One (inauguration) day in Margaritaville: A guide

I don’t know if you’ve heard but we’ve got some BAD HOMBRES out there y’all. These BAD DUDES are out there, they exist, and they are serving some SUB-PAR”so-called” margaritas. When every restaurant in town not only offers, but boasts about the superiority of their house margarita (SAD!) what is a New Mexican to do?

Margarita Cocktail Illustration Print by PaigeClarkPrints on Etsy:

This was a job for only the specialist of all special force teams, one specifically trained in the EXTREME VETTING of all lime and tequila based cocktails, one composed of individuals willing and able to begin drinking on a weekday at 11:30 AM.

Luckily I am #blessed with knowing precisely such a force. A coalition who not only understands the value and importance in a well-executed margarita, but who also possesses the strength and courage to stand up for what’s right and speak the truth:

Not all margaritas are created equal.

And so, we decided to ring in this presidency in the only truly appropriate way: irresponsibly and as inebriated as humanly possible. Don’t even ask how we celebrated MLK day.

clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.


  • First up on our panel, to the left to the left we have Ms. Jennifer Wright. Hailing from Tucson, AZ she enjoys a well-balanced margarita and vibrant lip color. As the day progressed, we learned that by well-balanced what she meant was sour-as-fuck.
  • Next is Melanie “Salt-Hater” Aragon. My notes specify that she is an alcohol polygamist, which I think was somehow supposed to convey that she holds no strong opinion about margaritas in particular…but I cannot be sure.
  • Our third member, Colin “we aren’t drunk, we’re just obnoxious” Baillo is our resident Anti-Tequila advocate and lime aficionado. He prioritizes all existent flavors other than tequila in his margaritas, and nurses a chronic low-key obsession with limes.
  • Last and definitely least, Kallie Red-Horse just came for the chips and sweeping generalizations. But mostly the chips.

In honor of the day’s events (namely the disintegration of our country’s political and moral infrastructure and dignity writ large) we placed our scores of each establishment’s beverage along the Trump-tastic scale for thematic cohesion’s sake (something I personally prioritize over virtually all else. Except chips. And limes.)

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Image result for trump with taco bowl

Additionally, it bears mentioning that there was tangential criteria that played into our evaluations. Namely, limes and chip proficiency. Ole!

El Patron

We began our day as arguably no person should: drinking an alcoholic beverage 11 am. El Patron was our first stop. Little did we know that despite touting quite an extensive selection of tequilas and drinks to put said tequila in, El Patty’s self-proclaimed award-winning marg was to be unequivocally the group’s least favorite of the day.

The Casa De Patron can best be described as the finest, aged Fresca blended with a sugar-heavy simple syrup and topped off with a few drops of tequila or as Jen oh so eloquently phrased it: “Mine fucking failed.”


felicita sala illustration: cardnest                              …:

The drink is listed on menu as containing Patron silver tequila, triple sec, and a splash of OJ. All of which sounds delicious, so I can only surmise that the sickeningly sweet quality of the beverage comes from the highly-toted, house-made margarita mix.

Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, there was non-existent lime squeezing action: “It looks more like a cockroach than a lime” -Colin 

Final Scores

Jennifer: 2.5

Melanie: 0 SAD!

Colin: 2

Kallie: 1



Our next stop was the tried and true NM classic, Sadies. We decided to branch out a bit and all get different margarita variations for our second beverage of the day.

Silver Coin: silver tequila, Cointreau, lime juice

A little too sweet for our fair Jen, but she liked it more than the previous one.. which says pretty much nothing. Colin couldn’t taste the tequila, so in that respect was pleased. 

Santa Fe: silver tequila, cranberry juice

a.k.a. the margarita for the person who doesn’t like margaritas. While Mel enjoyed this, it in no way looked/tasted like a margarita.

Prickly Pear: Casa Amigo silver tequila, prickly pear nectar, sweet and sour, lime

Didn’t like it, drank it anyway. VERY SWEET.


Across the board it was agreed that the limes, chips, and salsa were miles better than the previous establishment but you could have probably guessed that.

Final Scores

Jen: 3.5

Mel: n/a

Col: 3

Kal: 2


El Pinto

New Mexico                                                                                                                                                      More:

Just one really heinously expensive slash awkward Uber ride away, we arrived at El Pinto where an undecided amount of presidents have visited for some reason. They have yogaritas on SUNDAZE which is pretty damn sweet.

House Margarita

Pretty standard, delicious (it IS a margarita after all) butttt nothing to write home about.

Avocado Margarita 

Basically a smoothie, but with alcohol (or in other words, the perfect drink). FAIR WARNING: If you don’t like avocados it should be obvious to not order this, but even the avocado ambivalent crowd should stay far, far away because it you are consuming ten avocados minimum and it tastes exactly like it sounds. 

Jalapeño Margarita

Just spicy enough, this was frankly just a damn good margarita my friends. If you are planning on having more than one perhaps it is not the ideal choice but the one I had was amazing. 

Final Scores

J: 3.5

M: 3

C: 3.5



Albuquerque, New Mexico. My favorite New Mexican  food!:

A personal fave of mine, I expected to C-town to straight up blow all the others out of the water. The swanky, velvet-walled back room is what I can only assume is like a trip straight back to the 70’s. And while they certainly delivered, honestly it was not as mind-blowing as I expected.

There is one thing for certain however, when you come to Cervantes ask for Carl Kyle, because “Carl’s Kyle’” when it comes to marg suggestions and providing free chips. *It bears mentioning that while chips had to this point been graciously provided free of charge, at Cervantes you have to pay for them and this impacted the score. Our decision to take tequila shots also impacted the score*

We stuck to two classics, recommended by out pal Carl Kyle.

Silver Coin: Herradura silver tequila, Grand Marnier, lime juice

This one was fairly standard, it is a solid option if you are looking for a good margarita. We had nothing to complain about per-se but it wasn’t anything particularly interesting.

Grand Gold: Not sure what is in it exactly but can safely assume it involved Cuervo gold.

Carl’s Kyle’s recommendation, would and likely will order again

Final Scores

J: 2.75

C: 3

K: 3



Indisputably the crowd favorite, which may or may not be due to it’s placement on the day’s agenda. Whatever the reason, they kept the chips flowing and the margaritas..also flowing. Ali was there too.

Aguamiel: Cazadores resposado tequila, st germain, fresh lime juice, and muddled cucumber

This one was across the board decided as the best of the day, the cucumber is refreshing and the st. germain zippy and it was just amazing you guys. I want one right meow. 

Zacarita: House margarita mix made with Sauza blue 100% agave tequila, triple sec, and fresh lime.

At  4 dollars a pop if you are a student, or say that you are student and really aren’t, it is without a doubt the best bargain. It was sour enough for Jen, and had just the right amount of tequila for Col. The price tag was a welcome sight for our band of wayward drinkers at this point in the day.

Mezcal Manhatten: Vida Mezcal, Solerno Blood Orange Liquer, Aztec Chocolate Bitters and Sweet Vermouth

This was Colin’s first choice, before switching to something…else which I conveniently forgot to write down but am pretty certain was the Zacarita because we were all slowly diminishing what little cash we had to our names. 

Final Scores








I am not sure which drinks we had at Andaluz, our last stop on the Tour de Margaritaville 2017.  I do happen to recall they were delicious, and that the bartender is an alright guy I guess. They will craft whatever you want to your taste, which is ultra nice. Be prepared to pay for their swanky atmosphere and alcohol knowledge, and there was a notable absence of chips.


Happy hours and deals and specials and fun things:

El Pinto 

Happy hour Monday thru Friday from 4:30 – 6:30. Enjoy $1.00 off all drinks served in the lounge.

Happy Hour Appetizer (barely even know her) menu ranging from $3 – $5.

THEY ALSO HAVE THIS THING CALLED YOGARITAS! For 5 bucks (donation, but don’t be an asshole), you can do a yoga class WHILE DRINKING A MARGARITA. They are on Sundays, weather permitting.


Happy hour M-F,  4-6


T-F 4-6 happy hour.

Oyster happy hour every day 4-6, which I remain skeptical about in NM but follow your hearts.

Students get 4 dollar Zacaritas



But did you die? A series of unfortunate dating events

For whatever reason it just seems the opposite sex is not ready for this jelly. Which as it happens is no jelly at all, because even though I am more of a jam girl at heart, the only sugar-based gelatinous substance we currently have in our fridge is some expired chutney. For more information on the difference between jam/jelly/preserves/chutney I refer you to this page that I penned on the subject (in my dreams).


For all my single peeps out there, please take comfort in the fact that despite whatever unfortunate dating related misfortunes you have endured, you are not only not alone, but more than likely surpassed in mortification by yours truly. This little thing I like to call “acute social anxiety” affords me the unique and entirely unhelpful ability to discern the most inappropriate action to do at a given moment, and then the compulsion to perform that action. It’s great.

For the purpose of your amusement, I have identified some of my fave dating related moments from this past year for the dual purposes of public amusement and what I am pretty certain is called coping.

In case you were wondering, right now I am nursing a pretty significant crush on our UPS guy and my days are structured around timing my presence at home to correspond with package drop-offs. On the plus side, he definitely knows where I live without me providing this information, which is basically all I look for in a romantic partner. Resourcefulness is a level 5 a turn-on.

And so, without further ado I present to you a sequence of cringe inducing dating tales. It’s cool, it’s just my life.



The Real Housewife

Have you ever been late to a date? Have you ever been two hours late? Well, please don’t. Less of that. A guy I have henceforth thought of as The Real Housewife, for reasons that will soon hopefully become clear, was MORE than two hours late for our second date. Which honestly wouldn’t have been such an issue if we hadn’t been supposed to be going to a party that was at lest 45 minutes away. His reason for being late bears mention because it was that he decided to walk so as to avoid paying for the bus or metro. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for walking as a means of transportation, but there are appropriate times for a stroll and a time sensitive date is perhaps not. Especially considering he lived two metro stops away, it somehow took him over an hour to walk this distance.

By the time he arrived at my place, the party was no longer a feasible option. So I did what any future murder victim would do: I invited him inside. Unluckily for us, my laptop had broken the week before so we couldn’t even Netflix and chill. Instead, he brought out the WHITE WINE AND SPRITE he had brought to mix into a singular beverage and we proceeded to awkwardly watch Youtube clips on my phone. The weirdest part was not even that he could only drink white wine (which I hate) when mixed with sprite (which I am ambivalent about at best) but was instead that he kept going to the bathroom for incredibly long periods of time. All I wanted was this human out of my apartment immediately, and all he wanted was to ignore all social cues indicating my preferences and to keep drinking his sprite and wine concoction despite the fact that I was not. While he was in the bathroom all I could keep thinking was what he was DOING in there?! Maybe adjusting his one contact, which he informed me he only wore one of so as to cut his optical expenses in half.

I mean, finally I had to blatantly say “get the fuck out of my apartment” in the most cordial way possible. He seemed genuinely confused, as though he thought it was going well. I wanted so desperately to ask what he was doing in the bathroom all that time, but did not and I regret it to this day. Maybe the housewife connection isn’t so clear after all, but that’s always how I think of him. I never saw him again but he did send me a really nice message when I told him we would never under any circumstances date.


The Great Ca-toe-straphe

I have come to think of my absolute favorite dating experience from this past year affectionately as The Great Ca-toe-straphe. This ultra clever title refers to a freak toe incident slash date night which in retrospect is hilarious, in my opinion anyhow. Picture this: It was a cold and rainy Wednesday evening, as most Autumn evenings tend to be in Stockholm, and I was on my way home to quickly drop off my belongings at my apartment before heading over to meet up with a date-friend-pal-acquaintance-dude with whom I had something I quite frankly don’t know how to label. But let it suffice to say I was on my way to his place, and in a bit of a rush because we both had to be up early in the morning but wanted to hang out.

In the three minutes I was inside, I somehow managed to locate the hopefully single shard of glass hidden within my rug, and lodge it directly into the top of my toe. Being human and all, blood immediately began to spill everywhere. Being irresponsible and all, I had exactly zero bandaids in my home.

Lying on the floor, elevating my leg straight into the air I vividly remember reflecting upon the state of my life as I texted this un-labelable guy to ask him if he owned bandaids. (Which for the record he did, five different kinds to be more precise, one of which was liquid. Also spray antiseptic.) But he definitely thought it was a weird text to receive, since looking back I realized I offered no contextualization for this question.

I crudely wrapped the offending toe in toilet paper, and hobbled over to his place where I immediately went into the bathroom to perform Grey’s Anatomy style renegade toe surgery. As if this wasn’t sexy enough, I remained hyperaware of the blood spill potential post-surgery, and may or may not have asked if I could leave my single sock on during hanky panky. (For the same record as before, I did not.) Furthermore for this lengthy record, I am 90 percent certain that no further toe blood escaped out of it’s bandage jail. I am more than 90 percent certain that whatever semblance of swag I ever may have possessed was lost the moment I asked if I should leave my single sock on.


The Toothbrush


This one is less of an event and more of a self-imposed mind fuck which if you were my friend at the time, your ears are already bleeding from endless analysis of this goddamn toothbrush so please feel free to scroll through this next section.

The toothbrush debacle came arose when the individual mentioned in the ca-toe-straphe spent the night one evening, and I gave him my spare toothbrush to use. I had been planning on switching to this toothbrush soon, but being the generous and dentally hygenic person I am at heart, I gifted it him. This is where the trouble began, but out of it bloomed a beautiful metaphor for our relationship or lack thereof. I do love a good extended metaphor.

Following the next morning I did not hear from him for a week. And before you ask, yes, my pride prevented me from reaching out. SIDENOTE: I am very much in the camp that if someone likes you they will make it happen, and if they don’t they wont. I will in the meantime obsess secretly over why or why not someone likes me, but can never seem to take things into my own hands. If it’s meant to be, it’s easy, etc. Which brings me nicely to the obsessing portion of the story, which TBH is the central plotline of most of my life, dating or otherwise. SO the way I saw it I had a dilemma, and this dilemma was as follows:

  • First, that morning I moved the toothbrush from the counter into the cabinet with mine. But somehow that seemed a bit too intimate.
  • So I relegated the offending toothbrush to it’s own Ziplock, and threw it into a drawer that same evening.
  • However, five days into radio silence I began to question why I was keeping this toothbrush when he wasn’t even calling me. Angrily, I threw the toothbrush into the trash but still inside of the Ziplock so technically it could still be retrieved.
  • Seven days out it began to dawn on me that I could still use this toothbrush! Why should I waste a perfectly good toothbrush when he had only used it once?!
  • But at the same time, what if he DID call, and stayed the night again, and I had to tell him I had begun using that toothbrush. That would be weird. So weird.
  • But this was all operating on the assumption that he would call me back, which it had been 9 days so I was pretty sure that would not be the case.

The metaphorical aspect of this whole thing, which I now see is a stretch at best, was the uncertainty of our status. If I knew he wouldn’t need it then that would be fine, but at least I would know. I obsessed over this for nine days before texting him happy birthday (on his actual birthday) and finding out that he had a dental emergency the entire last week and was definitely not thinking about this toothbrush. I felt relief, embarrassment, and also hoped this emergency was not caused by the toothbrush which I had at this point used.

Call Me Maybe


One of the most perplexing dating scenarios I have experienced recently came in the form of what I thought was a really great date. He was a Health Ledger look alike and I was into it. We stayed out until four, and parted ways with the verbal agreement of a follow up date. I was pretty confident this would happen, but it never did.

I asked him out once, and he said he was otherwise engaged that night. He did call me again, but did so while thinking he was calling his mother. Which he wasn’t, and it was awkward. I wrote it off and went to Texas for Thanksgiving. I should have saved his name in my phone, or deleted it entirely because I ended up getting it mixed up with a vendor for an event I was organizing. My colleague asked for the number for this vendor, and instead I gave her my date’s digits. She texted me saying it was definitely the wrong number, at which point I looked back into my messages, realized what I had done, and then curled up and died inside.


WELP, this concludes the Alone Forever portion of this Sunday. I’ll be here petting my cat if you need me! Just kidding…he lives in Florida like the lush little princess he is.


2017 and counting: a subpar soundtrack to your resolutions

So I guess it’s 2017, and operating off of the assumption that some of us are actively making resolutions to make this a better year than the previous (PLZ SWEET BABY JESUS THAT WOULD BE GR8 THX), I would greatly like to be of assistance.

Not that you asked, or that I am even in a position to offer advice in any capacity. To be clear, I say “some of us” whilst explicitly avoiding the inclusion of myself, because undertaking a resolution would require a semblance of follow-through, and that simply doesn’t sound like me. Also, perhaps I should work on contributing to society in even a single way and not living with my parents before taking on any additional obligations.

Screen Shot 2017-01-09 at 13.22.46.pngDisclaimers about my qualifications and/or lack thereof aside, to assist you on your quests for self-improvement I have created a list of inspirational jams individualized for your specific undertaking! Unless your resolution is to not listen to shitty music, in which case this list is not for you at all.

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Not texting while driving:

Last Kiss by Pearl Jam

Slow clap for safe drivers! Not while driving obviously, keep those hands at 10 and 2 baby. Coincidentally, this tune is also the name and theme song of my future strip club slash stir fry restaurant so don’t even think about stealing because I have watched all of the Good Wife and I will fuck you up with patent litigation. Or I’ll just run for State’s Attorney and cheat on my wife, it could really go either way at this point. Anyway, Pearl Jam’s saddest hit is basically 101 for what happens when you operate a motorized vehicle while swiping right, so…don’t.

Finally cleaning out your goddamn closet:

Trapped in the Closet by R. Kelly

r kelly trapped in the closetSome of us are hindered with parents unsympathetic to our unhealthy tendencies regarding the acquisition of and unwarranted attachment to paper products. I speak from deeply troubling personal experience. I moved home this month and my loving mother welcomed me with open arms, and the immediate request to fucking throw away my math homework from fifth grade already. Joke’s on her, because I kept it as proof that at one point in my life I knew my multiplication tables. Something positive did come out of this experience, however, because to assist me with this task I created a mix I like to call Closet Purge Deluxxx, and which is actually less of a mix and more of R. Kelly’s entire Trapped in the Closet album punctuated with the occasional Eminem.

Eating so fresh and so clean clean:

Broccoli by D.R.A.M


This seems fairly straight forward, but if someone named Lil Yachty produced an entire song about broccoli and the radio is actually playing it, then it seems doable that you can eat a stalk or two. Or stalk a broccoli or two. Or just become a stalker with an affinity for fresh and local produce. Follow your heart!

Learning the art of parallel parking:

I Try by Macy Grey

“Try” being the operative word because parallel parking is an ability that is 1) elusive 2) evidently not genetically transferable. Point in case: my father is the best parallel parker I know, while I as his spawn am forever working on not having a panic attack during any and every attempt. May Macy’s slow jam give you the patience to learn a skill that quite honestly should be required for us to receive driving licenses in the first place.

Fall in love:

No Scrubs by TLC and Breakfast at Tiffany’s by that one band


First of all don’t do it, it’s a trap! Maybe it’s just me, but dating is the worst and Netflix is absolutely a suitable replacement for human contact*. However, for those of you alive with the hope of romance in the new year, I would like for you to keep in mind that you don’t want no scrubs. Also that if all you have in common is kind of liking Breakfast at Tiffany’s, then you should hold tight to that person because most people (with souls) LOVE and do not merely only kind of like that film.

*AKA the title of my MA thesis and forthcoming autobiography


Work Out by J. Cole, anything by Missy Elliot


Travel somewhere, anywhere, even once:

I’m on a Boat by Lonely Island

On a boat or otherwise, I again speak from personal experience when I say traveling companions really love it when you repeat only the line about Pashmina afghans from this song for hours, because that’s all you can remember. You can’t not nail it.

That’s all I got, may 2017 suck a little less for us all and may I learn to spell license and decision without the assistance of spell check. Peace, Love, and Merry Monday to you all.


Greetings my fair Americans and merriest of voting days to you all!


I know people are deeply unsatisfied with the available candidate selections this time around, and it seems to me that this dissatisfaction stems from a collective frustration about things not being what they appear or promote themselves as being. This is a common problem, I mean let’s be real we have all accidentally chugged a jar of semen we found on a street corner thinking it was free buttermilk. We have all been fooled before, in this exact and very specific way. Who could say no to free buttermilk? We aren’t savages.

So before you cast your vote at the closest middle school, I thought I should be the one to tell you two important things. The first is that the numbers on the toaster correspond to the minutes in which the bread will be toasted for and not the degree of toasty-ness. The second is that I have been hearing some things about Mrs. Clinton from a credible source that we should discuss (this crab):


Now we all know her pantsuits are full of secrets, but wait until you hear just to what degree.


Oh you would like that wouldn’t you.

I mean yes Trump has said this


and this


and this.


He might be the just about the biggest asshole in the entire world, not to mention a delusional, creepy, bigoted, racist, sexist, mentally inferior, pompous piece of lying shit.

But what about CROOKED HILLARY?! She has like…deleted emails and strategically altered political stances throughout her 30 years of service, and then deleted some more emails. She might look like a nice enough lady doing the best she can in high pressure, impossibly delicate situations all while nurturing her adoration for balloons and deleting emails but how can we trust anything ever again after the buttermilk?!


Does “Crooked Hillary” sound like someone who we can trust? Someone whose very nickname refers to that time she was praying and driving at the same time with her eyes closed and ran into that Pizza Johns killing five orphans on a field trip and destroying at least as many pizzas. Pizzas are a right, not a privilege!

screen-shot-2016-11-08-at-16-39-08Could we trust someone whose body was crushed in this accident from the waist up, making it necessary for a full torso and face robotic transplant?! She may be able to hide her robot eyes, but there is no camouflaging those robot arms or that cold robot heart. How else could she have ever deleted emails? I would never do such a thing.



I hear that what she doesn’t want you to know is that the whole email debacle resulted from her vigorous and repeated attempts to unsubscribe from Audible. A task not for the faint of heart, let me tell you. They say her robot eyes render her unable to read actual books, so she subscribed to Audible not knowing the ingenuity and perseverance of character required to cancel that herpes of a service. However, upon realization that her subscription put her at risk for exposure not as the first woman president, but instead the first robot one, she knew something must be done. Silly Hillary, deleting all your emails will not unsubscribe you from shit. But really, how do you unsubscribe from Audible?

The emails aside, the crab has told me some other things that Hillary has done which totally make her way worse of a candidate than that guy who said this:



I have compiled them below so that you can have all the super very true facts before committing to a vote. WE HAVE THE BEST FACTS ABOUT THIS NASTY WOMAN, everyone says so. Where do we even start.


Remember Harambe? She is responsible.


Heard Coldplay’s new album? Also responsible.


please god, no make it stop.

Brad and Angelina’s break-up? She seduced Brad away from Angie with her special blend of hot cheetos and meth.


One time she was kicked out of Walmart for stuffing $172 worth of steak and lobster down her pants.


oh wait, this wasn’t her.

But she definitely developed Hepatitis after binging on energy drinks, which was the true cause of her seizure. She has 6 months to live.


In exchange for a lifetime supply of free sausages and paper towels she did Benghazi.


Her most notable contribution to the Illuminati agenda has been to ensure that guacamole is extra, always.



So my dear friends, all this to say, think long and hard before you vote today because clearly it is SUCH a hard decision between these two totally equal in suckiness candidates.









Halloween 2015: Spook me maybe

Hiya party people! It’s now past mid-October, to state the obvious, and that means we are all doing two things: drinking hot beverages and frantically googling clever halloween costumes. Fear not brave souls, for I have applied the vast scientific knowledge I have acquired by studying literature to this very issue and performed what most call a miracle.

I call it Monday.

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Here’s how it works, simply locate your hot beverage of choice this fall on this list, and your perfect costume suggestion awaits! Thank me later, preferably by shipping green chile to Sweden in a mass of hot air balloons. kthanksbye.


Ah, the most non-committal of espresso drinks. Fifty-percent of you desires pure caffeination while the other fifty is a little bitch. That’s cool though, I support your indecision. You know who else has difficulty sticking to one thing? That’s right, Taylor Swift. Whether it be musical genre or sexy time partner that gal is not known for continuity. SO for you, indecisive consumer of halves, might I suggest the embodiment of a T-Swift song this Halloween.8aa07db684ef486e10da090827650db4.

Some options

Blank Space: Wear all black with a blank white piece of paper/posterboard/sticky note, etc.

Shake It Off: Carry a shake weight with the word “it” written on it. Done.

Teardrops on my Guitar: Carry a guitar, with fake tear drops on it.

Decaf coffee

Who do you think you are?! Jared, that is who you are. Get yourself some enormous pants to walk around in, a subway sandwich, glasses, and a posse of underage girls.

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Flat white

Look at you, hip little thang!  Ironically endorsing pop culture tops your C.V. Hobbies include Keeping up with the Kardashians, but only jokingly. It is only appropriate that you embody north west, the direction not the person, this Hallow’s eve. Are Halloween and Hallow’s eve the same thing? Or is Hallow’s eve the day before. Either way–be north west, not North West, ahem.

P.S. this

Screen Shot 2015-10-19 at 11.46.14 AM


What a classic drink! I say this in the least personally biased manner, but drinkers of this beverage clearly have exceptional taste and must excel at all things life related. Except Microsoft Excel because I mean there are limitations to genius, after all. Based on my research, consumers off this particular drink obsessively love podcasts and crosswords (guilty). I proclaim the podcast “Limetown” as the suitable costume for you. For the rest of you, listen to Limetown immediately.

Oprah Latte

Ayayay mamacita! You need a costume as spicy as your fall drink. I don’t even think there is one, so why not dress up precisely as this concoction?

Pumpkin Spiced Latte

First of all, how dare you. Second of all, how dare you.

Kidding, really it’s fine. We are all super judging you, but it’s fine.


Screen Shot 2015-10-19 at 10.37.47 AM

Clearly you don’t enjoy and/or respect all that is coffee and I will super key your car later, but not before suggesting you dress your trendy crossfitted little body up as a sexy iPhone for Halloween. This will aptly showcase your ability to slut-up virtually anything! Coincidentally this happens to be my specialty, so if you need any tips I got your back.



You love breakfast, I am guessing, and your google calendar and sweaters and practicality. All on board with those. I deem breakfast as your 2015 Halloween attire. Do with it what you will, felt seems like a useful tool. You will, however, never surpass the following dog or child in cuteness.

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Single Espresso

Studies show this market to be politically relevant, intellectual devils. Sipping on your tiny drink, the most efficient of coffee drinks. Enjoyment of coffee is for the homeless. You prefer to get your fix ASAP, and proceed to kicking ass all day. Have you heard of Donald Trump? He is this super great guy with super great political suggestions. How about you dress yourself up as one of them this 31st? You would look mighty fine as “the wall”.

Extra points if you somehow work a window in there. OR IF SOMEONE DRESSED UP AS A WINDOW AND YOU DRESSED UP AS A WALL. Okay. Greatest idea ever. Couples costume.

Instant coffee

You are a ghost. And traitor to humanity but that is neither here nor there.



BREAKING NEWS! The canines have been released, who is responsible? Stay tuned.

It has come to our attention that a matter of international security has arisen. It has been reported that the dogs have, once again, been let out.

First and foremost, it is of utmost importance that you do not panic. The proper authorities have been alerted and are doing their best to maintain the situation. Please do your best to keep your families and loved ones safe in this dire moment in history by keeping them away from areas of potential dog interest. Shoe stores and post offices have henceforth been temporarily closed for employee safety.

If you have any information regarding the dogs’ whereabouts or who might have let them out please call 1-800-SEE-DOGS


International Political Expert Donald Trump released the following statement,

The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese in order to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive.”

It wasn’t about this, but it remains applicable.

Investigation of this event will be supplemented with video evidence of this terrible occurrence.

The escape occurred early this morning, as the guard of Manoe Hills Doggie Day Care was inattentively watching television. He was informed of the escape moments before it happened, by the very program he was watching.

Speculation of inside assistance follows the evidence, which shows the doors opening seemingly by themselves. The first escapees out of the door are far too small to have turned any sort of handle, indicating the help of a mechanization device, a ghost, or most likely, inside help of humans.

The (Baha) men, leading experts in dog forensics, have been called in to solve the case.


They began by identifying the very necessary, though obvious, question concerning the crime—

Who let the dogs out?





The female dog-catcher vehicle contingent has been dispatched with binoculars in tow, cleverly camouflaged in animal print hats and sunglasses.


The dogs are very much on the run, with one canine reportedly knocking over an unattended fruit stand. Let the evidence show that the pup known as “Alfredo” must serve additional time for emotional distress for the owner of this fruit stand.

The terrier, “T-Bone” is additionally charged with sexually harassing a woman, causing her to clutch a pole in fear.

But never fear, the Baha squad is here!They are on the case and continue to confer, in a language spoken by no other than themselves. In an interview, member “Breaka” Butler released the following statement;

Say, A doggy is nuttin’ if he don’t have a bone
All doggy hold ya’ bone, all doggy hold it
A doggy is nuttin’ if he don’t have a bone
All doggy hold ya’ bone, all doggy hold it”

Reports indicate the dogs are running through fields and wreaking havoc on beach communities around the globe. Or just Miami, it’s hard to tell.

We have just been informed mail man Rick O’Leary is the first victim of the dogs. They cornered him by a building and viciously attacked him. He is in critical condition. Needless to say, mail may be late in many households today.

Who let the dogs out?! Who? Who? Who?


Rik Carey blue-shirt Baha has officially entered the manhunt, through his blue house, with a blue window, and blue corvette. When questioned about the incident he responded,

“Blue is the colour of all that I wear.
Blue are the streets and all the trees are too.
I have a girlfriend and she is so blue.
Blue are the people here tat walk around,
Blue like my corvette, it’s in and outside.
Blue are the words I say and what I think.
Blue are the feelings that live inside me.”

The sexual harassing terrier, T-Bone has found Anthony “Monks” Flowers Leroy  red-shirt Baha in the junkyard!

It seems the tides have turned against the Baha crew! A chase is currently occurring of the men through the field, and the female backup is close behind.

Agents are changing strategy, employing the age-old dance party sting operation. The criminals will not be able to resist such a get together: there is enthusiastic line dancing and colorful shirts. Fact. The female agents are on the prowl for any canine guests, throwing down the gauntlet with a dance off.



Take that dogs!


Dancing is still actively occurring.


The dogs have been safely deposited back into their rightful location, the security guard has not moved.

Astrological August: Your month in peculiar specificity



Oprah once said, “If you feel secure in your relationships, it is probably because they are talking shit behind your back on the regular”. Think about this, Aries, because it directly applies to you. This month is the perfect opportunity to change everything about your entire personality, everyone you know and love has been waiting for long enough.


Taurus, your sun sign is in retrograde from the 15th to the 25th of August and you will be playing with fire. Literally. Seriously be careful when lighting a cigarette or performing pagan fire rituals, or you will singlehandedly cause a forest fire.


Reese Witherspoon recently starred in the movie Wild, which is based off a memoir of a woman who embarked on a wild adventure to hike the Pacific Crest Trail in the most unprepared way possible. Think of her, dear Gemini, ripping her toenail off in one of the most repulsive cinematic scenes ever as you inject yourself with heroin and cheat on your significant other before taking off on a potentially life threatening hike.


Invest in some quality binoculars, Cancer because birds are migrating in front of the spot where Venus rises. Your neighbors are up to something and it is your responsibility–nay, your civic DUTY to figure out what it is. Word on the street is they are communists poisoning the water with their red lies, infecting American freedom! You must be on 24/7 surveillance mode, it is up to YOU.


Did somebody say suicide pact?**


Things come to people who wait for them, sometimes. I know you have wanted those J Crew pants for so long Virgo, and now is your time. They are on sale! Only in size extra small, so you are going to have to stop eating a week ago. Kale and adderall diet begins… now.


The moon is orbiting the Earth, Libra, and we all love it. Similarly, if you are interested in someone it is best to be in perpetual proximity to them, preferably orbiting their body in a circular fashion. They might not love you now, but give it a few billion years and there will be a race to get to you first! Monkeys will win.


Scorpio, I hate to break it to you but there is a scorpion colony under your bed as we speak. That’s what you get for being born in November, but luckily for you they will not attack fellow brethren. Befriend the scaly creatures, create a venomous army to use against your enemies! No one will fuck with you ever again, ask the Rock. Scorpion armies are the new black


Ah Saggi, you sassy thing you. Be careful where that mouth lands you this month. Stars are in the sky in barely perceptible shapes and you know what that means (I’m talking to you Jeff from Flipping Out). That Big Dipper is cause for Big Trouble, so shut your trap unless you want a repeat of that scene from True Detective when Vince Vaughn unconvincingly beats up that enormous gangster and pulls out all his teeth (spoiler).


Greetings little goats, by far the most superior of the signs your wisdom abounds as per usual this month. You need to make an extra cash right now, I know, so put that intuition to proper use by posing as an authority on the supernatural. Psychic gigs are aplenty this month, because Mercury is turning blue on the dark side of Saturn’s rings. Or just write your own horoscopes, people love that shit.


Sexual experimentation is in the air, Aquarius. Inanimate objects are where it’s at, and you are seeing that vase in a whole new way now aren’t you? This is a no judgement month for the water signs because it is summer, and hot as balls. As Gandhi preaches, “YOLO bitches, screw whatever you want.”


There was never a better time to join a cult, than right here right now. You seek community this month, Pisces, and Scientology just makes so much sense.

**Just kidding times infinity

The art of attraction, courtesy of your top source for unsolicited advice

How to reel in the dates, but more likely none at all

We’ve just about reached the halfway mark of July and summer fever is in full effect. Everyone has been watching the Bachelorette, and lives in terror of marriage-driven dating. I mean, I am still actively pinning to my secret wedding board on Pinterest but I speak for the rest of you.

If seeking some casual strange, but are not well-versed in the intricacies of courting then this guide is for YOU. Dating is a delicate balance between fundamentally deceiving prospects about virtually all your personal attributes, and not giving a shit. And who better qualified than yours truly in dispensing advice on this very important topic? The obvious choice, according to my cat.

SO. Getting prepped to go out.

First things first hide yo zits, hide the rest of your face. No one wants to see that, purchase some stage makeup and go to town. You certainly don’t want to be recognized by anyone after this night. Be creative young grasshoppers, go forth and youtube makeup tutorials! #contouringopportunity


Trends are your friend

Wear something you are comfortable in. If that happens to be a t-shirt reading “Jesus it’s just that easy” then go with that. It’s made out of great material if people could just stop with the judging!!!

For men, I recommend investing in some pheromone cologne. It exists, and I have tasted it. In my defense I thought it was flavored lube, which is surprisingly delicious. Especially the salted caramel kind!

For women, might I suggest keeping a burrito in your pocket. A subtle waft of breakfast food does wonders for enticing the male population. Or female..the human population really. Everyone loves burritos. If nothing else, you can rest safe with the knowledge that you will definitely not being going home alone.

For both, don’t shower for a week or so in preparation for this event so your natural smell is prominently featured.

Once ready and out, it’s time to attract some potential mates. Get yourself to a bar, ABQ residents might I suggest the Distillery? I have been there once, and when I wasn’t crying in the bathroom for no reason I was noticing the mating rituals occurring over really cheap shots. Oh, the beauty of youthful romance.

Never buy your own drink, don’t even bring money with you! Simply ask every semi-attractive person to borrow money, conveniently necessitating a future meet- up for you to return the favor. Or you get a free drink, really a win-win.

Eye contact is critical when attracting a mate. If they aren’t looking at you, continue to stare at them until they do. Don’t want to miss an opportunity, they might only look once. Try not to blink once in conversation with someone, it disrupts the eye contact.

Once you snag a partner begin to talk about your interests, for instance if you have been reading murder mysteries feel free to talk about the best ways to murder someone. There are so. many. ways. Don’t even get me started, I blame Serial. When in doubt or awkward silence simply revert to universally appreciated and topical subjects, like Scientology or rodeos.

floating tone arms

PRO TIP: Always always always always pretend to like Game of Thrones. Even if you hate it, it’s a deal breaker for seventy-five percent of the population.

Conversing with new people is unavoidably awkward, icebreakers assist with the communication process. My favorite? Ask them their street address. Or ask their first and last name, find them on Facebook while still in proximity, and use the “ask address” button.

My friend Anna informed me about this twitter and it is the GREATEST. It has been so helpful for me personally. The important questions must be asked

Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 4.02.19 PM Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 4.01.29 PM Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 4.00.49 PM Screen Shot 2015-07-16 at 4.00.19 PM

And most importantly, scale 1-10, 1 being great, 10 being the FUCKING GREATEST EVER how majestic is the experience of breading your cat?


There is a right answer.

Finally, Facebook is a highly useful tool for investigation of relationship status of a prospective suitor. If not listed, click the helpful “ask relationship status” button. When in doubt, always ask. The girl he is with in his profile pic could be his sister, they could be a very close family.

Thanks FB! You the real MVP. (Eye heart acronyms)

If for some reason these highly useful tips fail to work, there is probably something wrong with you. That aside, you will likely be alone forever. I have found food helps numb that pain, and preferably a lot of it. Quantity > quality.

Drinking up with the Kardashians

I know what you are thinking, I had you at drinking


I am unsure as to know how exactly how it happened–okay yes I am sure and I fully blame Jen, Mel, and a wholeeeee lotta white wine—but I have developed an obsession with the Kardashian family.

A legitimate obsession, an obsession in the sense that a diagnosis and prescription is just about necessary. This obsession has unfortunately become a defining feature of my personality, along with my verbal brevity and stoic emotional demeanor. You know you have a problem when your phone looks like this


only to immediately be followed by this


(Okay, sorry I don’t know how to blur names because…technology. So all twelve people who read this will now be aware that you three are infected with Kardashian-itis as well)

I am fascinated with the show for two reasons:

  1. They represent my ultimate life goals: to become disgustingly rich from a sex tape and then have a reality show follow me around as I do stupid shit and name all my eighteen children variations of the same name.

  2. Because I love fun.

I have never felt so conflictingly jealous of someone else’s life and at the same time thankful to not be them on so many levels.

Pretty much all the levels

There is seriously one episode where Kim and Kendall are in the room casually eating decadent snacks off a tea tray, as Khloe is getting stretch marks



One thing must be established right here, right now, real quick. There is one critical factor to enjoyment of this show: it begins with “al” and ends in “cohol”

On that note I present to you “Drinking Up with the Kardashians” ALMOST my finest game invention to date, coming in second only to the dating game “Cute or Homeless”

Alrighty then, without further ado

Drink once when:

Unacknowledged changes in lip size occur

Hairstyles inexplicably change within the episode

Kourtney is doing anything pregnancy related

Kanye is so awkward it is physically painful to witness

A huge jar of candy and/or cookies is on screen

Drink an entire glass of wine when:

Any member of the family whines about something that no one else would ever whine about.

(see what I did there)

Take a shot when:

Bruce is emotionally abused in any way, left out, tortured by Kris, made fun of, etc.

A fight over literally nothing happens

An apology follows a fight that occurs over nothing

They are in a huge black vehicle

Khloe curses in any capacity

Take two shots when:

They are on the phone while driving a huge black vehicle

Kylie or Kendall are doing something inappropriate for their age

Kris does something even more inappropriate for her age

Khloe makes a weight comment about herself

Assign a drink of any quantity to someone else:

Kim is the rational member of the family

Scott is involved in some vague business scheme

Rob’s bizarre absence and/or bizarre existence is mentioned

Scott provides a snarky quip


For the entirety of any private jet plane scene

Drink twelve drinks when:

North or Kanye makes an appearance

Any member of the family has a face lift

A house is nonchalantly purchased

Drink forever:

When a house is casually purchased by a member of the family under 21, using money made from people like us who support these people’s careers because WHAT. I would like a house, but my lips are normal size.

#myfitnessjourney, that was a weird day

After being perpetually bombarded with Instagrammed photos of people’s muscles and acronyms for tracking food intake, I found myself with an acute case of envy. I want to be able to do a push up! I want to drink a superfood smoothie and like it! I want to unironically post inspirational quotes, and endless photos of my abs! I want to know what exactly a burpee is, because it sounds disgusting but I suspect it involves wine!


So I purchased some chocolate protein powder, because I love chocolate. People say that it tastes better than chocolate, and they can’t even tell the difference between the two and those people are liars. I wanted chocolate for breakfast, but I don’t know how to make pancakes or waffles so instead I added it to my coffee. Whoa bad idea, it was clumpy and disgusting and I had to throw it out. I then added it to water and it tasted not at all like chocolate, but more like chocolate’s second cousin who is no longer invited to family reunions after peeing in the bushes at Aunt Clara’s garden party. Gross.

I ate seven donuts for breakfast instead #IIFYM


Fitness is easy!

“Smashing leg day” is a thing I have heard quite a bit, and I thought it would make a good starting point—smashing things is a favorite past time of mine. I mean, I am super terrible at Super Smash Brothers but I love placing the characters close to one another and letting go of the controllers so they awkwardly hump one another. That counts right? Mostly I was searching for the proper occasion to create a smashing-themed playlist (read in Austin Power’s voice naturally) featuring Smash Mouth and the Smashing Pumpkins.


Yeah, baby!

I began by following approximately fifty fitness gurus on Instagram, all of whom appear to be about twelve years of age with intense six packs, a penchant for mirror pics sporting little-to-no clothing, and an overuse of exclamation points. I personally hate exclamation points, because I dislike joy or excitement expressed in any form.

An hour and a half later, I had a few exercises to try so I headed to the gym. I warmed up with a set of mirror photos flexing my virtually nonexistent guns in the mirror until someone walked in and I started looking at my phone and laughing maniacally as though I had received the most hilarious message on earth. In case you were wondering, it was pretty obvious what I had been doing so all this achieved was making me look like a complete psycho.

So I am the sweatiest person ever to exist so I am not sure why I chose to wear a grey cotton t-shirt to the gym but I did. You are welcome everyone.

The person on the treadmill next to me tripped and fell off backwards SO HARD, and all I could focus on was not laughing. Before I look like the biggest asshole, which I may or may not be, let it be stated they were clearly okay. They immediately got up, but the hardest part of my workout was not laughing in their face. Maybe that means I did not successfully smash my workout or whatever.

Afterwards, while browsing fitness quotes it became evident I not only failed to smash but did not even begin to..poke it. What is the workout spectrum anyway? Poke to Tap to Slap to Punch to Crush to Smash to Explode?


The motivational quotes I found were seriously fucking terrifying, and more than a little sadistic.

I mean I got this one down already


Cool, this is easy. This next one was encouraging as well, I have six months and some spare cash for plastic surgery! I can make myself look exactly like this person, find out where she lives, and show up at her house.


And I mean, I can run once and be sexy as fuck. Sounds like a sweet deal, fitness is the best!


Then this popped up:


OKAY this escalated quickly. If I am in pain, crying, bleeding, or crawling I think I am going to quit working out. If I ever saw someone doing any of the above I would be seriously freaked out.


I super don’t want to puke while working out! Why must we puke? This all sounds terrible! I’m not sure this whole fitness thing is for me.


I hate suffering! This person is crazy!


This seems less than realistic, and kind of inappropriate. Family dinner would get a little awkward. I even live alone and this seems like an idiotic thing to do. So I should just casually eat soup in my bathroom naked?

Okay yeah, I was in for that.

Lunch was donuts, naked in my bathroom.

So was dinner.

I watched fifteen episodes of The Biggest Loser and did burpees** during the commercials.

“”Drank wine

The next day I could, in fact, walk but it was rather painful and I took great pleasure in informing those around me that yesterday had been leg day.