You can’t buy this in stores.

My four readers (hey mom! Hey sis! Hey family of cats!) will be pleased to know that I don’t plan to ever turn this site into a crazy profit machine. I won’t accept any modeling offers from Victoria’s Secret, I won’t agree to write for the New Yorker’s next food issue, I won’t accept a multi-trillion dollar endorsement deal from Vibram FiveFingers, and, most importantly, I won’t try to sell you T-Shirts. There are plenty of people doing that already…although I do know a very good puff-painter for hire.


It's an art. (apologies to the mothers of these girls, whose photo was unceremoniously poached from the interwebs).

But I will tell you about something I am so ridiculously excited about owning that I paid through the you-know-what to have it before Christmas. Upon delivery I will wrap it, place five million bows and ribbons all over it such that it looks like something Lady Gaga would wear to the Birth of Christ, and then spend a sleepless night in anticipation of opening this most wonderful gift of gifts.

No, it’s not a delightful costume.

He looks like a deranged Easter bunny.

No, it’s not a Major Award.



It’s the most wonderful gift one could give to oneself, which I made via Uberprints to soothe the recent flare-up of my WOD shirt addiction. First, the front:

And now, the reveal. I’m not the first to say this phrase, but I believe it runs strong yet quiet through the souls of every real-food and fat lover in the universe. We all know it, yea, we live for it; though we may not discuss it openly, we all understand the self-evident truth of it.

The angels sing.


3 Comments to “You can’t buy this in stores.”

  1. My laff for the day! Where can I purchase this must-have “shell” (as the fashion industry designates such wearables)? I’ve forwarded your message to all my aficionados in need of a shell of a chuckle.
    I’m anticipating your in-person presence soon.

  2. You’re silly and I love you.

  3. Bacon makes everything better!!! Especially Dark Chocolate;)

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