Pull My Funnybone is severely offensive and dangerous. Reading Pull My Funnybone may cause an obsession with silkworms, anal leakage, mental confusion, cramps, lung flukes, dementia, genital warts, hairy tongue, paranoia, fatigue, blurry vision, skin tags, intense yeast infections, bot flies, pitting edema, diarrhea, constipation, pica, tree frog fixation, nausea, hallucinations, dry mouth, excessive salivation, nightmares, bunions, bed sores, uncontrollable twitching, goiter, and an immense hatred of this writer and therefore should not be read by anyone. Save yourself now and go look at pictures of cute puppies and kittens.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Monroe, recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia on top of another pain syndrome, began dramatically dropping weight over the last year. "In the past, I tried every diet out there. I remembering measuring and weighing food and putting it into little baggies marked with the number of calories, logging every calorie into my iPhone, and exercising like mad. Maybe I'd lose five pounds only to put it back on. It was so frustrating." She shook her head. "I'd been desperate to lose weight for over a decade. Then a little miracle called Fibromyalgia came into my life. I literally did nothing to lose this weight. I ate what I wanted when I wanted and didn't exercise and the weight just melted right off me."
We caught up with her in her dark bedroom laying on three heating pads, surrounded by several ice packs and medication bottles. "This little number I'm wearing right now, I wouldn't have been able to get it passed one calf."
"I have an average of four doctor's appointments a week so it really gives me a chance to show off my new figure. See that outfit over there?" Monroe pointed to a small, colorful sundress. "I wore that to my appointment with my primary care doctor on Monday. It's sweet but sexy. I wore it again on Tuesday to my rheumatology appointment and on Wednesday to my pain clinic visit. They're all in different locations so they don't know I have been wearing it all week. The sterile, white hallways make my colorful outfits stand out. And the frigid temperatures show off my nipples. I know the doctors who pass me in the hall slowly shuffling to the waiting room are checking me out."
"When I hobble into CVS to pick up my medications, (I'm there several times a week), it can be a little tricky. Since I'm there so often the staff recognize me by name. It's not uncommon to hear, "Hi Felicia, how are you doing today? I hope your appointment with Dr. Wiserman went well. I know your information by heart but protocol requires me to ask you." Nancy is so great. She's one of my favorite CVS employees. Her kids are growing up so fast. They looked so happy in the pictures I saw of them on their summer vacation. Since I'm there so often I have to rotate another outfit into the mix so they don't realize I've worn the same one for a week. I'm in a lot of pain and exhausted most of the time so I can't do laundry very often."
Monroe recommends those who are trying to lose weight but have been unsuccessful to consider getting a chronic illness or two. "I knew as soon as people began to get worried about my weight, I had achieved my weight loss goal." Monroe wouldn't disclose just how much weight she had lost, just that she is "very happy with the results."
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Sunday, November 17, 2013
When I'm bored I often go on Amazon and write reviews or post ads on Craigslist. Here's my latest:
11 of 11 people found the following review helpful
Gave Me My Life Back!
This review is from: Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer (Kitchen)I have spent the last ten years of my life struggling to prepare various kinds of produce. The banana, in particular, was always a challenge. I could never make the slices the proper length or width. I labeled myself as "produce-preparer challenged." I tried to talk myself into believing that making precisely measured slices was something only surgeons and rocket scientists could do. But deep down, I knew I was fooling myself. And I became very depressed. After an unfortunate wrist wound resulting from an apple peeler (which friends saw as a gesture of deliberate self-harm) I embarked on a road of psychiatric hospitalizations, homelessness, prostitution and gout. One dark, rainy night I was sitting on a ragged blanket under an overpass. Someone drove by and yelled, "Slice it! Don't dice it! Bicheezzz!" then threw the banana slicer at me and it hit me in the head. That moment changed my life forever.
I'm sure it's made by the Swiss or perhaps in Germany. The Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer offers the
world's best slicer of bananas with ease of use and reliability. I've had mine for two weeks and I've sliced over 310,9589,865,489,781,934 bananas! No carpal tunnel here!!! I've heard they use the same plastic for the International Space Station AND that NASA is studying the material for hovercrafts! That's Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Banana Style!
The only recommendation I would make is that you buy two because some bananas curve to the left. That way you have both angles covered. Also, it took me some time to discover that the banana must be peeled first. So keep that in mind!
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Saturday, September 21, 2013
A Photographic Journey of one Woman's Mission: To cut her own hair---while drunk---and in a hurry---and distracted by Facebook---and undermedicated--or perhaps over medicated.
I'm poor. And being poor means I have a DIY "Do It Yourself" approach to many things that people often pay for like medical care, sex, medications and now... haircuts.
First, I polled my Facebook friends to see if any of them dared to cut their own hair. Most urged against it. However, I was determined to give it a shot. (People who are mentally ill, like myself, have society's permission to do these things). I studied copious amounts of information on the internet and, as we all know, if it's on the internet it has to be true.
I figured since I do so many things much better while intoxicated: driving, child care, home surgery, difficult phone calls, singing, root canals, etc. I would need to be inebriated for my first self-haircut. I also realized I work well under pressure so I waited until ten minutes before my friend was going to pick me up to head out for the evening.
Here is my before picture:
I decided my first step should be to practice so I cut and styled my dog's stuffed rabbit:
After I finished with the rabbit I was completely confident that I had mastered the art and science of cutting hair. I would go up against Vidal Sasson himself if he hadn't recently crumped. (My confidence may have also been influenced by the wine but I'd like to attribute it to pure mastery of skill).
When women go to the salon their stylist begins by "consulting" with them about what they want to do that day. (Figured I'd 'splain it for my many male readers). Just because I was doing my own hair cut I did not want to deprive myself of a consultation so I stood in the mirror talking to myself (which I do often anyway) and role played customer and stylist.
With freshly washed hair I went to work. First I trimmed the length. The videos said to part your hair down the middle and make two ponytails. Move the elastics to where you want the length to be and cut either before or after the ponytail.
Then I added layers around my face by making another ponytail with only the hair from the front of my head and moving the elastic down and cutting.
I found continuing to drink really enhanced my fine motor skills. I also found that staying distracted by taking a break every ten seconds to go on Facebook helped me surrender to the creative process. I was under tremendous pressure to create a work of art as beautiful as Monet's Water Lilies. Not only did I have a virtual Facebook audience demanding updates and pictures but I also had a physical audience: my cats who were wild with anticipation.
I finished the cut and dried my hair. The entire process took fifteen minutes; five minutes to cut my hair and ten minutes to dry it. It looks uneven in the photo below because I'm lifting my arm to take the picture.
Here are two pics of the results. First one is styled with body. Second one is styled with a flat iron.
So no more salons for me! This cut would have cost about $85.00 if I went to my last stylist. Now all I need is a bottle of wine, some scissors, elastics and Led Zeppelin playing in the background.
If you want to cut your own hair start by getting "trained." I found these videos very helpful http://youtu.be/Z4TaXZcB-lQ and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rhdo4DwDFKI. I also found this article helpful http://feyeselftrim.livejournal.com/. There is a hair clip you can buy which actually has a level indicator on it if you want to upgrade from using hair elastics to something more precise. The woman in the second video uses one to give herself layers around her face.
Next, gather your supplies:
1-2 bottles of wine (or any alcoholic beverage of your choice)
Now, go to work. All the instructional videos say to start very conservative. I discourage this. I say, start liberally! Chop away! Pretend you are possessed by Edward Scissorhands. Keep drinking! Then send me your photos so I can post them on this site and we can make fun of you.
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Saturday, September 14, 2013
It recently was brought to my attention that there is a "movement" going on to stop using toilet paper and begin using home made reusable fabric called "Family Cloths." There are families, such as the Polivka Family, who not only use this system but have blogged about it. There are even "Family Cloths" available for purchase through Etsy. (The style below is an example).
|I actually love this pattern but I'm not sure I'd want to wipe my muddy balloon knot with it. |
I immediately sent them this email:
I was asking friends on Facebook about resources to shave my pits, clit and legs (nothing rhymes with legs, maybe eggs) and starfish. My friends who are customers recommended your site. I'm so excited I creamed my jeans. I LOVED your video. It made me horny. Anyway, why don't you start your own, "Pussy Galore line." Or Pussy Approved. My pink velvet wallet and I would be happy to help with your investigative studies. I hope your blades can handle my everglades.
Sister Mary Margaret
Just kidding---non-clergy, new customer
After receiving my first shipment of products, my love immediately progressed into something some might call "inappropriate" as demonstrated by this second email:
I won't keep harassing you with emails. (Do you get like... shaving
stalkers??) But, used the razor and shave butter I received in my first shipment and fucking LOVE them. I'm so glad I joined. AND as a bonus, I was feeling really depressed
today----and you know what cheered me up----watching those fucking
hilarious videos. So, what is Dollar Shave Club to me? It's an awesome
shaving supply store AND an amazing antidepressant (better than all the
pills flowing out of my medicine cabinet....well, better than some of them
at least. Others are REALLY good.)
I must say, I am disappointed that the One Wipe Charlies
are labeled as Gentleman Use Wipes. (Although you are a men's shaving club
so I understand). But put me up against any guy, any guy! and we'll have a
fecal throw down old school style on who launches the best mud monkey.
Maybe it's the feminist shitter in me. But I am confident I can unleash a
chocolate dragon right up there with the best of them. In fact, I'd be
happy to send your CEO a sample as proof!! (Just kidding....unless he's
into that sort of thing and is single. He's kinda hot).
I have since used the "One Wipe Charlies" and have been very impressed. Just reading the label should convince any doubting Thomas of their supernatural cleansing powers.
|Please pardon this image interrupting links to the right -->|
I have to say, I have been extremely impressed with the quality and price of their products. Again, I have never used this blog to promote products and am not receiving any form of compensation but I love this company and their products and their toleration of my emails. They have yet to sent me a "Cease and Desist letter" or issue a restraining order. For me, that's progress.
Now, back to the "Family Cloths." I have outlined throughout this blog my many major psychiatric disorders including fears about things being contaminated. My first problem with reusable ass wipes is fecal material in the washing machine. I would need a gallon of bleach per wash cycle and would need to do at least three wash cycles plus a heat cycle that would rival Satan's flames of hell. And, despite those efforts I would still be terrified that all my clothes, towels, sheets, etc. were infested with feces. So, I don't believe it would be more environmentally conscious for someone like to me use the "Family Cloth" method.
However, being a painter and photographer, the artist in me feels drawn to the idea of designing cloths for families who would use this system. I looked at the pattern examples on line and felt they were lacking. They were pretty, like precious Amish quilts. I felt there needed to be something more...well, expressive. These are some ideas for my family cloth designs:
- A repeating image of Mr. Hanky
- The Led Zeppelin symbols and lyrics to The Immigrant Song
- Repeated pattern of a picture of Osama Bin Laden
- Repeated pattern of a picture of the Boston marathon bombers
- 100 dollar bills
- Lyrics to "Car Wash" and "Endless Love"
- The opening text from Star Wars
- A giant, never ending shit streak
- Robert Plant's lyrics to "The Big Log"
- Pictures of people I hate: Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep, family members, etc.
- Hitler (and perhaps the challenge would be to make his mustache)
- An image from the movie I want to make: SHARTNADO
- "Centuries of Sphincters" an artist's rendition of the sphincters belonging to important figures of world history
- The Declaration of Independence in its entirety followed by an artist's rendition of the sphincters belonging to each signer along with their name.
And of course I am going to design sets that will celebrate the holidays. For example, for Christmas you can wipe your ass on the precious baby Jesus lying in a manger. What about Easter you ask? Well, of course you can cleanse your brown eye right on Christ hanging on the cross. I thought about including other spiritual themes: maybe Mother Teresa, Ghandi or Buddha but for some reason Jesus seemed much more offensive.
I approached friends on what they thought I should work on for my "Family Cloth" patterns. One friend suggested a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs. I liked that. Then she suggested different breeds of roosters (referring to my video "Cock Talk"). I also thought a series on famous works of art could be quite popular. Who wouldn't want to wipe their ass on, say, The Mona Lisa?
I then considered the Great American Value of "multi-tasking." What if you could combine shitting with some other important task? Perhaps wiping could be combined with taking assessments such as an eye exam, the WAIS (Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale), The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), or for the really adventurous, the Rorschach test. Husband calls from bathroom: "Honey, will you call the eye doctor and set up an appointment for me? During my shit, shower, shave routine I could only read up to line four."
|Classic Rorschach Test Card|
In addition to having ready made bundles of cloths, I will also be available for hire to create personalized family cloth bundles. For example, I could collect important family dates and my cloths could serve as reminders. "Oh thank God I had that burrito grande. I never would have remembered Tyler's birthday on Tuesday." "Oh shit, next season of Downton Abbey starts next week!" "Wow, time to renew my Prozac already? Thank God I had that chili dog to remind me." "This was such a great picture of Walter before he died," wipe, "I'll go to the cemetery tomorrow and bring him some flowers."
As a pet lover I ask, "Why should we limit this movement to just humans?" How about bringing it into the dog park? I will call it: "Embrace Feces of all Species." How cute would cloth bags with patterns of dog bones or squirrels be?
What would you prefer? Using a family cloth or something along the lines of a One Wipe Charlie? To help me decide where I stand on achieving a sparkling starfish I thought back to The Palak Paneer Panties Incident.
It happened last February. I had a couple visiting with me for the weekend. I was on antibiotics for a sinus infection which can cause gastro-intestinal distress in some individuals. Both Friday and Saturday nights we ordered take out, Indian. Spicy Indian to be precise.
It was Sunday, a little after noon. We were gearing up to go somewhere for brunch. Amy went in to use the bathroom. Her husband Alex turned to me, "In thirty seconds she is going to call for my help because she clogged the toilet." I laughed thinking he was kidding. Thirty seconds later, "Alex, can you come help me?" He gets up, shows me the calluses on his palms, his own personal stigmata, and walks into the bathroom.
While sitting on the couch I had the impulse to fart so, as anyone would do, I pushed. To my surprise it was not air. It was lava. I jumped up and started laughing. Gravity and the muscular contractions involved in laughing made my predicament much worse. I kept clenching but as soon as I would laugh or move a mudslide would occur. I ran to the bathroom and burst the door open. Alex was furiously plunging as if he was trying to bail out the titanic. Amy was barking orders at him. "Keep the plunger at a perpendicular angle to the floor." "Use harder, faster strokes." "Hurry up!"
I arrived at the bathroom door gesturing wildly. I could not speak. Amy deciphered my interpretive dance as me finding their situation hilarious. I did think it was funny, however, there was an urgent issue at hand. The dribble of my chocolate Fribble was becoming a flash flood emergency. I began gesturing for them to leave. I was trying my best to clench and gesture. Clench and gesture. Amy, aware of my germaphobia, especially with fecal material, said, "Let me Clorox wipe the seat." In a strained whisper I croaked, "No time." I sat down on the toilet with both of them next to me and proceeded to spurt into the bowl like a mini Old Faithful. Amy and Alex inspected my underwear which was between my knees. "Looks like a bowl of chili." Amy commented. "Nah, that's a diaper of Indian food." Alex replied.
In that most important moment, had I been given the choice for wiping, what would I have chosen? When you spill a slippery mound of refried beans on your kitchen counter do you want to use a dry, non-absorbent cloth? (I'm envisioning a polyester restaurant napkin). Or do you want to use something wet and absorbent like a Clorox wipe? Hands down I would have chosen my One Wipe Charlies.
So, yes, perhaps there are families well suited for the "Family Cloth" system. However, to tame my chocolate dragons I prefer my "One Wipe Charlies."
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