Thou Shalt Pimp Others Before Thou Pimps Thyself

WARNING:

I am about to be extremely annoying.

I am about to call attention to myself, call myself attractive more than once, and glorify what some Mormons would definitely consider to be a drinking problem.

I have also begun the last three sentences with “I.”

Oy.

Before I get all full of myself, I’d like to talk about some blogs.  Some friends’ blogs, which, if you’ve been paying attention, you can access by clicking all over the right side of this page.*  I’d like to talk about them because I think you really need to read them.  I read them every couple of days.  They help me pass my mornings when I’m working through my 1st pot of coffee and it’s still dark out.

My friend Stephie writes Shortcake** and got me on Blog City.  My friend Jen writes Contradiction In Terms and likes owls (me too!).  My friend Jess writes The Secret’s Out (but not often, WRITE GODDAMN YOU).  My friend Courtney writes Astroshock, and her husband Luke writes Hoodie2Shoes, but our friend Mike doesn’t write a blog and that’s disappointing.  Thomas writes Fullabologna***, and I also read his girlfriend’s blog but I’ve never met her or told either of them this.  Sandy writes Behind the White Picket Fence and might be my domestically-inclined twin.  Shannon writes Ciao Baby but, like Jess, hardly ever writes and I will punish her by ruining my alphabetical listing and moving her farther away from Bourdain if she doesn’t get with the program.

Last but not the least, actually, it’s the most important, my friend Kat is behind A Better Woodson Terrace.  BECAUSE SHE IS RUNNING FOR MAYOR.  If you live there or happen to know someone who does, please pass along the link.  Kat is one of the smartest, most terrific people I know and I am honored (yes, honored, and I don’t say that with any ounce of sarcasm) to write anything she needs for this campaign.

GO THE WOO.

Remember when I said I had no pictures from Fast Eddie’s Day?  I lied!  Not completely because they’re not my pictures, but Rachel bothered to remember her camera and posted a few.  I nearly forgot about them because she showed up a bit later that day and…well, I was sort of shitfaced by then.

Speaking of that, I look foxy when I’m shitfaced.  And not like I only think I look foxy when I’m going to the bathroom and catch a glimpse of my bloated, watery-eyed self in the mirror and somehow decide I don’t have to suck in anymore.  I mean I don’t even remember some of Rachel’s photos being taken and I don’t even look drunk!

SEE?

Well, Mista Jones looks like I farted on him, but I’m almost 100% sure I didn’t.  Still, though, me!  There’s no droopy stroke eye or drool!  I don’t even want to Photoshop out that jowl bulge on the right side of my face!  BTW, friends who Photoshop pictures of themselves taken at bars and/or parties?  KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF.  It’s bad enough that you demand re-takes and deletions of pictures you don’t think are totally flattering to you (nevermind someone else’s drunkface or chin fat), but digitally manipulating a night out with your friends is narcissistic in the extreme.

And do you think you could refrain from posting about eight hundred versions of the same pose?  You know the one I mean.  The duck lips one.  That stupid Internet kissy face you all make whenever you spend an hour pointing a camera at yourself in your bathroom.  The face that is the 2010’s version of THIS:


(Does Marky Mark have a third nipple?!?!?!)

Whew.  This little adventure into self-centeredness has been fun.  Now get out of my face.

 

* I don’t have time to link all day.  Click over there —->
** She also writes AwwHellNah.
*** He also writes IMOLFO.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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