This blog post was originally about the Oscars, but then it became about Bjork and Batman.

I will grasp onto the very thinnest straw possible as an excuse to throw a shindig.

Doogie Houser, MD is hosting an awards show? Yes. See you there. Or, rather, here.


We don’t care about football; but I did throw a “Commercial Viewing, Dorito Eating, Oh And Also Sportsball” event. Golden Globes? Partied over it. Taco Night? Regularly. D&D sessions? Hosted. Halloween? Obviously. I had a Memorial Day hootenanny specifically to get people over for fire pit s’mores.

I can’t tell if I’m desperate for attention; if I like an excuse to eat crap; or if I actually like having people over.

Let’s talk Oscar, though.

By “Oscar,” I mean “Oscar dresses.”

And by “Oscar dresses,” I mean “fabulously outlandish (and maybe ugly) Oscar dresses.”


Sometimes, a Delia*s catalog will miraculously take human form. It’s like the Exorcist, but the opposite.


Geena took a moment out of her wedding to hang out with us. She left the cake, her husband, her grandparents — everything — just to be with us. Then she went back and partied hard at her reception.

Not one to be outdone, Whoopi spent many years in a science lab and/or Hogwarts to figure out how to turn herself into a peacock. She got close.

Yule love these gift suggestions for witches!

When they talk about “Christmas magic,” this is not what they mean.


If you have a witch — or an edgy teenager — on your list and are baffled, let me help you. This is right up my alley. My house is on the left, in fact.


Carved candle ($28) – You should click on this link just to look at the detailing. I’d never ever burn this. Partly because I have asthma, sure, but mostly because it’s a pretty object.

Cashmere star scarf ($150) – Gets the point across subtly.

Handmade journal ($49) – Spells, rants, grocery lists, haikus, ideas for essays, and dirty limericks all have a fancy new place to live.

The Magicians ($3+) – Did you feel that the Harry Potter series didn’t have enough drugs or desolation-fucking? If so, I have a bleak series just for you.

Engraved amethyst runes ($33) – It’s up to the recipient to figure out how these work. Aren’t they pretty?

American Horror Story: Coven figure ($12) – I have two of these: Myrtle Snow and Papa Legba. I adore them. They are creeping up my living room as I type.

Cardboard Safari human skull ($40-200) – A comment at the bottom of the site describes this as “the best skull I’ve ever had.” Try not to think too deeply about that.

Druzy moon necklace ($63) – I dare say these are… charming.


I’ll be here all week.

Merry Yule, Internet.

U-G-L-Y, You Don’t Have No Alibi!

As the days get short and the weather gets nippy, one article of normcore clothing slays all others and steals their power.

The Highlander.

The Ugly Christmas Sweater.

No longer relegated to grandmothers and elementary-schoolmarms, the sweater has been co-opted by hipsters. They openly mock the older generation’s veneration of this seasonal atrocity.

When the trend began, the sweater had to be thrifted. Fighting other desperate twentysomethings at Goodwill in December was a rite of passage. One needed a heinous example of the Genuine Article.

Now ugly Christmas items are generated by designers, on computers, and screen printed onto tees. Prefabricated ones in different themes are everywhere. You can get ugly Christmas sweaters with robots, dinosaurs, Birthday Jesus, or NFL teams. You can even get one that says “Shitter’s Full.” (It’s from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.)

I’ve spent the last week at work focusing my attention on crafting a Penn State themed one. I took tiny v’s and assembled them, v by v, into designs that looked like snowmen, reindeer, snowflakes, trees, etc. Here’s the resulting hideous baby. I rather love it.

I bought one for my grandmother, and she told me with watery eyes that it was beautiful.

Here are some more things Nana would cry over.


Reindeer earrings, $28; Christmas fascinator, $45; Wine bottle holder, $27; Cat shirt, $12-20; Leggings, $15; Holiday Nikes, $250-300ish; and my Penn State Holiday Crew, $20-24.

I think mostly she would cry over the price of the Nikes. They’ve been discontinued, but still.

As Flight of the Conchords pointed out, Why are we still paying so much for sneakers, when you got them made by little slave kids? What are your overheads?

Shopping at the Goodwill is definitely cheaper.

A Pole Dancing Class Might Be Next

No Thanksgiving break is complete until your mother has seen you twerk. (Miley Cyrus’ holidays are always full to the brim.)

My mom took me to Zumba today. The class had three attendees: Mom, me, and a chick who looked eerily like me.

The instructor cheerfully told us that she had a bunch of different types of music, including “Iggy.” (She and Iggy Azalea are on a first name basis.)

About halfway through the lesson, the instructor delivered on her pop music promise.

For reference, dear readers, this is Iggy.


(To quote Chamillionaire: “Her face is the Mona Lisa; her ass is a masterpiece.”)

The move we did in class was this:


I glanced over at Mom, who was not dropping nearly low enough to get the effect.

Come on, Mom, I mentally telegraphed to my 60-year-old mother. Throw in some sex appeal.

I went hard to demonstrate. Because a girl’s gotta work off that turkey.

That wasn’t the only way I embarrassed myself in Zumba.

I also tormented the tango and fucked up the flamenco. I slaughtered salsa. I ransacked reggaeton. I butchered Bollywood.

As the class wound down, I told the instructor that I owed India an apology.


“I besmirched their way of life,” I uttered through a thick sweat-cocoon.

“You should come to my country,” she said. “We could teach you some Indonesian dance steps.”

“I really wouldn’t want to offend your culture in that way,” I replied for laughs.

But also for real.

My affront to a billion people inspired me to make the above collage. The items are, if you’re interested, a map of New Delhi ($29), three bangles (1, 2, 3), a sari scarf ($44), jhumka earrings ($108); and a Banjara handbag ($90).

They’re all from Etsy, so even if your dance skills are socially insensitive, at least your shopping habits won’t be.

Fugly Clothing I Have Worn

My long history of sartorial choices has me shocked I’ve ever had sex.

In middle school, I wore floral overalls everywhere. While those tumbled in the wash, I swapped in a sunflower crop top.

Next up were sweet-ass plaid bell-bottoms. What does one pair with such a garment? Everything — obviously.

Graduating up to high school meant evolving my style. Why walk in one’s pants when one can swim?


The week of my 30th birthday, I dumped three huge garbage bags off at the Goodwill. Turns out I’m still unable to pick ’em.