Life is really fucking hard sometimes.

It really gets us down when shit gets hard. I know lately I have had a really hard time trusting myself, trusting in the process, trusting that I know what I’m doing. That sometimes, we have to blindly push forward with our passions and know we’ll get there.

This…reminded me of that.

YouTube Preview Image

Be you, fearlessly.


LOFB - NoaMonday we discussed learning to say yes to getting help for ourselves, to open ourselves up to others more and accept the things we need.

Sometimes, people offer help we don’t really need. Or want. Or could have ever needed or wanted in a lifetime of lifetimes in all the multiverses in the entire known existence of everything that can and ever will be.

Yesterday, I went shopping at Wal-Mart because I have the money. I needed several things, but among them was a gallon of white vinegar. It was on sale, so, you know, boom.

Up at the cashier, she rang it up, and we were both surprised to learn that it was even cheaper than we thought it would be–$3.

Cashier: Oh man, this is only $3?! Girl, you’re gonna have a good bath tonight!
Me: I will, yeah…wait what?
Cashier: You’re gonna have a good bath tonight! You put this in your bathwater, right?
Me: No, no I’ve never heard of that before.
Cashier: Oh girl, you need to start, because that shit will tighten your pussy right up!

Those words were said to me by a total goddamn stranger. I do not even know her name, and she told me this.

I want to be clear, I mean, I’ve never really had any complaints about that thus far, and can’t imagine needing any help in that department. Why though, for the love of God, WHY?

Me: Oh, oh God. I…ok. I didn’t know that’s what that was for.
Cashier: Oh yeah, you put enough in your bathwater and that bitch will get so tight you can’t even get a tampon up in there.
The Total Stranger In Line Behind Me: Oh my God.

Again, I DON’T KNOW THESE PEOPLE. Nor did I ever ask for any assistance with this.

Me: Um, cool? I….WAIT! I use this to clean! I don’t need my pussy, I mean–ok. I use vinegar to clean because it’s antibacterial and it’s cheap I don’t use it in my bathwater.
Cashier: Yeah, but I bet you will tonight.

And that’s when I walked away from that interaction.

We learned a few lessons from this, I hope.

1) Vinegar probably doesn’t tighten your vagina, and also probably burns like a mother.
2) Sometimes we don’t need help from strangers
3) Sometimes things are better left…unsaid


LOFB - NoaIf there’s one thing I’m not good at, it’s asking for help.

(That’s it though. I’m really great at literally everything else I ever do, I just don’t ask for help.)

I have always been a woman of my own means. I’ll do it by my goddamn self and I’ll do it all. I’m terrible at relying on others–partially because I am very impatient and partially because I am an asshole. I know my ability to finish my own stuff on my own time and I get it done.

On one hand, it makes me a rather unforgiving project leader–shit gets done, both well and on time. On the other hand, I don’t trust anyone.

Not…not great.

It’s a good and a bad kind of selfish all in one. I take everything on because I believe in my abilities, but that doesn’t stop with work. I take on other’s personal problems because I can be a listening ear. I take on others work sometimes. I take on the dreams of others and do what I can to make them happen. Everything is mine to worry about.

Except for, you know, me.

I never really stop to think that I may be overloaded. I never stop to consider that others can and will help in the best ways (even better than me!) if I would just ask for that help. I never stop to think that I can’t do it all by myself.


This manifests in a lot of ways. Personally, I start to improvise poorly because Improv is about making others look good, not shouldering the show. I start to write poorly because I lose focus. I start to feel down and frazzled and at my wit’s end because planning out my week becomes an exercise in self-loathing.

I also am hateful to others when I won’t ask for help. I bully friends and family alike. I feel bad, so I make other people feel bad, which makes me feel even more useless. I don’t get anything done because I have too much to get done.

It’s a vicious cycle, you just go down and down and down until you’re at the bottom of a well thinking, “I wish someone would help me.”

Well, sure I do. And all I have to do is ask.

Believe it or not, people want to help you help yourself. They want to help lighten your load, help take on work. Life is back-and-forth like that; you take on work while someone needs a lighter load, they will do the same for you. When you are at the bottom of a well, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to stay there.

Sometimes, we have to say yes to courage. Sometimes we have to say yes to the idea that it’s not weakness to not be able to do it alone, it’s weakness not to admit we’re overwhelmed and need help.


Let’s dance and get shit done, Bitches.

YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image YouTube Preview Image



Alicia Badge LOFBSome of us feel that we don’t say yes enough. I feel that people say yes too often. There’s always been a thin line between what is considered a brilliant idea and what is considered a ‘what the fuck did you just do to that table’ moment. Saying yes can be a nerve wracking experience, but with just enough alcohol and Aerosmith playing in the background, all your dreams can come crumbling down.
The most regretful yes that can be made, while drunk, is a tattoo. Now don’t get me wrong, I love tattoos. They’re a great form of expression. It’s just that I’ve seen too many butterfly and infinity tattoos to think that it’s a good idea.

Below I’ve drawn a list of the worst tattoos one could get.

Let’s start with the stick and pokes, or as parents know it as, jail tattoos. This form of tattoo consist of a dirty clothes pin that your friend found under their bed, ink out of a broken pen, a dirty eraser from algebra class, and some questionable string. Basically your friend, who’s never taken an art class, stabs you repeatedly with a dirty needle he just used on himself the other day. Sounds super fun, right? Stick and pokes always look like preschool art. If it looks good, you’re doing it wrong.


Here you can see the tattoo that shows your old favorite band. You loved this band. They were your bread and butter, that is until you went to Cancun and slept with a girl who was in love with Devin Lima. If you haven’t seen Devin Lima’s face in a while, you should:


The “I got too high. Someone save me all of the pop tart crust. It’s my fave.” tattoo:


The “I was a 90′s kid, but didn’t realize Rosie would eventually stop hosting Slime Time.” tattoo:


The “I love dicks. No seriously, I love dicks so much. I gotta have my dick.” tattoo. Take note that you should never have a dick tattooed on your body. I don’t care what the situation is. You could be held captive and the only way out is to get the dick tattoo. Don’t do it! Sit in your corner and continue eating bread crumbs because it’s not worth having a dick tattooed on your body:


My favorite tattoo of them all. The “I’m very white, but I feel other cultures pain.” tattoo. Never get a Native American Chief tattooed on you if you have absolutely zero native blood in you. If you drink cheap beer and own a bicycle, that gives you even more reason to not have a Native American tattooed on you. I’m Native and I don’t even have a tattoo for it! Would you have the balls to get Malcolm X tattooed on your chest? No! Do everyone a favor and have some respect…and stop drinking cheap beer!