💀 weirdgirl zine 💜

the emotion that kept coming up this month was annoyance and irksomeness. moneybags gave us the liaison 80% of the way through a project, and zoid “quit” — haha — but came back obvs. I mostly trust janet, mark, and old bawby at work. moneybags is actually on our side. a tiny thing that made me laugh was when zoid’s 5yo nephew came on camera and told him, “your breath really stinks. what did you eat?!” i don’t know if i hit the mute button in time but xd. i never feel cute — i feel like a monster in a filth pile.

Creating something beautiful with my hands can center me like nothing else. There's something deeply satisfying about transforming raw materials into wearable art.  I love seeing easy things come together fast, or elaborate things get managed over time. Even a simple project feels like I'm j1zzing over a major victory. It actually can help people with pain and anxiety feel more peace of mind. My focus shifts from what my bod can't do to what my hands can create. It's meditation in motion, and it's dank as hell. The process requires patience like when you're waiting for that one dude to text you back, and/or precision like when you're putting on eyeliner in a car. Qualities that serve well with health conditions that make you feel like a dragon on fire. I'm gonna open  my Etsy shop  soon and stunt all my creations. In creativity, a person can find not just coping, but self-expression and thriving. And that's quite all right with me.

the premise?  hide the evidences.  meet liza: a perv-ass weirdo with a penchant for accidental urination who needs to hide a body (or two).  the gameplay involves increasingly ridiculous tasks: hiding a corpse, hiding another corpse, cleaning up a crime scene with a sponge, and generally grossinating everything in sight.  the art style is surprisingly cute, a stark contrast to the crotchular realness of the shocking muuuuuuurdahhhhh. it's a caveman quandary of adventurous twists and turns (maybe), a journey into the bonestripper of wack-ass taste. victim victoria clearly had it coming, what with her manspreading and stealing liza's pizza rollzzz. so these ads for “hide the evidences game” are actual garbage, but the kind of garbage you can't help but enjoy. 😂 just don't let your mom catch you playing it. crapness rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (for both ads, but they wanna be crappy, and we love them, sooooo…) did i download it? ads were funny but game seemed too dumb.

my studio is becoming a sacred place. i'm gathering supplies, creating a space that's part creative haven, part memorial to the buns gone by. thinking vampire, zombie, bunny puns everywhere. it's productive chaos. it's slowly but surely taking shape, becoming a reflection of my personality & my passions. studio space to an artist is more than a room – it's a statement; about survival, about creativity, about transforming ugly into pretty - or uglier sometimes, if you dig that (as i sure af do!). my boston fuzz loves might be gone, but their spirits are in every corner, making this a space where i can be myself, where i can create, where i can heal. & that's more valuable than anything.

Model Club's "Mystical Zen" photoshoot featured three stunning plus-size models: yoga instructor Audrey, our buddy Stephy, and of course Candy Elle. I’ve tastefully pixelated for boob privacy while showing the models' unique beauty & celebrating body positivity. This plus-size topless photoshoot gave me a chance to learn how to feel comfortable & empowered during a topless shoot. Audrey wore layered necklaces with dark stones & metallic accents. Her smoky eye makeup & deep red lip complemented the bohemian shoot style. Audrey helped pose and teach everyone how to get into the Zen zone. Her advice for aspiring models: Embrace your unique style. Let your authentic personality shine through your poses, for a truly captivating plus-size topless photoshoot so you’re comfy and it shows. Stephy’s multiple layered necklaces contrasted beautifully with her dark eye makeup and deep red lipstick. Stephy’s key tip was to talk a bit first. Communicate clearly with...

{from the 2024 archives…} dead milkman asked me out! he asked how i was feeling about him and i was deadass honest, i said i had a crush on him. so dead milkman asked if we could have a date. next weeeeeeek! so excited i canNOT wait until next week :) in the meantime, we’ve been texting a metric fuckton. he asked a bunch of opinions and input on my drugz preferences which, let’s be real, was smart, because i’m a fucking weed nerd. i have dispensary insider info, strain knowledge, and general stoner wisdom, so yeah, i’m kinda fascinating. xd we have jokes that the future for milk is 3d printed by ai mechanical cows. now we have cursed dairy memes. i wanna ask if oat milk is made from ai horses. i wonder if the ai cows know about the cursed dairy memes yet. probably not. dead milkman is tall, has big teeth, nice freckles, curly hairs, and some vague x/twitter armchair liberal energy. two baby mamas, zero serious anythings ever tho, but does parent to a degree. he’s very “woke” and claims...

  this ain't a business sim; it's a goddamn brothel simulator disguised as a mobile game. 😂😂😂  look at this shit: "courtesans" and "kept women" as purchasable assets?  deadass foul. a level 1 crook being taunted by a level 15 dumbshit custy surrounded by women who look like they're experiencing the blueborlz of forced servitude… mobile games about sexual exploitation? what an age we live in! 😂 the art style is…fine, i guess.  the only thing remotely amusing is how utterly tone-deaf it is.  it's like they actively tried to create the stupidest asscrackiest mobile game possible.  and they succeeded.  huzzah, assholes. huzzah. rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (9/5 stars for these assbuttons.)  

💾 dirty qwerty, #002: shits ahoy! captain on deck / captain overboard 💫 “ahoy” > “shit” 🧠 keyboard logic:  a > s: fat-thumb neighbors  h > h: no change. you a real one, h.  o > i: one tap off. o what an attention hoe.  y > t: another classic mistap — right next door. both are perfect openers, just in radically different genres. “ahoy!” = captain on deck. “shit!” = captain fell off… the poopdeck. like a curse of the wordscape… it turns “hello sailor” into “fuck my life.” this entry was brought to you by the letter H, the only true G in the pack! the more you know. 🌊 

Here’s a fun spooky one! Junkwad contacted me from the snap map. When I saw how close he lived I nearly shat myself! I made sure my loc was ghost, but named his street so he knew I knew where he is… had to make him feel extra special. **Queen:** marketing vis a vis new media, AR, VR, AI, IoT, etc). You've never met any other girls like me. Don't kid yourself, my friend. Now then. Tell me more about how I'm such a rebel. Please. **Junkwad:** See you just validated that. A rebel is different from Everyone else Exactly what you just wrot3? **Me:** No. A rebel is someone who is \*attempting\* to be different than everyone else for the sake of doing so. I know very well what words mean, I've been in academia for a long-ass time kid. **Junkwad:** Attempting? How do you know he/she isn't in fact? **Me:** I'm more of a... like... live and let live type of person. **Junkwad:** You are constantly in mania mode  **Me:** is Are you a psychologist? **Me:** Mine says I'm ...

Radical self-love. That’s radical, dude. “LoVe YoUrSeLf, LoVe YoUr BoDy.” It’s bullshit.  if there's one thing i've learned, it's that love hurts. but respect — that makes the world go round. it’s consistent. it’s practical. and even if you don’t love yourself, you should respect yourself. i mean, look at me. i've been through the wringer: the least of which are my ughhhh of a rare genetic illness, plus the life-altering car accident. left me stuck in bed, unable to move a muscle. but did that stop me? only kinda. not for long. my big ass fought its way back, regained my mobility, and shed 140-150 pounds in the process. it took me a very long time and my ass is still way big. but I’m working on myself, not standing still waiting for miracles. miracles aren’t coming. all i have is me. these days, i can honestly say that i… accept my body. i'm grateful for everything it can still do, even in the toughest times. at the end of the day, if i can just squeeze out one more...

tarot pull (wake & bake): five of swords -- power plays, petty drama, dumb wins that still feel like losses. zoid comes back, like nothing happened. zoom. just flicked right on. an hour late. it reminded me of that episode of seinfeld where george gets fired and just shows up like “smell my finger,” i live here now.  i’m still pissed about his dumb jokes and the way he bails, to say nothing of how he makes a 20-minute meeting take 6 hours… buuutttttt he’s back in the mix, trying to slide right in like a begrimed pixel pussy. that morning, i spilled a huge cup of hot cinnamon-infused tea all over myself during a zoom call. no warning, just fiery chaos -- burns on my hand, stained clothes, soaked chair. like a gender-fluid cancer cake baptized in yuck. had to suppress a full meltdown because, work call. later, a trip to dollar tree for supplies was a bust -- no burn relief, no stain removal, no emotional support witch hazel. felt like wandering a cursed charnel house full of ...

Let’s talk about turning your terlit time into some sacred-ass self-care. This is not some normie meditation - this is real, raw temple of doo enlightenment! First off, set your mood. Maybe light a candle, get your phone ready with some chill tunes (or doom metal), and settle in for what might be a Noah's Ark situation: because that shit always comes in pairs. Now, visualize all the stanky tea in your life - the greaselickers from Florida, that one dickhole who cut you off in traffic, LLF and their whole bullshit vibe, your bff’s golddigging spouse and their latest drama - all that narsty toxic waste collecting in your gut like some metric fuckton of emotional doit. When nature calls (ad motherfucking nauseam sometimes), imagine all that negativity being sucked into what's about to exit your body. Whatever's been stuck in your craw, it's time for that Triple Wrap-Around release. As you're sitting there in your temple of doo, breathing through whatever's happenin...

{repurpose the flaps as mini soap bars for the guest bathroom. ooh la la!} 🧼 venus comfortglide razor – final grade: c- + what ruled: the handle is fine, like usual venus ones i’ve had. good head, like venus usually gives 🤣 i will say that i did a microplane of my face real quick, def smoother. changing the blade refills wasn’t too bad. took a second, but can be done. my last bunny was named venus (rest in power, veenie 🐰🖤), so i always feel like it’s good luck to use venus razors. – what sucked: this “comfortglide” bullshit? yikes on bikes. 😬 what assclown marketers thought this was a good idea?? had to google and discover it was soap bars; like wtf? my mustache still didn’t get all the way shaved, and it should. the dumb comfort flaps or whatever got in my fuckin way. the scent is okay; supposed to be white tea. it smells like coconuts or something. i’m annoyed i had to pay extra for these weird-ass soap flaps because venus discontinued the beloved soleil and twilight ...

i decided to be brave and tell this guy about my porphyria. he left me on read. guess my medical history wasn’t as captivating as he hoped. before that, i’d preemptively called him out: “you fw fat girls, or you gonna ghost me because you want a slutty 10 and not a demisexual 3?” his reply was a whole essay about how he “fucks with girls with size, as long as they have confidence,” followed by some weird rant about fat girls’ self-esteem—and then the kicker: “i’m just hoping you have legs—most the time when i meet girls with only face pictures they’re in wheelchairs or have a cane or something.” oh i think the FUCK NOT. i blocked him fast. i’m not settling for someone who measures my worth by whether i can walk or what i use to get around. fucker. i deserve someone who cares about me as a person, not just my physical ability. honestly, why’s it so damn hard to find someone to just go see bands with? it’s exhausting navigating this DaTiNG landscape where superficial bullshit is all that...

if your life was an rpg, this is the cutscene where you’d enter the magic shop… as you open the door, the dim room greets you with the subtle scent of baltic amber incense, and freshly mown hay. off to the side is a miniature barn, complete with little half-chewed haystacks. inside you see the large black lionhead rabbit, known as a voodoo woman named phyllis, is snoring soundly. from behind the counter, i smile and wave in a sincere (but totally fuckin goofy-ass) way. i’m just wearing a tshirt and jeans. my mystic robe is at home, because i forgot that i was showing up in your cutscene today. (sorryyy!) ⸻  👑 hello, beautiful peeps… kings, queens, and all my in-betweens — welcome to my sup3r magic shop!  i’ve made some one-of-a-kind gemstone bracelets. each piece is a carefully crafted work of spiritual energy and luxurious intention. they’re are made with genuine, spiritually charged gemstones and paired with color-coordinated vintage artisan jeweler’s glass beads. each bead...