Christmas Ass

Dear Internets,

For those of you who don’t know, my name is Alisa Starr. I make Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards. I sell them in bars from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. They will crack you the fuck up.

I’m in a weird place right now. My bras are all broken, and my ample bosom feels like it sags more than it impresses. My only pair of shoes has holes that duct-tape isn’t repairing. My rent is late, again. I feel guilty for spending money on food. My socks are thin.  Basically, I’m still poor. But my business is thriving. This is because I’m an idiot. And Snarky Cards bottom line was never going to work: it’s based on Bad Math. I’m never going to make enough money handmaking cards and selling them at $3 each. I’m never going to break even, selling them at wholesale price $1.50 to my stores.

But I keep trying. Which means I keep trying to step up production. And that makes me feel like an Art Slave. For the past 3 years, I’ve been building an empire. And people from all over the country (and other countries) enjoy reading and buying Snarky Cards. I’ve got a fan-base. And I’ve got a product people want. The only real way for me to make money is to start printing my cards. Which I should be able to do, in the next year, as the Underwear sell. And people are loving and buying the underwear. So, while I am sad, and poor and my boobs droop and my feet are wet and cold, I know that it’s temporary. However, I’m kinda at the end of my rope. I’ve been pushing myself for a really long time, promising myself that it’ll get better. And now I can see the Horizon of better, but I’m not sure if I can keep going long enough to get there. It’s like I’ve dug myself into this hole, and now I have to make myself a ladder, to pull myself out. And I know that Snarky Cards is awesome. Snarky Cards has made my life so much better, in so many ways. I’m finally revered and respected for my inability to bullshit. People respect my salesmanship. I get to make money off my art. I get to hang out in bars. I’m famous. But I’m so tired, and so poor, that all of that awesomeness gets lost. And even though I love my life, I wish it wasn’t mine right now.

On the other hand, wonderful things are happening. Just Out wrote about me AGAIN! How awesome is that? I keep re-reading their article about how everybody should buy Snarky Cards, beautifully written by the delectable Daniel Borgen. Snarky Cards made Daniel’s Christmas list. Which I’m totally grateful for. It’s a nice couple of paragraphs. about how Snarky Cards are an easy Christmas present you can buy from your computer. And it even features a pic of my Christmas Cards!

And Magical Michael, a friend of mine from San Francisco bought a pair of the manties, for his amazingly hot Tranny Boyfriend. And then he took pictures. And sent them to me. God, do you see the glory of this boys ass? It makes me feel like my work might be worthwhile after all, if it means that this hot boy takes his pants off more. And I’m glad that I’m finally not the only model for Snarky Undies. It may not have made a great, big, huge internet splash.

But I was self-conscious about the crappy pictures. And I was self-conscious about my huge ass being everywhere. Although, last night at The Matador, I did get to bond with this gorgeous black gay man about the power of a large booty. White guys seldom get into an ass my size. And I treasure that my ass is a siren song to the black man. But this town is pretty white. So, I forget that there are some places where my ass rocks.

So, good things are happening. And I’m trying to hold on. And I’m trying to see that I’m successful, even though that success isn’t translating into comfort, or security. Thanks, so, so much to Just Out, for giving me some hope and some reassurance that my efforts are not going unnoticed. And thankyou thankyou thankyou to Magical Michael, for buying manties, and then sending me these gorgeous pictures. And a special thanks to Michael’s gorgeous boyfriend. Whose ass is helping me pull myself out of the depths of despair.

Love,

Alisa

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