The League

Golly, I kinda feel like with all the hype I've inadvertently (twice) given The League that it should be this super-awesome club, like Lady Fight Club.

Which I will totally start after this blog post.

That said, I think I'm ready to explain The League.

It's me. And Elle. Shenanigan and Rawr are members, too.

We have coffee mugs. And we drink out of them. While gossiping.

Ahhh, you say. Therin lies the dragon.


No, dummy. We dislike reptiles. We're more of the fuzzy kitten, or cute puppy variety.

Gossiping, Em. That is the fundamental reason for you ladies getting together.


Oh. Well. I wouldn't exactly call it gossiping, per se. We share information. About all kinds of things. People. Stuff we see. Things other people say about people we love that make us want to punch them in the face.

We were going with the 62nd Street Gang for a while, but I think it petered off around the time we realized it was just ridiculous for a bunch of grown women to walk around throwing pot holder gang signs and tagging recipes on the walls of our neighbors houses.

Rawr was the one designing shirts for it. We had to shut it down before it got out of hand.

Elle was actually the one that came up with The League. Three out of the four of us happen to have some pretty strong viking heritage and Elle just figured that it would be less intimidating for others if we went with the whole pillaging background instead of the murderous rage one.

Which, while I'm talking about it, is pretty hard to differentiate regardless.

No matter.

We're vikings. But tonight, we are effing Valkyrie.