Monday, March 28, 2011

My Little Apocalypse Pony

It's about to get real, My Little Death Ponies!

Sometimes things aren't what they seem. I am, of course, using this as a loose metaphor to compare people to My Little Ponies. As I feel like I am back on the elementary playground with all the secrets and fair-weathered friendships, I suppose a toy is an appropriate comparison. Like how they were once cute bathtub companions that filled Barbie's stall, and out of no where, they are evil creatures with no compassion or care for the feelings of others. My Little Spawns of Death! (I'm looking at the mid-to-late half of my mid-to-late 20's, I am old enough to embellish a bit.) What was once rainbows and glitter is now forgotten words and not getting invited to the sleep over flashbacks. So dumb. So enlightening. So hurtful. So boring. I really did like those cute little equines! C'est la vie.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Giving the Finger

Some people tie a string around their finger when they want to remember something. I hold one of my fingers hostage.

Friday, March 25, 2011

The Real World: Winnie the Pooh

You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you.
You have to go to them sometimes.
~Winnie the Pooh

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Mad Haters and the Hare

Sometimes I feel like this. A tired rabbit mask person just trying to catch the carrot.

You think you have people in this world, friend people, to help swing the carrot in your direction, but it turns out they don't want to help you. They wanted to hop around with you when you had lots of carrots or when they thought they could have your carrot or when they felt sad and needed someone to make them feel better about their carrots. Then they drop you, say mean spirited things about you, and share their carrots with someone else. These friend people suck.

Well, fuck that and fuck them! When you get stuck in a carrot chasing rut, you just gotta get your shit together long enough to put things into perspective, like this little furry friend!

There are so many things for which to be thankful. I am lucky in so many ways. And I don't really like most of the dummies I let get me down, so that's silly! If that carrot is out of reach, fine! Grab something else. You'll get the carrot eventually. And when you feel like a sad rabbit, relax and give yourself a hand... to metaphorically bitch slap the haters!

Haters make me famous.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Unicorn Magic!

Today was BEAUTIFUL! Spring is starting to sprung! And as you know, year after year the warm breeze of spring rides in on unicorn drawn chariots. No other creature can produce the warmth, color, and magic of spring like the majestic unicorn.

Unicorns blood is made of rainbows. Seriously. And they shit glitter. And cry whiskey. See:

Eating unicorn meat is thought to give you super powers, but actually, it kills you. Unless of course, that specific unicorn has given you permission to eat it. Then you will never die, become immune to carbs, and shit glitter.

One of my favorite breeds of unicorn is the elusive Unicone. Sadly, Mr. Tastee commissioned poachers have damn near killed them all! They usually remain invisible to humans and have developed laser death rays that shoot out of their eyes.

The most common unicorn in the FuckUnicorn. I actually own a teacup version of this breed. I carry it around with me in a little pink bag meant for small dogs.


Friday, March 18, 2011


From the couch... to the fireplace... to the chair... toss down a pillow bridge...
Lava floor is the best.

Thursday, March 17, 2011



When I was a wee lass, I lived in Letterkenny, Ireland. My Dad's company sent him there, so Mom and I went, too. We set up house in Letterkenny and traveled all over Europe. They were filming National Lampoon's European Vacation when we were at the Eiffel Tower and we got a script. Chevy Chase thought I was super cute! Duh! I was very young, so I don't remember a lot. Specific memories include, things being green, sheep, picking up a rock at a castle, and getting sick. And I have snapshot memories of having a birthday party over there with all my Irish friends and getting a Bosco the Clown. As I was very young, I also picked up a bit of a brogue that quickly turned southern drawl upon returning to the states. I would be at least 38% more awesome if I still rocked the Lucky Charms accent. Bummer.

I will make it back one day. I mean, come on, Erin McCirish! It's so beautiful. And true to memory, green.

And this time I will be old enough to drink at ye olde pub. Well, legally.

Wear Green!!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Nanny By Day...

I babysit an adorable little red-headed sass machine. I started working with her when she was 5. Now she's 11! Whoa! She's like my own! What used to be titty tats (she couldn't say her 'k's) and coloring is now, 'How old are you when you have sex' and 'So... tampons. Where do they go?'

When I am not a Nanny, I am in a filthy dirty doo-wop band, tart clients up with hair and make-up, make sailors blush with my colorful explicatives, shoot whiskey like a pro, and often times perform in plays/films with questionable content.

Occasionally, Red has come along with me into my other life. She has sat backstage and pretended not to hear what is being said on the other side of the dressing room wall, she has met my weirdo friends, she has seen my perverse home decorating, and she was even there for part of the recording of the Cudzoo album. Sometimes she says 'ass' and 'hell', 'because they are in the Bible, so they aren't so bad', she explained.

Basically, she's the coolest and she has the coolest babysitter in the world, and gets to do super cool (mildly inappropriate) things that make her friends jealous. I even encourage her to get in a little trouble now and then as long as she understands that she has to suffer the consequences if she gets caught.

I hope she looks back on our time together one day and says, 'What the fuck were my parents thinking?!'

I love you, little soulmate!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Sequin Face is a Drag!

Things I love include make-up and sequins.

Oh, for fuck's sake! I DO NOT, apparently, love them at the same time. This weirds me out. It makes my eyes twitch, my skin tickle, and my teeth close really tight together... but I can't stop looking at it! And think about how long it took. And think about popping each one of those little sparkley fuckers off. Oh man, it makes me shiver. ICK!

But, also, it's kinda amazing and beautiful and fantastic.

Monday, March 14, 2011


What are these?
This enlightening shift in perspective seems to once again prove that sex sells, even when we don't recognize it. From the artist's website:

Still Life (Cosmetic Bottles), by David Baskin

This ‘still life’, a selection of store bought cosmetic bottles, was cast in pigmented rubber. By stripping the products of their brand recognition, logos, or semiotic labeling, one begins to see the high aesthetic quality of these objects and a latent eroticism is revealed.

What do you think? Latent eroticism or deodorant bottles?

Friday, March 11, 2011

Where Are They Now? Skeletor v. He-Man

It was clear at a very early age that Skeletor was predestined to be He-Man's arch-enemy and main antagonist in the Masters of the Universe franchise. Skeletot was a finicky baby with a taste for kittens and dark magic.

Try as he might, even with the force of all that is evil behind him, he was never able to defeat He-Man, learn the ancient secrets of Castle Greyskull, and rule Eternia. Thusly, he took to figure modeling for college art class electives and turning the occasional trick. His clients never complained (due to his mystical powers and muscular blue humanoid form, one can assume) and he earned the moniker Skelewhore.
In his spare time, he can still be found roaming the streets, with Panthor and his Havoc Staff (not a euphemism), looking for He-Man and hoping to put an end their eternal battle of good versus evil.

Little does he know, He-Man, sporting a clever disguise, has chosen a new direction for his life. How long will this ruse last? Is Prince Adam the new Prince Albert? Is She-Ra chic in this season?

And the battle continues!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Doe. A deer. Here come the tears!

I found this art piece and the story that goes with it. I find it heartbreaking and peaceful. It makes me tear up, but I can't stop looking at their sweet little bodies all cuddled in together. And then I think about how there are a lot of Bambie commercials on right now, because of the blu-ray release. And I always start to cry during the Bambi commercials. Then I think of the shelter animal commercials, and how they send me into a code red mental breakdown. So then I cry more over these darling does. I hope that I am forever snuggled into someone I love. That leads me straight to Rabbit Hole, the movie about losing a child, that only upset me when the dog was involved. Then I feel bad for holding emotions for animals over humans, diagnose myself sociopath, and continue to sniffle for these twin creatures. So, anyway. Yeah. How do you react to this much cute sweetness and harsh reality of mortality? I struggle.

The Twin Fawns, by Peregrine Honig

I came upon Twin Fawns in the display case of a mom and pop toy and science store in Kansas City, Missouri. It took me two years to win the trust of the shop owner and save the money to buy them. A taxidermist spotted a dead deer by the side of the road. He stopped to properly dispose of the body and realized she was pregnant. He opened her and found near full-term twin fawns, he removed and preserved them.
Deer rarely have twins and the taxidermist retained the uterine gesture of their bodies. I built them a vitrine with a light blue base. Their prematurity exaggerates the delicacy of an incredibly sweet thing. The points of their hooves, the length of their lashes, the spots of their hides, nose to small nose in an un-cartoonish realism… Viewers’ eyes trick them into believing the fawns are breathing. The tragedy of beauty is its transience.
The twins live forever in their own demise. They are sleeping beauties. They have been muses since I first saw them.
We dress death in lilies and bronze the names of our dead sons on walls. We erect altars of toys and hold candlelight vigils to express hope. My twin fawns sleep endlessly on their baby blue block in my studio. The twins never opened their eyes yet their wondrous fatality evokes an acceptable alternative to death.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

If You Like It Then You Shoulda Put Your Finger In It!

I am looking into finger adding surgery so I can have all of these and wear them all at once with proper spacing to allow the viewer to appreciate each ring. I mean, I don't want to look gaudy!

So I can always find my way around the city, the Gotham ring. I will wear with my Batman earrings. Because that's adorable.

The I Want To Shoot You Dead ring. Makes any finger the fuck you finger!

The Sharpener On-The-Go ring. It says, 'I'm an architect' or 'I'm a student' or 'I write in library books in a responsible way' or 'I'm prepared for anything' or, in my case, 'I appreciate a good sharp tip on my eyebrow pencil.'

The Gas Mask ring. Let people know YOUR FINGER will survive WWIII, the zombie apocalypse, otherworldly intelligent beings dominating our planet, nuclear winters, and nights when your partner's farts smell like warm cat food, boiled eggs, and French's fried onions mixed together and shit back out in the form of acidic gag air poofs.

And my favorite, the Heroin Really Is Chic SyRINGe. This and a naughty nurse outfit are enough to make me consider the Florence Nightingale path. Many people become doctors to help others, I want to be a doctor for the cheeky jewelry and funny death goofs.

Ring ding dong. Ring a ding ding ding dong. I want these.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

I Seek Amy!

I have a friend. Her name is Amy. Not only does she always know what song is playing in my head, but, also, she is dark. Real dark! Sick and twisted scary dark. And I LOVE IT! She is one of the few people I know who are willing to go ahead and go there. It doesn't matter who's watching or who is in the way, she is confident that they will move or happily suffer the consequences. Basically, I'm glad she's on my side, cause she will wreck you.

How did she put it? Perversion with a touch of class.

Other than myself, she is also the only other person I can think of who would wear these pieces of jewelry and think they are hilarious. Maybe we should get matching ones! Like really fucked up friendship bracelets, proudly announcing our need for attention. Yeah, I saw The Craft (like a bazillion times), I know which direction is cry for help and which way means business.

Yay! Needy Friends Forever!

Sunday, March 6, 2011


I'm a Tarheel Born
I'm a Tarheel bred
And when I die
I'll be a Tarheel dead
So rah rah Carolina-lina
Rah rah Carolina-line
Rah rah Carolina-line

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Zombie Apocalypse Hat

Tonight, Sweetheart and I were rounding up our choice army in case of a zombie apocalypse. We were surprised at who did and did not make the cut. Did you? Well, we can't tell you until Z-day, but until then, you can start crocheting your official Team Super Survive headgear. Not only will it help prevent potential brain damage due to contusions (I'm fitting mine over my bicycle helmet), but it will also confuse zombies and remind your fellow team members that a zombie apocalypse is no time to lose your sense of humor!

Friday, March 4, 2011

Shoe Fly, that Shoe is FLY!

'Mama always says there's an awful lot you could tell about a person by their shoes. Where they're going. Where they've been.'

Well, Forrest, let's take a look:

Flipettos. The shoe biproduct of Cinderella and Ariel's adopted daughter who has an affinity for Barbie. My two Mommies practical lesbian wear never looked so stylish!

Shoes for deaf bitches.

The costume designer's solution to the ruby slippers at GDub's all male high school production of The Wiz of Oz. Bitch gotta be able to run, that shit is in the Heights! They shoot you there. There's no place like homo!

Actually, I want these. All of them.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Mogwai Muff

Mogwai's are cute furry little balls of curiosity, loving and kind. Furby before Furby. Think alien kittens. I wish, I wish I could wear one around my waist...


The Mogwai skirt.

When wearing this skirt, there are rules to be followed. The outcome of breaking a rule is unclear, but I have included the most likely possibilities.

1. Stay out of sunlight or you will die. Or your skirt will spontaneously combust leaving you em-BARE-ASSED!

2. Do NOT get wet! If you do, you will develop huge boils on your bottom that will either produce more Mogwai skirts or more ass. I am unclear as to what sort of 'wet' this implies.

3. Do NOT eat after midnight. If you consume foods after midnight, your skirt will become a hideous green bridesmaidesque monstrosity that you can never take off or you will become a demon reptile creature with large ears and a mean-spirited disposition. As a child of the 80's, your id will become terrified of yourself, requiring you to never get out of bed again and eat lots of fried chicken. Then you will be a fat demon reptile creature with large ears and a mean-spirited disposition. No one will ever love you. Sorry.

Otherwise, enjoy being the belle of any ball in your Mogwai bottom half!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Big Mac

Cause, see, my name is McCarson. Big Mac. No? Ok.

I have been coveting this dress for weeks. I have the picture, among other things I covet, saved on my desktop. Today, my dear friend Mametastic posted it on my facebook and said we needed them. I take this as a sign from the Universe (and Mametastic) that I do indeed need this dress. Sans the sesame seeds (they would murder Mudder) and maybe the veggies and cheese switched, so I have an adorable lettuce/tomato/onion tutu. I want it my way. That's why they call me Big Mac! (No one calls me that.)

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Buh-Bye, Valentine!

I, for one, had a pretty shitty Valentine's. Sweetheart and I got in a huge fight over something so stupid I refuse to even admit it on here. I was sure we were thisclose to hating each other forever. We have since worked it out, as you do when you have a stoopit disagreement, but I would still like to put this month of loveyshit out to pasture. Here are some sayonara V-day treats!

These Valentine's are pretty apropos. They are cute, but, bet you me, you don't wanna spend your V-day with a monster. They are super jealous and surprisingly needy.

This is more like it... until he eats your brains. You could trick him into eating your Sweetheart's brains, but as you are mad at him and not convinced that he has any, it's best to steer clear of handsome rose-bearing zombies.

I find that after this Valentine's Day massacre, it's best to carry on into March like it never happened!

Valentine's Day 2011, get the fuck outta my face!


My Mummy Dearest collects nesting dolls. I don't know if she meant to. She got one in Europe when we used to live there. I remember playing with it when I was younger and liking it a lot. So, one Christmas, I got her a nesting doll. And the next Christmas, another. So on and so forth... And she started buying nesting dolls that were unusual. And Brotherbear began giving them to her, too. Now she has lots of beautiful unique nesting dolls. Even one I made of our family. Daisy (dog) in Brotherbear in me in Mummy in Father. I read or heard somewhere or made up that 'people collect things so you know what to get them for gifts.' Good enough reason for me! I collect lots of weird things, and I do like getting presents. Cause and effect, good reader. Cause and effect!

I worry she may acquire too many. We are under 20 and well below hoarder red flags, but still. Or that she didn't mean to have this collection. She's just too nice to say anything. Maybe next year I will think outside of the box and give her something more practical... her very own babushka nesting dress!