Recycled turkey wishes

It's two years old now, but still heartfelt. In a creepy kinda way.

Shout-out from Port Charles

If I said that General Hospital was my guilty television pleasure, that would be a lie; 99% of what I watch on the cable suckhole could be classified as "guilty pleasure" variety broadcast bullshit, and I'm being kind in my description.

I share my General Hospital viewing ritual with Squirl. With each other's company, and our running commentary, it makes us both feel a little less like "That was five hours out of my week I'll never get back!" about the whole shameful thing.

After watching all these years, I finally got a moment of recognition from the show. Granted, this loving tribute to me could have been done in a kinder, gentler way, but when you 're as freaky as I am, you take it where you can get it. I give to you a clip from GH that could only have been directed toward me. I don't know how those clever rascals found out so much detail about me, but I suspect my sister is in on this.



"Paging Dr. Katy Grossfart..."

Your moment of zen

This came in a package of wax lips I bought last year (oh, like you wouldn't grab a handful of wax lips if you saw them in the checkout lane at Meijer around 3:30 in the morning, when the bars won't have you anymore and no one wants to see you naked).

I'm extremely confused by it, so I keep it displayed prominently on my desk to remind me that there are people out there who are on more drugs that I am.