You Will Never Be Cured

We have this narrative that all you have to do to be a Good Human is figure out how to keep your house clean, capitalize on your education, utilize your left and right brain, forgive assholes, know the state capitals, “experiment” but not so it’s weird, have well behaved dogs, good smelling hair, sweaters that don’t pill, a calm and soothing voice but also a commanding manly voice, one pair of comfortable designer shoes, a watch your mom didn’t give you, healthy teeth, and a tattoo you got on a whim but still looks really cool 15 years later.

That’s totally a lie.

I recently had an experience where I made a joke about my anxiety and got 25 different suggestions on what I should do to fix me. Which is great. It means that you guys love me enough to tell me this stuff, but I also saw a pattern in the comments and I have something to say about it.

There’s nothing wrong with me.

And there’s nothing wrong with you either. We are functioning at peak performance for this moment. If we want something else, we can do something else, and then different things will happen. Different than what’s happening now, different than we expected, even.

There’s no magical switch that will turn you from who you are into someone worthwhile because you are already worth everything you will ever be worth. You were born worthy, you will die worthy regardless of any external factors.

If you decided to become a master carpenter or a physicist or get really good at coping with your depression or if you do nothing, help no one, and die alone, you are worth the same. It’s only a matter of preference and comfort.

Stop stressing out over being a good enough human. Stop thinking that the solution to your “problem” is over the next hill. A bullet journal will not cure you because there is nothing to cure you from.

There is no right way to be a person. There is only the way you choose.

Dog Questions

Why is it that we have to spell every other word that has anything to do with food or exercise in this house, but the dog still doesn’t understand that you can not be under a blanket you’re currently sitting on top of. 

Why is it the dog knows enough to indicate which thing she wants on a long list of things (walk, dinner, blankie, ups, outside etc.), but not enough to go to the thing she wants as a short cut. Or even look at it. She stares at me until I name the thing and then does a little ‘yes, that’s the thing’ dance.

Why does the dog hate men carrying things? Man alone = okay, whatever. Man + shelf = bark bark bark death death death oh my fucking god death I said.

Oh Hi Monday. Didn’t See You There.

  • If you click on the Erotica Reviews link in the menu, it now leads to a completely different website, This is because, after more than a year of not writing any reviews at all, I’ve decided to start back again and to double down on them being their own thing and hopefully upping the SEO game by having the site’s keywords all about doin’ it.
  • I started watching Season 11 of Supernatural. I’m in the middle of episode 12 right now. Sam’s total and complete lack of deviousness is going to kill those boys one day… again.
  • Final inspection on our house is today. So that’s not equal parts terrifying and amazing like a unicorn dick or anything.
  • I have decided that I am voting for Measure 97, an extremely poorly written piece of tax law that promises to cripple big business in Oregon. Proponents say that the issues will be fixed in the legislature, but there’s no way that’s happening because assuming they were at all competent (they’re not) any “fix” the legislature would make would drastically drop funding, which they would never do even if we were all dying of starvation. So why vote for it? Because fuck big business and their cock-sucking lap dogs is why. I’m about 0.05% joking right now. The city’s big idea this election cycle was to give developers a cool $265 million so they can build roughly 13 apartments for poor people. Eat dicks, the rich!

Stop Telling People to Call Their Parents.


I found this on a blog post called “How Not to Be a Garbage Human” and there’s no way I’m linking to that trash. Also it was a promoted post and I can’t find it again.

There’s also a podcast I used to listen to where the host told people to call their mom at the end of he show, but that’s recently changed to “call your person” so it sounds like other people wrote the email I was to tired to write, so thanks guys.

It’s fucking mean to tell people to call their parents. And not just people like me who have an estranged relationship with one or more of them. Parents also die, get Alzheimers, sink into depression and on and on.

Basically, its a garbage human move to assume everybody is like you and has access to parents.

How to be a #NastyWoman

Tell people about yourself. Specifically how great you are.

Fashion don’t? More like Fashion don’t give a fuck what you shitlords think.

Fuck. However you like. With whomever you like.

Call out rapists and their rape-apologist bros.

Don’t ask. Tell.

Get shit done.

Be unapologetically, blissfully ugly.

Speak truth to power. And liars.

Say no when you mean no.

And yes when you mean yes.

Always #BossBitch. #BossBitch always.

Reject trans-exclusionary feminism

Reject white racist feminism

Don’t back down. No matter what they call you.

Just 1:38am Things

  • I’m listening to Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s audiobook In My Own Words and true to title, they actually do have recordings of speeches she’s given. Which would be great except that she is a far far better writer than than she is a speaker, and at least one of the recordings is 16 straight minutes of murmuring and coughing punctuated by an early 2000s iPhone ringing over and over while Ruth may or may not be talking somewhere in the distant background. It’s as if it was recorded on the cell phone of the woman sitting next to the ass with the iPhone he can’t turn the fuck off. Otherwise it’s good. 
  • I started watching Smallville after I was thoughtlessly coerced into taking three vaccines at the same time a couple weeks ago and literally could not move one arm for an entire day in addition to being totally feverish and gross. I have nothing to say about it really (except the standard please stop making women into property, or plot door stoppers and the not so standard ‘holy shit, for 2002 this is crazy feminist omg’)
  • While I was all vaccine sick I had a fever and when it broke I dreamt/hallucinated that I turned into a million tiny cubes of Turkey and I was delicious and instead of being horrified (I don’t even like turkey that much) I was elated and it was wonderful. 

Things I Learned on Google: “Calaveras”

We’ve already established that I am a totally crap Mexican. Therefore, I end up Googling my own cultural history more often than not and this is one of those times. Since it’s Halloween again this year and I am, once again, in the great white North, I decided to arm myself with a little education for the coming storm. And no, white friends I have absolutely no authority to say whether or not your calaveras make-up is racist, except that it probably is and no, I don’t get to make the rules. You do. Which is why it’s racist. (More about that here)

Anyway, while Googling I learned some things about the Mexican sugar skull that everybody else probably knows, but I didn’t and so here they are.

  • Sugar is not native to Mexico. It was brought to the country with colonization, and was used instead of clay by the poor native Mexicans who had an abundance of sugar but no money for expensive statues or figurines for their Day of the Dead alters. [Source]
  • Other Catholic countries celebrate the two days after Halloween as All Souls Day and All Saints Day, but the European versions of this holiday are not the same owing to the fact that indigenous Mexicans melded aspects of their traditional Day of the Dead and the Catholic holiday of vaguely similar theme. [Source]
  • The Day of the Dead can be traced back to a celebration of the Aztec goddess Mictecacihuatl, the Lady of the Dead who was said to have been sacrificed to the underworld as an infant where she grew to adulthood in death. [Source]
  • This is a two day holiday, with the first day dedicated to all the children who have died, and the second to all the adults. Despite this sad theme, the tone of the holiday is bright and happy since our dead relatives are with us again.
  • The celebration is most common in Central and South Mexico, and wasn’t celebrated or even well known in the Northern region until migration brought the tradition in the 20th century. [Source]
  • The phrase “Dia de los Muertos” is actually an anglophone back-translation of “Day of the Dead” into Spanish from English. The proper way to say this holiday’s name is “Dia de Muertos

I’m sure about half of this is wrong. Although it does actually make me feel a little better that I have no clue about the Day of the Dead. By all accounts, my family is from Baja and moved to America in the 20th century. Although those accounts, like me, are probably crap so who even knows.

Fall Intensifies

Tonight I ate pumpkin spice mochi ice cream and I am not sorry, because it was hella good.


I was worried that the ice cream would be overly sweet, but it wasn’t. It was spice forward, abut also took the time to showcase the pumpkin, which a lot of pumpkin pie flavored stuff fails to do.

Otherwise, it was your standard mochi, chewey and delicious.

10/10 would pumpkin again.


“I, Spartacus Jones, challenge you, Ebinezer McScruffins to a duel. You have spread your filthmusk upon my tree for the last time, you son of an acorn fucker.”

“Jones, you have proven yourself to be nothing but a virulent rabies infected rat, you have no right to this tree or even this leafy golden branch. Prepare yourself for furry death!!”

“I am about to murder you, fiend!”

“Wrong again, beast, it is I who will murder you!”

“Mommy! Mommy the squirrels are squeaking!”

“Yes baby, isn’t it adorable.”

Jake and Jessica – Girl Talk

Chapter 7: Girl Talk

Chapter 1 – The Annihilator (NSFW -Explicit sex)
Chapter 2 – The Annihilator is Dead
Chapter 3 – It Was a Good Day
Chapter 4 – The Jake Must Go On
Chapter 5 – A Daring Rescue
Chapter 6 – Sweet Brothings

“But what about Kelsey?”

Jessica had nearly forgotten that she’d only told the Marco story in order to distract from talking about Kelsey. Jake wasn’t going to let it go. She sighed.

Seeing her reluctance, he thought better of pushing. “You don’t have to tell me, if it’s a thing. I was just curious.” Her nervousness before the game that day had come as a total surprise to him.

“No.” Jessica said. She searched for words. “It’s just sort of delicate. I guess.”

Jake waited for her to elaborate. She scrambled for another distraction.

“Remember when you dated that sorority girl from Texas that called you Chocolate?”

“Oh Gross.” Jake had nearly forgotten the embarrassment of the girl they called the Chocoholic. She’d been obsessed with his blackness. She said some of the dumbest things any person had ever said to him from assuming that he didn’t know his father to reminding him multiple times that her dad would try and kill him with increasing levels of seriousness and creepiness. He’d dumped her quickly and quietly when she’d crossed the line and called him a ‘my negro.’ It still bothered him that he’d ever thought that her behavior was anything close to okay.

Of course, he’d read the blogs. He realized that he shouldn’t be ashamed of himself, only of her, but he couldn’t help feeling like an idiot for falling for it even once. Being reduced to nothing more than a caricature and having gone along with it in any way was something he didn’t like to dwell on.

“Oh God, Jess, is Kelsey a racist?”

“No!” she snorted a laugh. “Dude, she’s literally color blind.”

“Uh huh. You ever wonder how it is that people who call themselves ‘color blind’ so frequently tend to only know white people and only hire white people?”

“Oh yeah, and they’re all like ‘I don’t see color.’” Jess said that last bit with a snotty accent that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

“You don’t see color because you don’t have any people of color anywhere around you and you’ve made sure it stays like that!” Jake told the imaginary racist. “But seriously” he said “What does the Chocoholic have to do with your girl?”

Jess put her face in her hands. She’d completely forgotten that they’d nick-named her The Chocoholic. She’d gone after every black dude in their frat. She’d even hit on Aditya, but lost interest when he gently but firmly explained that he wasn’t her type. “Man” she said “We were so shitty to that girl.”

Jake objected. She was, after all, a racist. Jess said that the way they reacted to her racism was a perfect example of toxic masculinity and that rather than giving her a racist nickname in it’s own right, they should have shut her out in other ways. Eventually, they agreed intersectionality is a thing, and they were back to the subject of Kelsey.

Jess hesitated. So much of this wasn’t hers to talk about. “You ever date a girl with… stuff?”

“What, like a penis?” Jake asked

Jess laughed. No, that would be easy.

“Actually” she said “Kelsey is cis. We met through the Ladies Auxiliary because her dad is trans. He couldn’t come today but they usually come to stuff together. He was a single parent, so she’s pretty protective of him. Likes to support him and everything.”

Jake crooked an eyebrow. “But the” he asked while gesturing at his own face when he couldn’t remember the words.

“Cis women can be color blind too Jake, God.”

“Shit, sorry. I don’t know medical things. So what do you mean? What is ‘stuff?’”

“Like trauma, like a history.”

“She got beat?”

“And way worse. Like sexual trauma stuff.”

“Oh shit.” Jake’s eyes were wide. “I guess that’s why her dad raised her alone?”

“Yeah” Jess said without elaborating. Kelsey had told her after their third date that she wanted to talk. At the time, Jess was terrified that she was about to get the let down, but Kelsey explained that she’d been molested and she had some ground rules Jess had to follow if they wanted to keep dating each other. She’d been over-joyed not to be dumped. But she also felt a new level of responsibility to her girlfriend.

Jake thought about it. A few of the girls he’d been with had told him about things from their past. One ex was date-raped by a guy she thought was her best friend, another had been molested by her nanny. Every girl had stories of people who’d tried to take advantage of them in different ways. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t usually date women long enough to learn that much about them. He told Jess as much.

Jess told him about the ground rules talk. Jake said he thought that was a pretty mature approach. Privately, he wondered what he’d say if he had a ground rules talk.

“Not to sound insensitive” Jake said, “but what’s the big deal, I mean you both kind of have… stuff.”

“Fuck. Why does everybody think I was molested?” Jess answered.

Jake laughed at first, but got serious when she shot him an angry look and he quickly clarified that he didn’t mean that. He’d done his homework after Jess came out. He knew all about dysphoria. Of course, just as he was patting himself on the back about it, She informed him that some transpeople don’t really experience dysphoria and that she was one of them.

“Okay, this is going to sound like a dumb question, but if you don’t have dysphoria how do you know you’re trans?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Are you serious, dude? How do you know your gender if you don’t feel bad about it? Come on.”

“Point taken” Jake said “But I’ve never heard of that.”

Jess looked sheepish. “I don’t talk about it much because I’ve had a lot of people react badly.” The first time she’d told a therapist that she didn’t feel dysphoric, the woman had answered with a blunt ‘Then why are you here?’ Thankfully, she had good enough insurance to find another therapist and fast, but a lot of other people weren’t so lucky.

“Kelsey has panic attacks” she told Jake “And she used to cut herself. I have no idea how I’m supposed to deal with that, dude.’

Jake laughed. Jess didn’t seem amused but he raised an eyebrow and replied to her silent judgement. “That’s kinda ironic, though, right?”

“Oh fuck you, dude.”

“Weren’t we right here having this same exact conversation this morning?’ Jake asked “You’re not obligated to her now that you know this about her, but if you like her, you figure it out even if it’s awkward, right?”

Jess nodded.

“I bet you she knows how to deal with her shit better than you do, am I right?”

Jess nodded again.

“Take it from me” Jake told her “She’ll let you know. Just don’t be an ass.”