May 07, 2008
some things never change

so i'm sure you're convinced that in the year since i last posted regularly i've been off being glamorous, doing things like:
  • bathing only in heated pools of fiji brand water
  • wearing only things that have been hand-sewn and beaded for me by tiny elves living deep in a mushroom forest
  • dating fabulous men who appreciate me and treat me with respect
  • having my bones replaced with adamantium
  • training my cats to fetch my pills
only one of these things is actually true. i'm guessing you know which one.

anyways, the truth is this. i actually HAVE been off being glamorous. i always sort of thought my life would be amazing and i would get to dress up in great outfits and bigtallshoes and have fancy hair and makeup and ridiculous eyelashes and then i'd go out to parties and bars and restaurants and for a long time this was all just a sort of disorganized fantasy i almost didn't even know i was having... and then i realized one day i was doing it. i'm living the life i always played out with my barbies, except with slightly more booze (slightly meaning hand over the vodka or i will likely end up in prison for your brutal front-page murder) and significantly less sex. it was fucking melrose place in my barbie beach house.

the point of all this is that I AM FABULOUS. and yet.

so remember when i got smooshed in my car? smooshed like grape! so it's now two plus years later and i finally got my bills paid. the check arrived and after i had rubbed it all over my naked body parts i cashed it... then i was going to rub all those bills all over my naked body parts but i remembered money is kind of dirty and also i am kind of neurotic and then i thought about that for while because i sort of got preoccupied with the idea of all the itsybitsy germies and all the hands that have touched each dollar and did you know that more often than not a man doesn't wash his hands and so every time you touch a doorknob or a dollar you are pretty much covered in second-hand wang? anyways, i paid off some debt.

then i bought a dyson.

that's right. glamorous sparkly impeccably-dressed me spent my "free money" on a vacuum cleaner. AND IT IS GLORIOUS. when i first held it and ran it across my carpeted floor i was breathless with its magnificent power. if it were a human, i would have sexed it on the spot. it wasn't until i looked at all the cat fur stuck in its container that i realized i was living in squalor. but really, once i was done shaving the cats i felt better. they didn't mind too much. i only lost one eye.

so the dyson is amazing and i love it and i would gladly have its unusually heavy but aesthetically-pleasing yellow babies. it is because of this fact that i can relate the following: like most canister vacuums, the dyson is not terribly easy to empty in a seamlessly clean manner. there's always dust flare up, which irritates both my eyes and my ungodly OCD. so i just carry the canister right down to the dumpster and let the dust flare up into the great big gray sky of los angeles, where it clearly belongs.

it was just such a moment, this past sunday, after having vacuumed all the many metric tonnes of discarded cat and sequins and glitter from my floors (and couches, because hot damn if that dyson doesn't have a sweet-ass hand attachment) that i found myself in a predicament. in a moment of sheer... well, sheer me... i dropped the canister right to the bottom of that foul and most-wretched stinkbox.

and because i love that GODDAMNED dyson so fucking much you better believe i hoisted myself into that dumpster, my legs flailing like party streamers in the air, just to get it back out.

i risked my life for a vacuum cleaner. the force is strong with this one... if by force you mean "neuroses" or "issues" or "just plain crazy." which of course, if you know me at all, you probably do.


Blogger robiewankenobie said...

i see, you've been dating fabulous vacuums who appreciate you and treat you with respect...the dyson must have some fairly fabulous attachments, eh?

Blogger Übermilf said...

Maybe you could work the Dyson and your eye loss into your act.

A pirate queen, avec eye patch, with a a canister vac... you could have your attachments in holsters on your hips, like a gunslinger

Anonymous Valancy Jane said...

I bet you COULD work the Dyson into an act. And I bet it would be better than sex.

Blogger Johnny² said...

Have I told you that I love you?

Blogger des said...

i second johnny's emotion.

Anonymous BEEB! said...

Oh my god. "second-hand wang"? That's fantastic! I loooove second-hand wang.

I wonder if the dyson can handle dog hair just as well? I think I've got a few carpet dogs that need to be sucked.

(i just reread that. eww.)

Blogger jiggs said...

Jerry Caysey wants to punch the dyson guy in the mouth.

Anonymous Jay Def said...

My roommates just bought a Dyson as well. I haven't had a chance to use it yet, but I'll give it a go soon. :)

Blogger yournamehere said...

I would fish you out of a dumpster, baby. I can think of no greater tribute.

Blogger Scarlet Hip said...

That eyeball picture is way hot. Also, how did you train your cats to fetch pills?

Blogger Beeb said...

who shapes those lovely eyebrows?

Blogger Melina said...

you're so loveable...glad you're back and posting! Public, private whatever...just post!

Blogger Abigail said...

I gotta tell you this, Peppercups... I love you! This was the most entertaining thing I've read in a long time!

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

I am so in love with you.

Well, you and Jamwall.

But that's OK -- three can be merry!

Blogger Tits McGee said...

I want to make sweet, sweet love to your eyeball.

I married a Dyson, that is how good they are and she cooks too!

Blogger Charm City Barfly said...

ok, you said you were back and now no post for almost a month. Get to it, woman!

Blogger Samantha said...

Sounds like a good time. I've always wanted to see them in concert, but She made that impossible. Also, I'm pretty sure the killing off of Doyle on Angel had something to do with the actor committing suicide.

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