Baby is doing great!

little miracles

“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!”

the new love of our lives

“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!”

Finally we are a family!

“Xander Ross Gordon delayed his parent’s divorce by three months this morning! Baby is doing great!”



let the healing begin

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]




Every day with you is an adventure

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.


Jay: Booty is going to a nice restaurant. Do you think booty can behave itself for 30 damn minutes?


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.



Getting my head in the game

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.

Believe it or not, this is the BEFORE

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.

I've worn this shirt to every surgery

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.

Going clubbing Later

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.

Good Attitude

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


Best, Karla.

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.

So much goddamn metal in my ass

I dealt with it.

A positive outlook is the key to recovery

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.

If you talk about guns like I ain’t got none…you are correct

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.

I work ouuuuut

“Pass the salt?”

I grab the salt like it’s a barbell and FLEX my massive biceps

“This salt?”

“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

“THIS salt?”

“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!”


Mad guns, y'all

Jay finally figures out it’s better to go to the damn gunshow

“Here’s your coffee.”


Jay is the one in purple

I know he’s patronizing me, but I’m taking it. FLEX!



*The other drawbacks are obvious, well documented, and legion.


 Children enjoy stories about Brave Knights

What did the Royal Rabbit need after the Knight jerked off onto him?


Tales of Adventure

How did the Knight’s Semen find its way through his Testicles onto the Royal Rabbit’s lustrous coat?


Smiting Injustic for King and Country!

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?


Seriously, Kids fucking LOVE Knights and Shit

How Big was the patch of Sticky Fur the Knight left on the Royal Rabbit?


Children also enjoy Jokes and Wordplay

Who wrote up the Orders of Execution when the King figured out who was Last Seen by the Ejaculate covered Royal Rabbit?



Seriously, though, don't tell these jokes to any kids. I'll go to Jail.


Art generously curated by Karen’s Whimsy, presumably for the use of not awful people who aren’t me.


More like DICKstarter!

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

Ahahaha no, I got it..more like DICKFARTER!

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.”


The Doom Cycle

In an effort to avoid writing any new material, I was browsing through the ol’ hard drive and found an apology card I made for Jay a few years back. The bitch/baby factory has since been demolished, but I perhaps one of you lovely lady-nerds can make use of this lovely, museum-quality artwork during your most special time.

Seriously, I was SUCH a bitch

Parade Pisser No.1

This article originally appeared in The Proof but I’m finally putting it up here for you cheap bastards. One of these days I might even get around to writing Parade Pisser No. 2!


PARADE PISSER: Falling Skies and Sugar Crashes

Despite rarely going to an actual movie theater anymore (I love pause buttons and pooping in my own bathroom) I could not wait for Wreck-It Ralph and Skyfall to hit theaters. Two of the most highly anticipated movies of the year opened to rave reviews, critical acclaim, and ecstatic tweets from all my friends. For once I was happily in line opening weekend, grubby hands full of popcorn, heart full of hope, eyes so full of wonder…

I hated them.


They wrecked it

One third of this poster is accurate

Oh man, I was excited for this one. The trailer! Where we get to see all the different video game characters and the villain support group and the grand central station where you can go to EVERY video game world and oh my god this is gonna be amazing and funny and wonderful and John C. Reilly and Jane Lynch and Jack McBreyer and WOW!

That part was indeed great.  It was also only the first 10 minutes of the film, before it abandoned video games entirely for the Pepto-Bismal pink bullshit candy world of “Sugar Rush.” Instead of Mario and Lara Croft we get Laffy Taffy and Sarah Silverman telling doody jokes. Now, I like a good poo joke as much, if not considerably more, than the next guy…but these weren’t jokes. This was Sarah Silverman saying the word “Doody” three times and a background artist patting himself on the back for a Nesquicksand pun.

For the record, yes, I cried during Wreck-It Ralph. We all cried. Multiple times. But I have seasonal affective disorder, so I right now I cry during yogurt commercials, at stop signs, and when I run out of batteries.  

The only thing missing from this movie was John C. Reilly yelling “Go on boy, get out of here! I don’t want you anymore!” while releasing a dog into the woods (though he does the equivalent by smashing Vanellope’s race car…to save her life!). It’ll make me cry every time, but I’ll be mad about it, because it’s emotionally manipulative and a cheap trick. Especially when it’s tacked onto a big pink checklist of Hollywood storylines: loner must find himself, adorable child, betrayal, redemption, twist ending, power was inside you all along, etc, etc. It’s paint-by-numbers…with candy!

A few “internet friends” seemed surprised I expected something less formulaic from a children’s movie. UNFOLLOWED! Plenty of animated films are clever, heartfelt , funny and original. Disney certainly managed it before (The Incredibles, Toy Story, Ratatouille, Up).

Wreck-It Ralph has moments of brilliance and it’s not a bad movie  – Every scene with Jane Lynch’s Space Marine and Jack McBreyer’s Fix-it Felix is great, and John C. Reilly does his best with the material. But I went to the theater ready to fall in love with a GREAT movie about video games, and instead I was forced to watch a generic movie about name-brand candy.

[Side Note: In international markets, Wreck-It Ralph was renamed “Sugar Rush.” Japan loves both video games and candy, but clearly demands accuracy when it comes to differentiating between the two.]


This is a still from a James Bond movie and that is total bullshit

James Bond in…GARDENSTATE!

When you heard the new Bond movie was gonna be called “Skyfall,” I bet you were all “Ooh, I wonder what kind of crazy Russian plot that’s code for!” Apparently that would have been too awesome. Skyfall is instead the name of Bond’s childhood home where his parents died tragically, turning James Bond into some sort of sad-pants emo Spider-Man.

Of course, we only find out why he’s all emo sad-pants dead-parents Spider-man after several exhausting hours, during which James Bond stands by while an innocent person is shot in the head on TWO separate occasions. Presumably he was too busy trying to remember Dashboard Confessional lyrics to give a shit about preventing MURDER. Oh, and he also fucks off to act like drunk Superman in Bermuda because Moneypenny shot him off a bridge.

Superhero references are especially apt, because director Sam Mendes’ version of James Bond can’t decide if Bond is an Ubermensch who takes a bullet to the chest without flinching, adjusts his cufflinks and keeps chasing terrorists (as he does in the first scene), or a tortured soul who doesn’t care about terrorism because he’s forever haunted by that time he got shot in the chest.

Mendes made a movie that looks like a Bond film –  even the old Aston Martin complete with ejector seat and machine gun headlamps makes a cameo – without any of the classic Bond charm or excitement. Sean Connery, Roger More, Pierce Brosnan, and even mole-man Timothy Dalton made it seem FUN to be James Bond. Daniel Craig looks like banging exotic women and high speed chases are a chore, cutting into his valuable moping time.

The only person enjoying himself in Skyfall is Javier Bardem, chewing scenery like the set designer was Willy Wonka (perhaps on loan from Wreck-It Ralph?). Critics were enthralled with Bardem’s performance as flaming bisexual who nearly fellates Bond in his first appearance…I was too distracted by his shitty Party City wig and bleached eyebrows to notice. And I straight up burst out laughing when Bardem’s villain shows up in a clear plexiglass prison deep in the belly of MI6…Dude’s not MAGNETO, you fucking morons.

The lone surprise of the movie was discovering it was only two hours and 20 minutes long. Sitting in the theater, bored, wanting to go home to my bathroom, I would have sworn it was a solid three hours. If you’d told me it was SIX, I would have believed you.

Finally, while I obviously expect Citizen Kane level realism for my children’s cartoons, nobody expects a James Bond movie plot to make sense – but this one was REALLY dumb. Bardem plays a supergenius who can take control of an entire island with a click of a button…yet all he wants is to give James Bond a beej and creep on Judy Dench for not loving him and never putting his spy reports up on the refrigerator. Though I can certainly understand someone being obsessed with Dame Judy Dench. Hubba hubba.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m out of batteries.

Karla Pacheco hates everything you love. More of her despicable opinions can be found at and on twitter @THEKarlaPacheco