Podcast Episode 19: Who’s Your Daddy?

John Hancock and Joshua Patton join me to talk about having dads, being dads, and our favorite fictional fathers for this special Father’s Day episode!


Click here to listen on iTunes.

Intro 00:00
If you review me on iTunes, I’ll read your review on an episode. Promise! And don’t forget to check out our awesome/funny sponsors!

arcadelogo  Screen Shot 2013-04-20 at 6.32.35 PM

Pod Pourri 06:25
From fart clouds to fear of royal fuckups, John and Joshua tell me all about why being a dad is awesome/terrifying.

Facebook Says 44:21
Sometimes your dad does something sweet like send you peanut butter at college. And sometimes he scars you for life by shaving  off all his facial hair.

Games People Play 53:58
Dad themed trivia!

Outro 01:00:20
Check out www.joshuampatton.com and @joshuampatton! John Hancock will be your friend on facebook if you ask nicely.

And remember, you can get podcast extras on our Facebook page!

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Podcast Episode 5: Sibling Revelry

It’s the holidays, and that means spending LOTS of time with family. I decided it would make sense to share some childhood stories, so my guest this time around was my brother, Andrew. He also brought his dog Rusty, who didn’t have much to contribute to this topic. Probably because he’s an only child.

Click here if you prefer to listen on iTunes.

02:24 Pod Pourri
- Our childhood stories! Appendicitis, broken bones, and runaway cars! How did we survive?
- YOUR childhood stories! How did YOU guys survive stuffing each other into sleeping bags and beating the life out of each other until you passed out? Good grief.
- Twigg sibling musical tastes & harmonizing ESP

44:59 Games People Play
- Whoops, we remembered some more childhood stories. Let’s add them here!
- Taboo ESP! Celebrity! Party games are where it’s at.
- We get our competitiveness honestly…

58:45 Outro
- Y’all can find Andrew on Twitter @andrewtwigg or on Instagram @andrew_twigg!
- Thanks for joining me, bro. I love you.
- Leave your sibling stories in the comments!

F*ck the Halls, Just Deck the Doors

I love Christmastime. I’m a big ol’ sap for it. YES, THAT IS A TREE JOKE.

Even though I’m not as close-knit with my family as many others are, I tend to romanticize spending time with them over the holidays. Unfortunately, I’m not into decorating much. My laziness totally beats out my enthusiasm like some sort of rock-paper-scissors game where it’s enthusiasm instead of a rock and laziness instead of paper. Except there’s no third thing to balance them out, and it doesn’t totally make sense because wouldn’t you consider rocks to be lazier than paper? I mean, rocks just sit there. At least paper is useful.

So what solved my decorating dilemma? For the last few years, mom and dad have sent me a beautiful Christmas wreath to hang on my front door. I’ve decided this wreath is all the decoration I’ll ever need, and for a number of reasons.

5. It goes on the outside of the door, so there’s no mess inside the house! I don’t have to complain incessantly! At least not specifically about this!

4. It’s from mom and dad, so it makes me think of them.

3. These things last FOR. EVER.  Seriously, I think we finally got rid of it in like March last year. They’re like the Twinkies of the Christmas decoration world. This is doubly awesome because my aforementioned laziness prevents me from disposing of them promptly. Then again, who doesn’t love Christmas in July!

2. People who see my home only from the outside will notice the lovely wreath and assume my entire house is decorated perfectly and smells of sugar cookies and Christmas boners. Which is probably redundant because I imagine Christmas boners probably smell like sugar cookies.

1. In case you hadn’t noticed, my last name is Twigg. Technically, all I really need to do is keep myself decorated, which I do year ’round, y’all. YES, THAT IS ANOTHER TREE JOKE.

What are your favorite Christmas decorations?

Podcast Episode 3: Love Your Body Day (Fabulous Junk)

This episode’s guest proves that the third time’s the charm. Last year she introduced me to Love Your Body Day. Let’s talk about our hot bods!

Or listen on iTunes if you prefer!

Warm welcome to Robin Hitchcock of hitchdied.com! She’s a brilliant writer and an inspiration to me personally in MANY ways, including blogging and podcasting!

03:11 Pod Pourri
- It’s Love Your Body Day!
- Some listeners sent in thoughts about their own bodies. Others had theirs shared involuntarily…
- Robin and I talk about what makes us such hotties.

27:35 If I Were You
- Segment jingle REMIX!
- The Great Cupcake Comment Debacle of 2012
- Another awkward advice song!

48:14 Games People Play
- New segment! I heart games.
- Robin is the trivia QUEEN, but I manage to stump her.

54:47 Outro
- Visit Robin’s website (where her podcast lives!) and follow her on Twitter.
- You should vote, but only if you agree with my political views. Just kidding! (Sort of.)

Some folks submitted their thoughts for discussion on the podcast, but our pal Vicki didn’t make it on the air so I wanted to include her thoughts here. When asked what she loves about her body, she says:

1.) My boobs. They are convenient.  They are the right size for my body.  I can wear the crappiest sports bra from Target and it is fine, and I can go running without my boobs hurting. I can wear those wonderful built in bra shirts.  They seem symmetrical enough!  I never have to worry about them popping out.  I never have to use “boob tape.” I can sometimes get away without even wearing a bra.  I never feel like they are too small.  I love them.  They are the best!
2.) My lips.  By default they are a pretty red, no lipstick needed.  I didn’t even realize this was a thing until a friend pointed out how much she envied my lips.  Since then I have appreciated that I basically only have to wear chapstick for them to look nice.
3.) My back.  I always think it looks sexy in backless dresses.


Those are some PRIT-TEE awesome things to love about your body, Vicki. Rock on. What about the rest of you? Leave ‘em in the comments!

Day of Giving: The Case Against Charity?

I have a bone to pick with charity.

It all started with delightful Pittsburgh blogger Ginny Montanez over at That’s Church. That woman is a down-right do-gooder. I mean this in the most flattering way possible, of course. She supports a number of causes and urges her readers to do the same, offering hilariously awesome incentives when goals are reached. One project, Make Room for Kids, provides sick children with gaming systems, iPads, and other entertainment devices. Ginny has helped raise tens of thousands of dollars for the cause.

As I read her updates, I started second-guessing its purpose. I mean, I get it. I understand why it’s nice for hospitalized kids to have access to an XBOX or a handheld gaming system. But I couldn’t help but wonder about kids who are much worse off — kids who don’t have insurance or whose families are struggling to stay afloat to pay for treatment.

I chatted with friends about how ridiculous it is to be buying iPads for some children when others can’t even afford medication or visits to the doctor. I thought, “What a skewed perspective! These people are so fixated on solving a first world problem that they have now become one!”

But then… well… I slowly turned the lens on myself.

The Human Rights Campaign, an organization striving toward equal rights for all LGBT Americans, is a very personal cause to me. And if someone were to tell me there are people in the world who are worse off and I should be helping them first, well… I’d wonder just who the hell they think they are. I donate to causes that mean something to me! HOW DARE THEY ASSERT THEIR OPINIONS ON ME WHEN – 


That’s all Ginny is doing. She supports causes that speak to her. And so should you and everyone else in the world, because hell, we can’t solve even ONE of the world’s problems in a day, so we might as well tackle them together, all at once. I mean, when you get down to it, we’re all on the same team. We just can’t all play the same position at once.

In addition to national charities, I want to give back more locally. And let’s face it, Pittsburgh. Is. Awesome. It turns out there’s no better time to kick off that support than tomorrow, October 3, which is Pittsburgh’s Day of Giving. On this special day, Allegheny County matches up to $750,000 for eligible organizations.

I chose the Children’s Home of Pittsburgh. This might surprise those who know me well and have heard me talk AD NAUSEAM about how I don’t want kids. But the other side of that belief is that I feel very strongly about considering adoption over raising biological children. And I can at least throw some money at that problem, right?

I highly recommend that you find a cause that you believe in and use the Day of Giving as an opportunity to make your gift count even more. In the spirit of do-gooding, I promise not to judge your charity of choice.


Of Boys and Bands

Like a “normal” teenage girl, I was completely boy-crazed and would try to mold myself into whatever I thought my crush would like. Music was a huge factor in this because teenagers OBVIOUSLY have excellent taste in music, doi!

A licky boom boom down notwithstanding.

In my fickle teenage brain, it seemed easy to fake this. I’d buy an album by whatever artist my flavor of the month seemed to like, then I’d be in like Flynn, man! Why are adults so bad at this relationship stuff? It’s easy peasy!

Though this wasn’t the best long-term strategy for love, it was the perfect formula for rounding out my musical tastes and it continued well into college — and even my marriage.

Here are the greatest hits.

Wrapped Around Your Finger
Kris was my first boyfriend at a new school in eleventh grade. He was a swimmer (I had a thing for swimmers. WHO DIDN’T?), he played guitar, and he had two different colored eyes. Everyone thought this was the coolest shit ever, but it secretly freaked me out a little. He had a thing for Sting, so I got ahold of The Police’s Every Breath You Take: The ClassicsI’d like to say he gave me a copy, but that might just be my brain trying to remember myself as less pathetic. Regardless, I learned to really Fuck Tha dig The Police.

Crash Into Me
Scott was a swimmer, too — but he was older and wiser and in college and had a car and SWOOOON. Dave Matthews Band was in heavy rotation my senior year, and Scott was a fanboy before they hit it big. I became so obsessed with “Crash Into Me” that my then friend Ben gave me the Crash CD — which I later learned he had stolen for me in an effort to win my love. Ben eventually became my boyfriend and was somewhat less than thrilled to learn that another guy was the reason I liked the CD in the first place. Punishment of the Magi?

Hike up your skirt a little more, so I can hide a
CD in there and smuggle it out of this Sam Goody.

Wish You Were Here
Not unlike certain love affairs, some bands are just never meant to stick. Ben’s affection for Pink Floyd was something I couldn’t even pretend to match — but the song “Wish You Were Here” managed to sneak past my filters for good. It’s like the “we can still be friends” of songs.

The Distance
I was a sophomore in college and Steve was a freshman soccer player (I had a thing for soccer players. WHO DIDN’T?) with gorgeous, thick, curly brown hair. He and his pal Joe were musicians who both appreciated a good brass section. Enter CAKE, which quickly became one of my favorite bands of all time. Honorable mention: Violent Femmes.

Never My Love
In 2011, I married this guy named Joe who has a thing he calls The Dark Side Of the Moon Rule. With few exceptions, he does not listen to music that was released after 1973. The 90s are my favorite pop decade and he has never loathed anything more, so this was something for me to reconcile. Sure, I appreciate oldies — but Joe has helped me to truly indulge in 50s, 60s, and 70s pop. His very favorite artist is a woman named Laura Nyro whose tunes were typically made famous by other artists like Three Dog Night and Blood Sweat and Tears. The XM radio in the car sits on the 60s On 6 channel to appease him, and he has collected — no exaggeration here — tens of thousands of obscure songs with genres like “Brazilian Funk.”

Yet we somehow manage to meet in the middle at ELO — and that’s what I consider “Strange Magic.”

How Andrew Twigg is Ruining the Fabric of Society

What follows is just one person’s perspective (MINE, dummies!) on Pride and the fight for LGBT equality. All names and images were used with permission. Pittsburgh Pride is running June 1-10. Please visit their website for information and a schedule of events.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past, oh, ALL OF TIME EVER, you’ve heard anti-gay rhetoric. It’s been going on for so long now that we’ve almost forgotten the true motive behind it: to get you to fear gays. Why? Because then maybe you will hate them.

These nasty comments are always generalized, but that’s not how I hear them. Just in case you’re one of those rare individuals who, gosh, just don’t know any gay people, I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Andrew.

He is bright. Creative. Empathetic. Silly. Loving. A smartypants. A brilliant graphic designer and a pop-culture junkie. He sees the best in everyone — even before he proceeds to bring it out in them. And he just happens to be gay.

Here’s what anti-gay individuals believe — and want YOU to believe — about him.

Andrew Twigg’s marriage would threaten my marriage. It would threaten all marriages. It would threaten the traditional values of this country. If Andrew Twigg can get married, then what? DOGS can too?

Oh that Andrew Twigg, always hatching a plan against the breeders!

But it’s not just about my brother. This talk affects my friends, coworkers, and dozens of people you know personally, too. If someone said these things to your loved ones’ faces, how do you think they’d feel? Probably not how you feel when you hear it on TV.

Here are some more gems, featuring my dear friend Dave.

Gimme a break! The only thing he’d be serving in the military is brownies.

… by acting as Best Man at his brother’s wedding. What a monster!

Now scratch that, reverse it. Forget gay or straight. Saying these things to ANY human being is terrible and hateful. Which is, uh, exactly the point I’m trying to make. What if these things were said about you?

To be fair, I bet rapists and murderers enforce a pretty strict curfew.

I’m not asking you to donate your money or even your time. I’m not asking you to walk around with rainbows all over your person (but seriously, would a pop of color kill you, Morticia?). I’m just asking you to think. Just hear these awful statements for what they are — HATE — and consider the real live individuals on the receiving end.

What are the worst remarks you’ve heard, whether from a politician or a regular Joe? Leave ‘em in the comments — but perhaps phrase them to be about YOU instead.


The Bloggess uses Shit I Did When I Wasn’t Here for her weekly wrap-up. That’s Church uses Random n’at (on which a photo from my wedding was recently featured, by the way) to include otherwise unrelated topics in the same post. Jive Turkey created a Cheers and Jeers feature to summarize her life in list form. And this bitch LOVES lists.

This is the first time I’ve had the need for a similar gimmick. I want to post an update, but none of my anecdotal or fashion posts are ready for the world. So I’d like to introduce you to my new feature:

I know. I’m sorry. PLEASE DON’T GO. The power of puns compels me.

- One of my music projects, Camelia Road, has its first “big” gig on April 26. We have only ever played 2-3 song sets in the past (for variety shows). This gig requires two 45-minute sets, and while we’re both nervous, we also couldn’t be more excited. We are the entertainment (read: background noise) during cocktails and dessert for Women In Film & Media’s Opal Awards. Barbara Feldon (Agent 99!) is the guest speaker, and the wife of the drummer from Rusted Root is supposed to be there, so at this point I’m certain we’ll be totally famous soon and you’ll be able to purchase our debut album with bonus “Behind the Music” DVD sometime this summer. Probably?

- Have you visited the recently launched Act Classy yet? It’s worth it for the Mike deGrasse Tyson meme alone.

-  The NEXT Frankly Scarlett Comedy Hour occurs the Saturday following the Camelia Road gig, April 28, because I have a full time day job AND enough masochistic tendencies to agree to two major commitments within 48 hours of each other. But don’t worry, my only responsibility for Frankly Scarlett is the music and DEAR LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE.

- Srsly, WUT.

- So, 90s Night happened. It was a delightful mix of music, dancing, and people that outweighed the fact that Pittsburgh is still too stupid/stubborn/ass-backwards to completely ban smoking in bars. It wasn’t without weirdness, though. We had formed a circle for dancing and tossed our purses/coats into a pile in the middle of the floor when suddenly, a random dude doing the worm worked his way into the circle, wormed OVER our shrine of belongings, and kept on wormin’ out the other side. Too bad, because I had just taken that machete out of my bag earlier in the day.

- Fallingwater. Last Friday. With two fair ladies. Eff yeah.

So, what have you been up to?

How To Be Cool On A First Date With Your Future Husband

I met my husband on the internet. We had a few acquaintances in common, but not nearly enough to keep him from murdering me when we first met if he really wanted to.

That photo is so unrealistic!
He definitely would’ve just strangled me instead.

By the time we had our “official” first date (read: we finally spent money to see each other!), the butterflies were hovering closer to an 8 than a 10. But this was still a very new boy with some very real potential to be THE ONE, so I was dressing to impress. I didn’t wear crazy heels that night — instead I slipped on some fuchsia patent leather one-inchers.

We decided on dinner & a movie because we are such traditional motherf*ckers.

Before we go any further, you should know that my left ankle is weak from a now 15-year-old injury that may or may not have occurred while pretending to play soccer when in actuality I was staring at cute boys who… you know, in retrospect? I’m pretty sure they were actually playing soccer.

So, when Joe opened the doors to the theater for me, POP! — my ankle gave out and this b*tch went down in what you could pretty much call the opposite of a blaze of glory. It was more like… a fizzle. A fizzle of shame.

For good measure, I banged up my knee on the way down — but my face was spared and THAT’S WHAT REALLY MATTERS so we continued on to the movie.

Joe later confessed that he felt bad he couldn’t catch me — because he was busy holding the door for me LIKE A G*DDAMN F*CKING GENTLEMAN. I may have paraphrased that.

Bodily injuries and embarrassment be damned, our date was still better (and FAR more memorable) than the movie we saw that night.

STEAMY TURD THIS MOVIE IS” rrrrrrriiiiiight?


Hey, Thanks

It’s the one day a year when people are grateful for things! Just kidding, that’s some bullsh*t that cynical people say on Facebook. Gratitude is just a little more prevalent on Thanksgiving, that’s all. Save your humbugging for Christmas!

Would you like to have a peek into my cornucopia of gratitude?

I’m thankful for spoons. Seriously, dudes and dudettes. How could we eat delicious cereal without them? Think about it.

I’m thankful for smartphones. People b*tch and moan about how things were so much simpler before them. But you know what? Things were also a hell of a lot less convenient. I recently used mine to know that the gate of my flight home from NYC had changed, and to give my cab driver directions to LaGuardia Airport. That is not a joke.

I’m thankful for two seemingly healthy parents. Not everyone my age has this anymore. I don’t visit them very often. I take them for granted. I shouldn’t.

I’m thankful for the beautiful lady friends I have had over the last few years, no matter where they are now — NY, Chicago, Pittsburgh. Dudes have always been easier for me to befriend, but Ams, Nang, Lauren, Jody, Abby, Liz, Ashley… you are all incredible chicks who make me laugh and think and stay up too late and persevere… with you, I’m myself. I’m happy.

I’m thankful for my brother because he’s the best. If you know him, you know this. And if you don’t know him, I’m telling you now. He’s the best.

I’m thankful for my husband, Joe. I still believe he might be a cyborg programmed specifically to tolerate my special brand of bullsh*t. This man is unshakeable, even in the midst of an Addi earthquake.

Stereotypes are fun!
Reinforcing them is not!

But it’s more than his ability to endure my moodiness. He has been so… forgiving. Not like in a religious kinda way. More like in your favorite pair of jeans kinda way. He just… fits me.

I could go on and on and on, but I digress. And for that, you should be grateful. What else are you thankful for?