💀 weirdgirl zine 💜

batman isn't just a franchise; it's a religious experience. i want everyone to agree to make it the new bible of our confusing modern times. there's something about the gotham universe that gets under my skin. it's not just the plot, though the plot is fantastic. it's the atmosphere, the way dc crafts the lore, all the things moving below the surface & characters all out to be number one… the subtle hints & foreshadowing...it's masterful. i'll probably tell this joke ad nauseam because that's how much i love it. seriously, i'm a geek for it cuz i've never connected on this level. it speaks to the darkness within us all, even the good guys have the same parts of ourselves we try to hide. batman isn't a superhuman; he's just a flawed asshole of a dude like us who's making it happen.💜

gurrrrls, grab your altar plates and brace yourselves — it’s about to get meaty in here. i see footlong frank rolling up, heavy loaded and dripping with weenz like he’s come to bless us with the ultimate feast. that man never disappoints. 🙌🏻 this year? he’s doubled down — a glorious mountain of meat piled high, and the whole circle rises up, erupting into a chorus of hallelujahs and amens. jill steps forward, leading us in the sacred prayer: “dear franky, we thank thee for this bountiful spread. may these weenz fuel our fiery souls tonight as we weave our tales of fuckboy folly. and we pray — oh, how we pray — for even greater meats ere next fuckboy dawn.” gratitude expressed, franky swings into action, passing out the goods. i swear, dirty dan almost shed a tear witnessing this sacred tradition in full glory. the fire crackles louder, the heat rising as our feast is laid bare. now — storytime, bitches. let those tall tales of terror and triumph flow while we choke down franky’s lege...

tarot card: the tower -- sudden change, upheaval, revelations. getting fed up with the unreliable pizza guy who always arrives late or with the wrong order. it’s like, dude, you’re an analogy for everything wrong with this city -- flaky, disappointing, and smellin’ like an ass-free palace… where no one owns their shit.  zoid’s behavior is dumb. he kept making jokes about “too many skins in the mashed potatoes” -- gaggy diarrhea dubstep tier. i bet his breath still smells bad, just like his nephew said that one time xd.  moneybags is weirdly on our side buuutttttt janet is suspicious of her. the breaking point for me was when zoid bullied people -- specifically ole bawby -- over who is a bigger breaking bad fan. i’m done with that horseshit. buckle this.

Dating advice for the chronically ill? Hm let’s see… the biggest is not to let randos zap your energy. Don't date dicks: move on quick. Life's too short to waste on soulless assholes, especially when you've got limited energy due to a blood factory that's being churlish. The dating pool is filled with people who give you blueborlz without ever satisfying. Learn to recognize energy vampires early or you'll end up with some joik who makes his mom drive you to the store to get condoms, condoms, condoms and brags to her like he's in a locker room. Wahw!!! It sucks being rejected and used, but sometimes things b work okay if the person is nice. These moments make wading through disappointments worthwhile. You can have some good friends and partners in crime. But always remember: being single is infinitely better than dating someone with the personality of a Bristol scale 1 and/or 7. Neither constipation nor diarrhea can be fun or healthy all the time.

this gorgeous mineral is dripping spiritual journey protection like nobody's business! it's filled with meditation clarity, & that’s kinda like having your own personal guru in stone form. when you pair it with sapphire, you're getting that crown chakra energy that'll have your third eye jizzing love & light. mix amethyst with garnet & you're balancing those spiritual vibes with some slow-burn healing. at 7 on the mohs scale, this stone is tough enough for all your mystical shit while keeping your spirit vibes aligned. its calming energy is perfect for when you're feeling some depresh or need some mental clarity. i used faceted amethyst beads on this chunky, bezel-set amethyst bracelet for a bold wrist stack. {wrist stack total: 30-45 tcw, by qu33ni3}

still cool and damp outside, occasional rain tapping the windows. slightly milder toward the end tho, still wintery but starting to ease — like the weather’s tryna decide if it wants to commit to spring or nah 🌧️ still February. still deliciously dark. i moved my workspace to a different table but it’s the same clutter, same tools. i’ve started making little travel bead kits for friends. it helps me feel useful. candy elle called just to vent about gossip at the castle. i told her people who gossip are compensating for lack of their own lives. she laughed, said she’d quote me. writersgroup asked if i’m still awake. “it’s three days later,” i wrote back. “here i am, conscious as a waking person.” that’s how it feels: days blur. nights are heavier. i hold beads in my palm like worry stones. sometimes i think about my ex. not in a longing way, just in a trauma way. then i drill another hole and keep going.  

in deb's meat locker, we were crafting a film - & building an artistic vision in layers and dimensions, for multiple projects. audrey, aka naked meathook girl #3, was a performer and a critical piece of our creative puzzle. she wasn't supposed to do anything but wiggle and scream, but those takes were brutal. fitting was tense, blood kept needing to be reapplied, screaming became tedious. but audrey was a bad bitch, powering through each moment with determination. had to go for precision in every detail. a flesh-tone unitard was the uniform of the meathook girls - fun fact: sometimes in a nude scene, peeps wear a flesh tone body stocking. especially critical when managing naughty bits or those free-floating elements, any liquidy things like blood or other dripppppz. mike g's makeup was magic. the horror one was more monochrome, with pale pink lips designed so the blood would pop. the special effects team had their own delicious secret sauce. i added my signature touch -...

  for some people, authenticity is big and loud and obvious. for others, it’s quieter — almost secret. mine shifts depending on the day. it’s rarely tidy. for me, being real means doing an internal inventory. like scanning the storage chests in my minecraft base — what do i actually have? what parts of me are usable today? what’s been gathering dust? i work with what’s there. not the highlight reel. the scraps, the wonky bits, the stuff i wish i could trade in — that’s part of it too. there are days when authenticity looks like soft clothes, canceled plans, and sitting with a feeling before deciding what it even is. there are days when it looks like stillness, not statements. it’s not curated. it’s not crafted for approval. it’s just all of me showing up — even the odd, inconvenient, hard-to-summarize parts. and that realness in its shifting, glitchy form is the thing that reminds me i’m not pretending to be here... i actually am here.

your first meditation is going to feel like chasing a fart in the wind. stick with it! the struggle is real: let’s get one thing straight: meditation is hard. your brain is going to fight you like a stubborn toddler. you’ll sit down, close your eyes, and immediately remember that embarrassing thing you said in 1803. that’s normal. meditation is about showing up even if you suck. new things are often weird, like new shoes or learning to ride a bike. but when you learn how to use it, you can go to cool new places. even if meditation isnt mind blowing the first time you use it, stick with it. the payoff is worth it.

life's a mega piece of assbust sometimes. trauma, mental illness, a bod that feels like it's in a zombie apocalypse... & let's not forget ableist asshats who can't handle my sicccness or my thicccness. but amidst the chaos, i like to write. it's my therapy, my escape, my creative outlet. it's how i process the world's narsty side effects on my lovely personality 😂 & find those little nugz of sweetness. i don't write for validation; i do it bexause there’s so much stuff in me. my writing is a potent mix of high & low culture – think rockstar black cocktails with a dash of grey goose. we put the potty humor up on the same shelf as the shakespeare. it’s raw, honest, & maybe a little bit terlit centric… i'm not trying to shock; i'm just being myself. if you connect with it, cool. if not, that's cool too. there's plenty of other stuff out there. but if you're looking for something a little different... well, you might...