So you’ve forgotten your one year blogiversary.

Step 1: Don’t Panic.

Okay, maybe panic a little. Or a lot. Grab your towel. You know where your towel is, don’t you?

Step 2: Apologize.

Dear Blog, I has a sad because I forgotzors ur birthday.

Step 3: Apologize like you mean it, asshole.

You can’t tell me what to do.

Step 4: Continue being an asshole while your blog quietly weeps and plots revenge.

Are you- you’re not really- oh for fuck’s sake…c’mere, you. Give me a hug. I’m sorry, really.

Step 5: Make restitution.

Here, have a cookie. Blogs love cookies.

Step 6: Make better restitution.

Beers all around!

Step 7: Make decidedly-hazardous-to-your-remaining-brain-cells restitution.

Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters all around!

Step 8: Make a drunken and ultimately regrettable speech.

“Lishen up, everrone. SHHHHHHHHHHH. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I jusht wanted to shay *hic* happy *hic* belated birthday to the…*hic*…to the…the besht gosh darn blurrggggg everrrrrrrrr!!!1!#%!! *sobs into drink* I love you, man. I love you.”

Bartender: “Who’s she talking to? We’ve been closed for a half hour.”

Busboy: “The jukebox, looks like.”

Step 9: Sober up, invent time machine, return to May 29th, celebrate blogiversary on time to eliminate need for belated regrettable speech and ensuing hangover.

…OR more likely fuck up, go further back in time than intended, step on a stupid fucking butterfly and doom humanity.

Step 10: Fuck that noise.

Because A Sound of Thunder was bad enough the first time.

Step 11: Thank your readers for being awesome… (Psst: You’re awesome!)

…after you’ve spent a while marveling yet again over the fact that you actually have readers.

Step 12: Give yourself a pat on the back and a phony award.

Go ahead. You’re worth it.

The Nut’s Unhelpful Instructables: How To Food

Are you struggling with a surplus of efficiency? Do you suffer long hours of boredom stemming from always doing things right the first time? Do you find yourself envious of those who needlessly overcomplicate everything, because they will never know the mental anguish of actually having to TRY to keep themselves occupied?

You’re in the right place.

Let’s get unproductive.

 

Today’s Topic: Feeding Yourself

1. Arrive home from work, tired and ravenous.

2. Drop purse and coat on floor, make beeline for fridge.

3. Open fridge door cautiously, checking for portals to parallel dimensions, Sumerian gods and/or their minions.

Remember, if someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes.

4. Consider the meal potential of several bruised gala apples, a tub of crumbled feta cheese, two wilted Swiss chard leaves, a tablespoon’s worth of tzatziki dip, a bottle of chocolate pumpkin beer, one egg, and the various ten thousand dressings and sauces that you have sitting in the fridge instead of any real food.

5. Close fridge.

6. Open cupboard.

7. Scan all the cans and packages that, if cleverly combined, could result in any number of perfectly good meals.

8. Take out half-full bag of white chocolate chips instead and stuff a handful into your mouth.

Because white chocolate’s not its own food group, but it should be.

9. Return bag to cupboard, close cupboard door.

10. Text husband whining about how hungry you are.

11. Read husband’s reply in which he makes several sensible meal suggestions.

12. Consider divorcing husband because he just doesn’t get you.

13. Decide to order take-out.

14. Peruse menus online for about 45 minutes, because growling stomach or no, you are the most indecisive person ever.

Still too many choices.

15. Finally settle on Chines- no, hang on, maybe a nice curry dish would be bett- or what about…

16. Another 20 minutes later, close internet browser.

17. Get up, put your coat back on and grab your purse.

18. Walk to the grocery store and buy real food.

Fact: all grocery bags must contain a baguette.

19. Proudly return home with your purchases.

20. Put away groceries and admire your now well-stocked fridge.

21. Close fridge door.

22. Open cupboard.

23. Retrieve bag of white chocolate chips and pour into a bowl.

24. Dinner is served.

 

The Nut’s Unhelpful Instructables: How To Lock Your Car In 21 Easy Steps

Are you struggling with a surplus of efficiency? Do you suffer long hours of boredom stemming from always doing things right the first time? Do you find yourself envious of those who needlessly overcomplicate everything, because they will never know the mental anguish of actually having to TRY to keep themselves occupied?

You’re in the right place.

Let’s get unproductive.

 

Today’s Topic: Locking Your Car

1. Arrive home and park car in garage.

2. Lock car.

3. Exit parking garage.

4. Walk up two flights of stairs to your apartment.

5. Hesitate as you are about to unlock your apartment door.

6. Wonder whether you actually locked the car or if you just think you did.

7. Walk down one flight of stairs.

8. Pause.

9. Decide you definitely remember hearing your car make its customary short “I’m locking now, bitches!” horn beep.

10. Walk back up one flight of stairs.

11. Stop.

12. Hammertime.

12. Remember it’s better to be safe than sorry.

13. Walk down two flights of stairs.

14. Check on car, which was in fact locked.

15. Press lock button on keyless entry remote for good measure.

16. Walk back to stairwell.

17. Trip on first step and fumble keyless entry remote.

18. Worry you may have pressed unlock button by accident during fumble.

19. Go back and check that car is still locked.

20. Tuck car keys safely away in coat pocket.

21. Walk up two flights of stairs.