I could have saved the scads of cash I just made these last two months. Like a grownup. No. I had to throw my extra dollars to the wind. So now we're back to the king's ransom of a teacher/copy editor's combined income. Wooo! Where's my private jet?

So FIRST I was thinking I could have you all write in with money-saving tips, like "I bring leftovers for lunch" or "I eat from the Dumpster out behind the 7-Eleven" or "I marry old dying men" or whatever, and THEN I thought even bigger.

What if we have Pieces of Wisdom Wednesdays? See how we are sticking with my pie theme? PIECES? Get it? Do you?

On Tuesdays, I will ask y'all a question, such as today's how do you save money, and you write in your answers, and on Wednesday, I will put in my blog some of the best answers.

Which means I have just created a lot of work for myself, but I think it'll be fun! We could have all sorts of topics. How do you stay fit. What are your best tips for keeping on top of depression and not living under the bed. Or maybe that's just my issue. What is your favorite cake recipe. How did you learn to decorate. What are the best dog-raising tips you ever got, or I guess we could even do kid-raising since everyone in the world has kids but me.

Let me know other questions you want me to address on Tuesdays for Pieces of Wisdom Wednesdays.

Don't you think this is a good idea? Have I mentioned I heart me? Maybe I should buy myself something.

Okay, so today's question:

What sorts of tips and techniques do you have for living frugally?

Best answers will appear tomorrow.

June's stupid life · Times I Amused My Own Self

Hide your wife, hide your kids, hide your husband

I was trying to copy edit something yesterday, and Marvin was all next to me, giggling.

"Giggle," he would say, shaking the whole couch. He knew he was irking me, and he kept trying to do it quietly. "Pfffff," he would say, unable to contain himself.

"WHAT," I said, hating Marvin.

"It's this guy. His sister almost got raped–"

"Oh, that's hilarious," I said.

"No, I know. It shouldn't be funny. But they interviewed her brother, who saved her, and he is hilarious."

I did not want to watch this stupid video. I did not see how this could be funny. And then I did and I peed my own self. This poor woman was asleep and someone broke into her room, and her brother came to her rescue, and I am sorry, her brother is the most dramatic, hilarious person the world has ever seen.

By the time he got to, "You are really dumb. For real." I LOVED HIM.

Apparently, Marvin and I are not the only people who love this guy. Because they took his whole diatribe about the rapist on the loose and made a song out of it.

No, really. And it's downloadable on iTunes! Plus, some MARCHING BAND did a cover of it. And he has tshirts now. Which you know I want.

The whole world is coming to an end, really, that we all find the humor in this. Hide your kids. Hide your wife. And hide your husband too.

Family · Friends · June's stupid life

iPone Preoccupied


I took this with my iPone. Maybe I should twist it right. Does your neck hurt?

Eeeeeexcellent, Smithers. Who's my pretty cat? Is it Winston? Does he care deeply about being the subject of my iPone play? Am I ever gonna stop calling it an iPone, do you think?

Who loves her phone? Who can do everything on it? I can even make my pics look like old Polaroids. You know how you've been clamoring for that. And it has a compass! I keep telling Marvin what direction he's in. I think he's in the direction of divorce court. Oh! And I downloaded a diet app! It tells me how many calories were in the Mallow Cup I just downed without a care.

Also, last night I emailed everyone and told them I have an iPhone and that I would be downloading a song to play as each person's ring tone. People seemed obsessed with this. You have no idea how many people wanted to know what their ring tone was gonna be. My boyfriend from 1994, who has not CALLED me since 1994, emailed me to ask, "What's my ring tone?"

I told him something by Neil Diamond. He was irked. But one time he was in the shower and a Neil Diamond song came on, and I heard him turn it up, like Neil Diamond was good. So Neil Diamond songs always make me think of him.

What would your ring tone be if you called me? What would mine be if I called you?

I am berserk · June's stupid life

Mansion in the skyyyyy


I just spent half an hour writing you about my whole stupid stupid stupid idiotic 24 hours and then I LOST THE $#&%@@*& post!

Have I mentioned I hate everything?

Okay, so let me REITERATE.


First of all, I wish everyone would get these Tibetan prayer flags out my head, because it is just an illusion that Mt. Everest is up here. I have not had my roots done since June, and when I went to stupid stupid stupid Ulta a few weeks ago to make an appointment, they said they couldn't see me till Friday the 13th. I was all, "Oooo! Bad luck!" but I said okay, book it. Dano.

In the meantime, have I mentioned my creme filling over there in my root parts? And did I mention I was getting together with my friend Paula from Seattle today, not to mention all of her friends, not to mention Faithful Reader Jill Munroe and her entire family, who I had never met before, and I really did not want to look like you could enter Narnia if you just got to the top of my head?

Narnia is wintery, right? I can't remember. I think it was. Whatever.

The POINT of my story is, when I got there last night? They had NO RECORD of my appointment! They could not fit me in! Even though I had a card with the appointment time on there and everything! And I have many exclamation points right now!

So I STILL have roots. The roots, the witch and the wardrobe.

Before I got together with my Seattle friend Paula and everyone, I had to get my eyes examined, because I oughta have my eyes examined, and Marvin forgot to wake me up on time so I SCREAMED into the shower this morning, only to remember I had NO HAIR CONDITIONER and then I STAMPEDED to my vanity only to remember I ALSO HAD NO HAIR GEL.

I was planning to get both at STUPID STUPID STUPID Ulta and forgot when they did me wrong. Did I mention they took my number and said they'd call and make it up to me and it's been 24 hours and no call?

They are getting a strongly worded letter. Let me tell you.

So I had to go to the eye doctor with wet, unconditioned, ungelled hair. And what I looked? Hot. And not at all "she's 41 and her daddy still calls her baby." Also? Not remotely "all the folks 'round Brownsville say she crazy."

Say, will you hold my suitcase? Have you seen a mysterious dark-haired man?

The good news is I need bifocals. Because I'm 45 and my daddy still joins me at 4 p.m. for the early-bird special.

Kill me.

I wandered over to the eyeglasses part of the eye doctor to decide if I wanted new frames for my sexy new bifocals or if I was going to keep my current ones that I like. There was a 450-year-old woman there getting her rimless wire glasses bent, and I know this is what she was doing because I heard her asking for it at the tops of her lungs while I was being examined.

Believe it or not, I asked her, "Do you like my current frames or these new ones?"

She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse that was multicolored with butterflies and chains on it.

Old Carson Kressley of Greensboro leaned forward on her cane. "Well, it depends. Do you want to look stylish?"

I took her advice. I am keeping my frames. And adding BI-EFFING-FOCALS.

Maybe she and I can get together soon. Paint the town multicolored.

After my eye doctor, I got a huge smoothie and Marvin and I had to scream on over to Raleigh to get to our lunch with everyone. It takes an hour and a half, and guess what. When I was done with that tub o' liquid fruit? Guess who had to make water? Shake the dew off the lily? Drain the main vein?


Who was uncomfy? And I swear, as soon as I told Marvin, he SLOWED DOWN.

Here is an actual photo of our GPS, showing Marvin going THIRTY-THREE. Also, an artist's rendering of my bladder feelings.


But get there we finally did, and after I peed out the world, I said hello to Paula and all her friends. Here is her friend Top, posing with the meat tenderizer I brought as a gift to Jill Munroe. I know! I really know how to give gifts.


See, Jill Munroe started reading my blog and making comments a lot. Once my dog's paw hurt, and Jill told me to soak Lu's paw in meat tenderizer. Since then, whenever I have a problem, she offers meat tenderizer as the solution. Also? I do not know what to tell you about that painting behind her. It kind of looks like Alec Baldwin after a bender. Alec Baldwin if he didn't use meat tenderizer.

Those of you who have been reading a while may recall that my friend Paula has breast cancer, but here you can see she is fit as a fiddle. She is getting pesky chemo but it's not giving her much trouble. I mean, she thinks SHE has problems. Can you see my roots, there?

After our fine lunch, we stopped at a fruit store and I'm sorry to tell you I loaded up on the fruit, despite the part where I had urinated fifty liquid pounds of it back at the restaurant. On the drive home, I wanted to eat my strawberries, but Marvin said no, I should not, because I would just get them all over me. If you ever want to piss me off, go ahead and tell me not to do something.

Here is my stained shirt when we got home. Have I mentioned I hate everything today?

But guess what? GUESS WHAT!!

After changing shirts, the day was not a total loss, because we went out and got me an iPone!


Who hates herself long time? iPone. That's what they have here in the South. It's like corn pone, but you get internet access with it.


Helloooo? Can you hear me? I'm talking into a pone.

Do I look cool? I used my root touch-up stick that looks like a marital aid, by the way. I would link to the photo of it but this is the SECOND TIME I have posted this post and besides Faithful Reader Beth Stalker Woman will find the photo in eight seconds and put it in the comments.

Oh, and speaking of comments, of course Comment of the Week goes to Sugar Momma for her Ding-Dong story. And of you don't read the comments you are totally confused now. Pone me. I'll explain it. Or, look on This Week's Special.

By the way I hate everything.

June's stupid life · My pets · Photo essays

In which June invents the word “juzzes,” which is even stupider than when she invented “sparklefraffle.”

Say! Did you jam out to the part where I posted last night? What I enjoy about me is I'm true to my word. My word is gold.

Okay, shut up. I didn't get home till 7:30, and then I got distracted. And then we had a terrible storm and we lost our Internet connection, which basically rendered me useless. It's like I didn't know what to do with my hands. I mean, I wanted to Google "what to do when there's no Internet."

You all seemed to do okay without me, discussing the chicken McNugget lady and the stewardess guy who jumped out the plane and the guy who grew a pea in his lung. When did my blog turn into the Weekly World News?

By the way, I love the stewardess guy. Who I guess I should probably not call a stewardess. You know how he went home and got in bed with his boyfriend before the cops came? Someone at work said, "The only way this story could get better is if his boyfriend was named Trey and they were on the upright and locked position."

Okay you know that's funny.

So I got distracted because (X[ii]) did I mention the ludicrous storm last night that kept booming the whole house and (12) (a) (subsection 14c), Henry and Tallulah got MORE toys.

This is the elephant Talu got. I'm sure my photographer father is not out there constructing a noose or anything, after seeing all these animal-red-eye pics I am about to show you.

Here is the part where she immediately bit off the elephant's ears. An elephant never forgets, Lu. I'm just sayin'.


I was glad she was distracted so that Henry could play with his dangle toy and look at it like a nutty nutbar. It has DETACHABLE dangles so that he can play maniacally with a feather, leather thingies, sparkly metal juzzes, and juzzes is totally a word. It means "cat toy." God. Can I help it you have no vocabulary?


Seriously, if he didn't look insane enough in the last shot, his brain has completely snapped in this one. As he plays with his metal juzzes.


Did I mention Talu was obsessed with her elephant, so she left Henry alone? Did I mention she has Pit Bull in her? Nice expression. Nice devil no-pupil eyes.

So anyway that's where I was and what I was doing. Don't hate me.

I'll send Lu over to bite off your ears.

Beauty products · I am berserk · June's stupid life · Marvin

A hodge and a podge. Hey, at least we all get to stop looking at my arse. Actually, that isn’t true.

You know those phony posts where I have eight million topics?


Okay, first of all, I was having a deeply intellectual evening recently, wherein I was smelling the perfume samples that came in a magazine. I said to Marvin, "Does this one smell like someone put bug spray on a Sweet Tart?"

Marvin, who is totally over me and the part where I think things smell like bug spray on a Sweet Tart, smelled the sample and said, "No, I'm really getting more lighter fluid on a King Don."

A King Don. Who kills me? Has he been in a basement since 1975? When is the last time you thought of Ding Dongs as King Dons?


Marvin just walked in and saw this and wants me to be sure to clarify that Ding Dongs and King Dons were also Ring Dings, depending on where you grew up. Holy mother of God.

THEY'RE DING DONGS, OKAY? NOT RING DINGS. And certainly not King Dons. King Dons. Go, Marvin and his '70s references. Do you think he also wonders why I don't pull on my L'Eggs pantyhose every day?


You know, they have Sheer Energy.

By the way, I love how King Don has an All Rights Reserved R not only next to his name, but also next to his arse. THIS IS KING DON'S ARSE! DO NOT STEAL!

I don't know if you've looked recently but I think I stole King Don's arse since I started this food-centric job.


I did just get some "boyfriend" jeans, though (see me pulling off the tag so I'm not like Minnie Pearl). Do you enjoy my phony quote marks? Do you enjoy how the world has tilted in a drunken fashion? We are on a very angled part of the globe. I don't even know how we don't fall off. Anyway, I said "boyfriend" because it is the new term of art for "loose." For "I am a fat-ass because all they do is feed me at my job so these 'boyfriend' jeans will give the illusion that I am thin. Even though if I keep eating this way I will never get a boyfriend for as long as I live."

I guess I never will get a boyfriend, due to the part where I am married. Darn, that's the end.

In other news, it has been a long time since I've worked in a high-rise, and I forgot how much I hate people who get on the elevator and TAKE IT ONE FLOOR. I mean, I know I just admitted to getting fat phat fat, but come ON. Today I watched a woman take the elevator down one floor SO SHE COULD SMOKE.


Oh, also? If you work in an office? You know what's pleasing? Get on the speaker phone and then be sure to scream into the phone so we can hear every nuance of your call. Because the rest of us have nothing better to do than hear BOTH YOU AND YOUR CALLER.

Did I have a blog when I worked with that funny guy named Dan in LA? He was hilarious. He brought a whoopee cushion to work, and he said, "Hey June. After lunch let's go ride the elevator, and I'll bring the whoopee cushion, and when it gets really crowded in there I'll lean back on it!"

On my way down the elevator on the way to lunch, just anTIcipating that we were gonna do that later, I got hysterical and started giggling in that uncontrollable way where everyone looks at you, and no one had any idea why I was convulsing and snorting and oh, I miss Dan.

Speaking of my cats, which we were not but did I not tell you we were gonna cover just everything today, my friend Pal from MA sent Henry some toys today, because I keep blogging about poor Henry needing to have something to play with, and how he keeps climbing the shelves in the closet looking for his old toy, and you all think I abuse and neglect Hen.


With his sparkly kitty fur.

But see, here is what happens to all his toys.

Toy for Hen? Okay, Hen stop grimacing at you and play.

Henry not know why he beaming up in these pictures. Not know why mom cannot take pictures. Where grandpa and his photo skillz? Why mom inherit nothing but grandpa George Washington hair? Why Henry not Pioneer Woman kitty? At least then we win award sometime.


Okay, seriously. She was fast asleep in her dog bed, but she KNEW Henry was having fun, and her devil head appeared in no time. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, folks.

Toy for Talu?

No, toy for Henry!


Okay, toy for Talu. Goodbye.

Yaymmmm, grrrrrrrrmmmmm, toy for Lu! Rowrrr, rowrrrr…

She takes everything. She eats all toys. This is why Henry is neglected in the toy dept.

Oh, don't feel bad for him. He has murdered two actual real mice outside this week and I watched him swoop a fly into his lips right in the living room this weekend. He stays amused.

I think that is all I had to tell you. Can you believe that? It was so brief. Did you want me to bring up another ludicrous memory from the '70s before I go?


I totally had the green one. It was mint. I did not know I should be cool and get the red Strawberry Swirl like Kim Basinger.