Welcome to Shame Sandwich, where Megan feels equal parts shame and glee in sharing hilarious personal thought rants every Friday. Sometimes on shame, sometimes shame infused, and other times, nothing to do with shame. Enjoy responsibly.
Sooooooo. 😬
I had an entire newsletter written approximately 69% to completion and then I decided to take a match box along with some kindling wood and gasoline for good measure and light that bitch on fire because it was NOT cooperating.
Basically have you ever seen a child throwing a temper tantrum on isle 7 and the mom is trying to be all calm and cool but her left iris is wigging out and her right pinky finger is kind of twitching and her face looks like it’s about to go all Psycho Darth Vader mode and you know she’s 33 seconds away from screaming out “I’M HEREBY LEGALLY DISOWINGING MY BITCH FUCKING CHILD AND GRANTING THE RIGHTS TO COSTCO PLS DON’T TRY TO RETURN TO SENDER K THANKS BYEEEE” and you’re just trying to get past the screaming and tantruming child and mother with the greatest haste possible?
Yeah well I am that mom and that tantruming child was my newsletter and here we are. 😂
Starting fresh!
Why?
Because I’m in my era of giving zero fucks.
→ Zero Fucks Given to people pleasing.
→ Zero Fucks Given to saying what I want.
→ Zero Fucks Given to doing what I want.
→ Zero Fucks Given to writing what I want.
.
.
.
EXCEPT, THAT’S ALL LIES.
LIES, LIES, LIES. 😭
I wish I was in my zero fucks era.
Can you imagine how un-hinged I would be???????????
Server: Ma’am what would you like to order today?
Me: An orgasm with a side of bondage, please.
Server: …
Me: Just kidding. That was a joke. Unless you’re into that.
Um, I’ll have a Reuben sandwich please. Possibly a Corona with lime.
Actually yes, definitely a Corona with lime.
Server: blinks twice …ok…! walks swiftly away
.
.
.
GOD.
😂😂😂😂
Anywho, I certainly fantasize about being in my Zero Fucks Given era, or ZFG era, if you will. ← if you will??? If you will what??? That is such an odd expression lmao
But you know what I realized?
By the sheer fact of pyromaniacking my 69% completed newsletter and starting fresh, I realized that was a pretty big ZFG moment.
You see, pre ZFG Megan would have definitely given a fuck about “quitting” and starting over.
QUITTING should only for people who engage in anal and then realize they want to stop. ← y’all. Please tell me that is the sound of you laughing with me and not the sound of you storming out. ← I don’t know what is wrong with me. 😂 Actually I do but those are more newsletters for more times. LOL.
Side note: I’m fucking famished right now!!!! I only had two avocados all day today until about 8pm and then I ate dinner but it did NOT satisfy me I repeat I am still starving ughhhhhh. Which is also why this newsletter is like it is. 👀
“Quitting” is so shameful.
Another side note: I have got to fucking eat something this is absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Side side note: I just did go and eat something and now I’m slightly less famished so there’s that.
Side side side note: Because you might be curious, what I ate was a toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Well, half of one. Originally I was going to have toast with butter and jam but then I realized the peanut butter would provide more sustenance so I canceled that toaster, popped that bitch up prematurely and slathered half with peanut butter and the other with jelly and ravished it.
And, I get so “in my head” about writing a newsletter that has a “purpose”.
Desperately searching for divine anointment confirmation that makes it worthy of consumption.
FUCK THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!
Who’s to say what has purpose and what doesn’t have purpose???
Who’s to say that my shameful-vulgar-hilarious-heartfelt-ramblings about nothing and everything don’t have purpose???
My words have purpose precisely because they are born out of love.
I adore writing these newsletters.
I adore sharing my thoughts and emotions.
I adore bringing joy to people through words that make you laugh. And feel seen. And feel inspired to be more of your own madly unique self.
I adore writing, yo.
Fucking adore it.
I know my writing isn’t very “genre-able” or “wholesome” or “subject-rich”.
And?
I’m nearly 69% ok with that.
My fully formed wet dream is to fully be in my ZFG era. 🥵
Great hairless nipples that is the ultimate goal!!!!
One day, I’m going to wake up.
Walk over to my keyboard.
Set my nearly naked ass down on the couch with laptop in hand.
And just write.
Write, write, write without even questioning if I think the judges of the universe deem it worthy of being published.
Things like writing my thoughts on shopping cart etiquette and my ability to bring road rage to aisle 18.
Or, my thoughts on vulva hair. Why I didn’t go with the more socially acceptable pubic hair we will never know. Why I have thoughts on this in the first place is another matter entirely.
Or, my thoughts on why I’m so fucked up inside.
Or, my thoughts on being a single mom. The single-handedly most hard thing I’ve ever had to do. Which is saying a lot.
Or, my thoughts on eating pizza cold out of the fridge like an absolute polar bear savage. Spoiler alert: my thoughts on this have changed.
Or, my thoughts on growing up in a cult adjacent religious household. #Kinky ← did you ever realize “ink” is two words away from kinky?
You know?
That is the fantasy. To just write.
And lately, I’ve been feeling more pressure on myself to have more “structure” and “purpose” and “worthiness” to my Shame Sandwich newsletter.
But… NO.
Fucking no.
That is not why I started my newsletter.
That is not what I’ve ever done with my newsletter to date.
And I solemnly swear, my dearest reader, left hand to god left tit, that I am going to keep writing on my terms for the simple fact that it brings me joy.
JOY!!!!
Because when I write from a place of joy?
That is how I connect with you. Any myself.
That is how I feel connected to aliveness and purpose and love and divinity and magic.
And that is pretty fucking worthy of being shared. ♥️
.
.
.
Damn, well, I had zero clue how this newsletter was going to turn out and… I don’t know if I wrote the newsletter I wanted to write, but I certainly wrote a newsletter that I needed to write. For myself. And hopefully for you, too.
Here’s to learning to give more Zero Fucks Given each day.
Becuase we’re oh so worthy of that. 🥹
HAVE THE BESTEST FRIDAY AND WEEKEND!!!!!
🫶
-M
p.s. - I’m going to my first ever official EDM music festival with my man this weekend and I’m very excited but also low-key panicking BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE MY OUTFIT FIGURED OUT YET!!!!!!!! Which, obbbbviously is half the fun so pls send prayers and well wishes my way.
p.p.s. - Also I hope you look in the mirror today and loudly scream whisper to yourself: I’m fucking awesome!!!! Because you are. ♥️
From the bottom of my tiny tits, thank you for being here. If these words made you feel, it would mean the world if you could tap the lil ‘heart’, leave a comment or share this. 🖤
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ZFG, but do make sure your server knows your safeword (or you know theirs, depending).
Entering ZFG era with you? Yes. Alone: no. Never. Not even a chance.
Thanks for leading the pack 🐺