The Night I Didn't Get Engaged

Why is everybody getting married and having babies?  And by "everybody," I clearly mean, "not me."

Judy Dumbfuck was dating a guy for five minutes before he got down on one hairy, ugly, fat knee and proposed with a ring that no doubt came from the bottom of a cereal box.  She said, "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"  I bet my mom $5 they'd be divorced within a year.  At least they won't need a prenup.  They're broke and don't own shit.  There's nothing to nup.  You can't split nothing in half.

Melanie Shithead got engaged, too.  Melanie's been dating the guy for the last 800 years.  Melanie's now-fiance is perfect: handsome, rich, tall, ripped, intelligent, honest, loyal, and devoted.  Melanie's ring is so heavy, she walks with a limp.  Melanie is a lucky little fuck nugget.

Crystal Shit-My-Pants is on Baby #3.  She and her husband hate each other.  But it doesn't matter, because they had cute Christmas cards and write sweet messages on each other's Facebooks and act like he isn't actually porking that waitress from Denny's.  Crystal gives her children eccentric and unique names.  Literally.  She named them Eccentric and Unique.  #3 is going to be Individual.  All three will be ridiculed endlessly by their peers.  I'll continue to point out how fat Crystal is going to get and the fact that when she laughs a little too hard, she might pee herself.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend treats me with the utmost respect.  He buys me flowers regularly and takes me on exotic trips.  He tells me he loves me every single day and pampers me like the princess I am.  He loves taking me to his family's house and introducing me to all of his friends.  I'm his #1 priority, and my happiness means the world to him doesn't exist.

Every single night, I fall asleep to some boring documentary on Netflix.  I'm pale and fat, and my neighbor checks in once a week to make sure I'm not dead.  I once finished an entire box of Twinkies in one sitting and I think I'm growing a mustache. My mom tried to pay her coworker to take me on a date, but he said there wasn't enough money in the world.

Enjoy your marriages, you dolts.  I hope your babies look like Jabba the Hutt.

Love,
Corrine
xoxo

The Most Amazing Thing You'll Ever See.

FRIENDS!  Great news.

As you know, we've held off on self-publishing The Penis Chronicles because our aim has been to land a literary agent and go that route; and this is still our goal.

You also know by now, however, that this is a rather lengthy process, a great majority of which is spent waiting to hear back from agencies.  And then waiting some more.  And then having a snack.  And then waiting after that.

SO, in addition to querying our asses off (literally, our asses are gone), we're venturing into a smaller side project that will tie in very nicely: I Dated the Zodiac.

With our interest in astrology, we can't resist.

This will be a very short read and self-published.  In the name of marketing the shit out of ourselves (which is hard to do when you have no asses left), we've created a new blog, Twitter, Facebook, and StumbleUpon page for I Dated the Zodiac.  Things are a little nekkid right now, but pop a Xanax and relax.  We're getting to it.   

In case you missed them, here are the links to The Penis Chronicles' Twitter, Facebook, and StumbleUpon pages.

Our hopes are to use this new piece to get our foot in the door with a literary agency for The Penis Chronicles, and then make our first appearance on The Ellen DeGeneres Show.

Stay tuned for updates and social networking galore.

Love,
Megan and Dani