Bet Some Of You Wish You Were Not Connected To Me In Real Life...
Listen, funny shit is meant for screenshots, people.
Tonight, as I was spending money I don’t have at Hobby Lobby, I came across this. And I laughed a solid twenty minutes by myself. So, then I thought maybe that sounded a little crazy.
Many of you know what happened after that, because if I have you on Messenger, I sent this to you. Because it’s fucking hilarious. If anyone needs to be weaving a fucking handbasket right now, it’s those of you who hang out with me. Voluntarily.
Hey, that’s on y’all folk. I don’t forc- well, I mean, sort of, yeah, I’m a little pushy. It’s not necessarily that I’m needy, it’s more like, well, ya know… maybe a little needy. I want you to like me. Don’t be a dick about it, okay? Fuck.
Whatthefuckever. Moral of the story, it’s hilarious. And there will never be a single iota of me that feels bad for popping all up into your personal life with this type of dumb shit. I refuse to adult like an adult, and here is the end result of that refusal.
I know, it’s a whole lotta fucking trainwreck over here, and I’m not even Southern Ohio. This is special delivery trainwreck, folk, so woot, woot.
I feel like these past couple of weeks have been heaaaaaavy. Like, I have a kink in my neck (no, Christ, no CNC fetishists, not that kind. Back to the next to last row). I’ve been feeling like I ate one too many cinnamon rolls and laid down and now I can’t really sit fully upright. It’s super uncomfortable, and it doesn’t look good in my clothing.
Ew.
So, today, I’m not with the heavy. Y’all sit that shit right to the other side of the door, pick it up on your way out. Or don’t, I don’t give a fuck, Substack does the building maintenance here y’all. These aren’t my floors.
I took a break from the news tonight, chatted with a couple of my friends, basically fucked with some of y’all just because I like to remind you that I’m literally in your whole fucking area, and laughed at that pic for half of the night.
I don’t even have a fucking clue how I’m still running a business. It totally beats the fuck out of me too, y’all.
Well, ya know, Meghan, she kinda keeps me semi-on point. A little. In that direction anyway. And, Puffin likes food, a lot, so gotta at least make the grocery money. Outside of that, though.
This is what I have. Sorry if you thought it was adultier. It isn’t.
Okay, whatever. Here’s some shit that sometimes almost pays the bills:
I know y’all have been checking out the column in syndication over on the Good Men Project, right? This week, one of my personal favorites. Just what is so attractive about confidence? I think I almost sound like I know what I’m talking about, and that’s pretty fucking close to professionalism, in my book.
What else has been cookin’, good lookin’? I did that whole Top Writer in Feminism thing on Medium, and that’s still running, in case you haven’t heard me shamelessly self-promote this week. It is, and I have. Read me there, sometimes I get pretty close to professionalism there, also. Um, medium.com/@queenofthefuckboys. Of course.
Dave and I have still been jammin over on AaBFII on Quora. Dave does all of the labor, and I come through and smile and *wave in Queen*, as I know many of you suspect I do in most areas of my life.
You’re absolutely correct.
Working on a few other things, the Ron DeSantis Shamelessly Daddy column is jumping off this week. Yes, cease, also desist, blah blah. Those things aren’t happening. So, just meet me at the pre-arranged location, and don’t sign the guest registry. He can only get so mad, after that it’s really just maintaining a certain level of pissed off, and I don’t feel he’s in good enough shape for that. Just being honest.
That’s enough about me. Hope y’all are excellent. Step up to the glass, holler at your girl sometime. Or, I could just pop up in your fucking inbox with dumb ass screen shots while you’re trying to watch your shows with your significant other, because I don’t have that, so obviously encroaching on your time with your lady friend doesn’t bother me at all.
Holler at a Queen.
Love-
Q
Urban legend - and by that I mean the confident man part. They probably exist, somewhere, just not in my world.
No screenshots of the drapes though 🤣