It's a Hard-Knocked Life

The New York Times gave these women wet dreams by publishing an article about how tough the economy has been on them. Bear in mind, these women are late twenty-something upper-middle class manhattanites.

The issue? The rough waters of the economy have finally begun rocking their weekend sailboats. Their situation is so dire that they formed a support group- Dating a Banker Anonymous- where they can sit and sip $15 gimlets and bitch about losing their time shares or thrice-weekly deep tissue massage. The article is both fascinating and insulting. It takes a real shithead to not only find it reasonable to complain about cutting back the Nanny's hours to 35 a week, but to then flaunt it in the Times.

I understand that it's difficult to assimilate to change, but I find it beyond reproach to rub the woes of your mild discomfort in the faces of laid-off workers and struggling families. Aw, your life is slightly less-than because your boyfriend is making less money and working twice as hard just so he won't lose his Wall Street gig? Boo fucking hoo. Here's a thought- why don't you get a job and stop whining while your meal ticket wakes up in a cold sweat to check the opening bell of the Japanese market.

Just read the article. You may find it funny, or you may read it and find yourself brogging a response in a fit of blind rage.

I Can Haz Cheezbuger

This is effing terrible and so mean but I had to stifle a giggle at work when I saw this. I first thought it was Britney Spears (uhh despite the self-referential baby tee). Then I thought the joke was that she ATE the "someone else."

And then I saw a sexual Ronald McDonald in repose with- I assume- a bottle of Chianti and perhaps some discount caviar.

I shouldn't have laughed at this and I certainly shouldn't have posted it. Jessica Simpson is obviously not fat or even relevant.

I Wish These Were My Kids

This British commercial is amazing. It can be risky, but some of the best advertising is "oddvertising"- juxtaposing two completely unrelated topics, images, etc to make the unfamiliar stick in your brain. Also unrelated: My University of Phoenix 'PhD in Advertising' glitter pens and certificate are being mailed this week.

Swarm!

Thanks to Science, Nasa, Google and Humans, this image was taken during the inauguration. At first I thought it was an ant swarm, or perhaps a cell cluster*, however I was mistaken. It is a formation of Homo Sapiens gathering around their outdoor televisions and their obelisk.

Click here for more satelite images of the inauguration- they are all pretty trippy.






*I don't know what a cell cluster is but it sounded like something that might be real, and maybe look like the picture.

Inauguration

So Baltimore lost. To Pittsburgh. It was a sad, sad day, but if I continue to dwell on it my sadness will consume me and I'll be no better than the buckets of garbage who beat us on Sunday.

I'll allow that that last statement didn't make much sense, but let's move on, shall we?

Today is the date my eyeballs have been straining to read off the bumpers of cars for four years now: 1/20/09. I think it is amusing that for years this date has been marketed- by us- as "Bush's Last Day;" a sentiment totally disregarding the future. Far before Mccain and Obama duked it out, the fact that it would be Bush's last day in office surpassed the "What Could Be's" and stopped cold at the "Get Him the Hell Out of Here's." Given the power of "1/20/09", I'm surprised we even bothered voting at all and didn't just appoint John Hamm or Harry Potter as King.

But we did vote, and it is the final day of Dubbya's tenure as Commander in Chief. Though I would love to witness history and all that jazz, you could not pay me to make the 45 minute treck to DC today. First of all, I hate crowds. Second of all, I hate the Human-to-Port-A-Pot Ratio, which is 800:1. (4 mil people, 5,000 shitters.) A perfectly respectable lady friend of mine is donning a pair of adult diapers in the event that she has to- you know, pee. While I respect her enthusiasm, as a general rule of thumb I won't go anywhere requiring me to throw a box of wipes into my purse.

cnn.com is asking all Inauguration-goers to send pictures of the event so they can compile the most detailed image of any moment in history. As if the cell phone towers won't be working to full capacity, cnn also requests that the images be sent as soon as possible. I'll try to post the compiled, layered image of 4 million grainy phone pictures here as soon as it is made available.

I'm now off to finish some work and go watch the Grand Show on the other side of campus. Enjoy watching this momentous occasion and don't forget to check out who Michelle is wearing and which celebrities get to stand on the actual stage while Obama performs.

CAW! CAW! Superbowl XLIII PREASE!

About 6 months ago I made the horrendous mistake of signing a lease with a Steelers fan. I can't tell you how sorry I am about that...I feel like I let you down.

That being said, today should pan out to be a fantastic game, riddled with Yo Mama jokes, sick defense, Flacco's incredible eyebrows and a Ravens win.

The pre game analysis has put Pittsburgh as the favorite (bastards) but they also are projecting this game to be "a streetfight." With the exponentially higher number of convicted and accused felons, I think we all know who will come out victorious.

I'm going to tuck into my bucket of margarita and sigh contentedly at the beautiful Ravens posters I've hung in our windows and on the front door (I'll post pictures of my masterpieces later.)

Good luck, Ravens. And godspeed.

Re-Fried beans

A short play. (Inspired by a conversation with Her Majesty L.E. Krajewski)
Scene: Two Ladies Lunching.

Mrs. Jamestown
Coffee makes me sick so I have to drink tea. It’s like ordering bacon-wrapped filet mingon and getting a veggie burger!

Mrs. Clarion
Mmm. Mmhmm. Tea is coffee's poetry-award-winning, honor-student, Swarthmore-attending, fake monocle-wearing older brother.

Mrs. Jamestown
Well, then certainly Coffee is tea's fun-loving sexy bitch of a little brother whom everyone loves but Tea just doesn't see why.

Mrs. Clarion
Oh, to be sure, to be sure.

Mrs. Jamestown
And I suppose that would make Sanka Tea and Coffee's red headed, candy-corn toothed, psoriasis-having step brother?

Mrs. Clarion
Indeed, which means Frappacinno is coffee's chubby-but-designer-wearing, sassy gay cousin who moved to LA midway through community college.

Mrs. Jamestown
You may be on to something there, Mrs. Clarion. Would you say that Starbucks is Coffee and Tea’s over-paid, long-haired bitter agent who charges too much and cares too little?

Mrs. Clarion
By George, Mrs. Jamestown, I would! And would you, in turn agree that Starbucks' Reduced-Fat Banana Cake is Coffee's drunken hook up, who’s good in the sack but is otherwise his I-swear-I’m-not-anorexic, wants-to-be-everything-to-everyone, needy and emotionally dependent ex-girlfriend?

Mrs. Jamestown
A thousand times Yes! But if all of this is true, then by transitive property, Venti Peppermint-Spiced Extra-Whip Whole Milk Chai Latte with Red and Green Sprinkles and Four Sugars is Coffee's over-festive and portly aunt who comes to Christmas with her Chihuahua, her ugly-sweaters-with-bells- collection, her vibrator and her tears.

Mrs. Clarion
A mathematical certainty! Hahahahah her vibrator and her tears. Lets go get a croissant.

Fin.

Come on George Michael

So the Arrested movie is definitely a go, but Michael Cera may choose not to be involved with it. An Arrested Development movie with no George Michael is like a Bluth Banana with no nuts: it's all wrong.
Oh, you like topical similes you say? Here are a few more to drive the point home.

No George Michael in the AD movie is like:

...G.O.B without his Segway or Magicians Alliance card
...Tobias without his jean short collection
...Lucille without her vodka
...Lindsay without her liberal agenda or vodka
...Maeybe without her rack
...Michael without his stair car
...George without his look-a-like paper mache heads
...Buster without his hook hand

I think I've made my case here.

Please Michael Cera, do the movie. Just say yes. Yes.

Finally

Brought to you by pork-friendly preasebrog, dlisted and Tremors,

The Internet Presents...



THE ORACLE OF BACON

Pink Flamingos

John Waters made a video address to Obama. In it, he gives the President Elect advice about how to deal with the 'mos, keep his marriage healthy and quit smoking. He suggests that we kick all the gay guys out of the military and replace them with lesbians, as they will have an easier time finding Bin Laden. He also proposes that we give free hair cuts and make-overs to the homeless.

Oddly, my rigidly right-winged, farm-bred, Ann Coulter-loving father had the same idea. In the late nineties he had some sort of philanthropic seizure and went through Baltimore doing good deeds. He outfitted a homeless man he dubbed "Bo-Peep" in warm Carhart clothing and he gave homeless men and women gift certificates to go to a barber to get hair cuts and shaves for job interviews.

Though we were all surprised and supportive, I should mention that the Carhart clothes were covered in my dad's company's logo. Opurtunist that my father is, he would never let a kind gesture go unrewarded- thus Bo Peep became one of the first examples of a "walking advertisement" that I have ever seen.

My Dad and John Waters: Baltimore's most revolutionary minds.

Dear God, No

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I just tried to log into facebook for some quality mid-afternoon stalking and the site is DOWN. Which means either someone googled google (a sure sign of the apocalypse- the world as we know it will cease to exist if this ever happens so PLEASE never do that) or my computer is being rude. It makes me uncomfortable to admit that my instant reaction to this facebook news was to update my status to see if it was just me who got hit with rejection...but, like, I can't.

I am terrified to think of a workday without facebook. It is my sun, it is my moon, it is my bastion of useless knowledge and amateur photography. O! evil gods of downed systems, how dare ye taketh away my ability to update my status and peruse the quotes of quasi-strangers! Without the fortification of my friends' witty comments, my wall will surely come crubmling down!


[Editors Note: In the time it took me to write that post Facebook dropped its iron curtain and let me back in. But whatever, it's not that big a deal.]

The Secret Now Has A Tiny Joule-sized Hole in My Heart

Customer Review

3,776 of 3,821 people found the following review helpful: The Secret saved my life!, December 4, 2007 Please allow me to share with you how "The Secret" changed my life and in a very real and substantive way allowed me to overcome a severe crisis in my personal life. It is well known that the premise of "The Secret" is the science of attracting the things in life that you desire and need and in removing from your life those things that you don't want. Before finding this book, I knew nothing of these principles, the process of positive visualization, and had actually engaged in reckless behaviors to the point of endangering my own life and wellbeing. At age 36, I found myself in a medium security prison serving 3-5 years for destruction of government property and public intoxication. This was stiff punishment for drunkenly defecating in a mailbox but as the judge pointed out, this was my third conviction for the exact same crime. I obviously had an alcohol problem and a deep and intense disrespect for the postal system, but even more importantly I was ignoring the very fabric of our metaphysical reality and inviting destructive influences into my life. My fourth day in prison was the first day that I was allowed in general population and while in the recreation yard I was approached by a prisoner named Marcus who calmly informed me that as a new prisoner I had been purchased by him for three packs of Winston cigarettes and 8 ounces of Pruno (prison wine). Marcus elaborated further that I could expect to be raped by him on a daily basis and that I had pretty eyes. Needless to say, I was deeply shocked that my life had sunk to this level. Although I've never been homophobic I was discovering that I was very rape phobic and dismayed by my overall personal street value of roughly $15. I returned to my cell and sat very quietly, searching myself for answers on how I could improve my life and distance myself from harmful outside influences. At that point, in what I consider to be a miraculous moment, my cell mate Jim Norton informed me that he knew about the Marcus situation and that he had something that could solve my problems. He handed me a copy of "The Secret". Normally I wouldn't have turned to a self help book to resolve such a severe and immediate threat but I literally didn't have any other available alternatives. I immediately opened the book and began to read. The first few chapters deal with the essence of something called the "Law of Attraction" in which a primal universal force is available to us and can be harnessed for the betterment of our lives. The theoretical nature of the first few chapters wasn't exactly putting me at peace. In fact, I had never meditated and had great difficulty with closing out the chaotic noises of the prison and visualizing the positive changes that I so dearly needed. It was when I reached Chapter 6 "The Secret to Relationships" that I realized how this book could help me distance myself from Marcus and his negative intentions. Starting with chapter six there was a cavity carved into the book and in that cavity was a prison shiv. This particular shiv was a toothbrush with a handle that had been repeatedly melted and ground into a razor sharp point. The next day in the exercise yard I carried "The Secret" with me and when Marcus approached me I opened the book and stabbed him in the neck. The next eight weeks in solitary confinement provided ample time to practice positive visualization and the 16 hours per day of absolute darkness made visualization about the only thing that I actually could do. I'm not sure that everybody's life will be changed in such a dramatic way by this book but I'm very thankful to have found it and will continue to recommend it heartily. Permalink |

Elizabethtown.

There are some pretty crap movies out there. I don't want to name names (im talking to YOU Indiana Jones 4 and Legend) but sometimes movies get so bad that you don't even want to keep watching for "holy shit this movie's terrible lets laugh and make fun of it" purposes.

A primo example of this is the 2005 ass hat bomb Elizabethtown. Starring Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst, the movie follows the main character Drew as he epically fails at his job causing his shoe company to lose one BILLION dollars. That same day his dad dies, and after ALSO failing at the worlds lamest suicide attempt he finds himself on a plane to (you guessed it) Elizabethtown, KY for the funeral.

Enter Kirsten. She plays a spunky, irresistible flight attendant with a wealth of deep, important one-liners. The two swap numbers, thus propelling their relationship into a long-distance, VERY short friendmance. Will they fall in love? Will she save him from himself? Will he finally see what's right in front of him?

Who gives a shit.

Because I had to suffer though it, I'll share with you some of the superb Cameron Crowe writing that made Elizabethtown sparkle and shimmer before our eyes.

Claire Colburn: I'm impossible to forget, but I'm hard to remember. (uhhhh what?)

Claire Colburn: I'm one of a kind. (buuut you just said...ok sure nevermind.)

Claire Colburn: Men see things in a box, and women see them in a round room. (I won't even touch that one)

Claire Colburn: I think I've been asleep most of my life.
Drew Baylor: Me too.

Claire Colburn: I don't know a lot about everything, but I do know a lot about the part of everything that I know, which is people.

Drew Baylor: Can you imagine an entire life wrapped up in a shoe? (BAHAHAHAHHAHAHA)

Claire Colburn: Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free. (It's like she can read my thoughts...)

Claire Colburn: Life cannot be so cruel that we don't deserve to be together... to eat. (poetic. compelling and rich.)

And my favorite:

Claire Colburn: I'm going to miss your lips. And everything attached to them.

I realize I can be cynical and that sappy movies aren't my favorite but come on. In case you haven't born witness to this travesty, the way that the Drew character tries to off himself is ludicrous. He tapes a butchers knife to an exercise bike thing and tries to stab himself to death.
What a turd. Anyway, the movie ends with Claire sending her sort-of-but-not-really-new-boyfriend on a soul-searching cross-country drive with his dads ashes, which he illegally spreads all over the place. Within the most elaborate scrapbook imaginable, she times his trip perfectly (because I guess she knows a lot about people and telling the future) and at one of the asinine places on her freakshow map- the worlds second biggest flea market-she plants little clues all over and he finds her in her little red hat and they kiss and the end.

WACKO FOR FLACCO!

Dem Ravens take on the Gaynessee Gaytins this weekend (see what I did there?) and though I will be abroad, I'll be wearing my Heap jersey and drinking my rail vodka-spiked purple drink. I think we have a real chance of winning so long as Joe Flacco can keep his eyebrows pinned back. Statistically, most Quarterbacks throw incompletions or get sacked from Unneccesary and Irregular Facial Hair, resulting in a five yard penalty and endless ridicule. Should he stumble accross a HelloKitty hair clip or a professional waxer, we might just pull off the win.


[EDITORS NOTE: The thumbnail to this picture looked just like Flacco. Upon further review it appears to be Keanu Reeves but fuck it, it stays.]

Morally Casual Resolutions

I'm not one to let myself fool...myself.

Which is why I tend to ignore the whole NYE Resolution thing. I prefer to always think I can't do or have something, that way when i DO get it, it's like a big surprise and I can blast some Destiny's Child and celebrate my "unexpected" good fortune/looks/whathaveyou.

This year was no different. A dear friend asked me what I had resolved to do for '09 and I said Nothing. Lose weight? Nothing. She then called me lame and told me her goal is to learn a new language and to ride a motorcycle.

We can't all be supergroovyjews.

Another friend explained that instead of choosing to subtract a bad habit, she was going to add a few new ones. She is going to work on being more straightforward and aggressive with men, which basically means '09 IS HER YEAR! (to get knocked up.)

I'm sure I'll turn down a few salt and vinegar chips in the name of it being a new year and all, but to be honest, I'm not that worried; odd years have been statistically more enjoyable than even ones for me. I have a few weekend trips planned, a full-time job, my cat is doing well, I have all three High School Musicals on DVD, plus my blog...

'09's gonna be great.

I Don't Know Who I'm More Jealous Of...

A...The cheesedick reality tv star posing with the wax figure and the olympic butterface

2...The Olypmic butterface (albeit champion of the world) posing with the crusty wax figure and the cheesedick reality star

D... The crusty wax figure who is riding on the coattails of her failed cheesedick son's reality tv career while posing with the olympic butterface.

whew.


(If you picked Michael Phelps then you win.)

Ho Ho Ho Man I Haven't Posted In a While

I'm the worst. My New Years resolution/ Boxing Day promise is to bring you faithful, late breaking information NO MORE than three weeks past their relevancy expiration dates. (speaking of which, did anyone hear Brit's having a comeback!?!)

For me, 2009 began in a police invaded coat-check mosh pit at the Sheraton (true story), so I feel that either things can only get much, much better or far, far worse. Either way I'll find things to report.