Under The Wagon

I have a brand spankin’ new article is up at The National Lampoon.

I swear, I can practically smell the sweaty stench of internet success just around the corner. Any day now I’ll be snorting cybercoke off jpgs of hookers, I just know it!

Anyway, check it out HERE. It’s another filthy piece of work, all about blow jobs.

My mom’s gonna be so proud.

———

In other news, provided I don’t keep jetting off to LA to make sweet, sweet love to The Delicious One…Under The Wagon will now be updated every Friday, if not more often. Honest!

You have the word of a lazy, unreliable alcoholic. Really, what could possibly be more trustworthy than that?

Tags: Published Works // Comments Off

I just got back from a long weekend in LA, and I think I broke my liver.

Now I’m not exactly sure what my liver is supposed to do. I know it does something with booze, and considering how much booze I do…I assume it has its hands full. If it has hands. Do livers have hands? Like I said, I’m a little fuzzy on the actual biology.

Anyway, this morning I had evidence that my poor liver has in fact escaped my body, and is currently hitchhiking down a lonely highway, a tiny hobo bindle over its little shoulder.

Backing up a little:

Three days in LA. Much delicious booze consumed with a delicious companion. 13 hours in transit back to Chicago. Several gin and tonics consumed in transit, because transit SUCKS. A few hours sleep before I head to my weekly open mic gig at The Elbo Room. It’s a slow night, and I’m tired. I feel the need to “perk up” a little early, and begin drinking at 9pm, instead of 10:30 (my usual starting time). A couple of Hefe-Wiesen beers. Not doing too shabby. I decide to switch to Long Island Ice Teas, because they are tasty and good. Also because I’m pretty sure I have a death wish.

Long Island Ice Tea
One oz. each:
vodka
tequila
rum
gin
triple sec

Add a little sweet and sour mix, shake well, pour into a glass, then add a splash of cola and a twist of lemon. 

If you lined up all that liquor in individual shots, there’s now way in HELL I could down them all. At least not in an upright position. But mix them all up…

I drank 3 of the things.

Somehow I make my way home, call my delicious companion in LA to tell him how much I love him (at least I think I told him that), and then the inevitable collapse into a little, fully-clothed puddle.

And this morning I had the most disturbing bowel movement of my life.

Seriously. It’s disgusting, I know, but…wow. Just, WOW. Shit was literally falling out of me. I can’t figure out how a stomach full of nothing but ramen noodles and candy can produce what was came out of me. And HOW it came out of me. Frightening, really.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with my liver. I think livers have those powers, and the wretched results of this morning are the effects of my liver just throwing up its wee liver hands (I’m still convinced livers have hands) and going “Fuck you, Karla. Fuck you all to hell.”

So anyone know where I can get a new liver? Because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be drinking without one. And right now, I’m totally drinking.

I’m so not looking forward to my next trip to the bathroom.

Tags: Early Wagon Archive: Sex, Drunk, & Rock n' Roll // Comments Off

Wednesday was the WNEP Theater Bowl-A-Thon, and while last year I bowled a record-breaking low of 126 over three games (36 Gutterballs!), this year I have to say…I fucking ROCKED. Rolled 200, with a couple of strikes, and a mere handful of tankers. This vast improvement was thanks to my new strategy of abandoning all pride and any hope of looking like a “real bowler.”

Every single shot…Granny style. There was no dainty ballerina-trot to the end of the lane, co-ordinated with a perfectly executed single handed launch of the ball. No. Every goddamn time, I walked up to that little line of arrows carved in the hardwood, hunched over, gripped the ball firmly with both hands (I didn’t need the little finger holes this year) and pitched it between my legs.

3 strikes, a couple of spares, and a total score of 200.

I’m pretty goddamn proud.

—————————

I was also pretty goddamn drunk.

The goal of the Bowl-a-Thon is for the participants to secure “pledges-per-pin.” Say someone donated 10 cents a pin to me. After my score of 200, they would have owed WNEP $20. Which, wouldn’t have been too shabby, if I’d had any confidence in my bowling ability. But since I was so god-awful last year, I didn’t even TRY to get per-pin pledges this year. I went with what I KNOW I’m good at.

I asked for per-BEER pledges.

4:30pm
Beers 1-2 are consumed in my house. I figured as long as I was drinking them on the same DAY as the Bowl-a-Thon, they count.

6:00pm
Beers 3-5 were enjoyed at a quaint German pub, with my buddy Tucker (also a WNEP company member) before we headed over to the bowling alley. Beers 3-5 were accompanied by much bitching about jobs and fathers.

7:45 pm
I eat 2 eggrolls on the walk over to Lincoln Square Lanes. I have not eaten anything else all day.

8:00pm
Bowl-A-Thon Commences. Beer 6 purchased.

After that…I kind of lost track of time. Beer 8 was free, I do remember that (God bless bartenders), and sometime around beer 9-10 I started calling my boyfriend after every shot “Becaush I’m sucsh a goooood bowlerrrrrrIloveyouuuuuOopsIshmyturnnowIgottagoIlovvvvveyou!”

This repeated after pretty much every shot. Yeah, I hate me too.

Midnight
Another successful WNEP Bowl-A-Thon was but a happy memory, as every other bowler in the company had gone home. The bowling alley was deserted, except for two of my compatriots as we discuss…I don’t know, philosophy or some shit, and I finish:

Beer 15.

—————–

For those thinking “15 beers over several hours…That’s not so bad. I’ve drank more than that!” well bully for you. I’m 4′10, female, and I hadn’t eaten anything ALL DAY except two egg rolls. I was completely shellacked.

But I did make a couple hundred bucks for a good cause, and I made about 300 double entendres involving “balls”, so all in all, good times.

Now I just need to find reasons for people to sponsor my drinking all the time.

I’m having a beer right now…Do I hear one dollar? One dollar?

Anybody?

Tags: Early Wagon Archive: Sex, Drunk, & Rock n' Roll // Comments Off

I’m a midget. Serious. At 4’10 I technically qualify for membership in “Little People of America.” I’d be their queen, but I’m still a midget. That being said, I normally boof guys well over 6 foot tall. Because let’s face it, short guys have issues. And tall guys make me feel “extra dainty.” But since there are short guys who are nailing tall chicks (good for you, Tiny!) and there are plenty of giants who are attracted to wee women, (bless your enormous hearts)…Let’s look at ways to overcome height disparities in the sack.

These are all positions that rock even if you’re not a circus freak couple, too!

Note: The following requires one (1) penis and one (1) vagina. Any other variations and you’re on your own…for now.
——————————–

Position 1
Geometry you can use: 90 Degree Angles, they really ARE good for something!

So you’re bored with “Girl on Top, AKA “Cowgirl” or the slightly more exotic “Reverse Cowgirl, AKA “Girl on Top but Looking at His Feet.“ However, you don’t want to get out of bed, either. Not a problem.

(I’m not gonna go into foreplay and shit, here. I’m taking it as a given that He is hard and She is wet. I can’t do everything, people.)

Boy lays on his side facing Girl. Girl is on her back at a 90 degree angle (perpendicular) to him. Scooch up so Tab A (your ding dong) meets Slot B (your hoo hoo). Insert. There are two options at this point. One: Girl throws both her legs over his hips and presses her thighs together to increase tightness and friction as Boy penetrates. This puts her feet against his buttocks, allowing her to increase or maintain pressure and speed. Or: “Scissor” the legs…Her leg nearest his feet goes between his legs, her other leg goes over the top. This way you can both regulate the rhythm by grabbing onto each other’s thighs or waist. Either way includes plenty of access for ball, clit and nipple manipulation. Start thrusting, and repeat until orgasm or bored.

This position also works well if you’re fat or pregnant, but if so, I don’t want to think about you having sex.

—————————————
Position 2
As seen in the movies: Wallbanger’s Ball

It seems like every erotic film or slash fiction (Oh, when will Merry and Frodo be together?) involves at least one really hot scene where someone gets the bejesus fucked out of them against a wall. I’ll be honest. I have a really hard time making that work, as when I’m pressed tight to the object of my desire, his dick is in my belly button. And despite what some of my dimmer partners seem to believe, THAT’S NOT WHERE IT GOES.

So here’s the straight facts on wall sex for the vertically challenged:

* Guy needs to be strong enough to lift Girl to where the dink and the chink can meet,
Or
* She needs to be standing on something. (Since wall sex is ideally in some darkly lit but still public place, door steps, curbs, or sleeping hobos work fine.) An alternative? Staircases. Girl can prop a leg up on a higher step, which provides access and support, and takes some of the “Christ I can’t hold her up much longer” burden off of the guy.

*If you’re a short guy humping a tall girl…Hahahahaha! I’m sorry dude, but it’s a funny mental image. I mean, the two of you doing it standing up? Fucking hilarious. Either find shorter girls or a very strong woman who can hold YOU up. Heh. Even then, she’s gonna look like she’s screwing a venquilitrist’s dummy. No offense, man. I’m just sayin’.

Anyway…Onward and upward.

When the moment arrives, you need to be very ready to go. I’ll break my previous rule and say that foreplay is fucking important right now. There’s nothing more frustrating than finally getting all the naughty bits matched up, only to fumble around trying to shove a semi-flaccid penis into an arid vagina. Hopefully you have fingers and tongues (if not, I‘m very sorry), use them FIRST. Timing is important here. Make her a damn slip n’ slide and him a granite rod o’ goodness and then do a quick shift to the vertical happy dance.

After you’re lubed or hard, respectively, it’s time for the fast lift. Guys, you might need to put your arms, not just your hands, under her ass for a kind of a “basket carry“. Once she’s up high enough, move them down a bit so your wrists and hands are under her upper thighs, and get her in the proper position. Girls, help the feller out…Arms around his neck, pushing down on the shoulders, (use the flat of your forearm, NOT the elbow!) and press yourself back HARD against the wall. Hopefully one of you will have the balance and strength to reach down and get the insertion thing going by at this point. After that…Thrust and repeat until you orgasm, fall down, or the night-shift dishwasher catches you by the dumpster during his smoke break.

It will take practice. Good luck to ya’.

———————————

Position 3
Congress of the Crouching Wombat: The Chair Thingy

It’s not all that kinky or outrageous (unless you‘re using a rocking chair, which sounds a lot more fun than it is), but I’m a big fan of “The Chair Thing.” Guy sits on a side less, straight backed chair or stool , Girl faces Guy and straddles him. Tab A, Slot B, insertion, etc. Girl wraps legs around the legs of the chair for traction and grinds away. This position gets the base of the wee-wee right against the thing-that-rhymes-with-Delores and if Boy’s been good this week, Girl can reach behind and under herself for a little testicle tickling action. Good times.

This isn’t a position that works well if he’s got a small penis or if either of you have beer bellies, but once again, if so…I don’t want to think about you having sex. Ideally you should try this if He is a strapping young buck with rock-hard abs and taut buttocks and She’s a willowy gymnast type with a nice rack. Or maybe an Asian chick.

Further ideally, you should videotape it and send it to me.

You know, for my research.

Tags: The Karla Guides // Comments Off

Overheard at the Neil Gaiman signing during “San Andreas Comic-Con ‘05” (Theme: “We love comics to a fault!”)

*******
“Oh my god, oh my god…I love you. I just, you don‘t know how much I love you. Oh god. I promised I wouldn‘t cry. My mascara is totally running, isn‘t it? God, I‘m such an idiot. I just, you know, love you! Ack! My hands are totally shaking!”

NG: “Thanks!”

“OH MY GOD HE SHOOK MY HAND!”

*******
“So, I made all these illustrations based on your stories, and I posted them on the message board and “Adaline the Reaver” said they were totally awesome, so should I email them to you, or do you want me to send them to your publisher? I can totally send them to your publisher, if you want to use them, and stuff.”

NG: “Well, we can’t really…”

“I even got a tattoo of them…See? It’s just ballpoint pen. But when I turn 18 I’m TOTALLY getting it for real. For now I just draw them on everyday.”

*******
“At first I was really excited about Henry Selick directing the adaptation. What with The Nightmare Before Christmas, and all, I felt he would best be able to capture the creepy tones and dark style of the book. However, he said in an interview “It’s more of a Hansel and Gretel seduction into a place that appears to be colorful and wonderful, but turns out to be something more challenging .” “Colorful and wonderful”!? “Challanging”!? Is he mad?! At this point it’s all I can do to cross my fingers and hope for the best.”

NG: “….I, guess…yeah. That’s what we’re all doing, really.

*******
NG: “So how would you like this made out?“

“Could you make it out to Firespirit? No, wait, Adamintia. Or, how about Adamintia Moondancer? Oh shit, no, Tracy uses “Moondancer on her blog…Ravenwing? Yeah, make it out to Ravenwing.

NG: “Ravenwing?”

“Yeah. Ravenwing. Firespirit.

*******
“You said you were gonna write more stories about Shadow?”

NG: “Yes, in fact I’m working on some new…”

“I totally think they should be graphic novels, because I really want to see what he looks like.”

NG: “Well, I like to leave that up to the imagina-”

“I think he looks like Hellboy. You know, human, but you know, Hellboy-esque.”

NG: “I suppose you could…”

“Totally a bad-ass. Like Hellboy.”

*******
“So I picked up “Sandman: Book of Dreams” because its cover was more interesting than like all the crap novels which are like 95% of the library and I had no idea it was a comic and my mom always told me that girls didn’t read comics but I read this book and something was like “tap tap tap” in the back of my mind and I couldn’t place it but it was so familiar Then I realized–”

NG: “I’m sorry but there are a lot of people in line, here.”

“If you need me, me and Neil’ll be hanging out with the Dream King..“ It was a line from a Tori Amos song and I mean I a sit-up-in-bed-flip-to-the-front-cover-lightbulb-goes-off kinda moment ‘cause I had always loved that line, even when I didn’t know what it meant so I checked out as many books as I could find in my libraries and I’m currently reading “Neverwhere” and everyone wants to borrow them but I don’t lend them out…”

*******
“Hi, I’m DerangedElegance, you know, on the forum? This is Xanthacid.”

“I would like to see Death fall in love with a mortal. It would be ironic, I think, if Dream found out. Kind of like, “I’ve been the one to fall for mortals before, but you?” Cause Death seems to be so perfect most of the time.”
.
“Oh that’s awesome! I’m so gonna write this! I need to write a story about Death. You know, I think I’ll have her fall for a girl, you know. Just because.

*******
“It is late and I am sick. I take handful of sand and watch the grains fall to the toilet bowl, each grain means a dream less fulfilled …Oh dream master take away these nightmares and replace them with nothingness”

NG: “Daemonica,” is it?”

“Daemonica. With an “E.”

NG: “Right. Nice cape, Daemonica”

“With an…”

NG: “E. Yes, yes, with a fucking “E.”

*******

“Gaiman? More like GAYMAN! Heh. God, just look at all these ‘tards. Anyway, do you know where the Spiderman guys are?”

Tags: Filthy Lies & Fiction // Comments Off

My being a total retard for Under The Wagon a year ago resulted in an me having an article in The National Lampoon.

This the the coolest shit ever!

Bring on the coke and hookers!

So I’m famous now, right?

Fucking’ A.

Tags: Published Works // Comments Off