This Fridge Is A White Guy With Dreadlocks

Let me guess: you moved to Portland six months ago after graduating from Smith with a degree in queer studies. You haven’t found a job yet, but you’re not sweating it because volunteering at Reading Frenzy for three hours a week totally counts. Your rental is down the street from Carrie Brownstein but you never even bother her when you’re walking your dog Milk. I mean, fame’s just a construct, right?

You plan on using those rotten bananas in the freezer to make banana bread at the next potluck. Last year it would have been vegan, but now you’ll probably throw some bacon in. You’re on the microbrew train even though sometimes you just want a fucking Corona Light. You’ve recently switched from Camel Lights to American Spirit Yellows to Bali Shag, but you totally support smoking bans. You don’t really know too many dudes, but you kind of wish you were one cause the Willy Nelson/Stonewall Jackson/Devendra Banhart look is so hot right now and it’s just not fucking fair.  Part of you regrets your Banksy tatt, but it’s cool because it marks a time in your life, you know?

You really, really want to be in Do & Don’ts, which is a secret, but not as bad as you want to move to Montreal, which is not a secret. You bought a keffiyeh seven months ago but haven’t put it on it since Rachel Ray wore one in a Dunkin Doughnuts commercial.  SXSW was way more manageable this year since you finally got an iPhone.

You totally cried on election night.

Scientastic!

I want to thank everyone for participating in my Very Scientistic Study Of Your Fridge (VSSOYF). The team and I are analyzing around-the-cock to bring you the results. I think you’re really gonna learn a lot about yourselves, people. I certainly am.

Who keeps nail polish in the fridge? That’s right. You weirdos.

The first email I got today.

It’s going to be a good day….

Dear Katie,

Earlier this evening I was talking to J. Storm about this miraculous sweet potato with a vagina I found at work. I was showing her a picture of it on my cell phone and telling her that I wanted to show everyone I knew, that I wished I could put it on posters or on the internet, and she agreed that I should. And I asked: “But what would be an appropriate venue for a sweet potato with a vagina?”

The immediate answer, of course, was “Katie Herzog’s blog.” I think that’s a ringing endorsement.

Thanks, Lizzie!

Christmas, Syd’s Style

Christmas this year began in a rather undignified manner and ended in a drunken one. The highlight: getting lifted by a huge Army guy with hearts tattooed on his forearms. The Syd’s Christmas, however, included an open bar, bloody knuckles, karaoke, fancy dress, gold hightops, and ended with my co-worker and fellow trouble-maker saying “Katie needs a ride” into the mic and me grabbing the mic from her and saying “And I’ll suck your dick.  Wait, I don’t suck dick.”  Thanks to Jessica Storm for unblocking this memory.

Photos from the evening, stolen from Jared’s Myspace: