Last week, I glanced at my wordpress dashboard and something caught my eye.

Posts: 493

Wait. What? That must be counting, like, 100 drafts, right??

Nope. It is true, my friends. Today marks the day I have poisoned the interwebs with my drivel Five. Hundred. Times.

After I got over the initial shock, it dawned on me that something clearly must to be done in order to celebrate this ridiculous and entirely self-asborbed milestone.

A BLOG ROAST!!!!!!!!!!

After all, I spend so much time on here making fun of MYSELF… let’s give you all a chance for once, eh?

So a few of my closest friends and bloggy cohorts have given us these Roasty Tidbits so we can have a big old laugh at all things LiLu.

Thank you so much, each and every one of you who wrote something below, all of you who comment around these parts, every last one of you who reads. This place has become one of my favorites in the world, and it’s truly all because of YOU.

Here’s to another (God help us) 500…

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Roast! Roast! Roast!

Let’s All Make Fun of LiLu!

(If only we had Christopher Walken to MC.)

Let’s kick it off…

brad:

“Things I know you know I know you know (aka FACTS):

I don’t like cats, but I’m cool with Axe Murderer and Murray. So, obviously, they’re not actually cats. And I’d appreciate it if you and B stopped with the lies and just admitted that you found a pair of growth-stunted dogs that are fluent in purring.

Don’t worry: you will never be a cat lady. But if I’m reading the Washington Post 10 years from now and see that you and B are basically the Angelina and Brad of growth-stunted-dogs-pawned-off-as-cats, traveling country to country, adopting animals with identity crises, let’s just say I won’t be surprised.

You dance like Forrest Gump with the leg braces on.

I don’t like food that has been seasoned with poop. But even though I ate at the housewarming when you fought the beast and were elbow deep in your toilet’s exit hole before you made the food, I never once thought about not going back. So either I’m a broken, broken man, or you are worth risking some surprise fiber in the chili.

Congratulations.”

Lexa:

“Lilu once made me go see Year One…where they eat feces. That is all.”

cavy:

“From bathroom humor, crazy boy stories, and a love of both alcohol and karaoke (preferably in combination with each other), I can honestly say that you are one of the most unique people I’ve ever encountered.  And by unique, I mean very similar to me.

In honor of your 500th, I’m placing this fantasy in your hands.  Use it well.”

Lizzy:

“In our year of friendship, Lilu has given me a lot. A vibrator. A virtual, and then real, shoulder to cry on. A badass new website. Hours of inappropriate laughter. So, I love her…but I’m going to have to expose her. You guys think she’s all funny funny cat lady with the cute boyfriend, but before that? Lilu was a FASHION blogger. (The crowd shudders) Yes, people. Go back to the archives. I dare you. Almost every post ended with some shoe porn. So I’m here to say, bring back the mother effing shoes, hooker.”

Moog:

“LiLu and B – so in love you always want to tell them to “GET A ROOM.” Then you realize that they actually DO have a room but it’s full of stupid fucking cats.

LiLu is like the blogger I aspire to be: funny, friendly, and has a vagina. I love vaginas. SO jealous. But then, if I had one, I wouldn’t have time to blog. You know, with all the masturbating and sticking vegetables in it and stuff.

LiLu has been like the sister I never had. I guess that makes B the brother I never had. Which makes me picturing them having sex like some weird Kentucky home movie. Especially with me in the middle. FYI, B is packing and doesn’t like to lube up when he goes backdoor. I wish I never had a brother.”

lacochran:

“Congratulations to the only chick I know who works to make you feel comfortable while she shares details about blow jobs. Shine on you crazy diamond. Love ya!”

Marie:

“She loves hard – especially her man – and lives life to the fullest – especially in bed.

You give her specific instructions for how to make and drink a certain type of extremely strong alcohol. But since she’s already had too much firefly, she’s downed the entire beverage in mid-explanation.

LiLu, my dear, you are a wonderful and unique individual. Let’s keep it that way shall we?”

Maxie:

“Thank god the 20sb Award LiLu won for “blogger I’d most like to get a drink with” was phrased in the singular form. The girl can’t stay up past 10:00 to save her life, let alone to have 2.”

Narm:

“LiLu is to blogging what beastiality is to internet porn. She is funny and shocking but I also have to delete my history before Mom finds out.

500 posts – and at least four of them didn’t have a TWSS joke! It’s like they just come naturally (TWSS).

Thanks to the “TMI Thursday” series it is quicker to just ask bloggers where they HAVEN’T shit themselves. It has turned the internet into one big menstruation play-by-play. Are you there, God, it’s me, THE ENTIRE FUCKING INTERNET.

Congrats on 500 posts!”

Shoebox Dweller:

“Once upon a time, a broken hearted woman wrote a message, slipped it into a bottle, and set it gently upon the water. Giving voice to her grief made her feel better, and so she continued writing, setting the words free.

Day after day, she watched the bottles drift away, destination unknown.

One day, she woke up and was amazed to find a bottle washed up on shore. She nervously unrolled the message, and read the words:

“I hear you. You are stronger and braver than you know, and I hear you.”

Words can make us laugh, sometimes so hard that we think we will burst. Words can make us cry, for our own sorrows and those of others we have never met.

Words bring people together who would otherwise never meet, for reasons of geography or age or any other divisive reason.

It’s been an honour to be a part of your life, your home, and most of all, to be part of the incredible community that you have created. Your creativity and humour brings people together, and that is a rare gift indeed.”

Jenn:

“When I first met LiLu at #pbtuna back in October, I was all nervous and intimidated and scared and “what if she hates me?!” I mean, come on people. The girl writes about poop at least once a week. What if I was too white bread because I kept my bowel movements to myself? Can you really blame someone for that sort of discretion?

Well kids, I’m going to let you in on a little top secret state secret. That girl who writes about farts and named her cat Axe Murderer? SHE’S A TOTAL SOFTIE.

That’s right. Total softie. Have you read her archives from when she first met B? (*cough* I’m a stalker *cough*). She’s quite lovable, this one.

Unless you’re a freak in a bar who won’t stop talking to her or her friends, in which case you should brace yourself because all that shit she keeps talking about? It’s coming straight for your face.”

Alexa:

“four words: penis shaped ice luge. i love you girl, and congrats on making it to 500! being the blog rockstar that you are, you’ll be hitting 1,000 before we know it. xoxo”

That Kind of Girl:

“One of the most incredible things about Lilu is how hard she works to make sure she individually welcomes every single person to the internet. Girlfriend’s such a comment whore she has to wear latex gloves when she types. Who among us hasn’t wondered how she has the friggin’ time to be a patron saint of and treasured friend to bloggers everywhere?

Pro tip: she saves time by forcing B to generate half of her posts. Can’t you just see him, locked in the bathroom, one cat duct-taped to each arm while Lilu force feeds him tequila and laxatives. “Come on, baby, next Thursday’s post won’t write itself. Give me two more cat jokes and one poop story, then we can negotiate your couch privileges…”

Completely worth it, Lilu (and hang in there, B — keep saying shiz, lest she feed you to Axie!). We love your blog, dude, and we love you.”

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***This idea inspired by my dear friend Katherine’s genius post a year ago- thanks for letting my blatantly steal it. XOXO***

Taking a day to work on an ohsospecial project that will be unveiled Wednesday- trust, it is THE Awesome- but go check out my DC Blogs round up!

Besos.

When I moved to DC, I was positive I was one of the so-called “transients” my parents warned me about. You see, they actually lived in NoVa when I was born, and moved up to Massachusetts when I was almost 2. They loved it here, but constantly saying goodbye to friends who were just passing through for an internship or to work on the Hill for a year, it broke their hearts.

I was afraid of this when I moved here after UNC, but at the same time, I figured I probably was one of them. That it’d be a year or two in DC before I craved a taste of NYC, or jetted across the pond to bartend in London.

I liked- even loved- the District as a city, but that didn’t make it “home.”

And then I met Lexa.

My relationship with B was a just few weeks old at the time, and growing fast… but a man doesn’t make a place home. B and I could move anywhere, if need be, and would still be US- our togetherness doesn’t depend on where we are.

But friends. Real Friends, that group of people you can count on…

…to turn your shitty days into jokes that end with a beer…

…to love your quirks instead of hate them…

…to despise and deprecate the people who’ve crossed you a thousand times more than you do yourself.

For me, DC didn’t become that place, didn’t become my home, until I met Lexa. We had lunch one day, and, well, I think it was probably the shoes she was wearing, but I just knew she would be incredibly important in my life.

The rest of the crew fell into place over the next year (the crowning jewel being us convincing Maxie to MOVE from West Virginia), and now I am humbled and grateful to say I have the most amazing, close-knit group of friends here.

I am that asshole who has it all. And don’t I know it.

All thanks to you, Lex. So Happy freaking Birthday, my love…

Now don’t you ever go transient on me.

Love your face.

My arrival to Boston last Thursday coincided with the following tweets…

“I’m on a plane to SEE him and my dad is still emailing me tardy cat videos. God, I love my family.”

“Well, hello, Bahstun. You’re looking very white. (Double entendres are fun!)”

“Just saw a cab in Boston called “The Ride”. I wonder if that was its Jersey Shore generated nickname.”

My dad and sister picked me up, and we sang holly jolly Christmas carols the whole way home… until a rendition of Silver Bells stopped us up.

Me: Hmmm. Is this Stevie Wonder?

Dad: No, it’s a woman singing.

Me: No way. It’s definitely a black man.

Dad: Listen to it, it’s absolutely a woman!

(we listen for a few moments…)

Dad: Actually… I think it’s Michael Jackson.

Me: So we’re both right!

We continued to battle the Mass Pike and finally made it home, where I was greeted at the door by this.

Clearly, this is the family from whence I came.

Love.

We had some of my family’s oldest friends over on Christmas Eve, where my mother shared her all-time FAVORITE joke with us… at the dinner table.

“What’s brown and sticky?”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“A stick.”

I won’t lie. I snarfed my meatball chowder at that one.

So, Christmas at my house has always been… a bit of a spectacle. I don’t know when or how it started, but every year, we have a “theme” of some sort. One year it’s sock monkeys, another it’s flamingos… you get the idea.

This year? It was ugly Christmas sweaters… and the most ridiculous hats my mother could find.

Trust me... it's a blessing that it's blurry.

The stockings, "by" the chimney with care.

Embracing my roots... however they may emerge.

Rocking my champagne, klassy style.

Just a little casual civilized chatter on Christmas morning.

This was from four people. FOUR. My family is insane.

All in all, it was the most perfect day in the world… just like it is every year.

/Schmoop.

Other tweetings through the weekend…

“I AM WATCHING JULIE AND JULIA WITH MY FAMILY AND GAIL THE SNAIL IS IN IT AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS. The pain. It is PALPABLE.”

“My father just referred to me as their (four pound) dog’s “big sister”. Apparently, I have some Yorkie in my bloodline I was unaware of.”

“My mom just downloaded Chumbawumba to her new Droid as a ringtone. … ‘Nuff said.”

“There is a girl who looks like @clevelandsaplum’s doppelganger across the restaurant. Trying to resist the urge to squee and hug her silly.”

“I feel like Blair Waldorf with my headband in this awesomely dirty Worcester bar.”

“Me, to sis: “Wanna go to Target?” Sis: “Mehhhhhhh… let’s go to WalMart instead… so I don’t have to put on pants.”

“THE DOLLAR TREE JUST RICK ROLLED ME. Love it!!!!”

Hope yours was just as- well, maybe HALF as- ridiculous as mine.

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Announcements:

1. I did the round-up for DCBlogs.com today! Check it out.

2.I won’t be doing a TMI Thursday tomorrow, as no one’s really around… but we’ll be back in full force next week with another Post Secret version. Keep sending ‘em in!

3. Hey… did you get a chance to vote for me on 20SB yet? Just sayin.

***SCHMOOP ALERT***

Yesterday, I decided to be brave and see just how many blogs I’ve subscribed to in my best friend Google Reader. So I pulled my Big Girl Panties (capitalized per request of Lusty Reader) up and peeked.

1,081.

I have over a THOUSAND of you hanging out in there.

(Everybody wave!. Group picture- say cheeeeeeeeeeeese. Hey- who yelled “war paint“!)

Anytwaddle.

Now, it’s not like I actually read all of those regularly. That would be impossible. Duh.

But if I like your stuff. If I LOVE your stuff. If you’ve said you like mine. If I’m on your blogroll.

In you go.

Yes, I have categories. My absolute best friends. My simply must reads. My most regular commenters. The fashionistas, the mommies, the funnies, the sexies, the foodies (who generally hate to be called foodies), and the hot messes (holla!)

I have a system, and I think it works. I try to pay my respects as often as I can to those who stop by my wee corner. I love seeing what everyone in my network is up to, what they’re thinking about, what they need opinions on. Lord knows I love giving an opinion.

(Fifteen of you just snorted. I HEARD THAT.)

The variety in my readership is absolutely insane, and I adore it. The fact that such a diverse group of people congregate here is both humbling and awesome.

Basically, I love you, man.

(If no one says “totes magotes” in the comments, we’re through.)

I love the angry open letters, the random yet hysterically funny, the omg my kid totally stuck his hand in his diaper and smeared it all over the wall, the classic run on sentence peppered with hilarious “Also?”s, a la Jenny the Bloggess. I love the Honest Scraps, the RANTS, the (creative) memes, and when tough people get mushy on us. I love when someone you’ve been reading forever reaches a huge life milestone and it hits you, you FEEL for them, because you actually know them through their words.

The other day, Maxie and I talked about whether we would retire anytime soon. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- I really don’t think I’m going anywhere.

Obviously, there’s a selfish aspect to it. I won’t lie- there’s definitely a degree of validation involved. But more than that, it’s the interaction I crave. I post as frequently as I do because I miss you guys on the days I don’t. Lame, perhaps, but true.

So, sure, if no one was out there reading, I would post less. But I wouldn’t quit, because at the end of the day, this place is a chronicle of my twenty something years. I hope to mark all of my own milestones here. And having a record of my crazy ass life that I can look back on, reminisce, and shake my head at myself in 30 years? That, my dear friends, is absolutely priceless.

***Update: Doods! My site caught swine flu and was down all day yesterday. It should be up and running fine now- vaccinate your children!- but do me a solid and let me know if you notice anything wonky, mmmkay? Xoxo***

Anyhoo. Today shall be a better day. My morning started like this:

Coworker: How old is your little sister?

Me: 21. No, wait, 22. CRAP, no, she’s TWENTY THREE!!!!

Coworker: (laughing at me) Oh, so you’re ancient, right?

(Actually, exactly what I’d been thinking was “Holy fuck, I’m OLD.”)

My baby sister turns 23 years young today. The hooker will always be younger than me, but somehow, I love her anyway.

Dear Sis,

I’m sorry for the time I dislocated your arm. (Accident! But still.)

I really miss making LEGO worlds with you.

I'm pretty sure it looked something like this. Boys drool!

I wish I’d let you play with the Barbies that still had hair more often.

Oh, and stolen less of, um, ALL your toys.

I love how ridiculously smart, funny, and compassionate you are. (Mostly the funny. You make me laugh like no other. But I can make you snarf milk through your nose, so we’re even.)

I’m proud of you for knowing yourself so well. You’re one of the few who never seemed to struggle with that angsty existential crisis so many of us do in our formative years.

(Guess I took on that burden for you…)

Ahem!

My only complaint about you? That you haven’t watched Always Sunny.

There’s a present for you in the mail… you have no excuse now, my dear.

(Um, surprise?)

Happy Birthday, Lil Sis.

Pay no attention to the Kate Gosselin style highlights, please and thank you.

P.S. Moog, Mike, Narm, JP, and most other readers with penii… I am just waiting for you to make some joke about banging my sister. MY MOM READS THIS. Just a friendly reminder.

(Now they’re going to make a joke about banging my mom. Warning FAIL.)

P.P.S. If you’re a blogger in the DC area, you should be a member of the free Washington, DC Blogger Meetup group. The lovely Lexa and I are hitting up their Meetup tonight at Madame’s Organ around 7, and we’d love to see you there too.

Don’t forget to RSVP if you’re coming!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell,bout someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

Things are going to be a little different around here today. Don’t worry, all your regular vomitous programming is still linked down below for your enjoyment… but in light of the date, it doesn’t seems appropriate for me, today. (Though it will probably still make you throw up a little bit.)

That said… thanks for going on this ride with me. Both today, and for the past months…

A year ago today, George W. (unknowingly) accomplished one of the best things he did while in office.

If B hadn’t gone to the President’s Dinner… if I hadn’t decided to stop for an after-dinner drink… if he hadn’t taken his interns for a drink afterwards… if I hadn’t stayed for one more… so easily, we could have missed each other. So many ‘ifs’.

But we didn’t. And my whole world changed that day.

I changed.

People say when someone really loves you, it’s for you, implying you shouldn’t have to change. Pardon my French, but that’s a load of bullcrap.

He does love me, every inch of me, for the crazy ass woman that I am. He shows me that every day, in big and small ways. And I show him, albeit at inopportune moments, sometimes.

But when I met him, it made me (to steal a line from Jack) want to be better. A BETTER me.

I stopped being a proud person, and started being proud of myself. The difference is subtle, but vital.

I traded my nights of bartending and bar hopping for Arrested Development marathons and meeting his friends.

The maneater vanished, and a little girl with a big heart was all that was left.

I’ve grown so much with him. Friends, family, probably a lot of you guys out there, thought we were nuts when we moved in together after three months… And I’m sure it looked looked crazy as hell from the outside. But to us, it felt like we waited an eternity. It just made perfect sense. WE never questioned what we were doing. It was obvious, it was right, it was, most importantly, effortless.

We’ve fought. We’ve been tested. We’ve been scared. But we won. Every time, we won.

And I’ve been able to savor every minute of it on here, in writing, so that I’ll have it for always. That, to me, is priceless.

Other blogs seem to vanish when a singleton falls in love… I’ve never understood this phenomenon. I can’t explain it, but for me, this little corner here flourished when I found him. He inspires me, he makes me laugh; with him, I’ve created a life that I want to share.

I really don’t see how it could be coincidence that I started this blog a few short months before meeting him… and therefore have just so happened to be able to chronicle our first year together.

Yes, I say first. Because as he tells me more often than he probably wants these people to know, he’s planning on many more.

And so am I.

Oh, and on a regular TMI note… I’m wearing a slutty dress out tonight with nothing underneath. You’re welcome, darling!

Other awesomely hilarious TMIs this week…

cavy’s TMI thursday: captain puke-a-lot

WickedCourtni’s TMI Thursday: You Just Love My Doggystyle?

jen-tsk’s TMI Thursday: When Peeing Yourself Can Be Sexy

Cameron’s TMI Thursday: Heavy Petting Edition

Sebastian’s Goo. All Over His Face.

BigSis’ TMI Thursday: The Strip Club

iNDefatigable mjenks’ TMI Thursday: One Firth the Money

Jaxie’s An Ode to TMI Thursday

Jassie’s TMI Thursday-Cherry Poppin’ Good

Cheddar’s TMI Thursday: Some Men are Dogs

Olga’s TMI Thursdays: Frugal Beauty, or Things You Should Never Wax By Yourself

justjp’s WRW Edition of TMI Thursday

Liebchen’s TMI Thursday: Rounding the bases

Vittoria’s TMI Thursday: When I think about Vertical Horizon I touch myself

ClaireMMD’s tmi thursday: oops, i did it again

LifeRehab’s TMI Th

ursday: Sloppy Seconds

JFo’s TMI Thusday: Flip Cup Bandits

Jo’s TMI Thursday – French Fingers

Mb’s I’m going to steal 4 minutes of your life

Mel’s Saved by a… train?

Stefanie’s TMI Thursday-Read At Your Own Risk

mylittlebecky’s think little of me (TMIT)

MsDarkstar’s TMI Thursday – It’s in the bag

verybadcat’s TMI Thursday: Pete

Tabitha’s TMI Thursday: A Guest Vlog from My Beau

Hillbilly Princess’ TMI Thursday: It’s Sexy to ME

Zan’s TMI Thursday: The Launch of the Crotch Rocket…