So We’ve Reached The Lipnicki Stage, I See.

This morning I was making some special cornmeal pancakes to give Franny a proper send off to Babydaddyport.

“I am really sad, I mean supersad that I have to go back to my dad’s today. I wish I could stay with you for one million years.”

“Yeah, honey, I’m really….”

“DID YOU KNOW, that astronauts in space have to DRINK their own PEE? I mean, they filter it, and they say it’s not yellow anymore, but you would KNOW you were drinking pee.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve….”

“I feel like I’m going to cry. And then I feel SO HAPPY again,” she said.

“I know.”

“Do you like making people laugh, Mom? You do, right? I can tell.”

“Yes. It’s my favorite thing.”

“Hmm,” she said.


“Oh, I was thinking something, but now I’m just watching Strudel fuck up the wall with her rocker.”

I love this fucking kid. If she was a snack, I would eat all of her without sharing.

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This is my last day to treat this trashheap like twittur, I swears


Please to bear in mind that I have been sucking down some kind airborne version of estrogen all weekend. I have been tearing up at the drop of a hat, over sunsets and puppies and people picking strawberry seeds out of their teeth, so go figure.

ANYWAYz, it turns out that Amy Sedaris is not so thrilling in person. She was on a panel, and she kept dropping shit like “ching-chong eyes” and “glitter and paint, which appeals to deaf people,” and something about crafts for retards. Which broke my heart a little. I had always heard that she has a cupcake business, and I loved her book, which I was kicking myself for not bringing so she could sign it, but now I think when I get home…whatever. Perhaps it belongs to the Naked Feral Dwarf now. I think that she is a clever person, and there’s a thousand other ways she could be funny, and that’s all the time I’m going to waste on this subject.

I want to send myself hugs to feel better, but Between You and Me, anything that doesn’t involve lube or eels and a funnel is BOOOO-ring!


That’s better.

In other news, Elizabeth Edwards had a coversation with Lisa Stone, hyperarticulate and diplomatic Blogher cofounder, and I swear it just sounded like they were hanging out in someone’s drafty and extremely well-lit living room. Ms. Edwards is a no-bullshit question answerer and if she’s producing spin of any kind, I am too stupid to notice it. Lucky me. My question is, when is she going to run for office?

Only people from Hilary and Edwards were there, despite the fact that this is apparently the biggest blog conference evah. HELO.

I also confronted my doppleganger, The Sarcastic Journalist (other SJ). We talked for a while and things got weirder and weirder…it turns out that she masturbates zoo animals for a living too. Add on the fact that we both have a third nipple on the same side, and I was fairly freaked out. What are the odds of that? Getting better all the time, I suppose.

Fetching devil eyes!

Here I am in my leopard dress tonight. Shauna said I have achieved my goal of being a WAG this weekend, but what she doesn’t realize is that I need to weigh about 90 pounds, ten percent of that being bewbies. Better luck next time!

Also, one blogger that I admire, who I met at vagvest last year, talked to me during breakfast. I fangirled at her extensively and she glanced down at my tag. “Oh, that’s a terrible name,” she said. “Okay,” I said, and walked off. So I changed my name on my tag and I am considering really changing it.

Oh hells yes.

I met a writer I like who happened to be there on a different subject that what I see her writing for. Who’s Mur Lafferty, says my bf. DUH, she’s the only woman who has a complete column in KODT. I stalked her. The stupid thing is that Liz invited me to a party the night before with Susie Bright, and Mur was there! And I met her. But it was crazy dark, and it turns out I’m dum. Oh wells.

Tonight we hung out with Weetabix from Big Fat Deal and Wendy from Pound, and we ate delicious rainier cherries, which seem odd outside of Washington. Weetabix was so kind to let internet axe murderers into her room, and she even made me a Drunken Arnold Palmer, which was deelicious.

This, of course, was after we got kicked out of the final cocktail party at the Children’s Museum by hostile caterers. I was given a bottle of wine by the person repping the winery, and it was SNATCHED in an unholy fashion by one of the caterers. “YOU can’t have THAT.”

THEY GOTS MAH BUCKET OF WINE! Next year: moar party in a moar elegant space plz, kthnx. Although, Shauna did get a pic of me and Wendy Parising it up outside of a stretch SUV.

Sorry if I missed anyone in the party. I am thinking of one person in particular who I called a horrible slur by accident (I am a CHARMER, watch out ladies) but she set me straight and told me good stories. Say hello if you like, I only bite people who smell like cookies.

Sponsor table WTF?

“Oh hullo, I am nonchalantly being gorgeous while eating miso. Carry on.” Ah my roommate.

On a final note, this weekend of insane debaucheration in the dancerie has resulted in a paid writing gig with a respectable website. Deets to follow.

Me: I has a writing job!
Liz: Whose dick did you suck?
Me: Everyone’s!


I Love the Smell of Nair in the Morning

Today was grood. I saw someone CUTTING THEIR NAILS in a speaker panel. Don’t cut yo nails when Susie Bright’s speaking, jerks. I don’t think I need to say anything else about that.

There was a real stuffed and roasted turkey on one of the sponsor’s tables.

I am going to try to swim tonight, without any trampy myspaceage on return.

Also, two people mistook me for Sarcastic Journalist today, because I introduced myself as “SJ”. They went on to say that they also enjoyed reading a conservative Mormon blogger who was on a panel, and I thought, that’s weird. They have eclectic tastes. And then they gushed, “Oh, we know all about you! We love to read your blog. You’re sarcastic journalist.” Whoops.

It was awkward but kind of a relief, because I thought it meant I was losing my edge.

Here is a link to me and Shauna all cuddled up in bed. She’s a good person to sleep with, Dr. G. No kicking or snoring!

I saw Ariel there, and gave her the Seattle attack, which made me so happy. Don’t worry about the caption…it’s kosher.

Called Companion and he managed to say something before blurting out “Nice boobie pics.” I am impressed with his progress.