The blogger spilling her issues today had made an appearance on this blog many times, but super secret like some super secret spy ninja.
You see, Noa from Oh Noa is the chairwoman, founder and super secret spy ninja leader of “The League of Funny Bit*ches Council” that I am proud to be part of.
In addition to pretending to be my friend, Noa inspires (commands) me to put away the snark for at least one post a month and put on my serious face—a face that basically says, “Resting bit*ch face is really a thing”—and write about her monthly focus topic.
So in some way if you haven’t read her blog before, you already kind of know Noa. And the best part? You can blame her for the crap that I put on this blog at least once a month.
Win-win!
At any rate, here she is in all her glory.
Name: Noa Dangerballs Gavin
Blog: Ohnoa.com, Oh Noa and The League Of Fu*#in’ Bitches
Where, what and why do you write?
I can write pretty much anywhere, but mostly at my coffee table, sitting on the floor like I’m living in Japan and not sad in Texas. I write a lot of different things: comedy sketches, inspirational things, journals, short stories, novels. I’M A DABBLER. I write because it’s honestly the only thing that keeps me sane. I associate with the world through stories, so without them, I feel very alone.
First thing you think of when you wake up in the morning.
I want an effin’ taco.
What’s the one “issue” or frustration annoying you the most right now?
Women’s rights to make me sound cool (and also because people freaking hate women and that shit needs to stop.) The biggest one I faced today was the fact that chip companies cannot seem to standardize the taste of a barbecue potato chip, and screw that.
Three websites you visit every day.
Cracked, Listverse, Slate.
What’s an unusual talent and/or accomplishment you could never put on a resume?
I was once in a bizarre sort-of-fight-club when I worked at Best Buy. I worked for another huge corporation within Best Buy and I got to be friends with some guys who were fighters, and I wished I was. So, one night we got drunk at one of their houses and they said, “Let’s start a fight club,” because that’s what drunk white boys do. So we did-and I wasn’t terrible. I lost, of course, and ended up with ALL the bruises, but I didn’t back down.
(Editor’s note: Umm…I got nothin’ with this one.)
Favorite place to be?
Outside on a warm patio with a cool breeze, a beer and a cigar and no mosquitoes. Preferably by an ocean. Or lake. River. Pond. A general feeling of water.
(Another editor’s note: I’m no expert, but if you’re looking for an escape from mosquitoes, you probably want to avoid the water when it’s warm outside. Then again, maybe the cigar smoke would ward them off? Carry on as you were…)
If you could rule the land for one day, what laws would you create and enforce?
1) Everyone retakes the driver’s license exam every 10 years. You fail, you lose it forever. Driving is a privilege, not a right. People are so, so terrible at driving and I am tired of watching out for others on the roads.
2) Outlawed focus groups for movies and TV. They’ve done too much damage to the world of entertainment.
3) All grocery stores deliver. I hates it.
(Another note: 1) Yes, except I could be the exception. 2) Let’s just ban groups in general. For everything. 3) Considering I live at the grocery store, I can’t believe we’re friends.)
What TV show would you want to appear on?
Animated? Attack on Titan or Fullmetal Alchemist. Not-Animated? Top Gear. I want a chance at The Stig.
Best and worst things I could find in your refrigerator right now?
I just moved, so best: food. Worst: non-food item that I cannot ID.
What question do you wish I had asked you and what would be your reply?
Do you love tacos? OH MY GOD I LOVE TACOS SO MUCH, ABBY. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TACOS ARE? TINY MEXICAN SANDWICHES THAT CRUNCH AND ARE SPICY. YOU CAN PUT ANYTHING IN A TACO WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES. TACOS ARE THE SPIRIT OF MY LIFE.
Well there you have it. A taco-loving, punch-throwing feminist with unidentifiable food in her fridge and mystery bruises. Go show her some love after playing our little game:
Tacos are to Noa as (insert food of choice here) are to you. And…go!
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