Fictional

Every morning, I go into the bathroom and with my makeup bag write the only fiction possible for me—my face—so when my iphone crashed the other day and in setting everything up again after it came back to life, I had to do another face scan password, I really had to contemplate. At the time, it was morning and I didn’t have my makeup on so I briefly thought that maybe scanning my makeup-less face to use as my password might make it more challenging for my phone to recognize me and use my face as my password once I had gotten the fiction published up there on my freckles (*cough “age spots”) and my eyebrows. But I proceeded with the makeupless scan and realized that I didn’t need to worry; I’m happy to report that my phone scan recognizes me either way—both with makeup and without—and opens right up at the sight of either face. And I think the moral of this story isn’t so much that I don’t look that different without make up as it is that basically anybody’s fucking face could probably open my phone at this point. Use it in good health, Anybody.

This particular picture was taken this morning in honor of the new lip balm I bought at Sprouts the other day. I don’t usually use the stuff—if your lips are dry, you’re dehydrated: drink water—but it’s nice to have so I grabbed some randomly and after applying it to see if I liked the texture (I didn’t) noticed it made my lips do this iridescent pink/white effect. And Back in the ‘80s I had this lip crayon that used to do the exact same thing; the ‘80s were a very iridescent time—chock full of a lot of face fiction plus some non-fiction, no makeup, etc—but I’d forgotten about it until seeing my face with this stuff on. Seeing it was a walk down an old and age-spot covered plus FiveGuysLastNight memory of my face and a surprising one; like who makes and sells iridescent pink/white lip balm at Sprouts? That’s not a thing now. How exactly does the company that makes it justify the hassle and expense of producing something that even the freaks of the free market like myself aren’t sure they can pull off? So I looked at the label. And that’s when I realized that my lip balm was sunscreen.

Spider veins like a samurai


Spider veins: one of the lesser-known signs of the apocalypse.

A moment of gratitude for joining me on this journey especially if you’re here without judgment and aren’t either full of shit or full of yourself which are actually exactly the same thing. I personally hope I am neither of them yet could also entertain the notion that I’m both but at the very least, my spider veins and inability to currently feel the societally-approved requisite amount of shame about them are doing their best to keep me humble. I’m body-positive today, bitches. Flexing all the way to fuck it; next stop: fully-loaded samurai.

Middle Ages

Fun Middle Age Online-Dating Fact: When you’ve hit it off but haven’t met irl, and he’s starting to confess via text the three things that might make you bail in order of severity and No. 1 is that he still lives with his ex-wife and No. 2 is that he has genital herpes for the love of God, DO NOT ASK WHAT NO. 3 IS.
But if you HAVE to know what #3 is…if for example, after #2, you’ve already decided there’s no way you’ll see him at all ever because you’re only committed to him via light sexting and aren’t that turned on by open genital sores yet still MUST find out what is worse than #1 and #2, then don’t be surprised when he tells you that #3 is that he makes his annual salary in just a few weeks each year by going out to California and filming fetish porn, for example, “Ladies humping pillows” and that you instantly realize Georgie here is actually kind of a catch.