poser mobile
better nate than lever... (anyone get that?)
[poseurs] here's a big shout out to the losers in the second row! say "hey!" now screeeeam...
you thought i was
kidding. alas, i was not.
foodstrology
it's no secret that i love food. i love cooking, i love eating, i love reading and lately i've been loving to laugh about it. thanks to the amateur gourmet. check out today's post:
food astrology. and like everything in the history of the world, it's funny because it's true.
the sun is deceiving
it's bright and sunny outside right now. yet it's only in the mid 50s. ugh.
the
new girl is totally skeeving me out. she's still mumbling but now she's added a half-eye stare. try it. open your eyes halfway and then stare at someone. give it a full 30 seconds. i'll bet they get the shivers and stop speaking to you for a while.
ooh, viggo.
[violence] bloody good, i say.
before i went to see this last night i extended the invitation to two other girls, who both responded with "ooh, viggo." indeed. i really want to dish on the movie but i don't want to give anything away. so just go watch it. it was worth the $10.75 manhattan ticket price. yep. that good. great acting, great directing, great everything. and ooh, viggo.
freezing friday
it's still september. barely, but technically still september. then why the hell is it so cold outside?
here's some music to keep you warm. well not really warm, unless you're rubbing up against your computer (which i wouldn't advise, especially if you're a dude and you have a laptop). so here's some music to keep you occupied...
oh fine by
the french kicksno way out by
immaculate machinedeath of a rockstar by
immaculate machinestraight through you by
the morning after girlsblue hearted fool by
theviolettesking of rock a run dmc charlie chan megamix
there. that should get you through the day. or at least 45 minutes.
bougie blood
my big bro and i were complaining about how our parents are on a cruise right now and probably enjoying ridiculous amounts of gourmet food. meanwhile i was eating a sub par ham sandwich and he was stuck in class (he's in law school in san diego). a couple minutes ago, he just told me that he had a bagel and a smoothie for lunch. next thing i know he'll be having free range chicken on a bed of organic spring mix with an antioxidant soy wheatgrass frappaccino. what a frickin' yuppie.
(alas, my brother is now reading my blog so everybody say "hi" and henceforth expect a pg-13 rating)
new(ish) computer!
[powerbook] i'll bring it to starbucks. everyone will like me.
my cousin is giving me her old powerbook titanium g4. i can stop pretending to be a mac junkie. as of this saturday morning, i will officially be a bonafide cool kid. yessss.
i is stupid
first of all, i wore flip flops and a skirt today... it was a semi-sunny yet slightly chilly morning. it is now a biblically rainy afternoon. secondly, i filed away the audit folders today (thank the lord it's over) and somehow managed to cut my hands in four places. and then, just now, i accidentally replied all with a snarky comment to one of the other assistants. something about having meetings in her pig sty of a cube. there may have been an expletive. i reiterate: i need a vacation.
taste the rainbow
that sounded fine in my head because i just imagined it whispered as it was in the skittles commercial, but somehow when it's typed out it just looks like a preface to a bad gay joke. i'm sorry.
anyway, our multimedia department is doing a photoshoot for a website right now in the artroom, which is directly behind my desk. they're shooting candy... skittles arranged in different shapes, twizzlers spelling out random words, towers of chocolate, etc. i can't decide if i keep staring at them because of the tempting candy or the tempting cute boy taking the pictures of the tempting candy. it's all too muchery.
saints and i love this band
[saints and lovers] i want to pet them. and then put them in my pocket.
i don't know how i came across this
band. sometimes i acquire so much random music (my ipod gets around) that i don't remember where i got it from (kinda like a hooker with an std). but anyway, i was sitting in the subway this morning when a saints and lovers song came on. it filled my head with melodic pleasure (akin to erotic pleasure, but a bit more satisfying). it was like jeff buckley passion with u2 grandeur. i was enamored (you don't know this but i just typed that really slowly with dramatic pauses and emphatic finger gestures). then and there i made a vow to google them as soon as i got to work. and i did. and i found out that they play in new york. (yay). in fact, they played last night. (boo). but they'll play again. (yay). october 12 at scenic. who's with me?
here's a little taste. i'm gonna go buy the record as soon as it comes out. yeah, i said
buy. it's that good.
atmospherelike it was yesterdaymona by the windowkiss it goodbyeit's youdecember
r.e.m.iniscing
i've been going though my ipod in attempt to weed out the old and bring in the new. so to do that, i've hooked it up to my work computer and played the entire library on random. and random it has been. sometimes good, sometimes bad, and quite often quite shameful. but there have been a few that automatically take me back to the time when i used to play said song on repeat (and most likely sing at the top of my lungs). here's a few that have sparked mini time warps in the last couple hours.
"everybody hurts" by your favorite blue eye stripe sporting politico (and mine) takes me back to fifth grade... a time when the drama of being ten years old was so overwhelming that i needed to find solace in the fact that everybody (indeed) hurts.
"undone (the sweater song)" off the weezer blue album. andrea, ryann and i would sing it all the time, not knowing or caring what the words even meant. and i still don't know, or really care for that matter.
oh no, it go, it gone, bye bye (hii)"i alone" by live. oh man. we used to scream along to the whole throwing copper album at christy erickson's infamous sleepover parties where we'd t-p her neighbors but do a really crappy job of it because we were only 4 feet tall.
"grace" by the one and only jeff buckley. i cried when i listened to this album. it's that good. if you don't have it, you should. i will make you a copy and send it to you.
"ride with me" by the trademark then-bandaided dirty south rapper/actor/soon-to-be reality show star. oh the memories of freshman year in college. taking hours to get ready to go use our fake ids downtown but end up back on campus at some generic frat party. visions of black pants and peacoats and sugarplums dance in my head.
your turn.
prey day
there's a woman in my department who is always the most effusively gracious when it's pay day. everytime i hand her the check, she says, "thank god it's pay day. they keep calling me." now, here's her situation: she's a senior manager (which means that she makes over double my salary). she lives in a co-op in grammercy park (swank) with her rich sister. she doesn't blow her money on extravagant material goods. yet she's apparently in non-secretive debt. which gets me thinking... maybe she's addicted to online poker but she really sucks at it. or maybe she needs to bail herself out of jail every weekend for barfighting. or maybe she has a drug habit. or maybe she is being blackmailed for brutally murdering a pigeon. or maybe she's paying hospital bills for her sick great aunt, in which case i should probably just shut up. now.
rebel rebel
my body is rebelling against me with an arsenal of heartburn and headache.
i need a vacation.
jack white needs a home
and meg white needs to give me her job.
[stripes] if only all ex-spouse faux brother and sister slightly creepy detroit rock duos could be this darn cute
went to the white stripes concert last night at keyspan park courtesy of the most awesomest of awesomes, andy and gordon. we got hooked up with the luxury box. yes, i know, i am a spoiled concert brat.
here's how the night progressed:
so after sprinting through my hood, hurdling garbage bags and little old chinese women, i met up with the group in williamsburg to take a car to the island of the coney. naturally, we had to stop at nathan's. unnaturally, we waited for almost 30 minutes in line. but the dogs were worth it.
we get to the suite about halfway through the shins set (which was good, but i've seen them before and they were really far away, so i cared somewhat less). the judes and i go exploring, only to find that everyone is either in their respective seats or in some sort of line. restroom, atm, beer, food, ice cream, merchandise... all lines. is that how stadium concerts are nowadays? whatever happened to the time where people mingled and loitered? there wasn't even the slightest crawl of a muck, let alone a run. it was a bit strange. but whatever, we were in the luxury box. so we said, "away with the common folk!" and went back into the elevator.
the the jack and the meg took to the stage. i like meg white. she's an inspiration to all mediocre drummers out there, like me. and jack, well he's one step away from being the michael jackson of garage rock. he was wearing some sort of hipster bastardization of a bull fighting costume. but he rocked. she rocked. they rocked. and rocked. and paused. and then rocked some more.
quote of the night:
why you gotta claustraphobic her?
dear blog, i'm getting sick...
of you.
so i hope you don't think me treacherous, but i was mulling (didn't that make you think of cider? no? how about now?) over a few different blog themes...
an introspective blog with posts that must start with vanilla ice lyrics. if you're thinking that this would be rather short-lived, then you have yet to be enlighted by the post-ice ice baby world of
the ice man. that's right, he's back and fred durstier than ever.
a photo blog with daily pictures of my physical ailments. it would be called "wound o' the day" (again, blog longevity comes from propensity to accidentally hurt myself).
a limerick blog. because that whole haiku thing is so two days
ago.
a blog of odes. where i make up songs about the first thing that comes to mind. yes, it will usually be whatever's on my desk surrounding my computer. but you never know what people can put on my desk (besides more mountains of work). like the other day, i received a rotting banana with a plastic knife through it. it may have been a death threat, or an invitation to make banana bread... i'm not a hundred percent sure. so anyway, this blog of songs would then be sold to diane warren, who will in turn have the
pop tart du jour lip sync to them on
snl. and then the royalties will start pouring in. yess...
thoughts?
you get what you give
tonight was fun. i actually got out of work at a decent hour and was able to catch a
movie with the judes and
chelsea. then we proceeded to have an adult beverage at the belmont. although i'd have to say that mine was a rather adolescent beverage due to its overwhelmingly dairy contents. so then we meet up with some other friends at pravda, an underground russian bar in nolita. and that's where i saw it.
a woman came in wearing not one, but two scrunchies in her hair. each at a different position in the ponytail scheme. of course i, the beeyotch that i am, point it out to the judes. we don't even get a full chuckle in when a split second later, i'm non-violently non-sexually whipped by something from behind. lo and obviously behold, it's the double scrunchied ponytail, avenging its overheard mockery. yeah, i totally deserved it.
and then i got carded by a cop on my way back to my apartment and almost stepped on an militant army of cockroaches. more cockroaches than chinese people in china. i yelped, did a little dance (like a cross between a jig and the mexican hat dance, if you were lacking a visual), and went on my somewhat less merry way home.
karmic? perhaps.
spring shows spring shows!
i know i'm a week overdue, but i've been busy playing filemaker monkey. it's no fun, i tell you.
so here's my fashion week recap:
gwen stefani's l.a.m.b. was good, but i think she (and everyone else) needs to know that track suits aren't fashion. i also wasn't a huge fan of ralph lauren's show - it was cute, but a bit recycled and somewhat predictable. as four had some innovative designs, but i'm totally not digging the formal mchammer pants. baby phat was cute (and i heard it was a really fun show), but kimora, please, gold, yellow and beige look good on about 25 people. in the world. tracy reese was interesting, if you like figure skating outfits made out of curtains and doilies. calvin was easy, breezy and beautiful, but nothing particularly special. anyhoo, here are some of my favs...
[herrera] you know i heart the pockets.
[mischka] also doubles as a parachute. a totally
fabulous parachute.
[marc jacobs] for nina, or sarah jessica parker.
[de la renta] i love the odd pairing.
[lhuillier] hott. yes, that was 2 t's.
[temperey] now i just need to work on getting long skinny legs.
fall shows fall shows!
as of 6:30pm today it will be fall.
the bad news? it's not summer anymore (duh).
the good news? (besides fall fashion) fall shows!
and as always, let me know if you wanna go...
sat 10/1 - pixies, gang of four, rilo kiley, built to spill, death from above, mando diao - keyspan park
sun 10/2 - oasis, jet, doves, lemonheads, kasabian, jessie malin - richmond county ballpark
tues 10/4 - athlete, the working title - bowery ballroom
wed 10/5 - decemberists, cass mccombs - webster hall
thu 10/6 - nada surf, say hi to your mom - bowery ballroom
thu 10/6 - stellastar - irving plaza
fri 10/7 - beck, whirlwind heat - hammerstein
fri 10/7 - raveonettes, radio 4 - warsaw
mon 10/10 - four tet, jamie lidell - bowery ballroom
wed 10/12 - new pornographers, destroyer - webster hall
fri 10/14 - john vanderslice, portastatic - knitting factory
wed 10/19 - death cab, youth group - hammerstein
sun 10/23 - juliette and the licks - bowery ballroom
sat 10/29 - moutain goats, prayers and tears of arthur digby sellers - bowery ballroom
fri 11/4 - the shout out louds - bowery ballroom *also my birthday!
sat 11/5 - spoooon - nokia theatre
sun 11/6 - the constantines - bowery ballroom
wed 11/9 - the black keys - irving plaza
mon 11/14 - the blind boys, cat power - tribeca perf arts cent
wed 11/16 - jeff tweedy - tribeca perf arts cent
sat 11/19 - american analog set, david bazan - merc
sun 11/20 - echo and the bunnymen, innaway - irving plaza
now i just need to figure out a way to get in for free...
don't stop til you get enough
all
haiku, all the time.
the world beard championships - exactly what it sounds like.
pets in uniform - quite possibly the creepiest. thing. ever.
sqaures is a game. a game that raises your blood pressure and may result in a heart attack. or at least a really loud explitive.
find your
phobia. leave a comment as to which one. i won't make fun of you, i promise. here's mine:
genuphobia - fear of knees
seplophobia - fear of decaying matter
tyranophobia - fear of tyrants
zemmiphobia - fear of the great mole rat
and my recent additions
buffetophobia - fear of jimmy buffet/jimmy buffet fans or fear of getting too full on a buffet (see: allyoucaneatsushiophobia)
fins to the left, crazies to the right
the judes and i went to the big apple to the big easy concert benefit last night at the garden. it was... interesting, putting it lightly. i was excited for lenny, elton, bette, paul, cyndi & elvis, but incredibly let down when they were only on stage for about 10 minutes. there were also some new orleans legends like irma thomas and the dixie cups. but for the other 5 hours and 50 minutes... jimmy buffet. and john fogerty. and the nevilles. i should have known. the crowd was clearly reliving their college days. i think i mentioned earlier that
indie kids can't dance. i take that back. jimmy buffet fans can't dance. there was a couple of frizzy haired females who looked like they were trying out for a nordic track infomercial. then there was the guy who was all but humping the chair in front of him, including the chair's much annoyed occupant. and this was just in my 10 foot radius.
and then there were these two fifteen year old girls standing in the aisle. i don't know if they were drunk or just run of the mill crazy, but one was crying hysterically and shouting "jimmy!" while reaching her arms to the stage and the other was just swaying (about 20% to the music and 80% to whatever's going on in her crazy little head) and offering multiple hugs to the crying girl. together, they were a smoking car wreck. the judes and i were thoroughly entertained.
and then there was another crazy about three rows in front of us. she apparently went to town and back at the merch table, as she was sporting the concert tee, multiple flashy colored light things, a million strands of beads and a mardi gras mask. note: she wore the mask the entire time. ubercreepy would be an understatement. she kept turning around and facing the back of the arena, waving her hands wildly, holding a flashing light ball attached to some beads. we turned around, thinking that she was waving to somebody or maybe even a boom camera, but alas, she was waving at nothing. periodically she would take her husband's camera and point it at some random place in the audience. then she'd wave some more. we decided that it was the ludes.
the new girl...
is an axe murderer.
i
knew she was a bit odd to begin with. she's too nice. like says "thank you so much" or "thanks again so much" or "really, thank you so much." i have yet to hear her say any variety of gratitude without qualifying it with a measurement. i thought it was just because she's new. but it's been over two weeks and she's still always smiling. what's wrong with her? she should be jaded and cynical by now.
i suspect she kicks puppies in her free time. and then maybe thanks them (so much) for being so docile and cooperative.
i have mush for brains
i've been number crunching and fact checking for days. i can't see straight. i can't even remember my own name when i answer the phone (i've said, "this is... uh... yeah, hello?" twice). my back hurts. i need a hug. and maybe a slice of red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
[velvet] yes please.
i ate a bug
last night i decided to stay in, play loud music, sing and dance around in my underwear and clean my room. as i'm putting my purses back on their hooks, i find a couple of reese's mini peanut butter cups. "jackpot!" i think to myself. i open the first one and see that the top is a little scraped, but i think nothing of it and pop it in my mouth. perhaps it was just because it was smashed in my purse or something. then i open the next one. i'm about to wipe off what i thought was a piece of foil on the top but then immediately drop the piece of peanutbuttery/chocolatey goodness because the "foil" started moving. i inspect it more closely and see that it was (to my horror and revulsion) a little baby bug. and it's little baby buggy friend. yeah, uh huh. two incredibly disgusting little baby maggotty bugs that were eating the chocolate, leaving little buggy scrape marks. which means i probably just ate their friend(s). (i'm shuddering right now just thinking about it). i don't like bugs. i certainly don't like eating bugs. so i scream. i hyperventilate a little. i run to the toilet and stick my finger down my throat. then i took three shots of whiskey, brushed my teeth and immediately went to bed.
this is a problem though, because now i'm quite torn on the topic of chocolate.
soak the bloke
living on top of san gennaro is kinda like living right next to an airport. it's convenient when you need to go, but for the other 364 days in the year it's annoying to the point of favoring an overdose of sleeping pills. ok, so in my case it's only 10 days, but if you heard what i have to deal with for those 10 days, you'd be pretty perturbed yourself.
i thought i'd be safe from the noise of the festivities with my backfacing apartment. apparently i am not - and in fact, quite the opposite. there's this game called
soak the bloke (reference the carney dictionary: see
drown the clown), where two players get their chances at pitching baseballs at a target in order to send a guy in a clown suit into the large tank of water below him. now i'm not sure how it is in other street fair situations, but this particular san gennaro bloke is the most. obnoxious. clown. ever. and he has a microphone. so he's shouting and taunting the players and the audience in a clown voice (note: less ronald mcdonald, more
it) through this pa system and to top it all off, the game is conveniently placed on the side street directly at the opening of the alleyway behind my building. loud and clear. lucky lucky me.
so i have a few ideas for a new game:
electrocute the bloke - throw live hairdryers, toasters, etc. into the mix.
scar the bloke - instead of pitching baseballs at the target, toss broken bottles directly at the clown.
shoot the bloke - with blanks, of course. you sicko.
curses!
and just in case you can't picture what i'm talking about:
[soak] death to clowns. hurrah. hurrah.
someone call me an ambulance
after i standing in line for two and a half hours for a cmj show (
robbers on high street,
cyhsy &
ambulance ltd), i had a revelation. i live in new york. these bands are from new york. i don't have to stand in line for two and a half hours to see a new york band in new york. but i did. i'm a sucker for the the sunk cost fallacy.
so we got in just in time to see ambulance. now i like them just as much as the next faux brit pop spring/summer 2005 lover, but i can't say that it was worth the wait. the only redeeming incident of the night was the free mini cheesesteak that i got at dopey bennys on the way home. because beef, onions and cheese is exactly what i needed at three in the morning.
old people rock too
[wrens] like the coolest uncles you never had
yeah i'm totally an agist for calling
the wrens old, but they are. and they know it too.
so i went to the wrens show and here's my reasoning: the arcade fire was playing summerstage. it was hot as balls outside and i didn't want to trek all the way uptown to sweat on a lawn and then sweat in the subway all the way home. then today i heard from someone who actually went that af was good but not fantastic (mostly because they were sitting outside of the gates and couldn't see inside - apparently af puts on a great stage show). so first we headed off to scenic to catch
the natural history,
foreign born and
tom vek but they were sold out (even though the skinny britster doorman told me that they weren't - insert shaking fist). so then we wandered over to the merc to see the wrens. surprisingly, it wasn't yet sold out. i soon found out why - tickets could only be purchased day of show and the opening bands sucked. all five of them. ok they didn't all suck, but it was collectively bad enough to force me to sit it out on the sidelines. but then the wrens came on (at 1am, mind you - pretty late for old guys) and totally redeemed the entire evening. in short, yay. indeed, they rocked.
psa of the night:
goblin cock is a band, not a pastime
work is work is work
i'm busy. surprised? yeah, me too.
too bad it's doing monkey business. and not the kind where you throw poop at celebrities. (i hope you got that outdate and banal reference - actually outdate and banal are pretty good descriptors of my life). i guess work is work and i shouldn't complain.
but i will.
wah!
google me this
type in "failure" and hit search.
here are your first two hits:
Biography of President George W. Bush
Biography of the president from the official White House web site.
www.whitehouse.gov/president/gwbbio.html - 29k - Cached - Similar pages
Past Presidents - Kids Only - Current News - President
Welcome to MichaelMoore.com!
Official site of the gadfly of corporations, creator of the film Roger and Me and the television show The Awful Truth. Includes mailing list, message board, ...
www.michaelmoore.com/ - 38k - Sep 13, 2005 - Cached - Similar pages
oh those crazy google people.
chick-chick-boom!
note this week as the one where jade's head explodes.
between the late nights at work, keeping up with fashion week (and by keeping up i mean checking out the runway highlights every morning online while i pretend to be busy checking e-mail and setting up meetings), and deciding which cmj shows to attend, the pressure is slowly building in my size seven and five eighths head.
honestly, how do people go to all the cmj shows? t to the d-o and i have figured out a few (mostly at merc lounge because it's close, it's a great space and we're too lazy to check out anything else), but i'm a little torn on thursday, which turns out to be the day that everyone i want to see are playing at the exact same time...
the wrens and dudley corp @ merc
dungen and diamond nights @ bowery
arcade fire @ summerstage (sitting outside - so not if it's raining)
tom vek, natural history, foreign born and the constantines @ scenic
world leader pretend and the like @ sin-e
which one should we go to?
i think i'm going to wear a hat tomorrow, just in case.
en-balmed
if you've ever hung out with me then you know that i am addicted to lip balm.
enter
lip medic:
[lip medic] en-amored
over 500 lip balms. i... have no words... i... oh man.
in case you want to join in the addiction, here are some recommendations:
[bitch] it's peachy and delicious.
[rosebud] even citizen kane agrees.
[kiehl's] i call this one unisexbomb.
[dior] two words: caramel apples.
[carmex] the original gangsta. much love.
internet radio killed the radio star
check ch check check check, check it out...
radio indie pop - uh, no explanation needed
van mega - pinnacle of cool
better propaganda - waay better than communism
you can thank me later, you soon to be indie savant.
mysterious skin
so i went to a clinic this morning to check out what's going on with my bum hand. after sitting in the waiting room for two hours, i finally got to see a registered nurse. the nurse looked at my hand and then called in the doctor. the doctor looked at my hand and called in another doctor (quite comforting, might i add). then two more nurses and three doctors later (i was surprised that they didn't call in the receptionist or the janitor), i walked out of there with a referral to a dermatologist and a promise to call them back and let them know what exactly was wrong with me. because, apparently, inquiring minds are want to know about disgusting skin anomalies. yay. i'm a freak.
sugarhigh
gotta have it, really need it to get bytwo jamba juices and one jumbo black and white cookie.
i wanna kiss myself goodbye
cmj
[cmj] just found out that it means college music journal. i totally didn't even bother to find out. i just wanna see the shows man! yeah, i'm such a sheep.
i'll be going to a few shows, banking that everyone else will get lost on their way to the mercury lounge and leaving tickets available for my i-don't-get-out-of-work-til-9 ass. ugh. this week is gonna suck/rule/suck.
stress = chocolate chip cookies
but oddly enough what i really want is corn on the cob. perhaps a little visit to cafe habana on the way home. yum.
grr
i'm feeling a bit angry today. perhaps it's the san gennaro trucks that rolled into my hood this morning at 5am and started laying down wood for the zeppoli and fried oreo stands. perhaps it's the creepy new assistant. perhaps it's my three sunburnt fingers that now look like the worst. thing. ever. perhaps they're infected. perhaps perhaps perhaps.
so the new assistant came around to introduce herself and she gave me a post-it pad that says "each day is a gift" and my first reaction was to shove it down her throat. instead, i thanked her. perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm.
the new girl
there's a new assistant in the department.
she talks to herself.
it's totally freakin me out.
le chic, c'est freak
chelseagirl and i are bored. we're putting together an ensemble. a
very fashionable ensemble.
this is what we'll call urban abominable snowchick...
[bcbg] don't worry, it was made with only the ill-tempered little bunnies. and they weren't really that cute either.
[sharnelle] those damn minks were pretty ornery too.
[wilson's] leather, because it's important to have standards, no matter how low. and because cows taste good too.
and for the ficticious pillaging of murray hill and similar hoods overrun by domestic animals and overall bougeois-dom...
[mukluk] neither muk nor luk. i just don't get it.
or for a night on the town. bungalow 8, perhaps? just watch out for the paparazzi, abominable snowchick. and the waify models who may mistake you for a giant fluffy line of coke and attempt with all their willowy might to shove you up their frail plastic noses...
[marc jacobs] marc, i used to have so much faith in you. dashed, i say. dashed!
of course, the accessories. what would an abominable snowchick be without her accessories? nothing. she'd be nothing...
[boa] all class.
because "brr, i'm cold, hand me a dead fox" is best accented with a bandeau and a strategically placed under-the-right-cheek-hole in her jeans.
[ugg] indeed.
and for night:
[luca] because pink is the new peta
and for the topping of all toppings in the history of toppings:
[fur outlet] please, i implore you to find one person who enjoys wearing a skinned animal as a tight fitting cap. please. just one.
i'm a bitch i'm lover i'm a yeti undercoverwait wait wait, i'm not done...
[fun fur] this makes joseph's dreamcoat look like a khaki trench.
the model looks so uncomfortable. like the jacket is slowly sucking her soul away.
ugg
as in ugg-ly. but this isn't about uggs because that would be too obvious. it's about my recent stumbling upon the uggliest shoes ever:
[uggly] ankle wraps - because
that makes it look better
and to top that off, the name of the shoe is "naughty monkey crescent." um, yeah, i kid you
not.
[more uggly] copper, pewter, or your basic barff--i mean, black
hey you, the west chelsea pied piper called, i'm sure you know what he wants. i'll give you a hint: it's not your children.
[even more] to wear to your next cherry poppin daddies zoo benefit
these are the new birkenstocks designed by heidi klum. what? really? you know, heidi, there are better things to do with your famous name. (ghost)write a book. open a restaurant. make a record. have more babies. anything. just please, for the love of god and all things that are holy, step away from the shoes.
[shudder]
dis
as in disgusting.
so on my way out of my apt earlier i stopped to fix the strap on my right shoe. no sooner than reaching full ben-dover position, a big fat cockroach scampers across my left foot, sending me into extreme freakout mode. except i'm still very much bent over. so in addition to the immediate need to burn off my left foot, i'm hopping on my right foot--in heels, mind you-- hands still intent on fiddling with the buckle because apparently they didn't get the urgent memo of "hey, keep your balance, you idiot." let's just say that the end result was a gallon less than graceful.
with a full night ahead of me, i had to pull a mariah carey and shake it off. so i make it to the subway, more weary of the sidewalk than ever, and get there just as the 6 train pulls away from spring. usually when that happens, i'm just a little pissed at myself and the first thing that runs through my mind is what could i have done earlier to shave off 15 seconds so i could have made the train (this time it was obvious). but the point is (barring it wasn't because of some inept tourist sauntering down the stairs) i quickly get over it. the guy behind me, however, must be the king of grudge holders. as soon as the screeching of the train was beyond earshot, he turns to his wife/girlfriend/verbally masochistic significant other and says, "why are you such a lazy cow? you're so f*ckin slow! you... lazy cow! we could've made the train! gaddammitt!!" um yeah... and no, they really couldn't havemade it, as they were at least 10 paces behind me (before the turnstile) and unless they both happen to be olympic hurdlers, it was physically impossible.
so then we wait. they sit down at the same bench as me. no, actually, she sits down and he paces back and forth in front of her, mumbling something about the next train not getting there for another hour (not true) and how she's a fat cow (also, not true) and how much she owes him when they get home (yeah, a knuckle sandwich or perhaps a nice arsenic cocktail). he paces back and forth, taking just four or five steps before abruptly turning around to go the other way. it really annoyed the hell out of me. i don't know how this chick was taking it so calmly. she takes some candy out of her bag and begins to unwrap it until he violently snatches it away from her, pops it into his mouth and continues pacing. she gets another piece for herself in total silence. at this point, i wanted to say something, but alas, my brain was still in shock from the roach.
the lights of the next 6 train gives us the heads up (about 5 minutes later - not 60, as erroniously stated earlier by signore jackass), and he says, no, screams to her "get your ass up! stop being so f*ckin slow!" then he pulls her by the arm to the edge of the platform (the train hasn't even fully pulled in yet). i swear it was all i could do from pushing him onto the tracks. it was just. so. disgusting.
ugh.
12 inch
or 15 inch powerbook?
can't decide.
send help.
death race 2005
[death race] sometimes i need a helmet when i walk.
based on the much loved carradine/stallone one two punch of the mid 70s, death race 2000, this is a cyclist's version of revenge on pedestrians: riding through the streets of new york in large groups, turning heads and stopping traffic (because they're all in diy costumes). i hope i see one. perhaps it'll inspire me for halloween. as of yet, i am costumeless. it's ok though because i still have 54 days to think about it.
the good, the bad, and the ridiculously good looking
yeah. the new fall design intern for fall is wicked cute. when he introduced himself i was so lost in his dreaminess that i didn't even hear him say his name. i now have a new reason to get up in the morning.
recycle, my ass
the cleaning lady just took my trash can and my recycling can and emptied them both into the same garbage bag. wtf?
hott
[nano] that's i-speak for
hell yeah.
i know i don't
need it, but it's almost like shoes. for my ears. or something.
yee haw
we're having a country music television event on the north side of our building today. and of course, who do i see in the elevator? dolly parton. yeah, uh huh. and i'd describe her as... um... well i'm actually not going to touch that one. so yes. dolly parton is in the building. and that's it.
update: apparently it's a stunt and the dolly was not real. oh well.
nada surf
disclaimer: this isn't a post about nada surf. it's actually just about nada. and my longing to surf. i figured i'd phrase the two together for a nice, succinct title. who knew that i'd actually be non-referring to an actual band? certainly not moi.
anyway, so i really have nothing to say today. perhaps i'll tell you what i've eaten (like i don't
a l w a y s do that when i'm bored). breakfast was a happy bowl of vanilla almond granola plus corn flakes plus a sliced banana. i was quite busy this morning so my snack was only a piece of hershey's special dark (note to anyone who would like to win me over: dark chocolate is my absolute fav). then i went all out for lunch - grilled cheese on wheat w/ tomato and sauteed onions with a side of fries swimming in roast beef gravy. the cafeteria guy started to give me crap about gravy fries, but sassy moi told him "less talk, more gravy." and for those of you who don't believe me because you know that i'm passive aggressive, i really did say that. then again, i did punctuate it with a "please" and a smile. and it's possible that he didn't hear the "less talk" part because it's possible that i may have mumbled it or maybe i just thought about saying it and never actually did. ah well. only the guy behind me in line (who then looked at me like i was canadian or something) will know the truth.
the weather outside is f*ckin awesome. i want to be at the beach. note to self: next year take vacation the week after labor day because all the annoying little kids will be in school and the weather is f*ckin awesome. i wish i was surfing right now. or at least sitting on the beach, oogling at all the cute surfer boys. yeah, that'd be nice.
so, sorry - if you're looking for real nada surf, click
here,
here, or
here.
the wheels on the bus go
round and round, muthaf*cka!
so there i was, sitting quietly near the front of the M103 after a long day of sloth and gluttony (my favorite of the seven), when some dude in a copper colored 1976 ford grand torino pulls up alongside at prince and bowery, honking madly, screaming wildly, and looking dastardly. he says some gaspable and unrepeatable racial remark to our bus driver and then that's when all hell broke loose, or at least as hellish as nolita could ever be. perhaps his extreme idiocy was fueled by a bottle or two of the 12 cases of kendall jackson he had strapped to the roof rack of his station wagon of dreams, or perhaps he really was just. that. stupid.
the light turns green. we roll alongside the wagon, driver window to passenger window. our lessthanlevelheaded bus driver shouts right back. i couldn't make out the words - i guess a quick temper tends to fuel stuttering and general unintellibility. and then, loud and clear, with an "eff this, you effin crackah!" he throws a soda cup at the grand tor-wino. it magically goes right in the open window, splashing on the seat, the dash, and the dude. naturally, there were more curses to follow. the dude then stops his car at delancey (where the bus stops to let a quite frightened slight of a lady off, leaving me the second to last person still riding this pre-hate crime funbox). the dude comes around and starts banging on the driver's side window, which had been hastily shut in anticipation. you could still hear the n- words and the other phrases to be found in the dictionary of
death wish? say this!upon closing the doors, the bus driver starts to roll away. the dude scrambles to get his car moving so he can continue this fight. we're neck and neck again when the bus driver decides that his comeback to the menacing car is to shout "crackah!" over and over. and over. and... well, you get the point. so now this dude, now ballsy behind the wheel, thinks that his best defense is a good offense. which would work, if he wasn't so damn stupid. he's now swerving around in his lane, taunting us with a cut-off fake-out. if someone were to watch this aerially, i'm sure it would be quite amusing, as both of our vehicles were playing this game of unidirectional chicken at no more than seven miles per hour.
eyes and ears intent on the dude, the bus driver inadvertantly ignores my stop requested for grand, but i really wasn't in the mood to say anything drastic.
the verbal tirade continues between the two. and honestly, i've never heard a more base argument. it was just so... general. neither bothered to cover more than the color of each other's skin. i mean, there were plenty of opportunities - from the way the dude was dressed to the laughable contents of his vehicle, our bus driver had a plethora of material to choose from. name calling is just so junior high and frankly, a bit pathetic.
so the dude finally mans up and cuts us off diagonally, stopping his car about halfway between hester and canal. we're forced to stop. and as much as i wanted to stay and watch the climax and denouement, this pre-fall weather that we've been having is just too nice for being called into court as a material witness. so i gently tell the large vein in the bus driver's forehead "i'll just get off here" and scamper off into the depths of c-town.
crazy.
ob-gyn barbie
so the last summer friday means bring your kids to work day. that's fine. they're all cute and dandy. one of my co-worker's daughters brought in her new doll - pregnant barbie. actually she's barbie's friend, midge...
[midge] note the denim ensemble, slightly mussed hair, and the fact that the baby is physically strapped to her waist, of course leaving two hands free for beers and cigarettes, and insert cross-eyed inbreeding florida panhandle joke here
midge, who can also come as an african american version bearing the same name, comes with a wedding ring, earrings and baby accessories. but no husband. that's because he's busy pulling a jude law.
and apparently the baby can be shoved into and removed from the dolls stomach. and better yet, you can also remove her stomach after she's had the baby. first of all, ew. secondly, now we're instilling the illusion that once you have the baby you magically go back to barbie-like bodily proportions. it's probably all an elaborate ruse by the national association of money grubbing plastic surgeons. way to get 'em while they're young.
wah
it's my last summer friday. and the weather is gorrrgeous.
it's. just. so. sad.
full frontal
maybe i didn't notice it before, but there are billboards on the front of new york city buses. so pedestrians crossing the street against the light can get distracted by the pretty sign with words and colors hurtling towards you at reckless speeds and BAM! you're dead.
population control?
minor offense
how many girls named brooke are toting a metallic hobo shoulder bag at this very moment?
counting gold, silver and the ubiquitous copper, i'm going to guess 1,172. 348 of which are also sporting a short skirt and flip flops and 59 of that subsect who also go by the nickname of "b".
any takers?
give.
and in case you don't know how...
americares responds in aiding victims of hurricane katrina as well as provides humanitarian relief across the globe such as sending emergency response air shipments to the flood victims in india delivering over 50 tons of medicine to sudan.
here's how you can help.
america's second harvest is the nation's largest charitable hunger relief organization. 100% of the donations go towards charity. you could also
volunteer at your local food bank.
the american red cross is currently launching the largest mobilization of resources in its history for a single natural disaster. give online or call 1 800 help now. new yorkers click
here.
the salvation army is dispatching teams of volunteers to the disaster striken states to provide food and shelter for the millions of evacuees. donate online and perhaps you won't feel so bad come christmastime when you completely ignore the senior citizen in a santa hat ringing a bell outside your local mall.
mercy corps provides immediate relief and long term planning for disaster-ridden areas. give
once, give
twice, give
monthly, or give when you're
gone. just
give.
the federal emergency management agency is an independent agency reporting to the president and tasked with responding to, planning for, recovering from and mitigating against disaster.
here's their page on how to help. read up.
and last, but certainly not least, the religious relief organizations:
adventist community servicescatholic charitieschristian disaster responsechristian reformed world relief committeechurch world serviceconvoy of hopeepiscopal relief & developmentlutheran disaster responsemennonite disaster servicenazarene disaster responsepresbyterian disaster assistanceunited methodist committee on reliefskeptical?
charity navigator has information such as fund usage, organizational efficiency and income statements. take a look. it's actually quite humbling.
