Posted on April 15, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Me at The Triple Nickel

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.

Lately, as you might have heard in my last post, I’ve been caught up in a post-break-up haze of miserable-ness. Which has severely crippled my ability to eat, sleep and work. It’s not just the break-up. It’s probably also the fact that I had a relationship in the first place. I’ve been so good at just fucking guys in bars for the last ten years. And it’s served me well. I’ve never had to deal with so many pesky feelings before.

Being slutty has kept me safe from this kind of hurt for a long time. Sigh. I miss being a total whore.

I kept being surprised when the phenomenal sex between me and Magnum (Seriously. It was like, primal shit. My orgasms were longer, and deeper than ever. It was the craziest shit I’ve ever done with another person.) kept getting better. We talked about it once, and he was like “Yeah, I knew it would get better. It’s the trust thing.” Like trusting people you sleep with was normal. Like it was OK, and it had happened before. It was one of those moments where I thought the normal thing he said was hilarious. And I couldn’t laugh, because then he’d know that I was a rusted out robot.

Anyway, so I’m feeling feelings. Every day. They are unwelcome, over-whelming and intense. Usually this is where I come up with a deviant scheme to punish the person who made me feel feelings. However, I don’t seem to want to do that. So, I’m just trying to be normal. Which means selling in my sexy new clothes (Thanks Savvy Plus!). Hopefully tonight, when I’m out at bars, there will be some poor, unsuspecting assholes that I can assault with my wit. That usually makes me feel better.

Tonight, I think that there will be boobs.

Also, I have a feeling there will probably be a lot of aggressive flirting. I think I’m almost ready to start hate-fucking again. It’s a little embarrassing, because my primary post-break-up advice for the last few years has been to start hate-fucking as soon as you possibly can. Because no-one should pay for the mistakes your last lover made, except your next lover. But I’ve been reluctant to take myself up on it. Although, it’s only been a few weeks. Maybe I just needed to ease into the hate-fucking. Maybe I shouldn’t judge myself for needing to be sad before I get mad. And into embarrassingly angry sexual situations.

I just posted this on my etsy site! I hope you like it!

So, I warmed up today for selling by posting some new cards on my etsy site. And some new pictures of me selling, and my customers looking on Facebook. And I’m letting you know Internets, I’m planning on hitting up Meridian Gold Dust, Circa 33, North 45, and Muu-Muu’s. So, if you want some Snarky Cards, from a cranky bitch, who would like to make-out with you/make you pay for her last break-up tonight, you’re in luck!

Love,

Alisa

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Snarky Cards from a Sad Sack

Posted on April 13, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,
For those of you who don’t know, my name is Alisa Starr. I make Snarky Cards. I sell them from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. They will crack you the fuck up. I will crack you the fuck up. In fact, usually I’m a funny mother-fucker. But this is a different kind of post.

About two months ago, I started seeing someone. And it ended badly. I didn’t want to write about it until I figured out what it was. Actually, I didn’t want to write about it until it was over, which it is. Usually, this kind of thing is easy for me to shake off. Usually when something ends for me, it’s because I end it. But this time has been different. This time I fell in love, and let somebody in, and I’m having a hard time dealing with the fact that he’s gone.

For the last years, a month was the maximum I was able to keep anything going. So this felt long. It always seemed to me that that was because I’m a hard person to love. I figured I’m a hard person to fall in love with too. And I was gracious and kind to the men who have left me. “It wasn’t their fault. I’m difficult.” I thought to myself. But, it’s starting to be clear to me that maybe my problem is not an inherent difficulty with my personality, but more an inability to trust men in general. As Magnum (yup, we’re calling him Magnum for obvious reasons) and I got to know each other better, I started thinking more and more about all the ways in which I’ve kept men at bay for the last ten years.

He told me a story about someone he once knew. Said that she’d had her heart broken in Junior High, and it never healed right. And I think I froze for a minute. “that’s me.” I thought. “Don’t nod your head.” I warned myself. “you don’t want him to recognize you in the story.” It didn’t quite happen like that. I trusted my first boyfriend, Carlos. And by the time we broke up for good, I didn’t trust anyone.

It wasn’t Carlos’s fault. In that 3.5 years, all of the adults in my life had hurt me. But it happened on his watch. I entrusted him with my heart, and he let other people tear it up. It was hard to realize that I was never going to be rescued by a man. This was my plan. It was actually, probably, more like my mother’s plan. Sherri loves abdicating responsibility for herself to God, to her husband, to me. And I think in my mind, we had some sort of silent bargain. I would take care of her. And then I would find a man to take care of me.

By the time I was 17, Carlos had jumped ship. And I think by then, I’d been so thoroughly abandoned and abused, the thought of trusting someone seemed absurd. My sister had relationships, my friends had relationships, and that was OK for them. But I knew a secret. Men hurt you. And so there was no point in trying to get close to them. That’s when I started my Mission of Sluttiness. And in the years since then, I’ve kept men at bay with sex, and my weight, and my personality.

I think in all of my relationships since then, I’ve walked the line between completely abdicating my responsibility for my own care (because we all try to become our mothers eventually), to defending my privacy, and my decisions constantly and angrily. I’ve walked away a lot. I’ve found men I didn’t respect, or trust to tryst with. So that it wouldn’t matter if I was broken. And I’ve found some really strong women to get my back.

So hanging out with Magnum was daunting. I tried really hard to accept him, flaws and all. And to be kind to him. And to listen to myself. Magnum’s a nice person. And he wasn’t intimidated by me. Nor was he intimidated by the fact that I seem to still be kinda fucked up. He didn’t wanna talk me through everything, but he looked at my flaws squarely, and he still seemed to like me. Which I think is the reason that I let him in so far.

At some point, in the middle of our newfound like, I had to go back home to my family, to see my niece. While I was there, I confronted my parents about their abuse. And I told them that they had caused me enough real damage, that I couldn’t see getting close to them again. It was a good move for me. But it took an emotional toll. And then something hard happened to Magnum too. And our thing, whatever it was, couldn’t withstand the weight of our respective grief.

So, for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been really sad. It’s harder because it’s not anybody’s fault. It’s scarier because I trusted a guy, and I got hurt, but I don’t think it was a mistake. Usually, this is when I pull out the rulebook, and I make some rules about how and why I should have known he wasn’t trustworthy, or why I’m just completely unlovable. But he was trustworthy. . And I am trying to just accept that I’m worth loving, and it was nice that someone tried.

All of this, the fact that I had this affair, the fact that I’m sad it’s over, is really over-whelming. I couldn’t piece it together until yesterday. My friend, Alicia Horton came up from Salem for the day. And we were completely devoted to girl time. Alicia and I weave our recent history in with our past, gossiping about things that happened 16 years ago, and things that happened last year in the same breath. At some point, after I had cried a little bit, and she had told me stories about her own ill-begotten affairs (pre-Weldon, her husband, who I love), I muttered “It’s like he took a sledge-hammer to the wall. And I don’t know who I am anymore.” Alicia nodded and said “Yeah, but now other people can get in.” And just like that I thought, “OK, maybe I don’t need the wall the way it was. Maybe I can build a door in there, so I can let someone inside if he seems like he wouldn’t fuck anything up in there.” After that, we went to Savvy plus, and tried on clothes, and I found a new pair of jeans, and some slutty tops for selling Snarky Cards in bars. And we kept gossiping and shopping, and laughing. And by the time she went home, I was closer to OK.

I know it’s just a broken heart. And those heal. It’s not even an interesting story. I loved someone, and they cared about me too, and it didn’t work. I hear those all the time, when I’m slingin’ Snarky Cards. In fact, I’ve made a living exploiting this story for my own personal gain.

I just never thought I’d be in the story. I enjoyed being the slutty girl who didn’t have relationships. I think I’m just as upset about losing the old, slutty, detached me as I am about losing Magnum. I miss my armor. I’ve enjoyed being above attachment. But it looks like I’m changing into someone else.

Savvy Plus: Sexy Clothes on the cheap, for the curvy girl!

Usually, I comfort myself after a bad boy-incident with some sex with strangers. But I think right now, I’m too sad and sensitive to pick anybody up. And I don’t seem to have any friends with benefits around anymore. So, filling my Vagina with penis-comfort seems to be out. But shopping with Alicia really made me feel better. Savvy Plus (on Hawthorne) had some really good stuff, and their prices were really good. So even an Art Prostitute can afford the occasional retail therapy. I think I’m gonna start dying my hair a lot again. And I’ve been playing a lot with eye make-up. So, it looks like I’ll be turning to girly-shit to get my through my broken heart, and help me figure out who I am next. I anticipate Sex in The City marathons. And probably some dancing.

Sexy People looking at Snarky Cards!

In the meantime, I’m trying to thrust myself into work. I’ve posted some new Snarky Cards, and I’m going selling a lot more than I have in the last couple of months. I’m trying to take more pictures of people laughing, while they look at my cards. I’m trying to document the things I like about my life, so that when I’m overwhelmed by my feelings, I have tangible proof that I am still doing a good job. However, my phone (awesome piece of technology that it is) doesn’t have a flash. So, I take pictures in the dark, and then lighten them in Picasa. Which means that a lot of my pictures look like they were taken in the 70′s. Or, possibly underwater. I kind of like the effect, but I’m sentimental. Thanks for listening to my tale of woe, Internets, and hopefully I’ll see ya in the bars sometime.

Love,

Alisa

 

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Emerald Petals

Posted on April 8, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Here are some cute girls laughing at my newest selections last weekend!

Dear Internets,

For those of you who don’t know, my name is Alisa Starr. I make Snarky Cards. I sell them from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. They will crack you the fuck up. I also have them in 35 different stores, mostly in the Northwest, but I have a few satellite stores in San Francisco, Louisville, Seattle and New York. I love my stores. So, I’m making a concerted effort to give them their props from now on.

So, I’m writing to tell you that Emerald Petals has gotten a new stash of Snarky Cards! Last week on my way home from therapy (yes, Alisa’s brain has gotten a little spazztastic lately. So, I’m back on the couch). I dropped off a new batch of Snarky Cards at Emerald Petals on Mississippi.

Hilary's pretty hot, right? And look at her picking out new Snarky Cards!

Emerald Petals is an eclectic mix of gardening shop and flower shop. Hilary, who owns the joint is sweet and knowledgeable. And she also looks pretty hot in her shop apron.

Sexy Succulents available at Emerald Petals!

They have a lot of cacti in right now. My Grandma was a sucker for succulents. She had two greenhouses full of them. And looking around Emerald Petals, I remember that I didn’t even realize that Grandma’s “plant room” was actually the nicest bathroom in the house. They had 7 people living in that tiny house, and she had the balls to make sure nobody used that third bathroom. Because it was for plants.

Grams love of these prickly pants confounded me as a child. First, they required dirt, which I thought was gross. And they are part of nature. Which I was pretty sure is always trying to kills us, due to some traumatic family camping trips. And she could spend hours watering them, and doing other mysterious things with them, I didn’t know about (I’m assuming there was trimming) because I wasn’t allowed to go into the greenhouses. Because I was a kid, and I could totally fuck some shit up, if left unsupervised. And the greenhouses were her sacred space. All of which I kinda resented. In case you can’t tell.

It's a pretty sweet shop to browse through, right?

So, looking around Emerald Petals, having smelled the fresh tulips, I tried to make my peace with the cacti. And I realized that all those plants required the work of love. Which is something I think I’m only grasping as an adult. Love means coming over to fix a friend’s couch, or taking her out for drinks so that she can talk about her broken heart. Love is Kay helping me take my first shower after I broke my leg. And Grams worked hard at loving those plants. Two greenhouses kept her busy. In the frame of all things dirty and sweet smelling,  I finally started to get gardening a little bit. It’s the work of love. I like to think my relationship with Grams got a little better, because I stopped by the shop. She’s dead now. So, our relationship doesn’t grow as much as it did when she was around. And I try to treasure the little movements towards understanding her better.

So, if you’re in Mississippi, and you want to get some fresh Tulips, or some beautiful cacti, or some of the newest, raddest Snarky Cards, stop by and say hi to Hilary, and get your hands a little dirty. You might not make-up with your dead Grandma, but I know you’ll feel better afterwards.

Love,

Alisa

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Bikini Creature Beach Feature Rocks!

Posted on April 4, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

 

 

Here are some cute girls, diggin on Snarky Cards at O'Brien's on NW 21st Ave!

For those of you who don’t know, I’m 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.

Tonight I was hawking them at the Bossanova Ballroom, in between acts of the Bikini Creature Beach Feature! Which was awesome!

I suck at describing stuff, so I’ll just quote the Portland Mercury on this: “ Bikini Creature Beach Feature is a charming mélange of ’60s beach blanket flicks, ’80s sex gooferies à la Hardbodies, and grindhouse motorcycle gang pictures. Bikini beach bunnies dance, a sea witch vamps, the local motorcycle gang cruises around with their ape, and Guantanamo Baywatch and the Lordy Lords soundtrack the shenanigans.” My friend, Matt Stanger, wrote this musical gem. And it was everything that it sounds like it was, and more. It was so fucking FUNNY! I laughed for, like, two hours straight.

The story is simple, it’s about 2 beach dweebs who have to fight a biker gang, and their rapist gorilla, Randy Bannanas, in order to race against Big Daddy and The Sand Witch. The prize for the race is a trophy and a gift certificate to Planned Parenthood. The Sand Witch is knocked up, and she wants that gift certificate baaaaaad. And Big Daddy races dirty. Will the dweebs prevail? Will they keel over from Big Daddy’s Crazy Dirty Farts? The suspense is awesome!

I think that the best part of the play was when one of the beach dweebs (the one who always got maced) said to one of the beach bunnies “Do you know CPR? Because I know ASS TO MOUTH!” Every 15 seconds there was another line that had you reeling. And then there was a minion! Who crawled around on the ground! He rolled joints for the sea-witch. And she would beat him as a reward. He wasn’t allowed to wear clothes, and he fetched things for her. Sigh. I want one of my very own. The band was live, and there were at least 15 girls, whose roles were pretty much to dance throughout the entire fucking play.

Rogue is my favorite super-hero ever. She's spunky. And she gets to make out with Wolverine. Who is a bad-ass. And, oh look! Her tits are huge! Like all the other chick super-heros. Totally reasonable theory.

Here's a picture of my boobs, so you see why I'm big-boob-biased.

A few of them had HUGE tits, which reminded me that Stanger is awesome. I’m so tired of watching tiny-titted ladies shake their sugar. I feel like if you’re gonna put some girls onstage in tiny outfits, give me a few double D’s or else I’ll be wondering what the fucking point is. This is probably my way of being Alisa-centrist, since I’m sure you’ve seen my huge rack, shaking around town. However, I like to think it’s because of comic books. When I was a little girl, all the girl-super-hero’s had HUGE tits. So, as a child, I assumed that women get all of their power from their boobs. Which, it turns out, in my adult life, is true. So, when I see boobies, I’d like to see them large, please.

 

More Alisa Starr Boobs!

Anyway, Bikini Creature Beach Feature didn’t disappoint. Hilarious-wise, and Titty-wise. If you didn’t go, that’s OK. I’m sure that Stanger will create another creation. Keep an eye out for Matt Stanger Productions. Anything that says that, is going to make you piss your pants with laughter. And if you did go, you and are both in the cool-kids club, and we will be laughing, and gasping private jokes FOREVER! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Love,
Alisa

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I heart Muu-Muu’s

Posted on April 1, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

For those of you who don’t know, my name is Alisa Starr. And 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 mostly haunt the bars of Portlandia, but I’ve been known to show up on Capital Hill, in Seattle, and I love The Mission in San Francisco.

Over the years, I’ve haunted a lot of different bars in Portland. I’ve walked into almost every single place that sells liquor in order to pay rent, or spread the good news of Snarky Cards. Muu-Muu’s is in Northwest Portland. I started selling there two years ago. And it became a staple on my route. I make a lot of money there. Almost every night in Muu-Muu’s is a $100 night.

But once I started selling there, Snarky Cards became a group project. And the kids who work there: Choia, Justin, Mark, Loren, Moira, Alonzo, Kevin and Noah, Big Voice Steve, all feel pride in my success. Because they’re part of it. They help me sell. They hype me up. They let me come in, and they like to show off my cards to anybody who’s drinking. They listen to my problems, and they tell me their shit. And we dance, and we work together, and we bitch about the same customers. And we hang out with the same regulars.

The magic of the Muu-Muu’s is that you can walk in not knowing anybody and if you sit at the bar, you make friends with your neighbors and the bartenders and you start to get that “We’re all in this together” feeling. Big parties and couples-in-love inhabit the tables, and you can see people falling for each other, or hear the uproarious laughter from across the room.

Like these two hot people, sitting at the bar, right? You could hook up with one of them next time you pull up a barstool at Muu-Muu's

And, little known fact, if you sit at the bar, there’s a pretty good chance that you’ll find someone you wanna chat up, or you’ll find that someone hot is chatting you up. Not always. Sometimes the frat boys and hoochie mama’s who drink at The Gypsy invade the bar space, but most of the time, there’s some pretty good game getting thrown down at the bar itself. And I love me some good game. It’s fun to watch the hot boys and girls who go there to drink eyeing each other and trying.

A few weeks ago, I walked in and I saw the “Snarklandia” sign and my heart jumped. It was posted up at the bar, on the back of the taps. It was a low night. I’d been telling myself that nobody really likes me. And any second now I’d get kicked out of every bar in town, because they were sick of my tits, and my schtick, and my cards. I was having the “Big Alisa Meeting” fantasy/fear. Sometimes I tell myself that after I’ve left a bar, the staff gets together and has a meeting about how they’re all sick of me.

See why the dudes who fall for me have to move to an island afterwards to recover? Part of that is my hotness. Displayed here.

It’s not based in reality. I mean, bars have gotten sick of me before. But only a few bars. And it was mostly in the beginning, before I could gage where I could/should sell, when I was just blindly trying shit. I wasn’t friends with the people who ran those places. And I didn’t want to be. The Big Alisa Meeting fantasy/fear is loosely related to the “Ex Lover Island”. Which is something I cooked up a long time ago. I’m pretty sure that all the people I’ve ever slept with or dated are all living on an island together, where they have therapy (directly related to the trauma of sexing/liking me) and they form a support group on the island for whatever damage I’ve inflicted. Also, they divide chores fairly. Once an ex of mine has sufficiently recovered from the scars I left on him, he’s allowed a day-pass into the real world. From what I gather, this island has a good wi-fi connection. Because occasionally those fuckers try to friend me on Facebook.

Alisa and Arlette! I would have thrown KT up here too, but she hates to have her image captured by the internet.

So, today, firmly rooted in reality, I know that my bartender friends always seem happy to see me, but the relationships feel fragile. And I sometimes think one wrong interaction, one misstep, and their smiles will turn into looks of resignation at my presence. It’s probably just an extension of my basic insecurity. I am a bad-ass bitch. Who worries sometimes that nobody likes her. I don’t think I even knew that the Big Alisa Meeting fear was happening to me as often as it was, or how ludicrious it sounded, until I went to San Francisco, and I confessed it to Kaytea and Arlette. One of them laughed. And the other one said “That’s fucking bullshit, stop it!”. I don’t remember who did what. It doesn’t matter, because at that point they had become one seamlessly perfect best friend. And I was so grateful to let her handle all of my bullshit. After that, I got that the Big Alisa Meeting is a bullshit fantasy I’d concocted, and not a real possibility.

But this is before that. So, I was too nervous to ask right away if the SnarkLandia sign was about me. I hoped it was. But I didn’t want to say anything about on the off-chance that they’d be like “Well, actually, we had a meeting and we decided we don’t like you anymore. I don’t know who put that sign up.” I asked Moira If I could draw some boobs on the sign. And she was delighted to let me. And those three seconds of drawing calmed me down. And I let go of my fears. And I realized that whether the sign was about me or not, that bar is my home. And somehow I just… I started trusting that my friendships there are real. They love me for me. And they love me when I’m not super-on. And they love me when I’m tired. And they love me when I’m a little sad. I fell in love with the bar right then. And I included it in my idea of home.

And then Choia bought some of my Snarky Panties. Which she promptly put on her head. And I danced to the kick-ass music in the aisles, while I sold my cards to everyone in the bar. And the magic of that place infected me. And now, when I’m nervous about selling, or when I’m having a hard night, I tell myself that I’m going to end up at Muu-Muu’s. I promise myself that I can bullshit with my friends at the end of my night, and it gets me through until I can walk through that awesome door one more time.

So, if you’re wondering where I’m at, there’s a good chance I’m headed to Muu-Muu’s.Or maybe I’m already there. You should come by.

Love,

Alisa

Posted in Alisa has feelings, Place I'll be, Places We Love, Snarky Cards | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Grant = Rad

Posted on March 31, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

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

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing to you regularly. My website filled up. And I had to switch to a larger package. Or buy a bigger package and then move shit from one package to another thing. Clearly, this required tech skills I don’t have, and my friend Arlette, the tech-wiz has finally gotten a little too busy to be at my beck and call, web-work wise. She’s still an ace best friend, but your friends can only give you free professional help for so long. And she lasted longer than everyone else. Three years is a long time of super-help. And I’m happy that finally her career and her personal life are soaring, and so she doesn’t have enough time for a Snarky Cards website hobby.

Since I started Snarky Cards, it’s come first. And nothing has been able to move me from that. Everything else in my life revolves around the cards. And the cards have given me my friends, my bars, my place in Portland, some fame, a tattoo, and a sense of confidence I’ve never had before. And they made me a writer. Which is my biggest point of pride. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Ever since I was a little girl. This having-a-dream thing might sound amazing to those of you who are aimlessly wandering through life, wondering what they should be doing with themselves. But it’s kind of a pain in the ass. It makes me extraordinarily single-minded.

When I hang out with my friends, 40% of my brain is thinking/worrying/planning more Snarky Card Shit. When I watch tv, I’m making cards, or making plans. When I’m shopping, I’m thinking about what to buy for Snarky Cards. But even with all this thinking, and concentrating, there’s a lot of shit I can’t do. There’s too much work. And only one of me. And I have a limited set of skills.

So, I’ve been needing help for a while. I’ve talked about getting interns, but I hadn’t seriously looked for one yet. I managed people, a long time ago, in my bookseller days. And it was hard. But more importantly, I’m pretty sure that I was terrible at it. And I made life harder for the people I was in charge of. I never could figure out how to be the kind of boss that I wanted to be. I had the best bosses in the world at Brentano’s: Stacy and Glenn. And I could never figure out how to bridge the gap between my behavior and theirs. What I came up with seemed kind of paltry. So, I vowed never to do that again. Which is why I’d been dragging my feet finding this intern.

You’ll recall that I talked about this whole intern idea in one of my earlier posts. After Christmas I admitted to myself, and to you, Dear Internets, that I needed help building my little empire. But I hadn’t gone All Alisa On That Shit yet. See, when I decide to do something, nothing stops me. Which is why I waffle on deciding things. I test ideas out. I plan out things I may not go through with. But once I’m full-on in, I’m relentless. Which might be why I’ve sold 38,715 Snarky Cards since I started.

So, I took snarfed a lot of hot sex, and armed with my ardor, I started talking about getting an intern CONSTANTLY. I put an ad on Craigslist. An ad which I reposted no less than 4 times. Craigslist tore it down. A lot. Because apparently, they hate me. But I POSTED IT. And I posted an ad on the PNCA website. And I talked about looking for interns at the bars, and with my friends, and I started to make a list of things I would need my interns to do.

Enter Grant. Grant is a fucking godsend. He is friends with Claire. And he said “I have a lot of free time on my hands. I could help you out for a while. And it would give me something to do every day.” So, he started coming over to help me with Snarky Cards. And he is, like, psychotically talented. He found me an accounting system, taught me to use it, and then he typed up my master list of cards. He figured out how to set up wi-fi in the apartment. He helped me create records for my retailers in the accounting system. He has gone to pick up money, and drop off new cards, he helped me fix my website, and now he’s helping me revamp it. He came up with this rack that I can use to dry cards, so that they’re not littering every surface of the apartment. He listens when I talk.

He is kind, and serious and funny and he has come over to help me work on Snarky Cards for 40 hours a week, every week for the last month. He helped me reorganize my living room so that we can find shit in it. And I find that the more I explain things to Grant, the better I am at figuring out what parts of my business I need to change.

Like in most things, I find out more about myself when I explain me to someone else. It’s part of what makes me such an earnest and confessional writer. It’s why I like to do things not just for me, but for the good of other people I know. Because then I have to explain shit to them, and in explaining shit to them, I explain it to me.

It still amazes me that someone so talented would be helping me without pay. But I do my best to admire gift-horses from a distance. Not wanting to see flaws before I get my free ride.

And so far, I think I’m the kind of boss that I want. I bring him coffee. We tell each other about our lives. I respect his time. And I try to make sure that he knows I’m in awe of his talent. And I try to believe that while I might have been a shitty boss in the past, all of the good things I saw Stacy and Glenn do are still in my head. And I may not have been good at imitating them in the past. But maybe I’ve grown enough that I can be good at those things now.

So, I’m writing to you now, because Grant is a genius. And he made my website bigger. And he’s doing  a lot of other amazing stuff that is making it easier for me to bring you more Snarky Cards and underwear, and posters. Do not fear, Dear Internets. The Snarky Empire is being built. Soon, I will be able to offer you all kinds of Snarky Shit. Thanks to Grant The Amazing. And to celebrate Grants awesomeness, I’m offering 20% off your Snarky Cards! Go to http://snarkycards.etsy.com and enter coupon code: alisaheartsinterns to get your discount!

Love,

Alisa

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Snarky Valentines!

Posted on February 7, 2011 by Alisa Starr

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

This weekend, I took some time off. There was a boy. And some weed. And I am waaaayyy more relaxed now.
And despite the fact that Im a little drunk off of the great sex I had this weekend, I am still a responsible person. For an artist. And I wanted to remind you that Snarky Valentines are in stores now! As well as online!
I hope they help you get laid!
Love,
Alisa Starr

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My Baby is prettier than all of the other babies

Posted on February 2, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

Isn't Awesome Beautiful?

My name is Alisa Starr, and 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. And on Sunday my brother and his gorgeous girlfriend Christina finally had their baby (which I will now refer to as my baby) Emilene! Here she is. Isn’t she fucking gorgeous? I wanted to name her Awesome. So, that’s what we’re calling her from now on.

I’m super-excited about being an Auntie! Joy and I (my sister) have all kinds of plans for her. We’re going to make her do sports, so she has really big self-esteem. And I’m thinking I’ll make a Snarky Kids Clothing Line for her. “All those boys are screwed!” Joy crowed into the phone, as I smoked a joint and she raised her wineglass to our niece. “They can try as hard as they want to, but from now on, our hearts belong to Emilene!” We sang together in unison. It was a wonderful moment, putting a final end to a decade long war between us. Apparently babies can smooth away all kinds of shit.

I’m an Auntie now. And I feel a wider range of feelings because of my newfound love. I’m not shitting you. Last night I was watching V, which now stars a baby. And I found that baby more adorable than I would have normally.Well, normally I would have been like “God, when are they going to stop using that baby as a prop?” But last night I was like “Wow! Babies are the best props in the world!”

She's beautfiul, right?

I don’t think I’m a coo-er. Or, I wasn’t, until Stephenie called to tell me that he and Christina were pregnant with Awesome. Ever since then, all babies have inspired me to make horrible baby coo noises. And I find all babies, even crying ones, adorable. I’ve been obsessed. I call once a week to find out what’s going on. After the first month of me calling all the time and suggesting names and shit, Stephenie  was like “Is this your version of baby fever?” And I think it might be. Niece-obsession.

Stephenie and Awesome

So, as a result of my newfound love, the Valentines Day cards don’t have as much bite to them as they may have in years past. Because I’m a nicer person. OK, that’s probably not true. I’m still a horrible person. But I have discovered love. Usually it’s hate that makes me strong, but I think this baby-love thing might actually be making me more Awesome too. You can check out the new V-D cards on my etsy site. And you can find more pictures of Emilene, and me on Facebook.

Love,

Alisa

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Valentines Day, Interns and Some Good Hard Fucking

Posted on February 1, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

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’ve been remiss in writing to you. I’ve also kind of sucked at keeping to this schedule. It’s become more of a guideline. And even though Christmas is over, I still find myself drowning in work. It seems that Valentines Day is just as Challenging as Christmas. Though, it’s only one day, instead of a monthly marathon of people buying shit, so the pressure doesn’t last as long. But it’s kind of a big card holiday. People expect Valentines Day Cards. It’s the one time in the year that my art has a purpose. It’s the one time of the year that I don’t have to explain myself as much. And I’m having the same old problem: too much work, not enough of me. And I find myself vacillating between frenzied work, and listless inability to do anything remotely work-related.

Totally inspiring, right?

I find myself re-reading Sara Paretsky’s VI Warshawski novels, which is always a sign that I’m feeling sorry for myself. I know that it’s really, really bad when I start re-watching Aliens. And I know that I absolutely want to do give up when I turn to Buffy. That’s how I fight feelings of wanting to give up. I watch Bitches Kick Total Ass Against All Odds. And at some point, I say to myself “Well, if VI can solve the mystery after someone cuts her face up, I can just make another 15,000 cards on my own.” or “If Ripley can kill that fucking alien, and protect that little girl at the same time, I can go without sleep for a night or two this week.”  Or “If Buffy can fight all kinds of evil, even though she clearly only weighs 90 lbs, I can totally figure out how to sell this new thing I made.” So far, we’re only at a VI Warshawski level of being overwhelmed. And I’m trying not to let it get to the Aliens stage. That’s harder to recover from.

So, I’ve decided to try to find an intern. I put up an ad on the Pacific Northwest College of Arts website. And hopefully, some nice art students who want to learn how to sell their shit will email me, and I’ll finally get someone to help me.  I can teach them how to sell their own shit, while they help me build my Snarky Empire. Soon I’ll figure out a way to pay my bills and take a day off, every week.

On the other hand, I’m really enjoying my life. Lately I’ve noticed that I’ve got a plethora of really good friends. And, I’ve been having sex with some nice guys. I’ve even gotten a couple of repeats, which is unusual for me. I’m trying to be OK with the idea that someone would want to have sex with me more than once. And I’m trying to be OK with guys I like liking me back. It’s not full-fledged dating, exactly, but it’s progress. And I’m pretty happy with all of the great penis I’ve been getting lately.

There’s one guy in particular that I think about a lot. I fell into bed with him by accident, but it turned out he had a lot of cool shit going for him. And sleeping with him made me feel like I might be making better sexual decisions. He’s probably more afraid of commitment than I am of intimacy. When you have two people too busy and freaked out to start anything, the chances of living happily ever after are low. So, I’m not having fantasies about making him my new boyfriend. But I do like him. And I think he likes me. And the sex was pretty good. And I’m going to try to figure out what it was about him. And what I liked about me when I was around him. And I’m going to try to replicate the situation with somebody else. I’m kinda stoked. It’s like sleeping with him gave me a big clue as I try to figure out what kind of guy I could date.

I’ll try and explain it some more in my next post. I’m sorry I’m so vague, I think I’m using my Vagina to figure my shit out again, and I’m not quite done yet, so it’s hard to explain the progress I’m making.

No matter what, I think that getting some really awesome cock in the last few months has made me a better card writer. Or at least, it’s put me in a pretty good mood, so I think I can honestly say that your friends and lovers will be happy to get a Snarky Card from you this year. You can see for yourself on my etsy site. I hope you like the new shit. It was a delight to get some inspiration the old-fashioned way: naked.

Sincerely,

Alisa

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The Schedule

Posted on January 20, 2011 by Alisa Starr

Dear Internets,

My name is Alisa Starr. I make Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards. They will crack you the fuck up. I sell them in bars, from a box that hangs around my boobs. And I have them in 35 different stores around Portland, OR and in other fine cities.

I think I feel like I’m on an even keel, for the first time since I started Snarky Cards, 3 years ago. This Christmas was slammin. It seemed like everyday I got a call from a store or a person who was wondering where

This is how I felt for the last 2 months. I'm the lady being stretched out.

their cards were. I couldn’t get enough cards to my stores. I couldn’t make enough cards to make sure that every store got Christmas Cards. And while I loooove having my cards in stores, my wholesale pricing means that I don’t make enough money just selling them to stores to get by. I need to go out and sell them in bars also. So, I spent about 6 weeks, from Thanksgiving to Christmas painting my ass off, trying to sell my ass off. And every time I turned around, there was more to do, and not enough of me to get it done. It was exciting to have everybody want my shit. And overwhelming. It was kind of like being stretched out on the rack. I was sick for the entire month of December, and most of November. And I didn’t know how I would make it through.

But I did. January, so far, has been kind of awesome. I’m still collecting money for my Christmas sales, and this month my bills have all been paid on time. And I’ve got time to breathe, and plan. My most awesome thing (besides the nifty bills-paid thing, which is shiny and new) that I’m doing this year is called a schedule. Since I started the cards, I’ve mostly been reacting. People asked for Christmas cards, so I thought some up. My stores needed display boxes, so I created them, People asked me to make displays, or do craft shows, so I figured that out. People wanted me to be able to take credit cards, so I got a machine. This year, I feel like I know how to do every kind of thing I need to know how to do in order to sell Snarky Cards well. I feel like I can start planning, and preparing for the next thing, instead of just reacting when it comes up. Therefore, the schedule.

I think I can make enough money, and cards if I spend Monday through Wednesday painting and typing, and handling my office work. And then I can spend Thursday through Sunday selling my cards in bars. I have never been able to do that in part because selling my cards in bars takes a lot out of me, and I haven’t been able to make myself do it 2 days in a row. Say nothing of 3 days in a row. But I think if I ease off the booze (less whiskey, more weed and water while I’m working), and start having a little faith, rather than making myself crazy  believing that I’ll fail, and then trying to build myself back up into The Super Awesome Snarky Card Chick so I can go out and sell, I’ll be able to do it.

That’s the other thing, from now on I’m just going to believe that my system works. Which it does- but it’s insane. I mean, what kind of asshole tries to make a living selling their own art? My parents didn’t raise me to believe that I could do whatever I wanted with my life. They raised me to believe that I could maybe look forward to a life as an executive’s assistant, if I worked very, very hard. And if I was very, very lucky, a nice man would pity me, and marry me despite my mouth, and I wouldn’t starve, or get into too much trouble. Because the man would save me from my own personality. And looks.

So the idea that I can make my living off of my art flies in the face of my childhood beliefs. The idea that I could use my sexuality, or my looks to help sell that art also defies everything my Mother ever taught me too. And I think while I’ve been building Snarky Cards, I’ve still subjected myself to those beliefs in my head.

So, I’m banishing yet another piece of my childhood from my head because it makes my life harder. And I’m just going to try the schedule, and I’m just going to believe that I can make it work. Because so far, I have made it work.

Soon, I’ll have a new pair of undies to grace you with, and I’m cooking up some Snarky Posters for you too.

Thanks for listening to my boring list of chores, Internets. I promise, news about my Vagina is on it’s way!

Love,
Alisa

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