Suck It, Martha

It’s getting all kinds of O. Henry up in here.  (Do people outside of Greensboro, North Carolina know anything about O. Henry or his stories?  I swear we learned to recite “The Gift of the Magi” in kindergarten.  I guess they wanted to prove we could produce things other than cotton and tobacco back home.  Mmm, home.  I bet they don’t have this much snow.  I might need a field trip.  Say, it’s kind of early in a post to have already spent this much time in parenthesis, doncha think?  But I don’t want to go.  It’s warm in here.  Oh, fine.)

Why Didn't I Try This Look While Bald?

My hands look like I tried to cuddle with Pin Head.  No, I guess that’s not quite right because all the sharp points are in his head instead of tearing through the flesh on my fingers.  So it would be more correct to say my hands look like I tried to cuddle with Pin Head if both sides of all the metal barbs in his head had been sharpened to jagged pricks.  Heh.  Pricks.

You know what you should do when your hands and fingers are nothing but a medley of cuts and scabs?  Eat buffalo wings.  Because nothing feels better than hot sauce eeking into your open wounds.  Then, while your hands are still greasy and covered in cayenne pepper, rub your eyes.  It’s like the most fun ever.

Right I still haven’t really covered why my hands look like the meat they serve at Taco Bell, have I?  Well if you remember, this is where Isabella has been sleeping.

Glamorous, No?

But now?  After approximately 10 minutes of measuring, 947 hours fighting with my sewing machine, 3 hours applying Betadine and band-aids, 5 hours of ripping out bad seams, 2 hours re-measuring, 422 hours back on that bitch of a sewing machine, 3 blown electrical fuses, 15 minutes at CVS purchasing more first aid supplies, 1 hour begging Rocco to sew on the buttons, and approximately 17 bottles of wine, she’s sleeping here.

Still Needs Rhinestones

Yes.  I’m a nerd – a profusely bleeding, crazed nerd.

I was cutting the batting to stick in between the layers of fabric and Rocco was all, “You better double that up.  Isabella has a lot of ass.”

Fucker.  Isabella is sensitive.  In fact, she’s so sensitive that I made a little pillow for her neck which I sewed into the lining.

Why Yes, Those ARE Pearls

So here’s where it get all O. Henry.  Isabella, grateful for her new home is practically begging to be played.  But her big, mean, steal strings just rip these scabs right off.  My fingers hurt too much to play.  Ain’t that a bitch.

You know what else is a bitch?  Listening to Herbert complain about his cold, un-padded case.  But that little diva is going to have to suck it up until I buy some more neosporin.

Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart.  Now Martha?  Got any tips for pulling broken needles out of my fingers?


  1. Chick, that thing looks awesome! I want my own cocoon case! I’m tall with medium booty (hopefully) and an achy neck from… well we won’t go into that but let’s just say Ben is not Gay. Ha!

  2. Very nice. Isabella better appreciate the painstaking labor of love you underwent. You even defended her big butt-I mean-full figure in the process.

  3. Bee-you-te-full! Can you make me a sleeping bag? MAKE ME A SLEEPING BAG! No, just kidding.

    I freak out if I don’t have at least two tubes of Neosporin the house at any given time. (It’s so good for post de-unibrowing irritation.)

  4. 1. That’s super pretty and I’m in awe of your sewing skill.
    2. Needle-nosed pliers. (I once sewed through my thumb with my sewing machine and the needle broke off inside. Wanna see the scar?)
    3. Whenever I see a picture of Pinhead I want to make one of those woven potholder things on his skull.
    5. It would make me marvelously happy if you taught Isabella (or Herbert) to play Cotton Fields. My dad used to play it for me on his guitar.

  5. Add “Sewing” to Cotton, Tobacco, O’Henry, and Lovely Uke playing ladies, on the list of North Carolina exports.

    PS – I LOVE Isabella’s ample caboose.

  6. AWWWW so cute! You talented lady.

    It’s weird though, after playing guitar for years I’m used to steel strings so long as I don’t play too long in one go. I found the nylon strings of the uke more painful because they take more pressure to hold down and are thicker therefore hurt my poor delicate finger tips more. Like making them feel all bruised.

    Also, we have a candy bar up here called “OH HENRY”, does that count? I can’t remember if they’re available south of the border or not…

    I know, how fascinating.

  7. Elly! It’s beautiful! Blood, sweat, and tears indeed.

    And Elly? I really really need a case for my keyboard. It’s not meant to be portable, so it doesn’t have a case. But I heft it back and forth to a friend’s house to practice. And I NEED a case. So if you ever decide to open shop, I’ll be your first costumer. I’ll include bandaids! And wine!

  8. I would like to lay down with Isabella in her padded room that doesn’t look like snow and have her sing to me. I’m probably not tiny enough to fit in there though. *big red lips pout*

    I also read “fun ever” as “Fun Fever” which maybe closely linked to my state of mind right now.

  9. I just told my husband he was legally obligated to buy me this for Valentine’s Day:

    Then, I found ukuleles on Amazon for $20, and told him he’s legally obligated to buy me one in a pretty color for Valentine’s Day.

    Which is stupid, because I don’t have time to play the instruments I already know. So I’m probably just going to drink a lot of Irish coffee out of my new mug and spew insults at the uke for being so unplayable.

    1. It’s the Mahalo, right? That’s what Herbert is…just painted up all fancy. Oh shit, I think I feel a giveaway coming on.

      But seriously? It’s super easy. If I can do it, a zygote can.

      And that mug? Fanfuckintastic! Now get a matching uke in red!

  10. can i have her box? i’m about to quit my job and move to the sunset pier on key west. i kinda have a big ass, too, so it seems like a good fit.

    1. OMJ, can I move there with you? That is seriously where I want to live when I decide to finally say, “to hell with all of you!” I mean, we can string beads and then sell our wares every night during the sunset celebration and sleep with the smokin’ hot sexy fire dancers and mock the poorly dressed tourists….ummmm, I’m sorry, I just got so excited I was typing all of that at warp speed.

      I looooove Isabella, can we steal her and take her with us, we will use her gorgeous new digs to collect money as we play her and sing for tips! (which means Elly, you’re coming too. Elly on Uke, patty on drum, me……ummmm, there!!)

  11. Holy bullfeathers, lady!! That’s friggin’ gor-GEE-us! well done you! 🙂 And I bet Isabella is sleeping tight.

    1. Good question. All I can say for sure is it looks pretty silly when empty and crumpled in a corner. Then again, so do all those cereal boxes. It might be time for me to take out the recycling.

  12. So… Guess where I am from? Well, we bought a house in Kernersville last year, but still… any time you need a bucket of Stamey’s shipped to you you just let me know.

    Hope the fingers feel better!

  13. I want a uke case like that and I don’t have a uke. “Say, it’s kind of early in a post to have already spent this much time in parenthesis, doncha think?” I’m going to be seriously thinking about that brilliant line all day, which is amazing because I’m usually thinking about the Mad Men episodes I’m now watching on Netflix.

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