melissa beck

January 25, 2012 at 10:16pm
9,048 notes
reblogged from evenmorerandomness

When you see this billion-note reblog on Tosh, pay motherfucking homage to the original.

And if you really want to take it way back to the beginning, please review the contractual terms upon which this hairstyle was invented.

I married a genius.

(Source: evenmorerandomness)

January 24, 2012 at 7:46am
13 notes

And yet, she “was not aware that searches were being conducted” for Caylee. Therefore, we must suspend all common sense and belief systems in order to wrap our brains around how she got and why she is wearing a Find Caylee shirt on two separate occasions based on a cursory Google image search. Think about the depths of her evil. She killed that baby, then proceeded to help find her while wearing the shirt depicting the already dead baby. Think about that, WOW! This lying piece of shit. If only she’d survive a meth lab explosion with 89% of her face melted off. The only working thing I want left on her face is one good eye in one good eye socket. Then maybe she can see herself for what she really is — a monster.

January 23, 2012 at 7:17pm
29 notes

Justin Beck is making me bring Shalom to his show next week because “that’s my baby and that’s what I want so…” (He’s obviously still harboring resentment over the fact that I refused to bring her the last time he played this particular venue but, in my defense, she was the tiniest actual little baby then).

Anyway, she’s almost three now and she’s quite a busybody. Because I believe that she understands everything I say, I have been preparing her for this show by telling her what to expect and how to behave. This is not just a trip to the grocery store where we can have the conversation in the car before we go in. This is a big endeavor so you know, we need repetition and illustration.

Tonight, I explained how bright the lights would be and how there would be so many people and lots of loud sounds because that’s what happens at concerts. To illustrate, I pulled up a YouTube video of them playing on 1.1.11 and she was just like meh. She’s seen that one, I guess. But dude, you were a whole year younger though.

On the side, she saw all the little thumbnails for other Glassjaw videos and she wanted me to click on an interview because she instantly recognized her dad in it. I clicked the video and as it played she got really close to the laptop screen and started yelling,

“Daryl! Daryl! Do you see me? Hi Daryl!”

and

“Daddy, daddy, daddy! Hey, hey, hey! It’s me! Lomi. Do you see me?”

I asked her if she saw Manny and she said, “My Nanny is at home with my Papa, silly.” (Shorty and Mercy = Papa and Nanny)

She continued to wave at the screen and yell, “Hey guys! Guys!”

I think she thought the YouTube video was FaceTime or video chat on gmail. She was getting really annoyed that they weren’t saying hello back to her so closed the laptop and said,

“I need a trumpet so we better pay the money.”

January 22, 2012 at 5:30pm
10 notes

After the third pee accident you, calmly now, clean up the mess and the child (again). You send the child to play with her dad in the other room regardless of whatever it is that he’s doing. What emails? What important phone call? Get that guitar out of here! You then take the laptop into the bathroom, because the bathroom is the only room where your husband-child and your child-child actually respect your privacy, and you plug the headphones in and you watch this video as hot tears of frustration stream down your face. Then you laugh at yourself like a maniac cartoon villain. That’s potty training in my experience.

January 17, 2012 at 10:23am
45 notes

PrincessMelissa Throwback #2

Remember the time I vomited on Justin Beck at the gay club, and thus knew he’d be my soul mate and co-parent. Yeah, that. This was called Do You Really Want To Make Me Cry? and posted on October 12, 2004. I was a terrible writer and I’m not fishing for compliments. I’m saying I rambled on and on, man alive.

PrincessMelissa Throwback #1

A very young person on Twitter just said he’d like to start “a blog or something with just words.” I instantly felt old as shit recalling the days I’d sit in my studio apartment in LA putting up “web entries” before I knew it was even called “web logging,” then shortened to just “blogging.” In the year 2000, y’all. I kept that blog going into 2009. Just words. One place. Old school PrincessMelissa. It had exactly three looks in nine years. There were the icons of my paintings on the original. Then there was the splash page where you click on the sofa to come in, like “Have a seat and read with me.” And then there was the tiny PrincessMelissa logo all over with the tag line “Them chickens is ash and I’m lotion.” People really liked that last one because it had font control! Make this bigger, wow!

Some folks have emailed me to say that they’ve been reading my stuff for ten plus years. I’m like FOR REAL FOR REAL? Thank you! (small voice) We are old! But wasn’t it so great then? This whole thinking up original content. There was no reblog button. Think about that shit. Whoa. Anyway, in the spirit of “just words,” I’m going to dust some of those relics of the past off and present them here. Let’s start with Lomi stomping through my vagina, shall we?