Elspeth Bakerman

I got yelled at last year for not mentioning it, so yes, my first 29th birthday is this week--the 13th, to be specific. Do with that information what you will! But now you know that if I'm covered with glitter at my party this week, it's not just leftover from Pride. Sadly, six more years until my birthday is a Friday the 13th and shit gets real weird. Start bracing yourself now.

Yes, I'm a Gemini born to a gay couple during Pride Month. Now you know why I'm Like This.

Orgy friends, do not despair, for preparations continue apace.

If people could stop telling other people how to celebrate holidays, or even that they have to celebrate a holiday at all, that would be awesome. I don't have a mom, and that's okay. Repeated for those in the back: I DON'T HAVE A MOM, AND THAT'S OKAY. Yes, obviously someone got pregnant, carried me for approximately nine months, and gave birth to me. I know who that woman is, she even contributed half my genetic material. But that woman is not my mother, and that's okay. She conceived and carried me, knowing she was not going to be my mother. In fact, she conceived and carried me for the express purpose of not being my mother. I am not missing anything because she's never been in my life. I do not need to celebrate Mother's Day because of her.

Someone else could be in my exact same position, and decide that the woman in that position IS their mother, and should be celebrated in some way for Mother's Day. That's fine! Do your thing! But I don't have a mother, I have two fathers. I have always had two fathers, even if the law didn't recognize that for all of my childhood and most of my adulthood so far, too. How much you wanna bet the same people who feel bad for me because I never had a mother are the same ones who made my family as legally precarious as possible for all those years?

Just because someone made it possible for you to exist, doesn't make them a parent. And just because someone is a parent, doesn't mean they deserve to be celebrated. Don't let anyone tell you that you have to buy into bullshit notions of what certain things mean if those definitions aren't true for you.

And no, I don't buy flowers or do anything for my dads on Mother's Day. I know some people do, but that just doesn't work for me. To me it implies that they're a replacement for a mother, that they did something only a mother could do and therefore have to be celebrated on a day for mothers. Nope. They're fathers, and they are the only parents I've ever needed. So when Father's Day rolls around, LET THE CELEBRATING HAPPEN. (That Father's Day falls during Pride Month basically just makes it a huge-ass party for us. Though admittedly their parties, and their Pride, are a lot tamer than mine. *cough*)

Update: I got dumped so I have even more free time for fucking. Hit me up.

Okay, so, who do you think is the hottest character in the Marvel movies? Which of the many, many superheroes, sidekicks, love interests, and villains could totally get it? And who absolutely couldn't? Please provide as much detail as possible because my brain needs a certain amount of salacious input every day to keep functioning.

This post has been brought to you by a nerd who shall remain nameless to protect his identity. 😘

Previously, she was Eleanor Shellstrop from the show The Good Place. Eleanor died, but that was really just the beginning. Even she couldn't really tell you everything that happened (probably because she kept getting rebooted, all her memories of the time after her death erased), but there are some things she does know. There's a Good Place, and a Bad Place. The first time she died, she went to the Bad Place, which was disguised as the Good Place as a new way to torture humans. There's a Judge, who she's met, and who gave her a second chance on Earth. There's a points system to determine who goes to which Place, and it's become severely screwed up. And then there's Team Cockroach, the Soul Squad: three fellow humans (Chidi, Jason, and Tahani), an immortal demon named Michael, and Janet, a not-robot who knows literally everything in the universe. They're trying to fix the system, help humanity become better, and maybe, if they're lucky, end up in the real Good Place.

Now she's Elspeth Bakerman, 28. Elspeth was raised by two clueless but well-meaning dads. She had to figure a lot of things out for herself, but it's made her into a highly self-reliant adult. Not that she's confident about that, or much of anything else. Elspeth tends to swing between arrogance and crippling self-doubt from moment to moment, but underneath it all she's actually both smart and competent. Her philosophy of life is pretty much fake it til you make it, and no one's better at faking it than her (in her opinion, anyway). That's how she ended up managing the front of house of a well-known French Quarter restaurant, or at least that's what she'll tell you if you ask. She's actually really good at figuring out who works well with who and how to calm an unhappy customer—though she definitely doesn't tolerate abuse from customers, especially when it's directed at her staff, and has actually banned several people from the restaurant. Don't get on her Douchenozzle List, or she'll not only kick you out of her restaurant, but warn every other establishment in the French Quarter of exactly the kind of service you deserve.

Elspeth dishes out compliments and insults in the same sarcastic, exasperated tone of voice and is sexually attracted to way too many people. She has a lot of feelings that tend to spill out everywhere at really inconvenient moments and is so bad at lying that people can't believe someone could be that bad at lying and end up believing her. She's…colorful, in other words. As is her language. Also she throws really great parties that her roommate really should learn to appreciate, but whatever. More booze and people to flirt with for her!

Elspeth is currently unaware.