BIG RED DOGMA: QUIXOTIC ADVICE FROM A FRIEND
Dear Clifford,
I’m pretty sure my boss has Lime Disease. She is being a super bitch.
Hmmm, now that’s a real pickle. I’m no stranger to ticks. Try slobbering all over yourself - this should create an impenetrable physical an emotional barrier, depending on what you’ve been eating.
WEDDING BELLS
My heart is black, just like your wallet.
I’m sorry about that fight we had outside of Paper Presentations.
You’re right, the place cards would look better with metallic ink.
I hope you’re not still mad.
THE GRANDEUR GUIDE TO BACHELORETTE PARTIES
Light up penis earrings really add a sparkle to your face - which will look even better blurry than ‘not blurry.’
GRANDEUROUS PET PEEVES
Meet Peeves, my imaginary pet gopher. He’s super smart and also rabid - a great cuddle buddy. Except for the claws. And sometimes he likes to bite when he’s feeling slighted. So it would be best to include Peeves in any social engagements you plan on inviting me to. But try to keep the lighting evenly diffused or suggest padded clothing to your other guests. If he sees his shadow, he goes pretty berserk.
TEN THINGS I’M HOLDING ON TO:
1—Tellin’ it like it is
2—Tangled remnants of shattered youth
3—Pretending to be well-read
4—Excuses for robust appetite
5—Rage against high school yearbook publisher
6—Over-inflated sense of self esteem
7—Unused recreational gear
8—McClean county geography bee win
9—Being cheap when I feel so rich
10—Diggin’ in like it’s going out of style
SCENT OF A TURDMAN
Some women get diamonds, others peals. For my 29th birthday, I got real piece of shit. No really, it was a felt finger puppet that was supposed to be a piece of shit, and aptly named, “King Shit.” At first, I really despised him. I would put him in a drawer only to find him later, smiling at me from some unexpected living room perch.
The months passed and King Shit somehow found himself atop a framed picture in my breakfast nook. It was there he would make his permanent home, decorating with various and sundry from about the house. Eventually, a dried rose stuffed itself into his finger puppet hole, adding an almost necessary jauntiness to his newfound nest.
HANG IN THERE, BABY!
I herniated my disc.
THE GRANDEUR GUIDE TO STYLE
I love fashion as much as the next dumb-ass, but word to the wise: leggings are not pants.
p
PUT YOUR HAND INSIDE OF MY CRAFTS BOX
That’s right. Open the top of the shoebox. Just like that. Slide your hand along its rectangular insides—careful of the giant yarn needles—but don’t stop.
Gently flex the pipe cleaners, the glue gun is gettin’ hot. Now we’re gonna do what we came here to do. Make some fucking crafts!
DEEP THOUGHTS
There was cat hair in my purse today - which is strange, because I don’t own or know of any cats.
BIG RED DOGMA: QUIXOTIC ADVICE FROM A FRIEND
Dear Clifford,
I can’t help but think that my life would be infinitely better with an giant red dog as an imaginary friend. How can I turn this dream into a reality?
What you need is pills, and lots of ‘em. Now I’m no pharmacologist, but it would stand to reason that if you shake a container filled with big red pills and say “here boy!”, a dog like me is bound to come a runnin.’
Love, Clifford
THE GRANDEUR GUIDE TO STYLE:
A pair of sunglasses should say something subtle, like “ME, MEEEEEEE!!!!!”
MANHATTAN DENTIST
Manhattan dentist, I found you online.
Your office was on Fifth Avenue; your Yelp reviews were fine.
You covered me up in an anti-slobber sheath,
And then you used that loud-ass thing to polish my teeth.
But why did you have to turn on the Barry White?
That’s the kind of shit that keeps me up at night.
Manhattan dentist, you have boogers in your nose.
Manhattan dentist, your breath: it blows.
THE TIME I WANTED TO BE A FASHION BLOGGER
They fled a polygamist sect in Utah to a pied-à-terre nestled snugly within the Ninth Arrondissement. His vintage camera hadn’t worked in 60 years, but slung effortlessly around his neck, it went really well with those glasses. When she finally got her hat to that 45 degree angle, they moved to Brooklyn where he gave up on ‘not taking pictures’ of things that ‘don’t really exist anyway.’
DEEP THOUGHTS:
I always thought ‘tweet’ was just another word for ‘queef’. I guess it sort of is.
