flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
If you’re new around here or (heavens!) don’t read mah thingy everyday, you may be excused for missing the saga of Melanie and Steve. It all began when I glanced through Twitter to see if people were really that hilarious and maybe I should finally give in and join. What I found was a tweet from The Bloggess requesting that people draw her a picture of a girl making out with a unicorn. Naturally, I joined Twitter just so I could rise (sink?) to the challenge, and much hilarity ensued. There were a ton of awesome drawings, which you can see here
Aaaaanyway, I was at a friend’s going away party the other night and found myself wondering what ever happened to poor, deluded Melanie and Steve the Douchebag Unicorn, and because I am a terrible person and only cause my imaginary characters pain, it was this:
Still don’t know why she looks like (a skinny version of) me, nor why she has my super-elderly red flip phone. Narcissism? Self-loathing? Too lazy to draw anyone else?
I promise I have not slept with any mythical creatures, and I’m not really a ‘I can fix him with my love!’ kind of girl. Also, my home does not boast any tables that tiny or unstable, as my real life partner is a somewhat fat and clumsy cat.Well, really my foot’s life partner. Charlie and my toes are in a committed, occasionally abusive relationship. (When he tries to nom them/when I step on his paw because he put it UNDER MY FOOT, moron!)