Oh hey.
Contrary to those pesky Internet rumors swirling around, I’m still alive. I did like the story of how I fell to my death tightrope walking over a canyon filled with bubbling shrimp bisque. I don’t even care for bisque. Or walking.
I’ve. Been. Busy.
See those hairy boobs? I painted them all by myself on my bathroom wall (key words here are ALL BY MYSELF) What’s a grown woman doing painting boobs on her bathroom wall? That’s totally creepy. Well, I was waiting for my husband to come home to check them out. Not that hairy boobs turn him on. At least I hope they don’t. He was late – really late, so I painted over them before my kids saw them and thought that saggy hairy boobs were their destiny. Just like their Uncle Simon and Aunt Matilda.
My bathroom is now a beautiful shade of black. Don’t judge. It looks marvelous.
I’ve been completely out of the “social media” loop these days. Haven’t been Tweeting, haven’t been reading blogs, no emailing, barely shower, I’m down to 101 pounds (okay, a girl can dream way back to 1990) I’d even forgotten how to log into this blog – took me twenty minutes! Forget about the updates to my blog theme, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
The problem? I’ve been completely wrapped up in my house. I’m a design junkie, with a junkie’s budget. Eating, sleeping, breathing, paint colors, sofas, light fixtures, leatherette sex swings (it’s more humane than real leather – thank you Stella McCartney!)
I also take care of two beautiful devil children who take up so much more time than I ever anticipated. Bath time again? Dinner? They just ate two days ago! New shoes? Trying to convince them that wrapping their feet in shiny aluminum foil was all the rage at Paris Fashion Week went over like a lead balloon. Fine. New shoes it is.
My obsession with my house can be blamed on the highly addictive website, Apartment Therapy. On October 16th I have some fine folks from that design blog coming over to interview me (that should be hilarious) and photograph my home.
Uh oh.
Do I offer these people fancy chips and dip? Since I’m a chef do I impress and offer my most revered braised octopus tongue and sardine terrine?
Should I clean up the pile of chicken bones I’ve tossed in the corner of the kitchen?
Where will I hide my dildo collection?
Where shall I put the mentally challenged family of hippies I found in Golden Gate Park, who now live in my broom closet? Okay, I made that one up. I don’t even have a broom closet.
Too many questions. Not enough time.
I’ll let you know how it goes. Hopefully they won’t run out of the house screaming when I show them my rare 17th century rotten tooth collection.
Wish me luck.
20 Comments
Wow. The people from the government office that came over to inspect and photograph my house were no where near this nice! They used words like “condemned” and “feces” and then they went somewhere in a dark van with my kids. sheesh. They didn’t even stay long enough to hear my story about the time the little one got stuck between our used beer can mountain and the wall for a whole day.
Hmm. I pegged you for more of “blood spattered walls” kinda girl than “feces”
I like hairy boobs. Sort of a subtle reminder to always carry a good pair if tweezers in your pocket.
Although now that winter is around the corner, a little extra hair might just keep you nice and toasty.
You need to go get yourself a pill box hat so that you can lead the tour in Jackie-O style… Then you can be all, “this is the closet where I keep the ninja… This is the cabinet where the children play and farm animals wear hats… The is is the bathroom where the mythical hairy boobs reside” … Can you Skype it live or something? Love to be a fly on the wall…. Butterfly that is. Also, I have no idea how to Skype.
Sadly, I do not own a Jackie-O style pill box hat. I do however own an empty tissue box which I can fashion into a hat. Skype confuses me. Smoke signals are more reliable.
I had no idea that black came in shades … who’d have thunk it!
Yes! I used Martha Stewart’s new paint line to draw my boobs. Think the color was “black death” or “filthy urinal” or something like that…
I am obsessed with Apartment Therapy. And I’m pretty sure they’d be cool with the dildo collection, so long as it’s casually yet artfully arranged.
They are housed in a gigantic gold leaf and velvet box tastefully hung over the mantel in the living room.
Your design is so distinctive in comparison to several others. Thanks for publishing whenever you possess the option,Guess I’ll just make this bookmarked.two
Listen to Diablo…whenever you possess the option!
Thank you wise one. I will.
I think you should have left the boobs. It’s arty. Apartment Therapy loves that shit.
I know. I’m regretting painting over them.
I still have a laundry room to paint though…
So.
Is that a life drawing?
Oh come on now…not from MY life.
At least not right now. Give me 10 years and ask me then.
cool blog
I like your boobs.
Picasso wished he had painted these boobs…