Welcome to Hell

Welcome to hell. Please take a number. Her Evilness will be with you when she damn well feels like it.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

competition time... who can name it best??

i've been deviously slaving away over in my branch of blogdom, creating new debauchery.

now, i'm looking for a name for this brand-new comic strip i'm going to be debuting in the next few months...

keep in mind this is only a preview strip - i haven't really started in on plot & all that shit yet.
and since i'm a writer, naturally i'm going to obsess over plot and make everything "perfect" before i embark upon this project.
but i've been cracking myself up, and i wanted to share just a taste with you guys.

but before i can have plotlines and such, i need a name for this strip.

now, keep in mind:  this strip is SO not all about cheerleaders.  it involves gay girls of all stripes...

so yeah.

who's got a brilliant name for a comic about lesbian barbies??

there may be a prize involved.  definitely all suggestions will be posted on the blog.
okay, GO!

Friday, January 28, 2011


i have strange things in store for you, my minions.  consider this a "i don't know how to delete a test post" post.  i've been plotting some things (muahahah) and testing new software, and NO i'm not gonna tell you why yet. 

because it will be a delicious surprise, oh yes.

Monday, January 10, 2011


i am currently nursing a headache (from a lump on my head), a skinned elbow, and a contusion on my right shin. 

why, you ask???

see what had happened wuz...

tonight (as in the 10th) is The Matt's birthday.   so we went out to one of our favorite bars, and then came back, very much not sober. 

scene:  we're standing in the kitchen, and matt has that gleam in his eye.  the gleam that says, my cold hands are about to be up your shirt in 3, 2, 1...
(keep in mind these two things:  1.  i was wearing a cashmere sweater.  so that means it's not washable.  2.  i am allergic to cats)

matt is going in for the hug/grope:  i say, "hey, no, this is a  nonwashable sweater!  i know that jacket has cat hair on it!"  (because he just picked up the cat 5 seconds ago...)

matt shucks jacket.

me:  "well, that shirt has cat hair too, i know it must!"  (in a dramatic tone)

matt shucks shirt.

me:  "but your PANTS!"

matt pantomimes taking off pants.
he also starts y'know, groping.  up the shirt like.  with his jeans all over my (large, long, baggy Cashmere Unwashable) sweater
i say, "hey!!  if you're gonna do that, then i'ma stick a finger up your butt..."  while i shove my hand down the back of his pants, and wiggle my finger.

now a normal guy here would, say, laugh or say "Don't DO that!!!" or.. something reasonable and rational.  most of them laugh at me, because they know it's an IDLE threat - i would never do something that's non-consensual.  and the rest of them... well, they liked having fingers up their butt. 

matt, however, is either the most paranoid motherfucker i know, or he's just nuts, but what actually happened was he did this weird judo-throw move while twisting, which resulting in both of us crashing down to the floor - but not before my elbow hit the (metal) shelf, his ENTIRE weight landed on my right shin, and my head hit the door (we were in the kitchen here, so my back door).  i think he bonked his head (twice) AFTER we both landed on the floor. 

have you ever been simultaneously in a large amount of pain, AND laughing hysterically, even though it hurts your head? 

so yeah, that was my night, how was yours??
i hope it was good.
because my head fucking HURTS!!!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

why i love my roommates, past and present

this is a comment that my former roommate and camping buddy from Portland (Dave, hello!) left, regarding the previous post, on my facebook page.

i decided it was so fucking epic that it needed to be shared.

"When I was nineteen, twenty, I worked as a car parker at some of long Island's finest Wedding and Bar Mitzvah establishments.
These are places that have rabbis, but no congregations, just catering facilities. Lots of pinks and mauve in the decor, with huge, tasteless crystal chandeliers.
Most of the brides and grooms were so high on cocaine that they had no idea what they were doing, and the best man often tipped us teenagers with a snow seal. (Ah, the affluent NY community in the early 80's.)
As an outsider working the gig, it was painfully obvious that at least 8 out of ten couples were completely incompatible, as were their families.
My all time favorite was the Italian, Jewish wedding where the two families set up in hostile camps on opposite sides of the ballroom. The obviously pregnant bride was wearing a white stretch polyester gown, with white powder caught in her untrimmed nose hairs. The groom, drunk as well as coked out, made a clutching, grabbing pass at her younger sister. Classy.
Thank you Satan, for bringing back fond memories."

writing about weddings like a weirdo obsessed high schooler?  possibly strange.  but garnering THIS story, in doing so???
definitely PRICELESS.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

meditations on getting hitched

there's something about working wedding gigs that just gets me thinking some really strange shit.
stuff like "ohmigod that is the ugliest fucking flower arrangement i have EVER seen, i would never be tacky enough to put that shit at my wedding."

yep, that's pretty ugly.

and "who did that fucking lopsided cake??!?!?"  ::gets bakery info, writes DO NOT EVER ORDER FROM HERE beside it::

believe it nor not, i have seen some really large professional cakes that looked worse than this one - leaning more, and fucked up decoration... yeah.  getting a good baker is essential if you're going for the expensive monster cake deal, otherwise just save your money and get a damn sheet cake or cupcakes or something.

i want something all pretty that looks like this, i want it to be red velvet cake too, because that is my absolute FAVORITE, with some fondant icing because that shit is DELICIOUS:

only a lot bigger.  because you can NEVER have too much cake.  plus you gotta save the top layer to eat on your first anniversary nom from the freezer at 4 am with a fork. 

a lot of wedding work comes down to flattery, if you're me.  if you compliment the bride, she won't have a chance to be mad at you for anything, even if it is taking FOR-FUCKING-EVER to print some pictures out of the photobooth because your printers all fucked up simultaneously.

"your dress is soooooo gorgeous!!!" often equals "you may have money, but money CAN'T buy taste," in mel-speak.

 i'm pretty sure dresses like this flatter absolutely no one.  especially if you are about as big around as my broom handle and have chosen a damn fishtail skirt - way to make yourself look even more anorexic!  yay!!!
::end cynicism::

of course, i'm not always critiquing absolutely everything.  i appreciate a tasteful wedding reception.  the one i worked today was a "happily ever after" theme, which sounds hurl-worthy, but it was actually tastefully done.  there was a white chocolate castle on the top of their (not lopsided, very pretty, covered in real flowers) cake.  plus some of their floral arrangements were so fucking huge it took two people to carry that shit inside.  AND the bride arrived in a freaking cinderella open coach thing.  pretty cool.

this bride had great taste, especially in the dress.  and she was also considerate enough to hike her wedding a few months ahead of the original date, when it was confirmed her sister's due date was close to the original date.  sweet.  (which is also why everything was in spring colors, in january...)

it's interesting to be behind the scenes while stuff like this is still setting up.  it's all frantic and crazy and then BOOM! perfect wedding stuffs.

i always end up there early and even when it all starts, it's kinda tacky to sit there and read a novel while i'm bored and all the guests are there, but they're eating the yummy free food and boozing.  so i end up thinking about what the fuck i would do if i got married, since there's all kinds of wedding vomiting all over my surroundings.

to this end, i end up sending texts like this:

mel:  i know you're hardly the traditional guy, but... random question.  do you think the guy "should" buy the engagement ring?  or is that something to buy dutch?

matt:  what is dutch??  traditionally yes, but i think that depends on the relationship.

mel:  dutch = going in on it together.  i was asking you what you would potentially do.  this is how i amuse myself when i'm bored, thinking up random crap.

matt:    i would probably get it myself.

mel:  just idly curious.

contrary to how this conversation might appear, i'm NOT fishing for an engagement ring, which Matt thankfully knows, since otherwise i think he'd be backing up with his fingers in a cross shape in front of him.  (get thee back, Satan!!!)
if Matt asked me to marry him right now, i'd ask him for a fucking year or two to think about it.  and it's not like i don't like/love him or anything.

but i find it hard to think about what i would consider to be "the sign" of wanting to do something like get married.  maybe i'm a cynic, maybe i've had too many breakups and bad relationships, but i don't usually expect things to last.  i'm happily surprised when they do.  so to me, two years of dating is not much.  maybe in 5 years of dating, i would have a clue if i wanted to get married to someone. maybe.  i'm still not sold on the whole marriage idea, frankly.  (until gay marriage becomes legal, and then i might marry a lady JUST TO DO IT.  of course, i would need the right lady.)
; ]

my reticence to get married has nothing to do with how much i like sparkly rocks, though.  i already have a ring i wear on "the wedding ring finger"  because i have a fucking history, okay, and i've been engaged and had to give back my SHINY SPARKLY ROCKS and swore to myself after that, i'd get myself my own damn diamonds that i'd never have to give back to any dickhole if i decided i didn't like him anymore.  and since my grandmother had given me a diamond cluster ring when she died, i got that sucker reset.  (i can't wear clusters, big jewelry or high settings - on my teeny fingers it looks like grandma jewelry.  ironic, and also appropriate.)   now, it looks like this:

(that looks awfully dirty in that picture... maybe i should clean it.  it's probably been a while.   >_<)
i don't intend to ever stop wearing it, so i would like ring(s!!!) that i can stack with it.  like this, my current (OMG DROOOOL) find on etsy - conveniently antique (art deco), exactly my size, and perfect.  
and oh-so out of my budget, big time.  : [

i also think about dresses.  because like many girls, i am hardly immune to the siren song of a purty dress.  i also really hate white.  frankly, it makes me look pasty and fat if i wear it, no matter how skinny or not i might be at the time.  my skin doesn't get along with it.  i myself am far too white to carry it off.

and of course, i fancy myself a rebel or something, and i don't want to ever get married in white.  not only do i SO not qualify for a "white wedding" (SNERK), i also find it to be lacking in imagination.  actually i find most weddings to be very lacking in imagination.

(everyone does the same fucking thing, and since i see a fuckton of weddings, i'm a pretty good judge of what "everyone" is doing.  right now, that thing is photobooths, among other things, making Matt and i some money.  sweet.)

not that i'm judging you if you want that whole white dress thing.  (okay maybe i am a little, but whatever, you don't have to please me with your fucking wedding, yo.)

i sat there for about an hour thinking about what i'd want my own wedding dress to look like.  hell, i had a hour to kill.  what the fuck else do you think about at a wedding?  well, bad bands or djs, you can think about that too.  but i try to tune them out if they suck.

so yeah, i was designing a dress in my head.  i'm thinking green, maybe a green-blue material.  something like a combo of the left two colors, perhaps?  hell, all of these are purty.

i definitely want it to be made of silk.  the nubby kind, i think it looks cool.
ooh, i just found a great silk color (& there are a ton of others just as pretty but i won't torture you with them):

i want straps because i don't want to be hiking the damn thing over my tits all night, but i also want the thing to be nearly backless because i want to show off my tattoos.  have y'all seen the tattoos on my back?  well, here's a picture. 

(and for the record, NO, THEY ARE NOT ANGEL WINGS.  they are black and tattered for fuck's sake, what kind of bloody angel..... no, i'm not bitter.  why do you ask???
they are raven wings.  you know, like the bird?

 if i had a fucking dollar for every truly terrible  "angel" pickup line i've ever been forced to endure, i would be a fucking millionaire by now.)

anyway.  i figure that a halter would do nicely.  a thin halter strap with a plunging V neckline in front.
 so i've imagined a green dress, halter V neckline, plunging V in back, and i also want a split skirt.

this is kinda what i have in mind, only more to the side, and cut a bit higher or something.
the underskirt will be cream, a dark rich tone something like this:

maybe a bit darker.  i don't fucking know!  i would maybe draw this shit but i can't draw.

THEN i saw some lady walking by in this cool skirt with black velvet patterns on it, and i thought "Black!  i need some black."  because i love black.  black and green are my favorite colors (with blue coming in a close second), so i swear all this makes sense, somehow, in my crazy brain.  so then i decided i needed thin black velvet trim along the split part of the skirt, and also the neckline/straps/backline.
it will match the black heels i'll want to wear.  because really, white heels??? could anything stain any quicker than white shoes?  shudder.

okay, i drew it.  obviously i can't draw, but you get the damn idea.

yeah, like i said.  i had nothing better to do.  then i started thinking, who the fuck would do a custom dress in silk and not charge me like $4,000,000 for it?  sooooo....

mel:  random question:  if i got married would you be willing to make/help me make my dress?
...i'm working a wedding photobooth gig.  obviously, i'm bored.

mom:  sure!!!

at least my mom loves me.  and thankfully, knows how to operate a sewing machine.  i could probably do it all by myself, but it might look a little wonky (i have this bad habit of sewing with no pattern whatsoever), and take me like three fucking years.  it takes FOREVER to sew by hand. 

so yeah.  now that i've hit you with my random obsession of the day, don't judge me please don't think i'm usually all wedding obsessed, and unfunny.
i strive, yearn, strain for the funny.

actually i think all this shit really IS pretty funny.  because really what matters is the whole relationship - not one damn day.

if/when i get married, i can tell you what there won't be:  there will be no church, no seriousness, no old, judgmental relatives- but there will be fun.
oh yes, there will be fun.  there will be an outdoor ceremony/reception.  there will be lots of booze, and really good beer.  there will be delicious expensive champagne for me, and cheap champagne for everyone else (unless i really, really love you, then i might share mine).  there will be a bonfire.  there will be people passing out everywhere.  if it's done right, there will be nakedness, and people fucking here and there in the dark.   hopefully all my poly partners will all be there, with their (hopefully accepting) families.
most of all, there will be joy, and freedom, and silliness.

life is way too short to do what everyone else wants you to do.  i plan on having the best party i've ever thrown.  and if we all aren't massively hung over by morning, we've just got to keep going!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


nah, i'm going to draw this out.  more fun for me.

but first, a picture of me, in the hat i'm about to use for the hat drawing...
yes, i own a freaking top hat.  it's because i'm so much cooler than you my dad is an antiques dealer and gives me random shit ALL THE TIME.  which, naturally, i find fantastic.  

note my freaking FANTASTIC shirt, it's the shit.
and yeah, that weird poky thing over there on my hip is my knife, i swear my hips are not square shaped.  at least, not like that.

hat, with occasional mac.
(a billion gold stars to anyone who knows what i'm referencing with that line!!! Dave, you'll get this one.  : ] )

everyone who signed up for the contest gets rattled around...

...by the Matt... that's why his hands are blurry here, he's shaky-shaky-shakin' that hat!!!

...and ironically enough, Matt pulled Matt.  my Matt didn't win, but this Matt did!!!

congrats, Matt!
here's pics of your brand-new lighter:

now all i need from you is to email me (that'll be on the sidebar over there), so you can give me an address, so's i can mail your lighter to you.  congrats and stuff!!! 

i like doing this, maybe i should do giveaways more often, eh??

: ]

happy belated new years eve, y'all. this is what i did. what did YOU do???

 i took adorable pictures of the cats, which will soon be up on my redbubble...

you have no idea how hard it is to get these fuckers to sit still.

i also colored some more  and discovered the difference between generic crayons, and Crayola crayons. 

the one on the left is the generics, the one on the right is crayola.  closeups:

see that?  shitty coverage & clumping, yo.  bad news.

and this is all nice and smooooooth...  i'm never using any crayon that isn't crayola, ever again.
because i'm just faintly OCD like that.

for new years eve, we got together with a group of people and (stupid us) walked down to the french quarter, because some of us were bloody tourists (shakes fist) and haaad to go to the french quarter on a crazy night...  well, we got good crab legs, so that counts for something. 

as we walked down, we went by the LaLaurie House, thought to be one of the most haunted in the city.  i don't know about that myself, but i do have a friend who will seriously not even walk on that side of the street when she goes past it.  she is straight up freaked out by the place - and i happen to know for sure that she has no idea what the hell went on in it.

doodle i found in the bar


my contribution to the doodleboard (which reads, "Holy Shit! World ends in 1 year! (happy 2011)"

and there were many daiquiris had by... well, me.  only one of those is not mine, and it's the small one.  actually we were in the daiquiri place at midnight, so had to endure bad bar countdown type activities.  also there was a cop posted and i was almost afraid he wouldn't let us take our daiquiris outside the bar, but psssh, i was so wrong, and that place has a freakin' drive through anyway, so i really shouldn't have bothered worrying.  we should have gone through the drive-thru.  just for the tourists. 

then we lit shit on fire, and it was awesome.

and of course, we had obligatory sparklers!!  because that is what you do with leftover fireworks from july 4, when you're in the south.  you light them the fuck up for new years.

 aaand, you have a sparkler war, too.  if you're awesome.  we are awesome.

i'm totally rocking my NOLA and Saints Pride hashtag shirt, plus my raverkid hoodie and glowstick, thinking, "damn, i should be on acid right now!"  that's my usual plan for new years eve... forget the kissing, and proceed straight to awesome sex.  maybe not this year, but next year... muahaha.

eventually the fire got kinda low, and everyone got tired, so we headed home.


then this happened:

this is my view of The Matt trying to grab my boobs.  we do that a lot around here.  only this time, i have evidence!

see how he's all trying to be sneaky.  you're really not fooling anyone with that face, sir.


and then, i became a vampire.  yep that's right... i only drink this stuff now.  well, and the occasional human.

actually this stuff really amuses me, because my actual blood type is O positive.  the more you know... 

just before dawn, on 1/1/11, i took this picture of the view from my back steps.  it's the most familiar scene i see, every day.  i kinda like it rotting back there.  although i'm sure it's not good for my allergies, oh no.

so yeah.  then the next evening, my rat Mimsy died.  and that kinda sucks.  she had been noticeably sick, but there wasn't much i could do about it.  so of course i did the honorable thing:

i gave her a compostable coffin,

Matt dug her a nice grave (in my friend's yard, we only have a concrete patio),

and then we had a Speaking of How Awesome Mimsy Was, and sent her off with style.  and booze.  yes, i poured libations for my rat. 

heh.  fat rats don't run in the wheel, they just monopolize it.

RIP Mimsy, you were kickass.  

now i think i need to get my other rat, Pipsqueak, a buddy...  she looks so lonely in her big cage all by herself.  but we cleaned it top to bottom, and so hopefully she still feels at home.  even if her sister is gone.

so, minus my rat dying, my new years was pretty fantastic.  how was yours??

Saturday, January 1, 2011

today i'll be somewhere else...

guest posting at Crazy With a Side of Awesome Sauce for Sexy Saturdays!!!
come check me out.  i'll be spilling the beans on how The Matt and i....   met.
yes.  met is a good word for it.