Thursday, April 25, 2013


Because I have funny readers, I was asked to stitch 'You are the opposite of anorexic.' for a customer. At first, I was like, hmmmmm.... what does this mean? Is this some weird pro-ana thing? Because if there is anything I hate it is Thinspiration and Pro-ana. But no! It was instead an inside family joke. As my customer explained, I got the quote from my mom. She always says really offensive things and doesn't realize it and once told my sister that she was 'the opposite of anorexic.' We love saying that to each other now.

I would like to think of myself as the 'opposite of anorexic.' Even though I am trying to eat more healthily and not drink so much delicious delicious diet choke.

Sometimes I go to Pinterest and look for good recipes. Except that the longer that I am on Pinterest, the more it freaks me out. It seems like half of Pinterest is a recipe for brownies and the other half is a recipe for extreme thinness. And the images of women? Who we are supposed to try to look like after doing a certain amount of crunches and a certain amount of push-ups? Those women are impossibly configured, and impossible for most of us to emulate. I have noticed that a lot of these harsh exercise and diet regimes pins are pinned to boards labeled 'Thinspiration.' That is a pro-anorexia tag word, people! Do NOT use it. Thankfully, when I did a search for 'thinspiration' on Pinterest, I saw this:

The header reads, 

Eating disorders are not lifestyle choices, they are mental disorders that if left untreated can cause serious health problems or could even be life-threatening.
For treatment referrals, information, and support, you can always contact the National Eating Disorders Association Helpline at 1-800-931-2237

THANK YOU, PINTEREST, for being awesome. 

To make even Pinterest cooler, I searched for 'fatspiration' and found lots of cool quotes and pictures of beautiful women.

I liked this fatspiration the most.

Pwahaha! Thigh rub! Man, I hate thigh rub! And it's a normal body function. Like sweating. And swearing. 

Thank goodness for skorts!

Oh, and before I let you go, I want to show you this amazing article by this amazing, curvaceous woman, Haley Morris-Cafiero, who takes pictures of herself while people in the background stare at her.  I loved it.

You are all the opposite of lame! Have a great day!

Monday, April 22, 2013

Doomed Birthdays and a Giveaway Winner Announced

The Winner of the Go Fork Yourself Giveaway is Barbara! 

Her birthday was commemorated by the Boston marathon bombing and her daughter's birthday is September the 11th. I have always worried about those poor kids who have birthdays on that day. 
Here is her winningly sad story. 

No. "I" need this! My sister and I say this to ourselves all the time because we come from a family of complete cRaZies! Today is my birthday...4/15....turned out to be pretty know, the Boston marathon tragedy that I heard about on the radio as I was driving 50 miles to the grocery store. (yes..I live 50 miles from a forking grocery store!!)

I have a daughter born on 9/11. As my daughter remarked today..WTF! Are all the birthdays in our family to be marked with terribleness? Oh..and I was also diagnosed with celiac disease two weeks ago, and it seems my 4 offspring likely suffer from it also. Our food supply in this country is poisoning us all!! HOW IRONIC! Me, a champion bread baker from way back, and my husband's favorite food is 'dough.' Well, he is just going to have to be 'doughless' because I'm not cooking twice..once for him and once for me! So...Fork Me!!

Everybody should also check out her lovely website Stitchpography. She is an incredibly talented stitcher! I love her!

Please send me an email, Barbara! (thecottonfloozy[at]gmail[dot]com)

Friday, April 19, 2013

hysterical and useless

hysterical and useless

I am feeling incurably wordless today. And so I will show you this lovely little embroidery I made for myself.

It comes from Radiohead's song, "Let Down." (My favorite song of all time.)

I look at those three words -- hysterical and useless -- and smile. It makes me stop feeling sorry for myself whenever I am having a dumb day. Those three words cork my tears. Because I think it is so damned funny. As women we have been reduced to those three words over and over and over again. And it is so laughably untrue. Just because we are emotional beings, doesn't mean that we aren't strong.  I think of another few lines of the song, 'One day I am going to grow wings. A chemical reaction.'

Monday, April 15, 2013


My son overslept because he thought it was Sunday. Poor child, I was the one who had to break it to him that it was indeed Monday and that he had approximately none minutes to get ready in time to make it to the bus. 

My daughter sat on my lap while I clipped her blinged-out-hooker barrette on the side of her head. She sighed, 'Why are Mondays stupid.' And I answered, 'Because Garfield said so.' And she nodded her head, like sure, that makes sense.

And now I am watching my dogs out the window, eating their poop. Let me clarify. I am not the one eating the poop. Yesterday I paid none dollars for a kindle book: 'STOP YOUR DOG FROM EATING POO!' A title that deserves all-caps and an exclamation point, if ever there was one. I think I will be reading this book today, because that should make my Monday awesome.

And if you want to tell me about your general hatred for pretty much anything, comment here in this post. Grumble away. Tell me your sad sad first world story problem. I'm listening.

go f**k yourself
Whoever tells the funniest or heartbreaking-est or dumbest story in the comments section will win this 'go f**k yourself' sampler.

Really, you can write anything. I am easily amused.

This giveaway will last a week, until next Monday. Just make sure that if you enter, you check back, or better yet, message me your email address so that I can let you know you won so I can mail it out to you.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Meet me in Montauk

Because it is Wordless Wednesday or Whatever Wednesday, this is going to be a reeeallly short post. But I just wanted to remind everyone that I am no longer selling things in my Etsy store. I am actually still stitching super bunches, but only custom orders. For example, I have made a few things for an excellent customer, including a Bathroom Birdie ('your poop smells nice'), the 'Calm your tits. -- Buddha,' and this lovely quote from Eternal Sunshine:

Meet me in Montauk.
What would you like me to make for you? Shoot me an email at thecottonfloozy[at]gmail[dot]com. 

Have a great Wordy or Wordless or Wormless Whatever Wednesday!

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Fantasy Fun for the Whole Family

Mr. Floozy and I are currently in Las Vegas with all of the little Floozies. Normally, our default family vacation is Disneyland, but this year we decided for something different.  Both are fun vacation options. One has a bombardment of unrealistic sexy female depictions and the other one has the Bellagio Fountains. 

Like the nerds we are, the first attraction we went to was The National Atomic Testing Museum: or How I Learned to Love the Bomb. We also saw family-friendly comedic magician Mac King. His show was a mixture of old-timey cornball humor and neato magic tricks. We all loved him. (Travel tip: don't pay the $40 per person for seats. Go to the concierge at Harrah's and ask if they have any 'free tickets with a purchase of beverage' tickets tickets. They did for all five of us and dudes, we totally scored.) 

A lot of the time we just walked around and admired the spectacle that is Las Vegas. I enjoyed that during the day, but at night it gets too crowded and makes me stabby. Also, I have a tendency to make automatic revolving doors suddenly stop, confusing everyone behind me. Sorry, folks! Just another one of the perks of my wizard powers to kill all things electronic! You know what? I should really learn how to gamble. I wonder what my witchy powers would do to slot machines. Huh.

Our favorite activity of the trip was visiting the Bodies: The Exhibition.  It was amazeBALLS. And I mean that literally. Most of the plasticized bodies were men, without clothes.... or skin. The exhibit had hundreds of body parts preserved in various fashions. Fetuses, blackened smokers's lungs, exposed muscled thighs, hearts, bones, and viscera. It was sobering to see all of the intricacies and capabilities of the human body. And of course, it was a little bit creepy. I was creeped out by the toenails of the donors. My girls were creeped out by the alienesque baby skulls. And my husband and son were creeped out the most by the one long bodiless peel of a person's skin. I was so proud when my son turned around and whispered, 'It rubs the lotion on its skin.'