I guess that’s a phrase that teenagers and social media savvy adults say. And, presumably, your brand is sort of like your online identity that is superior to your real identity and you can use that brand to sell shit to people who think you’re actually a real human. That’s it, right?
Anyway, as it turns out, without having actually worked on it I already have a brand. And unintentionally I’ve been developing it continuously and recklessly for, like, my whole adult life.
My phone is so cracked that I can barely see anything on it. It’s like a little deconstructionist phone.
And the photo that potentially exemplifies me as a person the most:
In case you were wondering – that’s my diploma being used as a coaster for my Mickey’s. Also…my coffee table. Complete with a coffee cup filled with the crust of coffee from I don’t actually know how long ago.
I am used to being followed by a passel of cats like a crazy cat lady. But I have new visitors that have proven their dedication to being with me. Always
It is interesting to me that creatures that are meant to be less intelligent than me have better survival skills
Just like the evil character in that video game Fables, I am surrounded by flies. Flies with great instincts. Welcome home, little buddies.
Trash Fridge the Finale
Just like that weird song based off of those bible verses, there is a season for everything before you have to turn on it (or something?). And this was the season to empty out trash fridge. The fridge was so fecund with trash that it really couldn’t accommodate anymore even if I had wanted.
I gathered some support:
And faced my figurative, and more than likely literal, demons.
The heavenly light is like a taunt
Did I mention that there is a freezer that came with my refrigerator?
cause there is
Things were relatively fine. I managed to wage war with an oozing black liquid that reminded me of Hexxus from FernGully: The Last Rainforest
Remember me? I was just in hiding again
But like every war there is a particular battle that essentially determines the winner. And when it came to the final foe in The War of the Garbage Fridge (2011 -2013) I honestly couldn’t be sure who was going to come out the victor: me or vegan chili in the back of the fridge.
Before you start looking at following pictures, please play the following song.
But at the end. What was once filled with only garbage was left, a little shaken, a little barren, but filled with some edibles:
And this was the only expression I could think of that would accurately sum up really the whole experience.
Spot is letting me know that the person I truly let down was myself
Filed under apartment, food
Outside of this:
Funemployment has taken a dark turn to focus on Dre, cats, and Microsoft paint
I found the perfect welcoming sign to hang on my door to the apartment. If my neighbors weren’t concerned and confused by this
I can only imagine how they feel about this:
despite being a lady, he insists on calling me “dad”
And the boy that I am referring to?
My bouncing baby cat-son.
Happy Father’s Day, ya’ll. And happy Father’s Day to me, Liono calls me “Dad” after all.
It’s really easy to let things slip your attention when you live in a glorified shanty town of an apartment, resplendent with kitties.
So it was awesomely kind of Facebook to remind me of this:
How could I have been so neglectful toward my “hubby.”
I can’t imagine what I am searching online that continuously leads Facebook to believe that I am married with a husband I love, and not a cat-obsessed spinster that spent last night drinking cheap beer and reading comics.
Unless they were, of course, referring to this husband:
Since I can’t get a husband, I’ll just get some cats. My relationship with them is similar to a legally binding contract that tells my friends, family, and whatever God that one chooses to believe in that we will love and cherish one another until the other dies. Except with my cat husband he agrees to love and cherish me until I die in my sleep and he eats my face for survival.
It’s high time for an anniversary edition of You Life, but since this just occurred to me and I missed the date by four months I guess this is just a retrospect.
You Life started with an instructional guide on how to devastate some PBRs and then paint a kitchen table. Memories
And to celebrate that momentous occasion in the old apartment I’ve unearthed some gems
That is an omnipresent specter presiding over the battle of zombies vs unicorns
The glory that was the kitchen – with the masterpiece center stage
A better view of the unicorn side, before the 6th grade notebook tagging joined the battle
Clear view of the zombie side. That zombie has a bloody unicorn tail in his palm
But I feel strongly that the unicorns prevailed
Happy anniversary, You Life!