I hope you get herpes.

Dear Jenilen Perez,

Thank you for signing up to Facebook using my email address. It has been my life-long dream to have someone use my personal information so they can spread all sorts of tomfuckery all over the interwebs. Oh, and thank you also for using my father’s last name, because simply stealing my email address obviously wasn’t dumb enough. I feel extremely flattered and I cannot thank you enough for keeping me up to sort this shit out when I have to be up in 2 hours so I can get to work on time. Sweet.

You probably didn’t realize that I will figure this out, you being a dumb fuck and all. So here are a few tips in case you want to do this again in the future:

1) Don’t use my fucking email address or any information about me. I’m sure you know that Facebook requires you to validate the email address you use for signing up. Ergo, that link will go to MY inbox, which you currently have no access to because, oh you know, YOU DON’T FUCKING OWN IT.

2) Don’t try to reset my email password so you can carry on with your internet tomfuckery. I get notifications everytime some turdface twatwaffle tries to reset my password or answer my security questions. Did you really think you can get in using Password1?

3) Using somebody else’s email on Facebook allows THEM to reset YOUR account password. Because obviously. Or do you need me to spell that out for you?

4) Get an education. Or a job. Or eat shit. Or get hit by a truck. Or jump off a cliff.

Sincerely,

Tasha

Bluenicorn

Look who just updated her blog! I know, I know. And this isn’t even a real blog post. I’m only updating because I wanted to show you guys what I did for my friend, PixieBelz. She asked me to make her a drawing of a unicorn and a pixie together. Now, I love unicorns to death so I really enjoyed doing this. Unfortunately, my Moleskine notebook wasn’t big enough for the awesomeness that is a unicorn AND a pixie all in one page. Said pixie will have to reside on a different page and will have to be done on a different day because I’m really, really sleepy. If I find enough drive, I might even make a new one altogether. Anyway, I hope you like it. Tell me what you think. :]

{Guest Post} Eddie Outlaw: Manscaping 101

I think we have established that I am, in fact, the laziest blogger in the world. (Shut your trap, Taryn.) I feel so bad for neglecting my blog, but my current state of affairs – in other words, my laziness – has prevented me time and time again from sharing some really awesome stories with you people. That, and because Twitter has made it practically impossible for me to write anything longer than 140 characters.

Anyhoots, it is for that reason that I am now taking Guest Bloggers into my Haven of Snarkawesomesauce. There is so much talent out there on the interwebs, men and women who are experts on so many things – helpful or otherwise – and I figured, why not tap on their expertise?

The first of (hopefully) a fuckton of really amazaballs guest bloggers who will invade SnarkoBabble is the gayest man in the South. He is funny, snarky, he loves my boob pokes, and is also quite possibly the best hairdresser in Mississippi. If you’re not following him on Twitter yet, you would do well to get on it. Like right now. He also blogs here. I’m really lousy at doing introductions so I’m gonna stop babbling now and let him do the talking. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you – the uber-fabulous style savant, Eddie Outlaw.

It only takes your sex partner getting a “long and curly” caught in the molars once to quit going downtown.

Men of the world, the straight ones, nobody wants to see your afro down below. Yes, I said it. You know that judgmental glare you cast when something offensive crosses your line of sight?  How many times have you winced when a hunting buddy mixes his camouflage patterns? I know, right! It’s ridiculous. So, imagine what your potential sex partner thinks when you reveal the privet you’re sporting in your tighty whities.  I’m not trying to be hurtful, boys.  We gays are taught about these things during our “conversion.”  That and the mind-blowing “gay face.”

Look, your mother probably never thought to suggest it. I’m sure it never crossed your father’s mind.  Let’s face it, if people took the time to teach their boys to keep their peckers clean, God probably wouldn’t have given circumcision the go ahead.  Seriously, how hard can it be? Much simpler than keeping a vagina clean, I’d think, but that’s just me.

So, without further ado, here’s the long and short (pardon the pun) of grooming down under.

Never go at your bits without doing your homework.

The worst thing you can do is jump in without a plan.  Look at yourself in a full-length mirror and really think about what will flatter your man weasel.  As with hairstyles, not everyone can pull off a faux-hawk or a mullet. Conversely, not every crotch-style will work for you.  Keep in mind the magic word: proportion. If you have a tiny penis, consider less pubic hair. If you’re well endowed, you should keep it simple and let the hammer make the statement.

Get some clippers.

Whether or not you decide to remove errant hair or create shapes, you should shorten the crop.  It only takes your sex partner getting a “long and curly” caught in the molars once to quit going downtown.  Forget what you’ve heard. Women won’t think you’re gay for keeping things up down there, any more than they’ll think you’re Jewish for having no foreskin.  Just make a practice run on your leg hair before you take the hand-held bush hog to your privates.  And, for god’s sake, be careful not to get your nut sack caught in the blades.  I almost bled out that way once, well, thrice.

To shave or not to shave?

Going bare is a personal preference. If you feel good about it, then go for it. Keep in mind, though, that it usually only works for guys with zero percent body fat. Otherwise, you just end up looking like a really big toddler.  You should, at the very least, shave the scrotum.  If you decide to shave at all, remember to trim first.  Use clippers with a guard to knock back your pubes, then you can shave. This extends the life of the razor. Speaking of razors, the cheapest will do fine if, and only if, you take your time.  The last thing you want to do is shave off a nut.

Caution: Hot Wax

Some men prefer being waxed as it prevents annoying stubble, as well as dingleberrys.  Women have extolled the virtues of a good clean up using wax for decades.  I have, on occasion, experienced the benefits of this procedure, but be warned, it’s not for the faint of heart. What you’ve heard is true. It is painful, but only for an instant.  Just have a stiff drink, man up and bite down on a leather strap.  Never try to wax yourself, though. I did it once and almost ripped off my ass hole.

It’s not called manscaping for nothing.

Here’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  What straight guy doesn’t appreciate what curb-appeal can do for real estate’s value?  Cutting back an overgrown yard makes the outdoor space seem more open, thus increasing the implied value, right?  Similarly, knocking back the pubes will make your penis appear bigger. As will losing weight, but that’s another matter altogether.

Letters to Jaeden: First Year

Dear Snug,

I suppose I really would have to buckle down and write this letter at some point. I tried to put it off in the hopes that the reality of you turning one would be delayed along with it, just long enough until I’m ready. But like most other things, growing up doesn’t work that way.

I thought I wasn’t ready for you, too; but when those two lines (okay, technically it was a total of eight) told me that Daddy and I might be having a baby? Suddenly, I was. I don’t know how or why, but I knew and I was certain. I was also scared and excited and nervous and clueless and happy and scared some more, but more than anything else, I was ready to be a mother to you.

Try as I might to convince myself otherwise, I have indeed been wearing this Mommy cape for 12 months (plus 9, unofficially) and no amount of denial can change the fact that you are, all too quickly, starting to grow out of your infancy. When other people say it’s like it was only yesterday when they gave birth to their babies? They’re lying. It actually feels a lot more like three months, maybe even six, but definitely not twelve. Nowhere close to twelve.

Where that entire year went and how it hurtled past without us noticing is beyond me. You have grown into such an amazing young boy over the past year. You have conquered milestone after milestone at a speed that sometimes even I can’t keep up with. I’m not even done celebrating your first laugh yet and already you’ve turned over on your own, then crawled, babbled, sat, pulled yourself up, stood, knee-jumped, and now ohmigod you’re walking?!

I realize you’re not going to be a baby forever but nobody said you have to hightail it, child. It’s official. You’re one, you’re growing, and will continue to grow even more. There’s nothing I can do about it, I get it. But can you maybe slow down just a little tiny bit for Mommy? I want to be able to hold you longer and that might soon become an impossibility when there’s 2 feet 9 inches and 26.5 pounds of you weighing down on my arms at 12 months.

Oh, Jaeden.

You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, to us. You make everyone happy with your presence. Remember to always thank Lolo and Mamila for spoiling you. When you get older, they will grow older too and they will probably get annoying and repetitive and think they are always right. Let them. And when I forget to be the same way to them, please be the one to remind me.

I love you. Even before I knew you or saw you or touched you, I already loved you. You have truly been a blessing to me and Daddy and everyone in the family. I hope to be the best mother to you. Not cookie-cutter, but tailor-fit to the awesome person that you are. Sometimes, I will be an active participant in your life events; at other times, I will be a spectator cheering you on. I will always be there for you, son. Maybe not always in the way that you imagined, but trust that I’m there.

Happy first birthday, my darling. We’ve raced our way to the BIG 1. What say you we just take a leisurely walk going on to 2?

Love,

Mom

P.S.

Today, I am officially making Snuggulus Ridiculus your alternative name. Don’t hate me, okay?

Wordless Wednesday on a Tuesday

The world is so much more beautiful because you are in it.