My Sister Messaged Me That She is Going to Jail For Running Over My Ex-Brother-In-Law With Her Car

10:24 P.M. TUESDAY My sister, Audrey, sends me the following private Facebook message: "Going to jail. Hit (my ex) with the car. Fight for (my son) with all you have." I reach across the mountain of soiled Kleenex to the bucket sitting beside my bed, and I vomit into it. As I do, my left ass cheek starts bleeding. That's just been the kind of day I've been having. 12 HOURS EARLIER So, it's morning, and I'm sick. Congested, snotty, sneezy, wheezy sick. My asshat husband, Chris, tells me I need to "buck up." After all, he's had

The Best Cults Are Polygamous and Have Animal Sacrifices (But That's Just My Personal Experience)

My dad disappeared when I was 10. Ok, so, he didn't vanish forever. That'd be a bummer. But it would explain my prodigious therapy bill. Instead, my Pappy just dropped off the grid for a couple of hours so he could secure a compound. This is the point in the post where I issue one of those "trigger warnings." If you're not down with accidental animal sacrifices or other forms of religious skullduggery, now's the time to bail. Because I'm about to reveal that I once unwittingly served as an adolescent acolyte of one of the Midwest's most prominent Evangelical

I'm Not Actually Planning on Murdering My Sister (But the Day's Not Over Yet)

So, I sort of shit in your bed. Metaphorically, of course. I see you're worried, so let me explain using a scene from one of my favorite movies, "Pirate Radio." One of the characters is describing how he was in bed with this girl and he thought she wouldn't notice if he let go a little bit of wind. But it wasn't wind. It was diarrhea. So, there he was, with the girl of his dreams, with poo all over the sheets behind him. Yes, it's a plot point that is both crass and juvenile, but it's a cinematic moment

The Worst News Roundup Ever Written

I don't know why people apologize for taking breaks from blogging. After all, absence only makes the heart grow fonder, and you bitches need to learn to love me. So, following an appropriate period of withholding, I am returning at just the right time, much in the way your genital warts resurface when you've met "the one." For real, though, I know I've been a bit removed lately. I tried to remedy this situation by showering you with kickass guest posts from some super rad peeps. If my blog stats can be trusted, you actually liked those writers better than

I brainstormed a witty title for this post about herpes, but I couldn't think of anything "catchy"...

Reason #1,386,928 I deserve a medal and/or a cookie: I was at the grocery store yesterday, and the cashier asked me how my day had been thus far, and I did not respond with, "Welp, my sister just revealed she's contracted herpes from her ex-convict husband. I don't know who was more surprised: her or me. Just kidding. It was totally her." Rather, I decided to go with the more sedate answer and said, "I'm as okay as I can be, considering I have a colonoscopy tomorrow. I'm just here to pick up adult diapers because I