Twerking at the Bone Church

I had lots of good things scheduled for my life this week but I've had an unexpected and uncharacteristic bout of crankiness.  I'm not sure how it happened... maybe it's because I haven't eaten a vegetable in 4 days or maybe it's because my cuticles are dry and I'm PMSing but it's most likely related to the fact that I threw my back out like an early '90s sitcom storyline and have been delightfully miserable since the weekend.

I'm not sure how it happened... maybe my chair at work is wonky or maybe I should eat healthier foods so my bones won't crumble and grind on each other causing extreme agony but it's most likely because I'm too old to be trying to teach myself how to twerk like I did last Friday night after a few too many glasses of wine.

But this girl makes it seem so fun as she's "Twerking at the library."  Twerking for nerds.  Nerking.  I mean, who doesn't like books so what else I'm I gonna do with all this *gestures emphatically to all dis azz in dem jeans* other than get in library and make it clap?

Seriously, please go watch this video.

"Ssshhhhhh...."  Be respectful.

Once you get the momentum going you really just ride the jiggle so it's not too difficult.  What IS hard is starting and stopping gracefully so you don't look like an old white lady who just drank some boxed wine out of a mason jar that happened to find some twerking videos on youtube and tried to see what would happen while her cat looked on in the mirror with her judgey eyes and FUCK YOU CHARLEMAGNE I COULD BE IN A RAP VIDEO.

But only one rap video because I woke up the next day and couldn't get out of bed.  I'm blaming the office chair because I'm pretty stoked about my new career in BILF rap videos. That's Bloggers I'd Like to Fuck, obviously.

So I slowly made a pallet on the hard and welcoming floor and played on my laptop sideways and watched Superman movies all day.  I can do all things through a young Christopher Reeves who strengthens me. 

Between pretending not to peek at a certain spandex-clad bulge and wondering who Margot Kidder had to blow to get that job I did find these pictures of Sedlec Ossuary or 'Church of Bones' in the Czech Republic which felt fitting considering the mangled state of my vertebrae.

Yep, that's a chandelier and Pinterest has been no help in helping me try to DIY this shit.  Apparently it helps to have 40,000 human skeletons handy.

Twerkin' at the bone church, twerkin' at the bone church...

Something about this place is definitely helping to alleviate my crankiness.  Or maybe it was the grilled cheese made with pimento cheese and pepperoni that I just made myself followed by a dark chocolate chaser.  It's the universally-recognized cure for back pain.

Those lying fuckers.  It still hurts.  I've been walking like a duck all gawddamned day and because of all the salt I ate I'm bloated now too.  Crankiness back to Threat Level: Bitch on Wheels.

Seriously, get me some wheels because it hurts to walk and I need to go pee...

But this angel of death is helping lift my mood again.  

So is this bird.  Y'all, it's like they have a pet!  Dawww...

all photos from here

I'm still going to the chiropractor tomorrow.

And then the Czech Republic after that.  

I'll try to not twerk on the plane but I'll definitely be twerkin' in front of that baby angel's face. He likes it.

Update:  I went to the chiropractor for the first time in twenty years today and though I had to suffer the indignity of an open smock with neon pink gym shorts underneath and questions about my bowel movements, I feel much better.  Of course I now know I have some kind of degenerative spine disease but I'm sure this basket full of supplements will surely take care of it.

Chiropractors.  Gawd bless them.  They can tell me whatever they want as long as they make my back pop in such a sweet symphony of pain relief.  

The fine art of embroidery and vulgarity.

Maybe it's the 18th century Quaker in me, but I have a special affinity for needlework and embroidery.  Something about the tiny details appeals to my Virgo nature and the gendered nature of the craft is something any feminist hate likes.

It's hard for me to not squee over a turn-of-the-century sampler:

Sampler from 1751 here

or even a more... modern... example of embroidery like this - and I quote - "cum rag" aka "Tidy Cloth:"

buy yours at Tidy Cloth!

As a feminist I hate like this too.  Just in a different way.

I need a Tidy Cloth for my mind after seeing that.

Everybody seems to be on the embroidery bandwagon and if you want accurate anatomical diagrams of your vagina on an embroidery hoop you can find it in spades on Etsy.  

But when I saw these embroidered pieces by Ana Teresa Barboza (not on Etsy) it was refreshingly impressive.

Before everyone started embroidering fallopian tubes we had embroidered black and white found photographs, pages of science books decorated with French knots and my personal favorite: embroidered portraits of current pop culture icons.

Where else do you go after seeing the entire Wu Tang Clan rendered in yarn including Ol' Dirty Bastard with a gold lurex grill?  

If anyone remembers this artist kindly pass it on to me.  I saw embroidered ODB before the age of Pinterest.

And these may not have the gangsta quality of Wu Tang nor the cervical quality of my cross stitched lady parts but they seem to strike a happy medium.

When I was younger I actually did a lot of needlework which cemented my cool kid status in the 5th grade.  Nothing says 'I'm going to be a cat lady and have a blog in 15 years!' more than embroidering a howling wolf on a pillowcase for your closest 10 year old friends.

And 15 years later: done and DONE.

Just think if I could have stuck with it I could have been an amazing artist rather that embroiders photographs rather  than a wine-dependent, Internet addict with a box full of fading yarn skeins in my closet.

Or I could have made this:

Vagina Dentata by Scarlet Tentacle

Which I really hope someone buys for me.  

Just look at how accurate the teeth are!

A cabin of my post-apocalyptic dreams.

Last weekend felt like fucking 12 degrees here and we have this white shit coming from the sky... I'm scared.  Is it nuclear ash? Is that what they mean by winter?  WHAT IS THIS ARE WE GOING TO DIE?!

This weekend it was 70 degrees and there's this big ball of hot yellow in the sky... I'm scared.  Is the atmosphere exploding? Is this what they mean by winter? WHAT IS THIS ARE WE GOING TO DIE?

*grabs Charlemagne, box of wine and mixed CD of early '90s R & B jamz and heads to bathtub to await planetary destruction*

If we are slowly approaching a post-apocalyptic new world order or maybe just... Spring, I'd really enjoy to spend it somewhere nice.

With some sweet music.

Like a rustic cabin that looks abandoned but deceptively cost 7 jizzillion francs.  Possibly in Switzerland like where these are.  But I'm not picky, I already live near the mountains which is another climate zone completely.  (Hillbilly weather)

I like how the windows are boarded up but really artistically swank-like to keep out possible zombies and rogue bands of traveling survivors ready to steal your hoard of tampons and beef jerky.  

Seriously, you know you'd kill for feminine hygiene products after the apocalypse.

Or CDs.  

I'd probably want a mixed CD of early '90s jamz I saved from my former life because you're going to have to repopulate the earth with the leftover Doomsday Preppers people and they can't all be hot.  You're gonna need some help to set the mood because that can of Spam ain't working.

Unless you like Spam... I don't know your (post-apocalyptic) life.

I'd probably be asked to repopulate the earth with one of those guys that breathes really heavily through his mouth even when just sitting down and always seems to have bloody cuticles. 

I will definitely need the smooth stylings of Keith Sweat and friends (and perhaps some mittens for him) to make this thing happen.

For the future of our peoples.

I think I'd be more fertile if things were to happen in this kitchen.  

Definitely in front of that fireplace.  I would produce really smart babies - doctors, metalsmiths, people who can tell the poisonous trees from the not poisonous trees - all professions you'd need in a new world if you treat my ovaries sweetly with a modern rustic lodge full of great MCM furniture.  It's a scientific fact.

Also a scientific fact is that exposed lumber and beautiful views will probably get you a quiverfull of lumberjacks for Jeezus.  

My womb is glorious and takes requests.

All images from Marie Claire Maison and probably a year old but don't judge.

Much like my former life of making mix CDs for my friends.

Obviously my children (of the New Earth) will have great taste in music AND architecture.