...and vampires.

Somehow slipped my mind.
But one quick StumbleUpon later, now I have this.
A nekkid vampire/Ryan-Reynolds-with-a-5-o'clock-and-bird-dookie-in-his-hair themed menstrual pad for chunky days.


Seriously ladies. WHAT THE F.

p.s. I know some of you are going to try and buy this, but evidently there were enough die-hard Twilight fans out there that they've since sold out.

ugh, I feel like I've opened the Pandora's Box of disgusting fantasies.

Krazy Kats of Kathmandu

So recently my friend and I signed up to be extras in a movie.

This proved to be a mistake.
Warning sign #1 arrived when I learned we were going to rehearsing every week in Palm Springs.
Warning sign #2 was when I figured out that the casting call we responded to was asking for "Orientals"
Warning sign #3 reared its ugly head in the form of the subject matter of the play. The title was "Shakespeare's Cat". Not so bad. Until you dig a little deeper and learn that the movie is live action, doesn't actually involve real cats...just people dressed as cats, dancing to campy music sung by Peter, Paul, and Mary rejects. Did I mention that we got cast as part of a 5 ManCat gang that conveniently abbreviates into KKK?

So we arrive at the venue, learn our dance moves from our nipple pierced choreographer (I thought she was just reallly cold until Howard points out that one of them is ring shaped) and call it a day. Things start looking up.

Once rehearsal ends we hit a local bar called the "Fire House"-- walls are made of old brick, the bar is lined with the patterned steel you usually find adorning fire trucks, and there is a bright red functional fan larger than my actual room ventilating the place. We arrive right as happy hour hits, order some hot wings, nachos, cheese bread, and beer. Everything is gravy.

God bless the alcohol.