08 WASN'T GREAT. 09 WILL BE SUPER FINE

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I wish you all a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. May all of your wishes come true. May you find happiness by your design. I am thrilled we are going into 09 together.

I know I've been on an unplanned hiatus these past few weeks, but an explanation will be forthcoming in a few days and a lot more posting and commenting on your delicious reads.

Thank you for being in my life and for being such great e-buds, friends and blog buds. You're all tits to the tenth and I am a better person for knowing you.

Love,

Katie

"If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose" - Charles Bukowski

“There is a time to stop reading, there is a time to STOP trying to WRITE, there is a time to kick the whole bloated sensation of ART out on its whore-ass.” - Charles Bukowski

The Best Queen in LA

A day without this Gay would be devastating. This queen is fierce. Christmas in HanCOCK Park wouldn't be the same without him. Are you kvellarella for his decor? Me too!

New Letter at Dear Thyroid

A lovely dame named Melissa wrote a beautiful hate letter to her thyroid and submitted it to Dear Thyroid. She's 30-years-old and her life has been turned upside down and inside out. What is so impressive, in my opinion is her commitment to kicking her thyroids ass and extricating the "awry" from her "thy". The girl's got moxie! Give a read.

SUCK THE LINING OF MY WOMB, YOU WRETCHED BEAST

I wrote the below ventfest last night thinking I would publish it. Instead, I passed out from egg-zzausgion.

I am so angry. Using Insanareesta's face as my menstrual product of choice this month couldn't quell my level of rage. In fact, neither could turning her into a train-pulling-record-breaking stunt cunt, or watching her mattress surf in freezing cold mud, naked, clinging to the rope attached to a John Deere tractor driven by a misogynist woman (a-la Palin), named Billie with a heart above the "I" (just to piss me the fuck off). Nothing will extinguish my severe level of frustration, not a damn thing.

Well, I guess moving will... help.

Snatcheeola continues to bang. Bang. Bang. When she smells smoke. I'm this close to posting an add on Craigslist for every smoker in LA to stand at her windows, chain smoking.

What DICKS me off the most is that the landlord is taking her side because she kvetches three times a day. Do you believe? Who does that? Worse, when I'm in the kitchen doing whatever-the-fuck-I'm-doing (dishes, heating something up, taking something out of the fridge, ya follow), she clangs pots and turns on the water full blast (FYI: You don't have to be wasteful to hate me).

I've never seen such a thing, it's appalling. This shit would never happen and never did happen in New York, or San Francisco, or anywhere else.

I swear I'm not being a giant pussy by not banging back, really. I'm handling the sitch another way. To be discussed when I can spill.

Oy yoy yoy. I wonder. In this deeply recessed economy, during this supposed "season of giving", what kind of person would choose to take time out of their day to make another person miserable? Why would you make time for such a thing? Then I think, something must have happened, a trigger of sorts that made her deranged. Not that I'm passing out compassion-candy-canes to her right now. Although, if she righted the wrong, I would.

MONKEYSTUD

Thank you SimianStudMuffin, for the coolest, campest most fabulous T-Give vinty postcard, evah. I luv it - I luv it - I luv it.

My BB didn't do this baby justice, it is fabulous. I taped it to my fridge, so I can see it every day.

Such a mensch that Simian... I couldn't adore him any harder.

PIRATES? PIRATES.

Image found here. Tits, right? I thought so, too.

Moving the story along, my very good friend Crionaberry wrote the most kick ass post about health insurance, it's surly, sassy and sadly true. A must read. Ga'head. check it out.