Thank you, Laura! We plan to keep them up for a while. And sometime in the future put out *physical manifestation* with the ones we've published here and some others and related stuff. In the meantime, we'd be delighted if you dipped into the archives and continued to read! See ya on the flip side.


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

You wake up. It’s either Wednesday or Saturday. If it’s Wednesday you’re screwed because you’re supposed to be in Puerta Vallarta getting married, which you are clearly not. Where you clearly are is a city alley in winter lying on top of a partially deflated sex doll and empty cans of Tusker lager.


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

First off, let’s get this out of the way. We don’t go to therapy — never have and never will! Therapy is for crazy people, and we’re not crazy, no matter what our therapists say. WAIT. Ignore that last bit.

We kid; a therapist would never say that — especially not the ‘c’ word (“credit”). They would just furiously scribble things down while you talk about your clearly unhealthy behaviors, and then go talk to their own therapist about what supreme fuck ups we are. In this way, we are stimulating the economy, creating…


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

It’s hard to believe, but some people can actually afford a place with a little bit of land. Most of them just grow grass, but a rare few try to grow something else. Pot. Opium. Cocaine. Beets. But we’re not talking about them. We’re talking about the people who grow other, non-fucking-you-up stuff. They call these places of growing Gardens. Gardens can be full of flowers, which are pretty and quickly die, or vegetables, which are cheaper at the store but take a lot of work and probably won’t come up or will get…


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

Let’s say there’s someone who has the power of life and death over you, someone who — if they so desired — could roast you on a spit over hot coals while whipping you with a broom made of cholla shrubs. Or they could show you mercy and give you a sliver of dry toast to eat. The point is you have to do what your wife — or dad, boss, grandmother, guru, parole officer — says. Or else.

So when that Person’s cousin is getting married for the fourth time and Person has…


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

We all get set in our ways, like so much concrete poured in so many exes’ cars. Our loved ones are no exceptions. Mealtime can get to be a drag. The same old stuff out of the same old boxes. You can try to mix it up and introduce new food, but there’s a pretty good chance you’re going to encounter some resistance. Especially from kids. And pets. And everyone.

But that doesn’t mean you should just give up and resign yourself to Taco Tuesdays, Meatloaf Mondays, and…actually, let’s circle back to the tacos…


Now that the Federal Government has returned after having wandered off who knows where and who knows why after we left alone it in the parking lot — IT WAS FOR 5 MINUTES! — many of you are wondering What Now? Here’s an Idea:

Everybody wants to complain about government bureaucracy, but give them a chance to get those government bennies and they’re whistling a different tune. …


You get home from work (i.e., you close your laptop and move from the right side of your couch — the work site — to the left side of the couch — “home”) and start thinking about suppertime. There are four foodstuffs in your fridge — espresso-flavored yogurt, a jar of pickled jalapenos, beer, a little container of non-dairy creamer, and beer. Except for the beer, everything is past its so-called expiration date. In your cupboard is a can of nacho sauce, a can of beans, a single English muffin, and a plate that once had food on it but…


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

We all have stress in our lives. Work. Family drama. Bills. Timmy. What would be great would be if we could find a way to release some of that stress in a productive way that might lead to something useful or at least tangible. But there’s never time for that. …


By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

You wake up on New Year’s Eve. You’ve got the day off, there are frozen waffles in the freezer, your girlfriend Pam has a birth control patch. Life is Good.

You do the first thing everyone does before getting out of bed. You check your cell phone. The weather’s good. There’s no horrifying news for a change. You get another pop up ad for those New Year’s party hats. “Free! Free! Free! Golden New Year’s Party Hat! Built In Old Lang Syne tune! Built in litre of Jagermeister! Text 666999 for a free, sparkly-as-hell…

How To Even…

The only blog you’ll ever need. By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe Archives: https://medium.com/@howtoeven/how-to-even-archives-3eeea1f52d31

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