Monthly Archives: November 2012

Mitt Romney, Unplugged

Today while refreshing my “site stats” page and crying inside, I realized it has been a long time since I have incorporated Google search terms* into a blog post. I was sadenned.

I thought to myself, there MUST be a way to do this! But I have done just about everything with a Google search term, short of getting impregnated by one. Surely I could not come up with another way! But then it hit me…

Mitt Romney.

“Do you realize, Lena, that you are the only person who will find any of this funny?” I thought to myself, whilst navigating Paint on my company computer. And to that I say, “you know it, ho.”

So with that I give you this:  

Mitt Romney, Unplugged



I’m laughing. Even if you’re not.




The girl with classy but ghetto orangutan titties

*Google search terms that led people to my blog, taken verbatim from my site stats page

Results are In: I am NOT a Pretentious Shrew!

A few weeks ago I took a poll. Here are the results:

Because I have no concrete evidence of how many people actually participated in this poll, I can only speculate that with 183 subscribers, it was somewhere in the range of 6,072. In which case, I congratulate myself for having so many dedicated readers. There has never been a success in my life quite as remarkable as fabricated statistics.

The main thing I gather from these results is that the only thing people hate less than politics is calling me a pretentious shrew, which really is the mother of all compliments if you think about it. Yes. I can accept this world where beards are more important than love, and 50% of voters are completely indifferent to what I write. I accept it like I accept anything. Except Kristen Stewart. I don’t accept her. Not as an actress or as a human. That was not a vampire joke.

Anyhow. Thank you to everyone who participated in this. I appreciate your feedback.

And to those of you who did not, I invite you to stop being such a loser. It’s bad for your complexion.



The girl with a bad complexion

This Thanksgiving I am Fat and Grateful (these things are not related)

Obligatory image reminder that this post will at some point mention Thanksgiving. Also I drew this today at work. Be jealous.

They say that you know you’re gaining weight when black guys start hitting on you.

I’m not sure if anyone says this.

But I know I am gaining weight because aside from black guys hitting on me and the self-abusive conversation I have with myself each morning about the progression of my third trimester (I’m not pregnant), I recently got a speeding ticket. I know that is not a measurable factor here, but I have never been ticketed in the past. This is typically what happens when I get pulled over:

I lean out the window and ask, frantic and alarmed:


As if I am being pulled over to counsel him on marital troubles or American Idol voting techniques. He replies something about a child chasing a ball, and no crossing guard around, and federal imprisonment. I sigh, relieved, and hand him my license, unable to find my insurance or car registration.

After about 12 minutes of probing questions, among other things 😉 I am asked to avoid schools zones and any properties containing live, white children, and detour through the ghetto anytime I want to drive recklessly.

Pretty solid.

But unfortunately that only works when your body is not protruding past the restraint of your seat belt and your eyes aren’t being forced back into their sockets by pounds of cheek and eyebrow fat. Therefore I maintain that the only explanation for my receiving a ticket is the blubber effect. Definitely not the driving 53 in a 25. No. That can’t be it.

I’m blaming my weight gain on a number of factors, most of which I will not have the time or patience to tell you about. Here are three I can stomach. Hehehe. I’m so clever.

1. My ever increasing American guilt. Perhaps it is my preference to radical liberal politics over false patriotic conservative politics that results in the inordinate amount of time I spend each day mourning Middle Eastern people I will never meet. Not just because they’re dead. But mostly because they’re dead. This leaves me depressed and anxious and forced to resort to binging on food no Middle Eastern person would ever eat. Not just because they’re dead. But, really, mostly because they’re dead.

2. Sushi. When eaten by Japanese people or bulimic teenagers, sushi can be very healthy. But when eaten by an American woman at a Chinese buffet 10 minutes away from her house, once a weekend, sometimes twice, depending on how much she hates herself that day, it is not good. It is embarrassing. Not quite a “legitimate rape” comment, but definitely a “binders full of women.”

Too excellent to not be shared

3. Co-workers birthdays and other work-related food-oriented events. Every day in my office someone is either turning 50, hitting menopause, or inviting a politician to tour the school, all of which are equally disgraceful and handled with mass quantities of food. Even when I am trying to eat healthy I am bombarded with oatmeal cookies, or cheddar cheese slices, or Halloween candy hoarded away in my desk drawer. There is no escape!

I realize this doesn’t sound like a Thanksgiving Day post yet, but allow me to explain. My obsession with my weight sounds a little insecure. But I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m grateful that I am insecure and in a constant state of emotional anguish. Why? It keeps me from being a dick.

If you know anything about me, you know that the leading cause in my life is asshole prevention. If I lost weight and became confident and hot, I’d become even more self-involved and arrogant than I already am, and before you know it I’d be someone really evil like Kourtney Kardashian.

So to sum this whole thing up, this Thanksgiving I am grateful for many things.I am grateful for insecurities that keep me grounded. I am grateful for police officers that don’t tase me. I am grateful for the black guys who hit on me. I am grateful for my sister who is a registered dietician who will help me lose weight again. I am grateful for my boyfriend who I never talk about but exists quite fully in my life. I am grateful for the new wiper blades on my car.  But lastly I am  grateful for this, taken from the Facebook page of a person I actually know:

Doesn’t get much better than that.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! I hope you are all grateful for something (me).


The girl who last year was thankful for assholes, but this year is thankful for mouths. Ew.

Things I hate PLUS a Poll – Because your vote counts…sorta

I am overwhelmed with hatred today.

That’s not really true.

I am overwhelmed with anxiety over completely irrelevant things, but am masking it as hatred to make me appear more in control of my life. Because somehow irrational hate seems more stable than irrational anxiety. Like Hitler. Only cuter.

This is incredibly offensive. I’m so, so, sorry.

So I’m thinking that airing my grievances to a world of uninterested readers will help validate my instability, allowing me to wallow in narcissism, and force my beliefs upon others. Like Jehovah’s Witness. Only better. Way better.

Here we go.

Reasons Lena is Irrationally Hateful Today

1. People who talk about how sarcastic they are:

It’s like skinny girls calling themselves fat or Republicans calling themselves human. If you have to make a point of telling someone how sarcastic you are, you obviously are not very good at achieving true sarcasm. Unless you are being sarcastic when you say you are sarcastic, in which case, I feel great admiration for you, you clever little minx!!!

…but no one does that.


You, faceless woman, do not deserve to exist

2. #Hashtags:

I hate hashtags more than I could ever have anticipated hating anything.

There is nothing more disrespectful to the evolution of human communication than composing a barely intelligible statement about something completely irrelevant to humanity and following it with a hashtag to further explain what you failed to capture to begin with.

***UPDATE:  I just spent the last 15 minutes reading my own tweets and falling in love with myself. Apparently, there is something more disrespectful to the evolution of communication than hashtags–my existence.

3. Black Nail Polish

I don’t understand this trend, nor do I understand trends beyond the point of rejecting them on impulse. But the black nail polish trend makes me uncomfortable. Why? Because it’s ugly and ugly things shouldn’t exist outside of science fiction novels and Jersey Shore cast parties.

So why, sorority girls of the world? Why do you wear black nail polish? You look like you belong on The Hills. And if you aren’t familiar with The Hills, it is that really awesome TV show about why we should bomb California.

JK,  Brian Wilson!

Ok, so I realize these aren’t exactly earth-shattering revelations but I don’t have a lot of intellectual stimulation these days. Therefore, I am conducting the first and probably last, depending on the outcome, Girl with the Blog poll and I would like each and everyone of you to participate.

If you select “Other”, please explain yourself in the comments section. I will be waiting patiently on the edge of my seat.



The girl who ate 50 calories worth of Ice Breakers in the last 20 seconds