I know it feels the world has gone insane, and not in the fun Dollop way, with willfully dangerous theme parks mobbed by juiceheads cracking skulls for fun, or Mommy-love-me taxidermy, or even flying cars. Really, darkly insane. Bigotry and bombs.

Never fear, your Carla is here.

I will not only be catching up on episode entries, I will be throwing in snippets that I have been saving, specifically to make you laugh. If we can’t laugh with each other, and enjoy how wacky and weird we can all be, we are already all dead. Yes? Yes.

Come here if you’re feeling overwhelmed. Momma Carla’s got you.

If the feelings persist, you need to talk to someone. You can do so anonymously, thanks to SAMSHA: Call the Disaster Distress Helpline at 1-800-985-5990 or text TalkWithUs to 66746 for support and counseling.

or text for support and counseling. Spanish-speakers should text Hablanos to 66746 .

. English speakers in U.S. territories text TalkWithUs to 1-212-461-4635.

Now, I promised something silly as fuck to counter all the ugly. My Rubes, I deliver.

I brought up taxidermy deliberately, for this is taxidermy on a level that I did not know existed. I use a cane for EDS and fibro, and I occasionally get the Fashionable Canes catalog in the mail. I received one last night, and it fell open as if assisted by the guardian angel of my funny bone to this page.

Oh, I’m sorry, I know what you’re thinking. That picture is too small and not bright enough. You can’t possibly be reading that right. Let me adjust that for you. One moment while I tinker…

Boom.

My stars and garters, yes, gurl.

And it’s real. It’s not “approximation of” or even “molded from”, which would be dreadful enough, but actual, certified BULL PENIS. Certified. That’s a thing. Somewhere, someone tests these and signs off on them. I assume there’s pretty certificates in chintzy store frames.

I would love to claim this, say I am this talented in Photoshop and crow that I have punked you. Nope. It’s real. Which means only one thing.

J. R. Ewing lives.

Let’s continue to deconstruct this, because I AM STILL GIGGLING. The deeper you go, the funnier it gets. Pun. Fucking. Intended.

Length may vary.

Cannot be resized.

Tip size: Speciality.

Certified: Made From the Reproductive Organ of a Bull.

31 inches? 34 inches? 36?! Dude, I am only 62 inches tall. The verb cleave comes to mind. Yowza.

Then here’s the website copy, and I doff my hat at Fashionable Canes’ obvious and solid attempt to avoid the word “shaft” at all costs:

The legendary bull penis cane is the most unique of all walking canes. A great gift idea for any cane collector, these walking canes are constructed of real bull organs, fully sterilized and prepared by a professional taxidermist. The durable metal rod down the center of the penis cane ensures its longevity and reinforces its sturdy nature.

If anyone knows the historical context of these fine manly walking…um…sticks, please let me know. I have to know. We all have to know.

Okay, so the rest of your day is probably still going to be inundated by news updates more alarmist than news, your friends telling you what to be upset about and how, your friends unfortunately and surprisingly saying bigoted things, unwanted images of carnage, the whole horrific nine yards. Here are your safe words, here is your mantra, written down for you in handy flash cards. Concentrate, chant, and inwardly cackle. Love you:





