it's all a lie
while innocently watching alton brown make his fabulously homemade granola bars, i come across a commercial for progressive car insurance, starring that tall guy with the hair (from the drew carey show). apparently his insurance agent is the same chick who was shilling for 1 800 dentist. so, what's the deal here... did she get fired from 1 800 dentist? but i still see her on those commercials too. i don't get it. how can she be working for two different customer service agencies at the same time? i'm so confused i could cry.
note to casting agencies: there are millions of crappy actors in the sea. pick
another one.
garbage pail kids
i used to collect those cards and trade them with my friends, but secretly i was so scared that they would come to life at night that when i came home from school i left them in the guest room and shut the door. i would still have nightmares that dead ted, richie retch and potty scotty were chasing me and damn those sick babies could run. those frickin trolls that we all collected in 2nd grade were equally as frightening.
so anyway, that stupid story came about because i just knocked over my trash can and saw the contents of things that i have used/consumed today: a plastic spoon (from this morning's bowl of cocoa krispies), 3 balls of crumpled paper (from crumpled paper ball fight at noon), a broken stapler (that ended the crumpled paper ball fight), mcdonalds fries box (healthiest. lunch. ever.), a bandaid (dog bite from a vicious maltese - i'm not kidding), and an empty bottle of irish cream.
stay classy, jade.
(ps. i love lamp)
boo!
happy halloween everyone!
here's some pics from this weekend...
[aye aye sailor] nina et moi.
[anna nicole drunkie mcdrunkdrunk] yeah, she's totally gonna kill me for this one.
[the judes and the mike] mike says, "this is the part in sprockets where we dance!"
[bunnies eat butterflies] this didn't apply to you megs, but if i get hit in the face with another pair of angel/fairy/misc-i-just-wanna-dress-like-a-ho-with wings, i will rip them off.
[drunkin] so there were these three drunk chicks hitting on some cops on 3rd ave. two of them were taking extreme close-up pictures of one cop while their cohort was cleavaging her way with the cop in the driver's seat. it was 40% amusing and 60% pathetic.
[dust bunny] the fact that mike looked better than i did is a bit distressing.
shout out
this is a shout out to my california crew. thanks for filling my inbox with your crazy words. you are all my left coast lovers. i send you big sloppy drooly bulldog kisses. and hugsies.
overheard in new york
teen boy 1: "you know, i wish i could tivo you to show you how stupid you are sometimes. and then play it back for your entire family to make fun of you."
teen boy 2: "you can't tivo me."
game. set. match.
diesel versus ferragamo
throw down!
yesterday on the 3 train i encountered what was the subway version of a walk-off, zoolander style. dude a was decked out in diesel jeans, shoes and man bag while dude b was sporting ferragamo shades and man bag. both had purposefully tattered blazers on, a with more of a patchwork pattern and b with green suede elbow patches that matched his man bag perfectly. for three express stops, they stared each other down, occasionally mussing hair or pulling off subtle subway poses. alas, at chambers street i disembarked the fashion train wreck. it was all i could do to refrain from sashaying my way out the door.
my name is jonas
morning theft will be playing as weezer, covering the entire blue album at their show this friday at new lower east side bar
fat baby. it looks fun - fat baby is a typical les bar (actually the pictures make it seem like libation meets crash mansion meets hiro), and morning theft is one of my favorite jeff buckley songs, so they've got to be good. who wants to go with me?
and in other news, i just jammed my hand into a filing cabinet and managed to get not one but four papercuts on my pinky finger. so actually, my name is stupidgirlwhokeepshurtingherself. but you can call me jade.
beer bongs for lunch
apparently all mtv employees get a discount for $6 off beer bongs at an undisclosed midtown west eatery. i can't think of a better way to punctuate the middle of your otherwise non-productive day.
blow a hundred
on this...
[hermès] not gold, not silver, not bronze...
a black plastic
hermès shoe horn. so if you're having trouble getting your shoes on, you can spend a hundred dollars and get this. or you can go back to kindergarten when they taught you how to do it using this magical appendage called your right hand (or left for you truly special folks). i can't tell you what to do. i trust that you'll make the right decision.
j'adore
[dior] yum.
rogue
my dog.
[rogue] love me.
[rogue] badasssssss!
[gumbo] the only dog mix wombat in the world
[friends] let sleeping dogs lie.
the doc is in
[doc] so cute, it's almost tragic.
meet the judes's new puppers, doc.
oshabuddahbah.
that's what i say to him.
you can just say hi.
a letter from the temp
yeah,
that one.
this is what she wrote to a bunch of us in the department...
Dear All,
I hope you are all well, vibrant and overflowing with love, positive energy
And happiness. You all deserve it!
Attached is the [blah blah blah].
Please let me know if you see any errors that I may have missed.
Hugsies,
[tempzilla]
Ps...Could you do me a favor? The next time you are in front of a mirror
Smile and affirm your darling magnificence. Thanks...
darling magnificence? hugsies? who talks like that? she
must be stopped.
handmade is beautiful
support independent designers!
[
sayge] i have trouble making up my mind. this helps.
[
luka] it's vintage-nouveau. i love ironic shop talk.
[
bonbon oiseau] i'm nuts about this one. get it? nuts.
[
calico juno] totally dig the hammered metal look.
hurricanes blow
don't you think?
you dankish milk-livered flax-wench!
i came up with that one all by myself. well, sorta...
check out the
shakespearian insult kit. so the next time somebody bites his thumb at you, boy will you be prepared. he will be shaking in his tights by the time you're done with him.
[sinners] yeah, i'm tawkin' to you.
and now i feel
terrible
iq tests are a great way to make you feel better about yourself. unless you're
stoopid like me.
that should get you through the day.
too much good stuff
this is what i did yesterday (besides work):
[shopgirl] cute story, a bit unsettling
[newcastle] to wash the movie down
[donut] to wash the beer down
[my morning jacket] amazing - beyond words, amazing
[pizza] a rather tasty midnight snack
i so very much heart new york.
i'm lovin' it
maybe i'm a little behind on my knowledge of bubblepop music (shame on me, i know) but yesterday at the gym i saw for the first time justin timberlake's video for "i'm lovin' it," also known as the catchy as hell mcdonald's anthem of 2004-05. there was no reference to mcdonald's in the video. in fact it was mostly of justin's pretty face. and normally i would imagine a moonlit post-surfing stroll on the beach hand in hand with a shirtless crooning justin timberlake -- because we were married, duh (sorry bern) -- yet all i wanted right then and there was a big fat double cheeseburger. apparently i am pavlov's dog. oh and some fries of course. and then that reminded me of the deadly and delicious meatnormous breakfast sandwich from burger king. i actually drooled a little on the elliptical machine.
update: chickenlittle posted about a big mac
yesterday. i think i know what i'm having for lunch.
welcome to the suck
population: orlando bloom
[e-town] "i don't suck." "yes, yes you do." "well, ok."
went to see elizabethtown last night with my mtv sap girls. in a salted pistachio nutshell, it was garden state, as told by cameron crowe. and i'm so glad that i didn't have to pay for the ticket (if i did pay for it, you probably wouldn't hear me rant because of the cognitive dissonance theory). legolas, i mean orlando, was pretty unbelievable as a non-elven human being, let alone an american twentysomething. he should really stick to character roles where his inner overdramatist can really be released (i.e. lotr, pirates, kingdom of heaven). either that or get his ass to winona ryder reality bites acting school. and don't get me started on little miss kiki dunst. her southern accent was as stable as last month's gas prices. instead of actual directing, cameron crowe must just throw his hands in the air and say, "whatever."
the only redeeming characters were paula deen as the permanent kitchen fixture of an aunt and paul schneider as the loser cousin/single father/failed souther rocker jessie (the freebird performance was probably the most entertaining of the entire film). one thing the idiosyncratically talented mr. crowe did manage to pull off was a good soundtrack.
esther in the house
madonna is supposedly in the building (most likely for trl). julia and i will be disguising ourselves as plants and twinkle-toeing around the studio set. wish us luck!
and her wicked sense of balance
n train - thursday, october 13th, 9:23am
it was a fairly empty train (i guess because of yom skippy) on a fairly raining morning. there's a row of three working women (not that kind of working women), all dozing with their mouths open. in unision, they sway back and forth with the motion of the train. it was beckoning me to play along. it was all i could do from tossing bits of granola into their open, swaying mouths.
n train - friday, october 14th, 9:23am
there's a guy standing less than a foor away from me, holding two relatively opaque grocery bags. in one bag is a box of cinnamon toast crunch and a bag of salt and pepper chips. in the other was about 15 bananas. i didn't even look at his face and i swear that it was love at first sight.
n train - monday, october 17th, 9:23am
there's a woman standing by the door with many bags (note: not bag lady, just lady with bags). one on her back, one on her shoulder, one on the floor between her feet, and an open one on her forearm. she holds a mirror with one hand and adeptly applies eyeliner with the other. mind you, she's not holding on to anything and the n train isn't exactly the smoothest of rides. after eyeliner comes the eyelash curler. she finishes the show with two coats of mascara, all the while wildly* chewing gum (*with her mouth open like a cow). i marveled at her amazing feat of dexterity. i was both impressed and disgusted at the same time.
the f train may be the most "eclectic," but the n is by far the most interesting.
i got soul
but i'm not a soldier.
working late again... i should be at a big family dinner at a posh restaurant in tribeca. eating angry lobster. drinking shiraz. playing with mabel. but nope. i'm working late. and on a mindless (although somewhat gratifying) task - putting togther playlists for my company's executive retreat this weekend. so along with the standard top 40 pop that i'm forced to put in there, i'm also adding my own favorites. you can't tell but i'm steepling my fingers a la mr. burns... excellent. but wait, it's 9pm on a friday (albeit rainy) night and i'm still at work. damn. why is the joke always on me?
saints + lovers = free show
tonight at scenic (ave b between 2 & 3)
s+l goes on at 10.
be there or be a big shiny loser.
hello dracula
just had some guacamole loaded with garlic and onions.
i could kill someone with this breath. whew!
schmintern
i just had money thrown on my desk with a shouted request of "3 black and white cookies please!" i'm sorry, do i look like betty crocker? or better yet, do i look like an intern? (scratch that, i actually
do look like an intern, but that's besides the point).
fuck this. i quit.
no i don't.
damn! (hangs head in shame)
boo!
so i'm looking online for a halloween costume and all i get are pictures upon pictures of leggy blonde girls in tiny little outfits that if you squint one eye and close the other you can make them out to be alice in wonderland or woodland fairy--no sorry, that's
slutty alice in wonderland or woodland fairy
babe. and better yet is how they are all posing. yes, i know that the attempt is to sell the costume, but let's be realistic. why don't they pose them all drunk and stumbling so that we all know what we're really getting ourselves into.
so here are my ideas for halloween:
snapping turtle
dust bunny
million dollar baby
also open to suggestions...
go long
mmm, pasta. rome, florence or venice - 4 nights plus air - from $399.
get away. 7 night cruise aboard the norwegian sun. western caribbean by way of houston - from $399.
alas, i have no vacation days to spare. perhaps i can fake an injury or something.
obsessedbloggersayswhat?
yes.
so i'm not obsessed, but i have the means to be. i checked out my "came from" pages from my statcounter just to see how people find my blog. i found one to be particularly amusing. apparently somebody googled "educated assholes" and found my blog as number 43. how quaint.
potty mouth
avril asks, "why you gotta go and make things so complicated?"
i don't know, avril. it's just what i do. maybe it's because i never had an imaginary friend as a child and instead i rehash all of my adolescent complexities as an adult. wait a minute. i don't have to explain myself to you. you're canadian. your non-country is famous for ice hockey and celine dion. that's right, i said
non-country. so there. hmph.
anyway, my latest and most definitely not greatest complication is the the topic of public restroom etiquette...
scenario 1: you walk into a bathroom and see someone you know. mind you, i'm not talking about female co-dependent bathroom behavior, this is just seeing someone you know. let's use the office restroom as an example. you walk in there. you recognize person x. you say hi, x says hi. you both go into your respective stalls. x starts saying something about a project that you're working on. you answer. x keeps talking. you flush. you wash your hands. you dry your hands. you fix your hair. x is still talking. now what do you do?
scenario 2: you're standing in line for two unisex one at a time bathrooms. there are people behind you. door on the left opens, revealing a grossly overweight teenage male who is scratching his head furiously with one hand and holding up his dirty sweat pants with the other. two seconds later, the door on the right opens, and out comes a petite middle-aged woman in a business suit who uses a paper towel facilitate the door handle. they're basically both open, but the door on the left came first. and you're next. which door do you choose?
you are cordially invited to humor me.
thank you for your time.
mary kate sends her best
last night i overheard my roommate's friend say (quite emphatically), "i just feel better when i'm skinny." normally, i can tune this sort of idiocy out but i couldn't help eavesdropping on this one with the high hopes of blog fodder. apparently i hit the jackpot of all stupid conversations. she proceeded to talk for the next hour and a half about getting fatter and hating herself. she mentioned how her clothes just look "so round and so, like, uggh!" before detailng her ingenious plan of not eating. like going to the gym instead of eating lunch and then going to sleep early instead of eating dinner. well slap me silly and call me atkins, i'm gonna quit my job and write a best-seller!
ladies and gentlemen, this is the crazy train local. the next stop is binging, followed by purging. if you want the white powder express, go across the platform. all aboard!
attention all nerds
you'll love
this
[sudko] aka what i've been doing for the past 2 hours.
it's like a crosswords but with numbers.
geektastic!
i cut my tongue
and now everything tastes like blood.
ew.
whew!
oh man.
i just burped for a solid minute. and it felt good. in fact, it was the best. burp. ever.
look ma, i'm a lady.
all work and no play
make homer something something...
not the shinning, the shining. check out this reworked
trailer. who'd have thunk that this is the movie that gave me nightmares from age 7 to 20. actually right up until i saw the ring, which replaced those creepy blond twins with that creepy dead girl in the well. i don't like scary movies.
49 percent
this is
gorgeous. it's royksopp's video for 49 percent. so. effin. beautiful.
apply some pressure
check out the new
maximo park video. it's like devo meets houdini. on speed. aka totally frickin' awesome (to be said outloud in your best napoleon dynamite voice).
workplace appropriate...
not really.
so the cute intern brought in cookies today.
julia whispers to me, "i want his cookies."
so i called her a slut and threw a pen at her for being lewd.
i'm so getting fired.
and now i want cookies.
milan
i have an aunt named milan who lives in brazil. i'd like to go to brazil right now. or milan for that matter.
oh right, fashion...
[prada] chiffon never looked so boring... or like sherbet.
wasn't a huge fan of prada spring 06. channelled the 80s a bit with the off the shoulder draping sleeves and the high waist belting. i know this is a bit sacreligious, but most of the line looked like "white tablecloth + 10 year old myanmarese seamstress = high fashion." not impressed.
[max mara] like a weight watchers commercial. and by weight watchers i mean anorexia.
i used to get max mara confused with bcbg max azria. but now i know the difference. bcbg max azria makes pretty party dresses. max mara is insane. his spring line is full of loose fitting horizontal striped bathing suits (which make even the waifiest of waifs look like pregastricbypass star jones), adapted mens pants (aka heavily cinched at the waist), and cameltoe inducing jumpsuits.
what? is right.
[versace] where's the logo? oh yeah, right there.
no surprise at versace. classic ostentatious gold that calls for a skin at least four shades darker than your blond highlights. threw a little blue in there just for kicks i guess. it was all very monte carlo, if you drive a ferrari and lounge on a yacht.
[moschino] i heart, indeed.
moschino has by far the cutest rendition of the 50s and 60s i've seen. figure flattering, slightly updated cuts in black and white as well as playful colors defined this spring line. a little bit heavy on the hearts and bows and ruffles, but in this case, the cheese was in the form of a smooth and creamy bechamel. yum.
[d&g] victorian hooker meets 90s grunge -- i dig.
d&g's spring 06 took white to a better place with flowy lace and corsets. and as uncomfortable as they are, corsets make you look good. i'm totally loving the new spin on the boxers and baggy jeans trend as they've replaced the boxers with lacey knickers. seriously hott.
[dolce & gabbana] love the white dress black tights look.
[dolce & gabbana] the most gorgeous offspring of a doily and a campanula.
internet explorer has unexpectedly quit
there's nothing you can do. that form that you've been working on for the last 45 minutes is lost. gone. forever. and for that we at microsoft are truly sorry. would you like to send a report? it really won't help you. unless you actually believe that there is someone reading the thousands of reports sent to us every minute. in which case, we'll get right on it. now you just go back to playing hopscotch with your pet lochness monster.
jade has unexpectedly thrown her computer out the window.
don't push the button
the button is bad.
oh man.
lost is so good.
[girlfight] wait, what? how did she-- who-- huh?
as soon as i can finagle a copy of season 1 on dvd i'm going to have a
lost party. with popcorn. and cheese.
that's retar -- awesome
bored at work. yet again. so while i'm backing up scarlett (my old comp), i'm web meandering. and this is what i've found:
[tiffany's] it's a silver monkey. on a silver straw. in fact, it's a silver monkey straw.
[verbatim] because technological progress is screaming for a little nostalgia.
[phone] because stupid looking is the new cool.
[marshmallow shooter] because. just because.
free advice (for killing yourself)
[free advice] it's cold. wear a hat. now be gone with ye!
the judes and i went to central park on sunday for the pet adoption festival. while wandering around, we passed by these two guys sitting on a bench with a free advice sign and an empty folding chair. i was tempted, but i didn't take them up on their offer. mostly because there is a girl here at work who offers her own free (and often unsolicited) advice. except she's also playing the role of snl's debbie downer. and lucky lucky me, i have the grand honor of sitting 10 feet from her open office. here's what i've overheard this morning...
"well once your organs stop functioning on their own, it's all downhill from there."
"you may not want to hear this, but it's the truth. you should put your cat to sleep."
"think about the here and now. what kind of crap do i want for lunch?"
it's gonna be a bright bright bright bright sunshiney day
the status of my diseased hand
it's just fine. slightly tanned fingers, but otherwise, just fine.
thank you.
monster, uh... sorta
i see your
monster and raise you mine...
[sully] ish.
what's up doc?
i had a dermatologist appointment last night at 8:15. i know it's late but i made the appointment under the impression that i'd be working late and would have to go directly from the office. however, i forgot that it was rosh hashanah eve (is that right?) and half of my company would be leaving at 5pm. translation:
we all stopped working at 5pm. so then we went to st. andrews and toasted a fond farewell to our multimedia guy who was leaving the company for a career in wedding photography. three higballs, two bites of pizza and one extremely loud conversation later (learning things about my co-workers that i never would have known if it weren't for the abundance of whiskey all around), i left for my doctor's office. i wasn't drunk, but i wasn't sober either.
so the train ride down was filled with scenarios of what i would do when i go to the derm. perhaps i would throw my diseased hand on the table and demand that he perform an impromptu skin graft. perhaps i would fall asleep in the waiting area and wake up tomorrow morning to a room full of giggling children (he shared the office with a pediatrician). perhaps i would flirt with the doctor, say very inappropriate things and make him terribly uncomfortable. or perhaps i would be completely normal because slightly drunk me tends to elaborate about ficticiously drunk me.
breathe in and let go
of her neck.
julia is playing frou frou. over and over. it's frou to the frouth power. plus a little more frou. and all i can think of is garden state. and bunnies (i know that's foo foo, but at this point i'm going a little crazy and the free association is working overtime).
i need this like a badger to the face.
just between you and me, smashed jacket
you shouldn't run for the subway. well that's what they tell you anyway. but everyone does it. if you're within a hop, skip or a jump, you do so, making sure you get at least one limb in the way of the closing doors. if you're lucky, someone nice will be standing just inside the doors and will help pry them open so you can get in. if you're unlucky, then you struggle, clawing at the rubber and making a ruckus so that the conductor will feel sorry for you and reopen the doors. and if you're really unlucky, your new white fall jacket gets covered with subway grime. and that's exactly what happened to this very unfortunately fashionable woman this morning on the uptown n. dior glasses, chloe padlock bag, citizen jeans, marc jacobs flats, and now soiled double breasted white trench with nautical gold buttons. really quite tragic indeed.
