My Ghetto Grill

My orthodontist told me today that I frustrate her more than any other patient. I’M FINALLY THE BEST AT SOMETHING, YOU GUYS!

I probably wouldn’t have needed braces again if I had diligently worn the retainers my orthodontist handed me in a durable yet discreet carrying case from my first four-year stint with chains all up on my teeth with a warning to “wear these motherfuckers every night so you don’t waste your parents’ hard-earned money, you little weasel.” Actually, those weren’t Dr. Chu’s exact words, but if you had an orthodontist named Dr. Chu, would you remember anything he said? OR would most of your headspace be consumed with questions about whether he only chose his profession because of his last name or if orthodontia was a calling he decided to pursue after turning away from his real passion of selling refurbished Datsuns?

Also, I was 16 years old. I remember nothing from that time except that I wore this beige dress with a side zipper that my mother got from an outlet mall in San Antonio, and I forgot to zip it up before school one day and not one goddamn person told me until after lunchtime. I was sporting large comfort saggy-bottom underwear that day. And it was 88 degrees. I guess memories do come back in waves once you’re brave enough to break down the walls you’ve so carefully assembled to guard your fragile psyche.

Am I getting too deep? It’s one of my faults.

Laziness is another one of my faults. I stopped wearing my retainers because the durable yet discreet carrying case had a pretty tough clasp and exerting that kind of energy before bedtime is just not the kind of life I’d envisioned for myself.

I fought against remarks that my teeth weren’t “that bad” and “it’s only one crooked tooth” and “you’re so vain,” but vanity, well, vanity is also another fault of mine.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I have a lot of faults but my teeth are really fucking straight now, so who cares if I’m imperfect on the inside.¬†Self-improvement is a beast. That’s why I’ve decided to only tackle the things you can see.

P.S. I just finished I’m Not Saying, I’m Just Saying by Matthew Salesses. I didn’t like it. I LOVED IT. I was unfamiliar with flash fiction before reading the novel, but it was perfect for my on-the-go schedule and my short attention span (another one of my faults). Salesses’s beautiful writing about a man who discovers that he has a 5-year-old son is honest and raw. Good read, y’all.

P.P.S. Hood Good #3: Holler At Your Peoples Metallic Greeting Cards
HG3AThese spectacular metallic motherfuckers were created one by one in a historic mill town in Massachusetts. Only send these to people you really like. These fuckers are too nice for stupid bitches.

Also available:

To order, please visit the Hood Goods Store page for more information.

images via Instagram (username: flourishinprogress)

Hood Good #2

First things first: If you haven’t checked out the Hustle Hard Interview with Felicity Huffman
on love, commitment, and rap music, you totally should.
Huffman is legit. Mad respect.
Occasionally, Flourish in Progress reveals one custom created, very limited production



50 Buttercream
50 Peppermint

These all natural lip balms were handmade with love in small batches
by a trill ass soapmaker in the Midwest.

These bitches are 0.5 oz. and larger than most lip balms.

Thug Blend: sweet almond oil, cocoa butter,
beeswax, natural oils, & vitamin E oil

No added colors or sweeteners.

TO ORDER: Email hoodgoods at flourishinprogress dot com
Please include your name, shipping address,
scent desired (buttercream or peppermint), & number of balms

Cost: $7.50 + $2.50 S/H (ea. additional balm: $1 for S/H)
Currently only shipping into the continental U.S.

P.S. Last month, the Thug Pencil Set sold out real damn quick
and I had to put a notice on the page that said, “SOLD OUT,
ACT FASTER NEXT TIME, THUGS,” but y’all still kept emailing.
I ain’t a magician. Please do not email if it says sold out.
I really got none left.

Want first dibs on future Hood Goods?
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