Sherrye Pomeroy

The Site That Brought You So Much Joy, Left You Wallowing In Pain

Sherrye

My etsy regretsy shop is on again

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Hey my people. I know time is short and you have a cake in the oven blah blah blah but I opened my Etsy shop again and gonna make some more hand-cut (analog!) collages for download.

Oh the delicious irony, eh? I make hand-cut collages (no AI) and cut my fingers with X-acto blades while sniffing glue I use to attach all the WTF to the canvas or a piece of card stock, and THEN I take a stunning photo of it using a digital camera and sell the visual as a digital download on Etsy for buyers to print out at home using their computer-y printers. You see the problem, as one of my old professors used to say during lectures in a really dull class, like, every minute.

So. Go take a look at my little Etsy shop where you will see the problem but it will be called “art.” And FFS buy something ($10, but Etsy takes a cut so I get less than that), and then say something polite in a review, just like I had to when I was a wee chile and mom made this crockpot concoction of chicken thighs drenched in a white coconut “sauce” that was like Elmer’s tropical glue. It was for big dinner party with Important People. They all made polite remarks. SO you can too.

Mom never made the stuff again, but I’ll try find the recipe for you. Or I will “reimagine” it.

Some call “reimagining” a traumatic experience “PTSD.” I dunno.



coming on and the


Look all You Little Shits

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So I’m not an uber-uber geek, by any means, but I know enough to be able to see what’s slamming this site and I just looked and it’s NO ONE FROM THE ENTIRE US of A, it’s ALL (and I mean ALL) asshats and “things” from foreign countries. The shit I use to see all of it is pretty damned accurate, and these “things” are sometimes labeled (MIS-labeled) “human” instead of “bot.”

Long story short, I have 250+ countries blocked because, well, I write in English (my version of it, anyway) and I seriously fucking doubt that someone in a country I’ve barely heard of and cannot even pronounce is READING English on MY stupid little website here.

So this crap ain’t “human,” and that means it’s a fuckery. Bot, bad thing, probing crap, script kiddie asshats, renegade foreign bullshit scrapers and hAx0rz, what-have-you.

That’s it for now. Now back to you in:

  • Santa Maria do Pará, Brazil
  • Đồng Nai Province, Vietnam
  • Amsterdam
  • Kathmandu, Nepal
  • Moscow
  • Burundi
  • Phnom Penh, Cambodia
  • China
  • India
  • Jakarta
  • Bulgaria
  • Recife, Brazil
  • San Pedro Sula, Honduras
  • Lagos, Nigeria
  • Curitaba, Brazil
  • Gravataí, Brazil
  • Polokwane, South Africa

And those were just in the last hour. Not a single US-based URL. All this CRAP.

Oh Yes I WENT THERE

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Unpopular Opinion Alert

Should you be here and read this, and have some “bad reaction,” hey man, it’s on you.

So we all saw the chick protestor in L.A. who was unlawfully impeding a public roadway and refused to move aside and allow another citizen, who was behaving lawfully in proceeding along the thoroughfare on a green light to achieve the lawful goal of arriving at whatever destination he/she chose, safely, and possibly for critically important reasons the casual observer might never even consider, although driving without being unlawfully impeded does not “require” that one have an important “mission.” Just sayin’.

On social media, the video went wild and everyone had their little opinions. Horrifying to watch (Darwin Award nominee stuff always is), but . . . the fact is, the protestor chick was the unlawful actor in the scenario. The guilty party. The criminal.

Go look it all up for yourself and you’ll see that CA has statutes (as do most states) against “false imprisonment.” There are “elements” to the cause of action and all were clearly met, so the driver SHOULD be able to prevail in an action against the blockading protestor who likely terrified the driver with her aggressive actions, and impeded, etc. There are probably a bunch of other illegalities in her actions (not going into it here).

But I mean, the chick has no leg to stand on, was my first thought, as to the false imprisonment claim.

“Oh shit, well, that came out wrong,” was my second thought.

My third thought (my thoughts usually don’t line up neatly at all, but for some reason this time they at least tried), was, “Let me run this by a few trusted friends, as I suspect saying this would upthet a few of the ignorati, as I call them. I also thought, “I might even get in twubble on X” (sort of a fourth thought). Then I remembered I have a website that I pay for.

Anyway, all the trusted friends (all of whom are way smarter than I am in their various areas of expertise) said “LOL YES true, and you should be able to say that aloud.” So. I am. But here, on my own web space, which I pay for.

Shit. I thought this post would go a lot better than it has. Sadly, no. That’s fine. It’s not mandatory that anyone ever read any crap I write, nor am I required to explain myself to whomever might disagree with my writings or style or anything else about me.

My next post may be about a couple of dead house flies. Pretty graphic.

You see the kind of shit show we’re running here.

Take Care of Your Feet, Fools

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Every once in a while I go get a pedicure because my “feet” are . . . hooves, due to a childhood spent going barefoot on lava. This was during the Pleistocene Era. No, not molten lava — that would have been painfully untenable, duh — but close enough.

The pedicure places are all super fanc-eh now, with lots of lotions and potions even for the “Basic pedicure.”

The presentation is everything. The scrub sponges at the back are for decoration only. The cucumber slices and oranges were placed on the fronts of my legs for a minute. They removed “toxins” (duh) and stuff, or so I was told, angrily, because no one ever asks and of course I was THAT asshole.

The high-end 8-hour pedicures, they’ll just give you a whole new pair of feet (surgically). But the lower level, they bring out various food-type items and some pretty weird automotive-use shit.

Oh. And when you first sit down in the massage chair, they hand you a leather-bound Pedicure MENU. The selections therein range from “Basic Pedicure,” which they describe (intentionally) so as make you feel like a cheapskate lowlife for even considering. This is the one I chose.

BASIC PEDICURE: “This is our very cheapest option, for those in a ‘hurry’ and who really DGAF about their ‘feet’ – $35. You disgust us, but you just do YOU.”

The “basic” pedicure’s a 10-minute soak in scalding water, with the technician making faces at you. They’ll always ask if the water temp is ok.

Me: (screaming) “It’s scalding hot! I think I just lost a toe in the basin!” Tech lady made it hotter.

Tech Lady: “Toe unnecessary, no discount for 9 toes, you cheap lady.”

Me: “I feel pampered.”

She tossed in a dollop of Dawn dishwashing liquid while I tried to figure out how to make the “massage chair” stop pounding my spine (“knocking?”). I chose “fap” at first (lost a filling in a tooth), then settled on “knead.” I’ve just never been good at deciphering icons.

Obviously the BASIC pedicure is not what they want you to order. So I recommend you consider upgrading a few notches, because public shaming works.

As you examine the upgrades on the menu, the names and descriptions become more WITAF as the prices increase. Someday, perhaps for a special occasion, like my pending cremation, I do want to try the “Blissful Ocean Breezes Pedicure.” From the menu:

BLISSFUL OCEAN BREEZES PEDICURE

Treat yourself to our most popular upgrade!

Blissful Ocean Breezes includes everything in our BASIC, PLUS, and EXTORTION pedicures, but we’ll ALSO scrub ONE of your legs with road salt, applied using a whole octopus from HEB. – $135.”

There is only one more (highest) level pedicure you can get. Of course I mean The Works pedicure.

The WORKS PEDICURE ($450, 8 hours) includes: “Everything our Blissful Ocean Breeze and Guava-Papaya 10-40 Oil Harmony Chakra-Reset Pedicure has, PLUS: A vigorous ham steak exfoliation rub on BOTH legs, to soothe skin and restore moisture, perfect for weddings and other special occasions. Flower petals made of tissue paper, that serve no purpose whatsoever (I asked) are tossed into the basin with the scalding hot water, to start. The tissue disintegrates instantly and clogs the drain making a lovely purplish soaking water. Calluses are removed with a Saws-All for the smoothest feet ever.”

Note: Regardless of which level you choose, there is NO extra charge for some things. Your technician will 1) make sniggering comments about your toe corn and 2) laugh out loud at your weird big toe (or your remaining weird little toe, if you prefer, after all, it’s YOUR special day). The comments are spoken loudly in foreign languages to other employees who pass by periodically.

It’s a Start

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I never said this would be worth reading, did I? No.

The site is kind of a hot mess. In keeping with my extraordinary skills at hot messiness. I just wanted to “post” something to see if anything worked.

Maybe I will get “spammed.” That would be “engagement.” I’m not sure I’ve got anything under the hood here set up yet, but I’m pretty sure I’ve blocked 249 countries, so, there’s that.

I have a friend in Mexico who is not in a Mexican prison, so I may have to re-think my strategy there. Later.

I’m smoking a cigar. As I am wont to do. It’s a business most foul and delightful. You’re eating a Pop-Tart. I don’t judge YOU for that, do I?

This was fun. Let’s meet again here every year and do this all over again.

Filed Under: Gah

No One Reads Blogs Anymore So What A Perfect Place to Hide Out

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I am not even going to leave my spider hole. I’ll just sit right here and write stupid shit and say dumb things for my own amusement. Someday, perhaps, one “reader” will accidentally come along and find this and immediately hit the back button and clear their browser cache. They’ll call their Mom (which they should have, already, anyway) and tell their Mom they love her. Their Mom will ask if everything’s ok, because it’s so weird to suddenly get a call.

“No, everything’s good, Mom. I just felt I should call, while I still can. Ya know?”

“Last time you called you said you saw something on the internet that disturbed you.”

“No, I’m fine, Mom. Just need to walk it off. This is not a duress code.”

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