I realized I can’t say dick pics in the last post and leave it like that. I mean, technically, yes I could, but I won’t. So the story as best as I can tell goes something like this: a couple o’ dozen alleged mommy bloggers were allegedly on the receiving end of alleged phallus snapshots from a well-known alleged daddy blogger. This may or may not have been going on for a year. Or so. Allegedly. Yesterday, someone posted an open letter about the alleged incident. Shortly thereafter, the dramaz broke loose on Twitter. As I’ve commented here, I clearly question the ..uh.. delicate fashion in which it was handled. Trust, if some blogger sends me a wang pic, that shit will be up for everyone’s viewing pleasure immediately. I don’t mess around with free wang pics.
But whatever, alleged wang pics or not. It’s a fucked up tale. That’s not why I post this. The main issue I see in the comments of this tale of errant wang is women wondering why men flash their peen to us in the first place.
Wonder no more. Hightail your ass over to the first episode of Where’s My Pants podcast, Cockcentric Impetus, where all will be explained. Don’t worry, we don’t show you any penis.
As I alluded to in other posts, I have officially starting my podcasting career, along with Eyerait and a third co-host, Steve. The podcast is named Where’s My Pants? and is a comedy-filled look at social and pop culture. Read more about the podcast here and check out the first two episodes here.
I’m all about doing some shit these days. Emphasis on the some. Or the shit, I don’t know. My sleep schedule got all whacked up and I had insomnia again. My insomnia is like being a child on Christmas Eve. The mind is tired. The body is tired. Head meets the pillow. And then BAM! I’m awake! Can’t sleep! Too much shit to think about!
And when I finally DO sleep, the dreams are ridiculous. I’ve had dreams where I’m referencing other dreams and talking about how crazy they are. I had one the other night in which my husband was refusing to cut his nose hair, which had developed into a thick black mess. He called it his “second mustache” and was combing it out over his existing one, handlebar style. Messed up.
I’ve been trying to figure out the whole pagination thing on the blog, but I’m picky as hell. And I haven’t gotten around to reading anything. I’ve tried, but damn do I pick the most inappropriate times to tackle stuff, like when I barely keep my eyes awake as it is.
In other news, if you haven’t seen the trailer for The Legend of the Grassman, Monkey Ltd’s indie horror flick, check it out below:
I’m looking forward to resuming helping on this flick, and it’s been getting quite a bit of press lately.
I also found out in a seemingly negative review situation (which I won’t post because…in the words of Ice-T, that guy can eat a dick), I’m torn between the elation of seeing my name and the emotion of dealing with negativity. I’m not sure what that emotion is yet. It was a sting at first…then a “meh”..then a musing on how I should get thicker skin…then another musing on “Shit, I thought I HAD thicker skin”… then I got distracted and went elsewhere.
BUT MY NAME WAS ON SOMEONE ELSE’S SITE! WOOT!!
I know…I amuse myself at least.
Moving on… I’m also in the process of getting ready for podcasting. Project one involves something for this site that I’m excited about. It will be a collaboration of jackassery and comedy. For project two, I will be donning the producer hat. More jackassery on that one, no doubt. More on these to come very soon. I just need to buy a mic first. I bought a cast iron griddle this weekend, but not a mic. Target does not sell mics in the griddle aisle, else I would have nabbed one. And mics can’t make pancakes. So…
Shit is gonna get done. LOOKOUT!