5 Reasons You Shouldn’t Read The Perks of Being an Artist

Regular readers may recall a few months back my quest for blogging supremacy began by taking down The Phil Factor. And, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, Phil has been completely wiped from the internet and today lives in the dreadful world of blogging obscurity. My goal was to continue the takedown of every other blogger on the world wide web until I was the sole ruler of Blogdom.

Then, life got in the way, as it does. There was the tumor recurrence that wasn’t. Then, the steroids. My god, the steroids. The packing, the moving, and all those Trump emails. I had so much going on I almost forgot I was in the middle of taking over the world. Things have settled down enough now that I can finally set my sights on my next victim. And that special person is none other than Emily from The Perks of Being an Artist.

Here are the five reasons you should absolutely, positively not read The Perks of Being an Artist:

Reason #1: She once tried to poison* me with a bag of Skittles – Perhaps “poison” is a strong word, but I’m thoroughly convinced something was up that day. Who meets you for coffee, is completely kind, and brings a sugary treat as a present? Obviously someone with a screw loose or an axe to grind. We met over 6 months ago and I consumed the entire bag of Skittles within an hour of receiving them. I haven’t died yet, so clearly she is a mastermind that used slow acting poison to throw the scent off her trail. But I know she did it. I’m sure I’ll be gone soon. I should keel over any minute now.


On the left, photographic evidence of evil personified. And let’s be real, it’s on the right as well.

Reason #2: She wrote a book and it’s beautiful – Emily wrote a book chronicling her father’s battle with dementia. It includes many of her original works of art. It’s a lovely creation, but you definitely shouldn’t read about it and purchase it by clicking on this link. Remember, she tried to poison* me. Don’t buy books from this lady.


Reason #3: She’s an artist. I know. I know. I’m freaked out too –  Artists, by and large, are a menace to society. They’re colorful, creative, and free spirited. Their sole motivation for waking each day is to spread beauty for all to see. Appalling, right? I’ve had the misfortune of seeing some of Emily’s work with my own two eyeballs. I’m getting a little nauseous thinking about it now. If you dare, you can check out and even purchase her original artwork at Vida, CafePress, Redbubble, and Fine Art America. If you’re curious to see how she creates her mayhem you can watch her on her very own YouTube channel.

Reason #4: As if the artist thing weren’t bad enough, she’s also into tattoos. TATTOOS, PEOPLE! – Emily and her husband have recently opened a tattoo studio in Cary, North Carolina and I have been there. I was surprised to find it wasn’t like a cellblock at Folsom Prison, but I think they were just putting up a front. Emily claims to want to help people who’ve experienced hair loss and other changes due to chemotherapy and other various health issues, so she learned how to apply permanent makeup. But don’t forget she wanted to poison* me, so that’s probably a big lie. While permanent makeup is her specialty at her shop, Ratatat Tats, she is now apprenticing to learn traditional tattooing. Here is some of her work:

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Reason #5: She’s a big fat meanie head who also tried to poison* me with a tote bag: It’s clear the slow acting Skittles poison wasn’t working well enough for Emily because she sent a tote bag to my home for no reason other than to be kind and funny. In my 45th birthday post I made a little joke about being sad that I wasn’t old enough to get an AARP tote bag, so she sent me one and it’s totally going to poison me. Now, you may be asking yourself, how exactly does one poison another person with a tote bag? I don’t know. I haven’t worked out the specifics, but I know the thing is laced with something deadly. Sure, it hangs at by my bedside every single night and even the cat hasn’t fallen ill, but just like the Skittles, I know it’s coming. This chick’s got it in for me.


The joke is just trying to deflect the fact that she’s trying to poison* me.

So, there you have it. You can’t possibly in good conscience read The Perks of Being an Artist after knowing all these awful things. You definitely won’t like her Facebook page (or the Facebook page or her tattoo studio). For the love of all things holy, don’t follow her on Instagram. And you certainly don’t want to visit her tattoo shop, Ratatat Tats, located at 300 Parkthrough Street in Cary, North Carolina. You won’t want Emily to use her skills as an artist to apply permanent makeup on you or tattoo you. Or have their lead tattoo artist, Julio, work on you. No. Never.

And that is that. Perks of Being an Artist is done. Take your seat next to Phil, Emily. Another one has fallen and I am that much closer to total blogging supremacy, assuming the poison* doesn’t kick in before I knock everyone else out of contention.

*Obviously Emily hasn’t poisoned me. That is one serious allegation, isn’t it? Let’s just say Emily *wink wink nudge nudge* poisoned me (with heavy air quotes indicating that I can’t prove she actually poisoned me but I know she’s kinda shady a little bit and maybe thought about doing it once or twice).