I’m so sorry.
Good news, cocks and kittens! I’ve written the world’s worst children’s book “Inspector Pancakes Helps the President of France Solve the White Orchid Murders!” You’ll be able to pre-order a really nice version of the book when the Kickstarter starts next month, but for a short while still you can buy the DIY version (and snag a few of my other ridiculously bad ideas while you’re at it)!
on Square Market
Oh yeah, I have a store now. It is an amusing thing to gawk at, even if you (wisely) aren’t purchasing anything.
In other Important Karla News:
I am SUPER-EXCITED to announce the first-ever non-Halloween issue of BOO! from Monkeybrain, the BOO! 2014 HOLIDAY SPECIAL! Yule be screaming (har!) after these stories from KELLY TINDALL, DYLAN TODD, MATTHEW DIGGES, MATT SMIGIEL, KARLA PACHECO, SEAN POPPE, SCOTT FAULKNER, JORDAN WITT, RJ WHITE and MANNING KRULL, with cover art by yours truly! 99 cents for seven terrifying yuletide tales – it goes on sale on CHRISTMAS EVE, HOW SPOOOOOOKY IS THAT??? Not very, really, but consider it a special gift under your digital tree!
My comic is a creepy short about AN EVIL KING and YULE LOGS! Illustrated by the ever charming Sean Poppe.
I’m also working on a filthy, “historical-ish” lady pirate comic book about Mary Read and Anne Bonney with amazing artist Steve LeCouilliard. It is called DREADFUL SIRENS, it is a ton of fun and seriously, no fooling, I’m not fucking joking – it is really, really filthy.
ALSO ALSO, and this is HUGE: I was accepted into Spike Trotman’s latest comic anthology project NEW WORLD. Spike is basically my hero when it comes to self-publishing and she always puts out phenomenal books. I’m overwhelmed, honored, and beyond excited to be a part of it. I’ll be working with the marvelous Kory Bing who has her own Kickstarter running right now, go help her out and get yourself some cool comics!
So anyway…I’m writing comics now! I guess I should have mentioned that earlier. I’ll be appearing at the Vancouver Comic Art Festival in May, and will hopefully have some fine sequential wares to sell you all in person! I should also be running around at a few other cons this year, I will keep ya’ posted.
As you may have figured out, it’s been a pretty amazing year for your ol’ pal Karla. I’m working with incredible people on unbelievable projects (including a few I can’t talk about yet) and I can’t wait to share it all with you. Thank you so much for sticking around.
In the meantime, go buy some of my filth, why dontcha?
“We would like to welcome Jeffrey Michael Docherty to the world! Born 9/14/14, 7lbs 5oz, Mother is feeling trapped and regrets dropping out of grad school, Baby is doing great!”
“Alicia and Dave are pretending they are overjoyed to announce the birth of their beautiful daughter, “Dave refused to pull out when he was drunk.” Baby is doing great!
“Hey everyone, Dakota Rose was born at 3am today! Dad Steve hates the name and asks if Lisa wants their daughter to be a stripper! Mom Lisa says Steve can fuck off after that shit he pulled at the Fourth of July bbq! Baby is doing great!”
“Caryn Smith-Terrance and Paul Mantini begrudgingly welcome Natalie Marie to their previously perfect life and oh shit why didn’t we think this through, even the dogs are an imposition half the time. Christ, Caryn, I told you to end it. Baby is doing great! Unfortunately.”
“We were so blessed to shepherd Love Treefriend Sunchild into the planet at 11:45pm last night. This astral spririt of deliberately and annoyingly obscured gender will change it’s name to Robert and never speak to us again in approximately 14 years! Child of the universe is doing great!”
“Xander Ross Gordon delayed his parent’s divorce by three months this morning! Baby is doing great!”
he [verb] alone, the [circle one: cop/protester] in the [time of day].
the [meteorological condition] [religious ceremony]’ed his [body part].
he [sad verb] as he stared at the [cop/protester].
“just a [racial slur so I’ll have something really powerful to yell when I read this in concert, probably the n-bomb]”
he [sad verb]
he [sad verb]
Jay and I are driving when “Take a Picture” by Filter begins playing on the radio
Me: I have a funny story about that song…see, Ritchie was totally shitfaced on a plane-
Jay: You tell that story every time that song comes on. I know all your stories.
Me: Hey, I can start telling you the stories I haven’t told you, but you’re not gonna like them.
Jay: Why would you tell me stories I don’t want to hear? Make up some fake stories!
“Paralyzer” by Finger Eleven is the next song on the radio
Me: Okay, so one time I DIDN’T sleep with the lead singer of this band…
Jay: Tell me the Filter story again.
Jay texts me a picture of two adorable lesbian cosplayers
Me: Oh wow, that’s fantastic! Side note: I would totally hit that.
Jay: You’d hit so many things on your way to hit that.
Me: It’d be like a pinball game and my cooch would be on TILT!
Jay: Jesus, Karla.
Jay and I are getting ready for our anniversary dinner. I have…had drinks…while showering. I am possibly twerking nudely across a hotel room.
Me: AW YEAH BOOTY GO POP
Jay: Booty is going to a nice restaurant. Do you think booty can behave itself for 30 damn minutes?
Me: BOOTY PROMISES NOTHING
That night I drink all of my beverages out of oversized novelty pails intended for sharing with entire tables of bachelorette parties. Jay eats his steak in silence and thinks about his bad decisions.
I had hip replacement surgery on March 11th, 2013. I wrote the following the day before surgery, but didn’t post it because…well. I didn’t. But here you go, if you’re interested in what goes on in my head when I’m not writing dick jokes for children.
I’m getting a new hip tomorrow. This will be my fourth major surgery in, oh…26 months? I rarely talk about this, but I have a degenerative joint disorder that’s sort of like arthritis and a lot like having quick drying cement in between all your bones. It’s called Multiple Epiphyseal Dysplasia. It’s extremely painful. I don’t like talking about it. Little Karla still has a lot of bitterness about walking like a goddamn duck through most of grade school, until some nice doctors broke both her legs at age 13 (It was a corrective procedure, I didn’t owe them money or anything. Though presumably my parents did after the surgery). Things got a little better after that, but I’ve know since I was 8 years old that multiple hip replacements and probably a wheelchair were in my future. It sucks, it hurts, it’s often humiliating and embarrassing, and I deal with it.
I don’t necessarily deal with it well (see, 36 years of semi-to-outright reckless behavior), but I deal with it.
My left hip has been replaced three times (twice in the past two years), and on Monday doctors will finally swap precision ceramic and metal “science stuff” for the crumpled newspapers and broken light bulbs that are currently making up my right hip. On the outside, it will still look like an outrageus shelf booty…on the inside? I look like an AT-AT walker.
On top of the hip surgeries, I also had a hysterectomy not too long ago. My body finally realized I should have been eaten by wolves long ago, and decided to hit the self-destruct button on my uterus for the good of the herd. Not having children was the choice I probably would have made – because children are selfish, vile little buckets of hate and nastiness and I don’t like them – but it’s never fun having your decisions made for you.
Once again, I dealt with it.
In the days and weeks leading up to surgery you are repeatedly warned about all the complications that “probably-won’t-but-we’re-legally-obligated-to-tell-you-in-graphic-horrifying-detail-MIGHT occur.” I know them by heart now: bleeding, infection, death, nerve damage, paralysis, coma, brain damage…I have a stack of papers on file with the hospital that can be summarized “Pull the plug.” If I need a feeding tube, pull the plug. Need a respirator, pull the plug. Taking a nap and look pretty comfortable…pull the plug. My greatest fear is getting trapped in this shitty, broken down body.
The closest I’ll ever come to knowing how an athlete feels before a big game (for pretty fucking obvious reasons) is in the few days before a surgery. I start shutting the outside world down. I crawl into my head and methodically close off my emotions, my fear. The worry the surgery will go wrong or fail (it happened two years ago, and I spent a year in pain before they fixed it), that a scalpel will slip…it’s so overwhelming that I HAVE to shut it all down. I have to seal the scared part of me away and look straight ahead, unwavering.
I am a professional. I will deal with this.
There’s not a lot of room for the people who love me during this time. I’m vulnerable and raw and nervy. I make a lot of truly horrifying jokes, but other than that, I’m silent. I’ve got my game face on. I don’t have room for you in my head right now. I love you, but I’m busy dealing with this.
I am a machine. I will deal with this.
I prioritize. I viciously slash what has to be done now and what can wait. I delegate housecleaning and dog walking and I pay all the bills and I grocery shop for nourishing, easy to prepare foods that won’t be too much trouble for Jay to fix, and I pack my hospital bag, and I wash myself with antiseptic soap twice daily as ordered by my doctor and I masturbate until I run out of batteries (because I won’t get a chance to for a while), and I do laundry and load books I’ll never read on my Kindle, and I delete all my porn in case I die.
I am selfish and do what I want. I eat non-stop and play video games and pop an extra vicodin to make the video games more fun.
I love you, but I have to deal with this.
Fingers crossed (and legs very much not) it will go okay tomorrow. But if it doesn’t…We’ll deal with it
Note: The surgery did not go well. When I woke up after the surgery I was informed my leg had been broken during the procedure. I spent 36 hours waiting for them to redo the replacement, which required five hours of surgery, four units of blood, and a week recovering in the hospital.
I dealt with it.
I’m fine now.
Update to the Update:
I am participating in my first Triathlon on August 9th, 2014. I dealt the FUCK out of this year.
It’ll be good to get my game face on for real.
One of the lesser known drawbacks of living with me* is how the INSTANT I begin any sort of work out program, I begin flexing at Jay. Constantly.
“Pass the salt?”
I grab the salt like it’s a barbell and FLEX my massive biceps
“Now could you clean up all the salt?”
I leap into a body building pose, popping my guns as I point at the salt all over the floor
“Goddamnit Karla, you’ve gone to the gym ONCE”
“And now YOU’RE going to the GUNSHOW!”
We are driving around in the car, listening to the radio
“I went swimming yesterday.”
“Good for you.”
“…Hmph. This is a stupid song. I’m…just gonna change the station.”
I look Jay straight in the eye as I stretch my arm towards the radio…and then…FLEX
“HOLY SHIT! Keep your eyes on the road!”
“YOU NEVER WANT TO GO TO MY GUNSHOW!”
Jay finally figures out it’s better to go to the damn gunshow
“Here’s your coffee.”
“OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THOSE GUNS!”
I know he’s patronizing me, but I’m taking it. FLEX!
What did the Royal Rabbit need after the Knight jerked off onto him?
SIR CUM FUR RINSE!
How did the Knight’s Semen find its way through his Testicles onto the Royal Rabbit’s lustrous coat?
IT SIR CUM NAVIGATED!
What position was the Knight standing in as he rhythmically pumped his throbbing Erection, his testes pulling tight, legs shaking, the Orgasm building deep in his loins as the pressure mounted…until with a powerful shudder and a gasp of Ecstasy he released his seed in a hot, delicious flood against the Royal Rabbit?
HIS SIR CUM STANCE!
How Big was the patch of Sticky Fur the Knight left on the Royal Rabbit?
SIR CUM SIZED!
Who wrote up the Orders of Execution when the King figured out who was Last Seen by the Ejaculate covered Royal Rabbit?
THE SIR CUM SCRIBE!
Art generously curated by Karen’s Whimsy, presumably for the use of not awful people who aren’t me.
Dear Ms. Pacheco,
We regret to inform you we must reject your proposed Kickstarter Project [$635.56 For A Personalized Satin Jacket Like the Nice Chest Guy had in Drive] We do not currently have a [Jay’s being a little bitch and won’t buy it for me] category.
Acceptable project categories are Art, Comics, Dance, Design, Fashion, Film, Food, Games, Music, Photography, Publishing, Technology, and Theater. However, we realize guidelines are never perfect, and we care deeply about trying to get them right. If you think [Jay’s being a little bitch and won’t buy it for me] is a category we should reconsider, please fill out the attached appeal form. Kickstarter relies on voices like yours to help us protect the health and creative spirit of Kickstarter for the long term.
Thanks for reading!
The Kickstarter Team
Dear Ms. Pacheco,
We’re glad you took the time to fill out our appeal form so thoroughly. While changing your category submission to “Fashion, I guess” is certainly a step in the right direction, the Kickstarter team had several concerns:
- Instead of a promotional video, you submitted the movie “Drive” in its entirety. This violates both our copyrighted materials restrictions, and our suggested video length.
- Your $200 Reward Tier: “I will look at a list of names while wearing my new jacket and maybe your name is on that list, who knows?” does not technically violate our guidelines, but it should be more specific. At the very least, you should mention how long you will be looking at the list, and how many names will be on it.
- The $1271.12 Push Goal “I will buy a second jacket, probably blue” is unclear. It didn’t appear that any of the reward tiers included a jacket for backers, despite your extremely graphic two-page description of “crazy loco scorpion” embroidery.
Finally, Kickstarter is a crowdfunding source to help YOU CREATE the ARTISTIC VISION of YOUR DREAMS. We do not allow funding for third party sources such as “Spencer’s Gifts” or “Maybe my cousin Vanessa, though she kind of fucked up my prom dress.”
Have you tried visiting our “Kickstarter School?” It’s packed with tips and tricks to define your Kickstarter Project. We also recommend looking at some of our top Kickstarters to see what makes a project a success!
Best of Luck!
The Kickstarter Team
Dear Ms. Pacheco
We have reviewed your Kickstarter proposal “Cures Tit Cancer or Something” and we find it highly unlikely the cure for breast cancer “was apparently in my basement the whole time and I forgot about it,” or that it will cost you only “$635.56 to mail it out to all the cancer titties.”