I, uh…was drunk when I wrote the draft of this blog post. It…it was about 50 Shades of Grey. Which…I bought a ticket for on the day before its official opening night, and buy “bought,” I mean: “pre-purchased like 5 weeks in advance.” Anyway, the joke was originally: Hey! I was drunk! What the fuck was I talking about! But it turns out that actually, I totally understand and believe this sentiment and still stand by it, so I’m going to go ahead and post it as-is:

You know how there’s that thing how you want to say onnetflix i liked this movie butit was sexist so recommend accordinfgly

buy the right ticket, but them attend the wrong movie (like a ticket = a VBOTE and i want to vote for a girl walks home alone at night or dear white people and)

i wish yo could say i bought this movie ticket sarcastically YAH

Okay, poll:

Is “This Is Just to Say” fucking dirty as hell or not? I’ve always assumed it was just fiiiiiiillllthy – “So sweet, and so cold?!” Come on William! Frankly, to be super-specific, I’ve even always imagined it was about taking someone’s virginity. You know…the thing they were probably saving…the, um, sweet, forbidden, plum-shaped thing…?


But anyway, like even more generally, it just sounds like they totes did it last night, right??

Anyway, then today someone suggested to me that, you know, maybe not, too.

So. Poll? Filthy? No? Eh?

I was writing this one sentence, and I wanted to check and see if the word “gaped” was, like, a real word? Or if it was an appropriate use of the word to put it in the sentence: “The door was at the end of the hall, gaped wide open?” So I googled the phrase: “gaped wide open.”

I probably shouldn’t have?

If a whole bunch of porn sites are the first and only places which use the phrase you want to use, does that make it more or less likely that you are using the phrase correctly?

I’m a writer!


You know what I don’t like? I don’t like the kind of sushi with shrimp it in where they leave the tail on! How do you even eat that? Answer: You don’t! You have to offer it to the other person, just so you don’t have to futz with it! But then the other person gets your sushi! LAME!

Come on, THINK about it, sushi chefs! Use your head!


Swear to fucking god, this is now a labor of spite.  I hate that this is a list I am forced (by…myself) to continue adding to.  It’s messy!  It’s confusing!  I keep thinking I’ve caught a new one and adding it and then I don’t actually check and make sure it’s new for a million years and then my percentages are ALL MESSED UP AND DAMN YOU, SONGS FOR THE BUTCHER’S DAUGHTER, which I was all excited to see in the author’s bio of a book I was reading, except I already had it on the list so boooooooooo.

Anyway, here’s the newly updated list, for your scholarly study and/or just-for-funsies perusal.  A few fascinating facts about today’s additions:

The Queen’s Governess has a famous typo in it:

(Well.  Okay so I don’t know how faaaaamous that actually is.)

Isley’s been sending in a bunch of good ones! It pays to know librarians.  He sent me this one, which doesn’t count, but is cute anyway:

And this one:

And this one, which I like very much for the use of “A” instead of “The.”  I think he actually sent this one in, and I saved the photo somewhere and forgot about it, and then found it at the library and was all, “YAY NEW ONE,” so I’m just going to go ahead and call this one a tie between him and me.

Shena sent in Mrs Lincoln’s Dressmaker. While I was looking for a photo of it online, I found that the same author had also written Mrs Lincoln’s Rival!  (DO YOU THINK THEY’RE THE SAME PERSON???  I…kind of want to actually find out.  Probably not QUITE enough to read them.)

Only one of these actually counts, but it’s still cute that there are two political memoir-y ones, both sons:

This one’s a movie!  I don’t think it counts or whatever.  But still.

And…aw, I dunno.  This all happened, too:

UGH and goddamnit, but as I was googling The King’s Daughter, to double-check the author (Barbara Kyle, incidentally, who is a very very bad over-user of this fucking trope), I found…other kings daughters.  Like…a lot of them?  This many of them:

  • The King’s Daughter: Hildegard of Bingen, a Medieval Romance – Mary O’Connell
  • The King’s Daughters – B. A. Ramsbottom
  • The King’s Daughter – Suzanne Martel
  • CU The King’s Daughter: Becoming the Woman God Created You to Be - Diana Hagee
  • The King’s Daughter  - Sandra Worth
  • The King’s Daughte – Pansy
  • The King’s Daughter – M.C. Halliday
  • Witch Winnie, the Story of a “king’s Daughter;” – Elizabeth Williams Champney
  • The King’s Daughter – Jarrett Ramey
  • The King’s Daughter and the King’s Son - Agatha Archer
  • Witch Winnie in Paris, or, The king’s daughters abroad – Elizabeth Williams Champney, Cairns Collection of American Women Writers
  • The King’s Daughters – Nathalie Mallet
  • The Naga King’s Daughter - Stewart Wavell
  • Muriel, the Sea-king’s Daughter: And Other Poems – Frederic Edward Weatherly
  • The White King’s Daughter: A Story of the Princess Elizabeth – Emma Marshall
  • Kings’ Daughter  - Unknown
  • The Bean King’s Daughter - Jennifer J. Stewart
  • The King’s Daughters – Emily Sarah Holt
  • Abu’s Choice ; The King’s Daughter: Two Short Plays for Young Players - Ekanem Ikpi Braide
  • The king’s daughter  - King
  • Royal Moments of a King’s Daughter: A 21-Day Spiritual Detox and Devotional - K. B. Jenkins
  • The King’s Daughters: Twelve Erotic Stories - Arnold Wesker
  • Rape of the King Daughter: The Complete Series: Medieval Rape Erotica Forced Consent - Starlight English

I’m not putting them on the list.  I can’t put them on the list.  I’M TOOOOO BOOOOOOOORED TO PUT THEM ON THE LIIIIIIIIST.  (But I was willing to look up the covers to try to make a pretty picture, and in doing so, OBVIOUSLY, I found EVEN MORE OF THEMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Dear authors: PLZ STOP PLZ.  (Especially you, Starlight English.)

Ugh.  God.  I’m quitting.  I’m not doing this anymore.

(…For tonight.)

Tags: ,


Pedro: “See, the WWE is like a fat guy who goes on the internet all the time. It’s…he likes…he trolls really hard all the time.”

Okay, I was hiding in my bedroom long enough, trying to avoid this, that I let them all get drunk. Then I came out to pee and…well, now…

It’s a liveblog, bitches.

Royal Rumble 2015 started with a 30 minute conversation about Columbia/Barnard’s recent Title IX problems, and issues related to how to maintain oneself as a “women’s college” in 2015, when the concept of “gender” is acknowledged as fluid and “No, he’s not the huge guy, he’s the guy with the hernia.” “He’s Samoan. He’s a really nice guy.” “Yeah, he’s a really good dad.”

Oh, Royal Rumble. I missed you.


Pedro: “You wanna know why he lost? He had cancer like a motherfucker.”
Chris: “He had diverticulitis.”
Pedro: “I can’t even have a cold.”


Pedro: “Jessica. Jessica. Let me tell you something about wrestling. They have 30 gentlemen enter the ring…”
Jessica: “Gentlemen?”
Pedro: “I don’t know how polite they are in public. But they have 30 gentlemen enter the ring, and then you throw them over the top rope one by one, and then the winner has the chance at Wrestlemania, which is the biggest show of the year. It’s at San Francisco this year, so it will be colorful. I’ll be honest, not a lot of people pay for these shows.”


Pedro: “You don’t like Brock Lessner? He doesn’t have a lot of his intestine. He’s wrestling. Vincent Kennedy McMahon – yes, that’s his middle name. He’s the owner of the company. He has relations with a lot of young men. That’s just what they say. But a lot of people say that.”
Jessica: “You’re the only person I’ve quoted so far.”
Pedro: “Put my twitter handle: Petethecreep. I don’t put a lot of photos, because I think it’s creepy.”
Jessica: “Why can’t I find Petethecreep on twitter?”
Pedro: “Oh, I’m not on twitter. I’m on instagram.”
Jessica: “Instagram?”
Pedro: “Yeah, people are mean on twitter. I’m on instagram. On twitter, people are like, ‘Oh, you’re a dick.’ I don’t need anybody calling me a dick, man. I’m a human being.”


Pedro: “Man, that’ guy’s blacker than his jeans. And he’s recently a daddy. That’s a nice thing.”

Okay, you know what? Fuck it. I am no longer liveblogging the Royal Rumble. I am only liveblogging Pedro. Just assume that every single thing I write here from now on is just a direct quote from Pedro, okay?

Guess which one is Pedro!!


Rob: “No, he’s gonna be the second black Royal Rumble winner ever.”
Everyone: OH MY GOD The Rock is Samoan and Canadian.
Rob: “Since when is ‘Canadian’ a race!?”
Casey: “First there was a black president, now we’re giving you a black Royal Rumble winner.”
Other Pedro: “We’re about ready for a black Royal Rumble winner.”
Casey: “I would have voted so hard for Obama if he was [a Royal Rumble Winner].”

(Okay, that’s not how he finished that sentence. But this was funnier.)


Pedro: “Just to explain this, Jessica, this guy used to work for an underground wrestling company called ECW. And they had flaming talbes and barbed wire. And they used to wrestle in Philadelphia. And that’s why they love him. He almost killed himself. Have you seen his calves? The best calves in wrestling.”
Casey: “Nooooo.”
Pedro: “YES. The best calves in wrestling.”


Pedro: “Have you met Bully Ray? He is such a nice man.”

Pedro and Other Pedro –


Jessica: “What’s a U-S-O-S?”
Pedro: “Jessica, I’ll let you know when a Usos appears.”

God, I fucking love Pedro.


Pedro: “Aw, poor guy. He got kissed on the forehead.”
Jessica: “That’s nice.”
Pedro: “I don’t want to get kissed on the forehead by some stranger.”
Jessica: “They’re not strangers; they’re co-workers.”
Pedro: “All of my co-workers are strangers.”


Okay, both sushi and Jorn have arrived. You hold on a minute….


My first wrestler just walks in! His name is Adam! He is explained to be as “If Andrew WK went evil.”

Pedro: “He’s actually a very nice person. I met him and his girlfriend once. Lovely people.”

Annnnnnd then he immediately got thrown out.


My other person will be the 29th to walk into the ring.

Pedro: “Statistically, not likely to win.”


Jessica: “Who’s that?”
Pedro: “He eats a lot, and he has pinkeye. And there’s only two ways to get pinkeye. Not washing yourself, and taking it in the eye. You’re not supposed to take fecal matter to the eye.


Rob: “I don’t like Kane post-mask. He’s just a tall fat guy.”
Other Pedro: “But, like, Kane in khanis, and a mask? Kane doing anything, in a mask? Kane, like, at a meeting, in a mask? ‘Here’s your MBA, Mr Kane.’”


Everyone: “AWWWWWWWW!!! Titus O’Neil!!!”
Jessica: “What! Who’s Titus O’Neil!?”
Pedro: “He’s a very good father; that’s what he is.”


Oh, Bad News Barrett is VERY handsome. Everyone keeps telling me he’s a bad guy, but I like him and his cape QUITE A BIT. He may be my new crush, now that Daniel Bryan lost already.


#29 walks out! It’s my dude! It’s BIG SHOW! EVERYONE IS VERY EXCITED!!!

Jessica, shouting loudly across the screaming room: “Chris! Chris! Am I gonna win?!?”
Chris: Sadly shakes head no.



Or wait maybe cheating counts? I…I don’t know…?

Oh god and things are happening so fast and



Roman Raines WINNNNNSSSS!!! Yay, for CASEY!


Pedro: “Okay, I’m leaving. I don’t believe in guys with long hair.”


P.S. –
Pedro: “Stephanie McMahon is a wonderful wife to that man.”

Overheard in Henry James:

“Does she strike you as awfully pretty?”
“As pretty as a pretty song! I took a tremendous notion to her.”
“She’s only a child – for mercy’s sake don’t show your notion too much!” Mrs Beaver ejaculated.

Sooooo I’m no linguist or nothing; I don’t know exactly in what sort of way ribald double-entendres worked in 1896. And anyway this seems like one of those serious, morally disapproving sorts of oldie books, rather than the comedically-pointing-out-social-foibles ones. But uh.

How much, if any, of that was on purpose?

(But no really. Tony Bream knows what I’m talking about, though, right? With his bright stare and still brighter alacrity?

Tony Bream gave his bright stare; after which, with his still brighter alacrity, “I see what you mean: of course I won’t!” he declared.

Yeah, sure, Tony. Suuurre.)


so good.

Another in my series of periodic misty-eyed embarrassing rants about how much I <3 NY:

So, first of all, let it be known that mid-January, between 7-7:30am (specifically, for instance, let’s say: Jan 16 at 7:23am) is a particularly pretty time of day/year for the view from the Manhattan Bridge on the N train. You kind of are getting that weird neon-salmon-pinky-orange reflection on the buildings that looks like Miami, but also the blue reflections on the super-glass buildings is the exact same color as the sky behind it, so they just look sort of invisible, and the sun isn’t quite hitting them right-on, so it’s not all painful to look at or anything. Good job, sun + New York!

Also, on the train this morning, there was a lady with a big-ass baby strapped to her torso, sort of like dangling off of her, facing outward. It was wearing a pink hat with little bear ears, and also was all encased in a brown baby-shaped, like, jumper-thing?, which also had a hood with bear-ears on it. So it was double-bear-eared! And it was very INTERESTED in things, and sort of very seriously inspecting everyone around it, and was very surprised at all of these people, but in a solemn, scientific sort of way. And EVERY GODDAMNED PERSON ON THE TRAIN WAS SMILING AT IT. Everyone. Every. One. Or maybe they were smiling because everyone else was smiling? But EVERYONE was smiling. And no one ruined it by saying anything. Everyone was sort of bashful and half-looking-away but then sneaking glances back again. It was so good.

Also, on Thursday, I was running suuuuuuper late for work, and there was this meeting pretty early that I was supposed to be there for, and I said I’d stop at this nice bakery on the way and get these good mini-muffins they have there (they have gluten-free stuff, and a lady I like in my office is gluten-free, and they also have these totally decent mini-croissants, and the meeting was with this French group we’re doing stuff with). But, again: suuuuuuuper-late. So, instead, I sort of frantically stopped into the little bakery that’s between my apartment and the subway, where I get coffee every morning, and I grabbed whatever plastic box of stale cupcakes or whatever they happened to have sitting there, and I realized I did not have any cash, and they do not take cards. So I looked sad, and the lady said: “Maybe you’ll pay me tomorrow.”

UGH, SO NICE! I LOVE it when this happens. Actually, that lady totally knows me, but I love it also when this happens with STRANGERS! I was at one of the magazine stands in like the 34th Street station one day and wanted to buy a bottle of Starbucks iced coffee or whatever those are, and only had one dollar instead of two, and the dude was just like: “Eh, that’s fine. Close enough.” He didn’t even suggest that (maybe!) I would pay him later! He certainly had never seen me before – it was not my regular subway station. SO NICE! (And I totally took it, but while I was waiting for the train, I dug around in my purse and ended up finding four quarters to give him, anyway, so it worked out. And I totally did remember to pay the lady at my bakery the next day, too. I take that shit VERY seriously. You have GOT to remember to pay that shit back.)

Anyway, the mini muffin/cupcake/things were terrible! Just HORRIBLE. I do NOT recommend them. But at least they were there!

So. New York!


So remember how I was threatening to do nothing but post scans of embarrassing things I found in my old storage writing / diaries / things? Well, THIS IS NOT THAT. Because THIS is a notebook full of drawings I made when I apparently decided to illustrate lines from “Angel.” I have no idea what year this is from, but it had to have been Providence, I guess? (I was doing a lot of this kind of thing at the time…I also have like three notebooks full of illustrated quotes from this one student/faculty meeting I had to go to once a week at work. They’re GREAT but no one except the 15 people who were at all of those meetings would get it. I should donate them to the Brown library. Like, without a note. Just, you know, mail them a little cardboard box and then sit back and wait for them to name a building after me.) Actually, maybe the embarrassing thing about this is how un-creative it is. These aren’t hilarious interpretations of these lines. I think a lot of them are actually just sort of what happened in the show? Except…now in Jessica-cartoon form? Well, also-embarrassing is that at least one is totally mean and sexist. And ALSO-also-embarrassing is that I believe these are out of order, but I’m too lazy to go back and re-order them now, so SORRY, GUYZ. And also-also-also embarrassing is the fact that I sat around and watched Angel and drew cartoons about it.

Anyway. Here’s Angel, illustrated:

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