STFU Fridays: “Only Old Ladies Craft”


I am 30 years old. I have no more (less) than 4 grey hairs (the hair stylist says they were a fluke, because they never came back). I still wear boots a lot. And skinny jeans. I don’t have arthritis (just yet). And my days are not defined by bowel movements (at least not mine).

My point is this: I am young and spry. And yet I craft like a motherfucker.

I have been on vacation in this weird, faux Danish town and one of the things about these types of places is that they are filled with old ladies and their quilting bees. The town’s local hero is Hans Christian Andersen. And they have a year-round Christmas store called Jule Has. That’s about all they’ve got going for them; so you know – what else are they going to do but quilt and knit?

Back to me: if you can imagine the sound of a dolphin having an orgasm while giving birth, that is about the noise that came out of my mouth while at the first of many craft stores I visited on this vacation to the Hans Christian Andersen-Jule Has-town of old ladies and quilting bee shit. Non-human ecstasy combined with sheer horror. You see, while getting my craft-gasm on, I overheard someone walking by outside the store, saying that “only old ladies craft.”

Shut the fuck up, bitch.

If only old ladies craft, then stop posting DIY shit on Pinterest

Seriously, the whole concept of Pinterest is crafting. Saying something is DIY is synonymous with saying it was a craft. Everything is creative and adorable and cute (crafty), or else why the fuck would you pin it?

Bitches that Pinterest all this creative, adorable shit and then say that only old ladies craft need to shut the fuck up. Bitches that post food porn and then say that only old ladies craft need to shut the fuck up as well (because nice-looking food is – in essence – crafting too).

Bitches that DIY their whole fucking wedding, or create house decor out of duct tape and spray paint, and then say that only old ladies craft for real need to shut the fuck up. Shut. The. Fuck. UP.

If only old ladies craft, stop wearing hand-knitted sweaters

Reaping the benefits of not-old-ladies crafting and then saying that only old ladies craft deserves a very large STFU.

Nothing makes me more angry than someone who talks shit about something, and embraces it anyway. You know, like someone that says Taco Bell is for people with no taste buds, but then gets a part-time job there when the hooker and blow fund dries up. Or a person that rails on about people on welfare, while standing in line for a prescription paid for by the free, state healthcare for people of low income.

Unless bitches know for a fact that their hand-knitted sweaters, socks, bags, scarves, or dildo warmers are – in fact – crafted by some crafty old lady, they for real need to shut the fuck up.

If only old ladies craft, then why is Etsy full of young people selling their crafted wares?

Have you ever been to Etsy, faithful blog followers? It is full of a lot of shit. I mean shit in a neutral term – some is cool (I bought the head piece for my wedding off of there); a lot is junk. There’s also some opportunism going on over the site, like that guy that was selling the homemade heart clutch bags to remember the victims of the Sandy Hook shooting (and not donating a penny of it victims and families of the shooting).

But old ladies don’t sell their crafts on Etsy! Most of the old ladies I know don’t even know what Etsy is!! Etsy is loaded with young bitches that do a lot of crafts, who then think that they’ll just jump on the bandwagon and make some extra money like all the other young bitches that sell their crafty wares on the website.

I craft like a motherfucker. And I am young and spry (well, sort of). This Shut the Fuck Up Fridays is for all those bitches and their hand-knitted dildo warmers who say that “only old ladies craft.” Young ladies do too; and it probably isn’t fair for me to imply that it’s only the ladies that craft, because men craft all the time – and that is totally OK.

So all those bitches with their DIY Pinterest accounts can just keep their dildos in their hand-knitted warmers and mouths shut the fuck up.


For these things, this bitch was made happy today…

There are very few things in this world that make me happy. I’m not talking about people – there are people that make me happy. And ideas that make me happy, but really I’m talking about things. You know so much about the way we live our lives now is dependent on the things we have, and I believe that in a terribly materialistic world our happiness is dependent on how much stuff we have. Anyway, I don’t want to get too philosophical tonight except to say that I am not a materialist so rarely find happiness in my possessions. I have stuff because I need it or it makes my life a little easier. That’s about it … usually …

A few things, though, make me pretty happy to have. Just last week I was talking about reasons I should be on hoarders – those things make me happy that I hoard in mass quantities for seemingly illogical reasons. Notebooks. Chapsticks. Highlighters. Sweaters. Those types of things. Then there are things that I do not hoard but that also having make me happy. Today, I happened to experience quite a few of them and for these things, this bitch was made happy today.

New Shoes

Holy mother of God, do shoes make me happy. Today I went shoe shopping and I believe I had a shoegasm in the middle of the store. “Ooohhhh!” I moaned ecstatically as I tried on a new pair of Nine West brown leather boots with a zipper up the side. Amazing and half off, those made me happy. I also bought a new pair of Fergie’s flats collection – they are the classiest black and grey cloth-covered flats I have ever owned. New shoes make me happier than just about anything out there.

Mexican food

Before moving to California, I believe I could count on one hand the number of times I had authentic Mexican food. So obviously, for the last ten years since moving here I have been making up for it. I don’t eat all the crappy, heavy, fatty Mexican food either – I am perfectly fine with a light taco and some rice, or just baked chips with salsa. It’s the spice that makes me happy. It’s the “this is so hot I’m crying and my nose is running”-experience of shoveling bucket loads of salsa down my throat. Sometimes I think I could just drink the shit. Today I had some salsa and chips and it was like a party in my mouth.


Knitting is a really new hobby I have taken up and I cannot get enough of it. It has been since about last November that I started, and it was simply a matter of someone putting needles and yarn in my hand and saying “GO!” I haven’t been able to stop since. I love doing it – mainly because it is relaxing, is a way to escape, and is something creative that I can do even when I cannot get anything else done because Good Luck Charlie is blaring in surround sound. But what makes me really really happy about knitting is all the yarn. I love it – it’s so soft and colorful and warm. Today I had to pick up some more for my completely insane knitting project of making a scarf or hat for all of my family members (insane because I am doing all of them in just under four weeks). And, of course, I bought way more than I actually needed.


Another thing that I love doing is reading, and I don’t mean reading happy pappy crap – I mean good reading. Classics. Literary genius. Humor that is actually funny, not merely trying to be. I love words and reading so much, which is why I have always wanted to become a writer. I will never read the Harry Potter series. Nor Hunger Games. Nor Twilight. But there are so many books out there that I have yet to experience and I hope I have an opportunity to. Last year, I made myself super happy by setting a goal for the number of books I wanted to read in the year (forty), and I actually achieved it. This year I’m trying for fifty – accomplishing this will of course result in something similar to my shoegasm cited above. My point, though, is that not only does the act of reading make me happy, but buying new books is something I cannot stop myself from doing. Today I got two new books in the mail that I had ordered about a week ago: Dickens’ ‘Great Expectations’ and Annie Dillard’s ‘An American Childhood.’ As soon as I am done with this blog, I am starting them both.

I’m sure tomorrow I will be back to snarky and bitchy and being completely miserable. For today, though, I’m basking in the afterglow of my shoe, salsa, yarn, and book-gasms.