Possible reasons why I haven’t written in 2 years are listed below. One of these excuses is true. See if you can guess which one. The winner gets a dirty Kleenex and a feral goat.

1)     I’ve been getting more ass than a toilet seat in Tokyo. I’ve been busy with my new young buck of a boyfriend, swinging from chandeliers with a gag ball in my mouth and 4th of July sparklers coming from my nose (to distract him from the wrinkles). Writing has become a distant second priority. Note: Because I haven’t been able to get much air through my proboscis since the botched rhinoplasty of 2005, I am forced to use the training version of the gag ball (virgins, that’s the one with breathing holes in it). My whistling sinuses are sexy, but not something I like to trot out until I have a diamond ring. 

2)     I’m a one trick pony and lately I’ve been singularly focused on my goal of going from “morbidly obese” to just “obese.” It takes all my energy not to mouth-vacuum the inside of a jar of Nutella every night when I come home from work. So, I swig mini Nyquil/Courvoisier cocktails for dinner and go to sleep at 7 PM to reduce daily calorie intake. I could probably fit in a few minutes to write while the darkness is closing in, but blogging while intoxicated is like drunk-dialing an ex-boyfriend. Never a good idea. I’m pretty free with what I share, but do you really need to hear the story about the time my gynecologist trapped my cervix in the speculum like a wild beaver in the Yukon?  I believe No.  

 Wild beaver in the Yukon. I just made myself snort.

3)     The Salt Mines of Corporate America have been particularly gruesome lately. If The Man tells me to ride backwards on a donkey to Guadalajara wearing a feather headdress, a poached egg brassiere, and a thong made out of caterpillars to make revenue, then that’s what I do. Figuratively, that’s what they’ve been requiring lately, so no time for The Pen.

There are elements of Truth to all of these choices. I do own a gag ball, but it was a gift and has never been put to any use in the boudoir. Not because I’m too skittish to give it a whirl but because I have TMJ. Lockjaw is not part of the foreplay show I put on for bedroom guests. I do shoot Nyquil pretty regularly to sleep, and unfortunately for my lady parts, the cervix story is also true.  However, the real answer to why I have been absent for so long is that the Salt Mines have been grisly these days. Grisly like a horror movie, not gristly like bad beef. I took a new role that is like drinking tabasco sauce from a fire hose and regularly gives me night terrors. Writing is a luxury I simply haven’t been able to afford lately.

But, as referenced in the title, nobody has got the time and everybody’s got excuses, and I had to remind myself that I ain’t that kind of chick. Perhaps there’s a dream you’ve been putting off too? Come with me. It’s time to quit our whining and cross the Rubicon, leap back into the breach, burn the midnight oil, cut the mustard. Get the fucking lead out.

So… Buckle up, Buttercups. Just like Lazarus, Pumpkin is rising from the dead. See you in the blogosphere…

Love, Pumpkin

 P.S. The Man has never actually asked me to wear a caterpillar thong to make the $$$ month. Yet.

P.P.S. I do not drink Courvoisier. I’m not a fucking rapper.


Fuck off, I was abducted by Aliens.

by Pumpkin S. Parker on November 19, 2012

Possible reasons why I haven’t written in 6 months:

  • I was mauled by a pack of wild canines in Central Park and have been recovering in a charity hospital run by The Sisters of Mercy in Yonkers.
  • Channing Tatum saw me in a coffee shop in The Village, instantly fell madly in love with me, divorced his greyhound-looking wife, and we’ve been making love in a private villa in Bora Bora three times daily for months.  I was too bow-legged to type.
  • Ok, that was a lie.  It was Ryan Gosling.
  • I accidentally super-glued my nipple tassels on, then got one caught in a piece of machinery while I was manufacturing widgets.  That shit hurt.
  • I was marooned on a desert island (Wiiiiilllllllssssssooooonnnnn!) and had to use my laptop as a raft and a palm frond as an oar to paddle to civilization.  The trip took a few months and the Compaq HP just recently recovered from the damage brought on by that wicked Pacific Ocean.
  • The dog ate my homework.

Actually, my hands got full with Regular Life.  A few major changes- big move, new apartment, new job, dating and then not dating… But, I’m back in The Groove!  Much to the joy of my (three) supporters!  So, I figured I’d start with shit I am grateful for.  So very Thanksgiving-esque…

1)      I have a roof over my head and a full belly.  Every day.  Sometimes too full, but I got a thing for cans of fried onions.  Whole cans.

2)      Black out curtains in my bedroom.  My mother refers to me as “The Mushroom” because I like darkness more than light.  Sweet, sweet night.  24/7.  Damn, I love those curtains.

3)      TV documentaries.  If it weren’t for National Geographic, The History Channel, Nova, and Investigation Discovery, I would be lost.  Lost and much dumber than I am now.   I know some shit, people.   The glue on Israeli postage stamps is certified kosher.  Take that.

4)      I have a pretty optimistic outlook on life, which I did not inherit, but, rather, built.  Insert jazz hands here.

5)      I’ve got a rescue cat that is such good company.  She listens to me pontificate on whether or not I should be a Libertarian, watches me dance like MC Hammer in the kitchen (sometimes it just IS Too Legit to Quit), and walk around looking completely unacceptable for public viewing… and she never judges.  Well, perhaps she does, but she doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Siamese, so we’re just co-habitating in blissful ignorance.

6)      I have enough pain and distress in my life to keep me grateful and sweet (and give me funny stories), but not enough to kill my spirit.  Please remind me to tell you the story about the time I completely shat myself in a Best Buy parking lot.  Not so savory at the time, but a hilarious story.  Hilarious.

7)      I live alone.  And I love it.  A lotta of people spend time feeling sorry for me because they think I’m lonely.   Save your pity (and please do stick it straight up your arse sideways).  I love my own company.  And I never have to shave my legs, no one can divorce me, I can pluck chin hair or clip my toenails anywhere and anytime I want, I can decorate without consideration of leather recliners, neon signage, or any sports prints or paraphernalia, and ESPN has never graced the screen of my television.

8)      Cat pheromones and tin foil.  I wish this had a sexier explanation for this one, but it is currently keeping the cat from using my leather ottoman as a loo.

9)      My on-the-spot phone charger.  I perpetually forget to charge my phone and, thus, it is always on 10% battery life.  Perpetually.  This little jobby saves my bacon.  Almost every day.  I loves it.

10)   Words.  I have loved words since God was a Boy. Words are so awesome.  Platitude.  Frisson.  Courtesan.  Snollygoster.  Merkin.  Zaftig.  Scintillate. Hooligan. Doppelganger.  Chicanery.  Juggernaut.  Shenanigans.  Mobius.  Succubus.  Grimalkin.  Zephyr.  P.S.  Eskimos have 100 words for snow.  This is so awesome, I feel faint.  Words give me the vapors.

11)   My friends.  I have such awesome, generous, cheerful, interesting, smart friends.  They are truly amazing.  Even though I hate talking on the phone, and I’m a complete shit-show most days.

12)   My family.  They are crazy enough to make me crazy, but they are loving and loveable.  And, even though I consider the possibility from time to time, I would never trade them in for a different set.

13)   My country.  I love that a those Yosemite Sam-esque Texans can apply for secession without bringing on a government police state, that people can object to other’s politics and still be friends, that we are a nation together and essentially free to pursue happiness as we see fit.  Sometimes I pursue it with Twinkies and Xanax and that is A-ok.

14)   Martin Sheen.  I fucking love that guy.

15)   Humor. Can’t get through life without finding it funny… even if you sometimes have to plumb for it.  For instance, there is a cheese called “Stinking Bishop.”  I don’t even have to plumb for the funny on that one.  And the pope’s hat.  Makes me laugh every time I see it.

16)   Cold weather.  No Floridian will ever know the joy of the first day when it’s warm enough to not wear a jacket after months and months of gray days and bone-chilling wind.  The gratitude and joy that is felt on that first day… or on a gorgeous late Fall day when you get one last sun-filled 55-degree day. .. is palpable.  JOY!!!

17)   Salt.  I need say no more… but I will.  I have a salt lick in my backyard, but it’s for me, not the deer.

18)   Channing Tatum.   Lord, have mercy, that man makes me sweat.  I tried to vote for him for President because I am sure he was our only chance for solving the national debt.  Put that guy, shirtless in leather chaps, on the White House lawn, dancing to “Pony” and women will come from far and wide to throw dollar bills at his ever-so-finely-chiseled abs.  A simple, expedient way for debt resolution.  And basically our only chance with our current government.

19)   Lipstick.  I look like an unbelievable hag without it… uh, sorry, coworkers.  If I were on a desert island, one of my three choice possessions would be lipstick.  The other two would be Advil and cake.

20)   Chuck Norris jokes.  If you type in “find Chuck Norris” on Google, it responds “Google won’t search for Chuck Norris because it knows you don’t find Chuck Norris, he finds you.”  Chuck Norris can catch the gingerbread man.  Guns take shooting lessons from Chuck Norris.  Hearts have Chuck Norris attacks.  Amuses me.  So amuses me.

21)   Random things I’m grateful for:  commas, red shoes, pot roast, the Tv show “Hoarders,” the word “fuckwit,” dog booties, bacon, the phrases “Crazy with a Capital F” and “Bluffin with my Muffin,” referring to  men’s underwear as ”grape smugglers,” any and all doughnuts.

My love to you and have a happy, coma-inducing Thanksgiving!  I will be with my divorced parents and my mother’s husband, teaching Pad and iPhone 5 classes.  These fools have to have the latest gadgets and barely know how to text.  Oy.

Class dismissed.



Why I Date Like a Cicada or… Why I’d Like to Set Walt Disney on Fire

June 3, 2012

Per Wikipedia, “Every 17 years, mature cicada nymphs emerge… After such a prolonged developmental phase, the adults are active for about 4 to 6 weeks.” Like the cicada, I rise up every few seasons to go on a bunch of blind date dates, and then− after the series of social tragedies that are truly beyond […]

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My Karate Kid, Part 2 or…Mad as a Hatter!

May 13, 2012

As I mentioned, I once dated one of my karate instructors.  It was circa 1996 in southern NJ.  I was church-mouse poor, i.e. I was one step away from pushing a baby carriage full of tin cans down the street.  Frankly, we’re all two or three lost paychecks away from that fate, but I digress.  […]

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My Own Personal Karate Kid~ Part 1

May 10, 2012

I once dated one of my karate instructors.  He seemed nice and normal between punching me in the face and kicking my legs out from under me in every class.  But he turned out to be massively fucked up.  Naturally. Naturally. To give you some framework, it was 1995, and I was living in southern […]

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Bad Woo & the U.S. Constitution

April 30, 2012

Teebone asked for a post tonight.  I’m supposed to be answering 212 unread work emails and reading paperwork.  Tomorrow, I’m going to be hysterical with workload.  But, fuck it.  Teebone, this one is for you. A regular question I get asked is, “Why aren’t you married?”  It’s an impolite question, really.  I’d like to ask […]

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Take that.

April 22, 2012

An Englishman, a Frenchman, and a New Yorker are captured by cannibals.  The cannibal chief says, “We’re going to kill you, eat you, and use your skins to make a canoe.  But you can choose how you will die.” The Englishman pulls out a revolver, yells “God Save the Queen!” and shoots himself in the […]

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April 22, 2012
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Why car insurance is exorbitant in NYC

April 18, 2012
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Booze, Shoes, and Boys with Tattoos

April 11, 2012

This past weekend was the Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekender (www.vivalasvegas.net).  Their 15th most-fabulous show, but only my second.   Let’s just say it was 48-hour of pure mayhem.  I loved it. Some girlfriends of mine bravely ditched the soul-sucking black hole of Corporate America to live their dream− selling fancy girl things.  They named the […]

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Chicks Digging Chicks

April 1, 2012

The real title of this post is “Why Women Don’t Run the World, Why Men Should Be Very Afraid, and Why I Separate Whites from Yolks,” but all that was too big for the header.  And I’m a Marketer by Trade, so I went with sex.  Sex sells.   I’m not talking about weight in […]

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Fat-Bottomed Girls. Freddie Mercury knew the score. Well, not really…

March 13, 2012

Next week begins a weight loss competition at work.  So, you know what I’m having for dinner tonight?  I know what you are thinking. Bacon with a side of Nutella.  And 99% of the time, you’d be right.  But tonight, I shall be dining on a White Chocolate Blueberry-Filled Crumbs Cupcake.  Try ever so hard […]

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Damn cat

March 8, 2012

I showed the cat a few of my sweet ass dance moves to Pitbull. I broke it down. I even gave her a little old school Roger Rabbit. She watched me for a while, unamused, then walked away. She totally doesn’t get me.

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Fracking carbs

March 4, 2012

I have a new tagline for Fiber One cereal. “For those who would like to potentially shit themselves in public… Fiber One!” I’m on a personal March Madness program- eating 6 times a day, high protein/low carbs, walking as much as possible, some random push-ups thrown in for good measure. All because I’m shaped like […]

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I’m climbing on my SoapBox. Where’s my stepladder?

February 5, 2012

I’m obsessed with Advertising, particularly taglines.  For those of you without professional marketing experience, a tagline is a few catchy words that tell a customer something about your business or product, particularly your Mission.  The pinnacle of tagline success is when it becomes part of popular culture.  A few of my personal favorites: Where’s the […]

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Sucky Suckerton

January 23, 2012

I took a muscle relaxer last night with the great hope of sleeping a 6 hours prior a week of work away from home.  Slept two whole hours, tossing and turning so much the cat got disgusted and went to sleep on the couch.  I dragged out to the car service at 5 AM- a gross […]

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January 22, 2012

There’s a 65-year old woman sitting next to me on the bus in a penguin hat. No, not the sports team. The animal. It has a big yellow beak that protects her forehead from the 50 degree weather here in NYC today. It’s clear. I’m surrounded.

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January 15, 2012

Angelina Jolie looks like a pipe cleaner with eyes. Seriously, eat a cheeseburger or 10.

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January 15, 2012
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Goddamn Typos!

January 10, 2012

Why can’t my eyes see them BEFORE the post goes up instead of after?!?  It’s because I’m close to 40, isn’t it?  Do NOT answer that.

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