Why I let this person crash on my couch.

G-Chat. Thursday, October 8th, 2009.

Amy: hahaha

a nj court says it's legal to sodomize a cow

me: agh, are you kidding?

there goes my weekend

Amy: *LEGAL

not illegal

me: oh

well then

party's back on

Amy: are you calling me a cow?

The Year of Parvin

Parvin told me to update my fucking blog. Her wish is granted!

Keeping up a blog is expensive, if attention and energy were the same as dollars. Contrary to a lot of naysayers, I feel like blogs are a wonderful gift from the internet that allow people to express themselves in ways a little more untethered, and - although questionably - a lot more boldly and publicly than before. Blogs are also great ways to allow yourself to cultivate your own self-perception, and I think Parvin is the shining example of this fact. Although I'm upset that I was not chosen to be her Alcohol Life Coach, I think her mission statement and strategy are solid ones.

Hopefully breathing new life into this blog - and coming back to the world of blogoshpere - will convince her to make me her Blog Life Coach. I think together we can yell at each other to stay on top of our god damn respective blogs. She's doing a great job so far.

NSFWacebook

Hey guys.  Just a PSA.  Because about five minutes ago I fell into this trap for about the thousandth time in two months.  When you plan to visit Facebook, make sure you type it into the address bar correctly.  Because when you type in "facbeook," you'll get a bunch of newsfeeds I'm sure you'll wish you never had to be fed.

You're welcome.

This is why you're fat

This blog will be my go-to scapegoat whenever I feel especially obese and guilty. It truly is an orgy of everything that leads to an early onset of type II diabetes. Or you know, a stroke. I'd laugh at most of it, except um, I'd maybe actually eat that meta-pizza (a pizza topped with pizza bagels, BUHLICIOUS).

Bling

Ohmygodyouguys. This is how I spent my time at work today. Learning how to make blingees. Expect to see a lot more of THIS glory beautifying up my blog soon. My new resolution is to recap every RHONY episode with a distinct blingee, starting with last night's. Recap coming veeeeeery soon! In the meantime, let's get down with Gay Brad and Ramona at the Hampton's Tea Dance!

I don't think she really said that actually

But whatever.

Still not Perez

I was just thinking about Valentine's Day last year, and how I had just started this blog. When I went back to take a look at my first post, I realized that today is this blog's first anniversary. Happy Birthday, Bloggylegs!

Why I'm going to exploit my kids

... because whoring your children out to YouTube is not parentally irresponsible; it's socially generous. Just because the insanity of these kids is on display for all the world to ridicule it doesn't mean mom and dad love them any less. Two children have recently affirmed these feelings of mine. Even Anderson Cooper is getting into this crap!

1. Kitten girl. A lot of people are going to tell you that this video was totally scripted and manipulated by the kitten girl's parents. You know, even if it was, I totally believe that the commentary all came straight from the kid. It's the kind of weird, random, too-mature-for-its-own-age-at-times tone that can only come from a 6-year-old.



2. David after the Dentist. If you're ever at a party with me tokin a fatty and you offer me a hit, this is exactly why I will vehemently refuse. The second I learned how to inhale, this is what I looked like five minutes later. I totally sympathize with the need to let out a primal scream, wondering if I was part of real life, and hopelessly pondering "is this going to be forever?"

Things that are awesome (besides the internet in my aprartment)

Why am I sitting at home writing on a blog at 10:30 on a Saturday night? Because I can! Because the Time Warner technician came! All rejoice! (Is it in any way shallow and spoiled of me, by the way, to be this over the moon for finally getting cable in my apartment?)

It might also because I am broke as a joke after this move. It might also because I'm bad at winning friends and influencing people.

I don't know. Let's discuss my new two favorite things this week, both of which are courtesy of Steph.

1. Dooce. The blog that only puts more pressure on my 22-year-old bioclock to get married and settle into precious domesticity as soon as possible. I love everything about Heather Armstrong's website, from her whimsical design to her breathtaking, modest photographs to her hilarious flair for writing about her family and homelife.

2. Coraline. I didn't know anything about the book before I saw this truly inspired stop-motion movie, but I was really captivated by what a horrific dreamworld Neil Gaiman had imagined. There was a lot of goodness that I could gush about in this film, from the goth-ly playful soundtrack to Coraline's kick-ass nail polish (which I own in "Electrify" and you can find at Urban Outfitters). What I really appreciated though was, despite the PG rating, that the story seemed to be ripped from the inventory of my seven-year-old nightmares. The grim images in that movie were just so jarring and uncanny to the sort of things I thought only my messed up mind came up with during childhood.

And re: 3D. What a strange comeback, no? I can't help but attribute this silly phenomenon to the "depression" that everyone's so wont to prescribe. Looking at a theater full of intelligent people gawking through 3D glasses simply reminds me of the resigned simplicity of early twentieth century America: post-Depression, post-WWII, deluding itself into believing that watching stuff in 3D and furnishing diners in chrome was stepping into the future. Well, Ike Administraion, you called it! 50 years later, Madison Avenue is jamming two-toned glasses in our faces just so we can watch the Super Bowl. Take that, ya damn Soviets.

3. Oh, also awesome: Charlie Wilson's War. Not having the internets or moneys = watching a lot of DVDs. OK?

I could lose this lemon in return for a rad trike.

You wanna know why I voted Obama two weeks ago? It's not because I was voting for terrorism and ACORN, and it certainly wasn't because I wanted my overmedicated grouchy Pop Pop telling me whether to watch MacGuiver or 60 Minutes, it's because of johnmccainisyourjalopy.com and barackobamaisyournewbicylce.com - two websites that bear more truth than an EPT. If you don't get either of them, well, then I guess you voted for the apropos man.

Eye candy

If I blogged about my more personal life, then I would blog about this, which really did happen, and really did happen because - in a nutshell - I'm an alcoholic and INSANELY STUPID.

What I really want to share with the world is my newfound fascination with this chick, Marilyn Minter, whose work graces the cover of the latest edition of Time Out New York. She also has a featurette as part of their "Success" profile, and TONY was decidedly NOT shy about showing some of her more... exotic pieces. Regardless, I've looked this lady up and can say that I absolutely floves her eye for pure, unadulterated glamour trash. I also admire her embrace of the pornographic, and her emphasis of its truly bizarre aesthetic. As TONY points out, homegirl really does deliver in the same mode of a man. You know, like, a man with a raging, unforgiving hard-on.

Also, during my interwebz cruise for Minter, I came across CoolHunting.com and this other photographer who is totally awesometown. And makes me want to nom.

What would life be without prepubescent surveys circulating on Facebook?

To whom did you last give the finger to?
A priest.


If you had one thousand dollars, what would you buy?
150 12-packs of either Diet Coke or Bud Light.


What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?
Rum and diet. Or Christian Bale. I can't remember.


Where were you last night around 9:30?
Your mother's Hyundai Elantra.


How was the last egg you prepared?
Fertilized. ZING. (actually - that's gross)


Last song you listened to?
"Lovestoned"


Are you a forgiving person?
Yes. Provided there's a monetary supplement involved.


Last thing you drank?
The sweet nectar of the fountain of youth.


What is your current mood?
Drunky Malunkies.


What do you hear right now?
"Summer Love" (an ode to the only acquaintance of mine for whom I'd switch teams: AMYTANG)


Are you sarcastic?
....


Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Hellz yeah. How else would we learn? I mean get laid?


What do you do when you have a bad day?
A case, all by myself.


Pick a word that begins with the first letter of your first name?
Kangaroo bop.


How many states have you lived in?
Two. Unless you count the state of misunderstanding


Have you ever caught anything on fire?

My house maybe?
(I think this question means to ask have you ever SET anything else on fire, to which my answer would be "half the panties in Manhattan")


How long is your hair when it's wet?
That's what she said.


How many bathrooms are in your house?
Porto potties all the way, m'friend.


What was the last thing you took a bite of?
How wrong would it be to make two "your mom" jokes in one survey?


Do you drink soda?
Only if it's chased by a hearty glass of Bacardi.


What are you thinking about right now?
Dollas.


Have you ever been on an airplane?
A what?


Marriage in your future?
Who's askin?


Do you like your life?
Considering I was just violently ejected from from Slackoffwhileyourparentspay University. No, not at the moment.


Do you know anyone whose name starts with a Z?
Only this Mayor of Fox City.


Have you kissed in the rain?
Yeah, but I was compensated handsomely for it.


What are you doing tomorrow?
Tons of hot women. And maybe some Text Twist.


When is your birthday?
TODAY. Plz 2 hav caek?


Whats your favorite drink?
I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the heavens.


Do you have a job?
I don't want no scrubs. But seriously, only until I find a nice manz to pay for my addictions.


Do you like to read?
I read women like I read books.


Are you a nerd at heart?
Maybe in bed because I can never seem to stop giggling nervously.


What music do you listen to?
Same shit as the stuff to which I was conceived, I'm sure.

EI! EI! Oh.

I'd like to congratulate my roommate for starting a blog today. It looks great, particularly for something that was just started. You know how I know? Because she embedded a YouTube video and threw in a lot of hyperlinks!

Also she's a smart cookie and has meaningful things to say.

Finally this blog has some effin relevance in the world.

Holy shet!

My favorite VH1 commentator - or maybe the best talking head in the history of anything in the universe - Michael Ian Black, has challenged Tucker Max to a deathmatch. And in true (drunken) alpha male form, Tucker has heartily risen to the bait. Hurrah. My money's on Tucker, because he is like five times the size of Black with ten times the wired adrenaline, but Michael Ian Black does have that advantage of, you know, fully functional nerve endings and is like, a whole immune system ahead.

Michael Ian Black, by the by, is some hot ass shit right now. Not only because he's the only one worth watching on VH1's new nostalgia fest I Love the New Millennium, but also because he's June's Hot Slut of the Month on Dlisted. I'd post a video of him being filarious on VH1, but that's tired. Here he is in the greatest cinematic tour de force that God ever had the mercy to bestow upon mankind, Wet Hot American Summer:



UPDATE: Michael Ian Black roars with excitement! Tucker responds, "I assume that he is kidding about this. I am not at all. Once he realizes I am completely serious and that this means he is going to get punched in the face, I doubt he'll be as eager as he is now."

New Favorites! Or, longest post ever.

1. NOT eating avocado roll every day. For srsly. I love buying my groceries, making dinners and packing lunches (even if it's just sandwiches since we never called the gas company) and saving myself that $10/day. The economy is wack, yall. Your girl can't be wastin G's on anything other than hooch.

2. Summer film festival in Bryant Park. There's nothing like getting off work, heading straight to (probably) my favorite place in Manhattan - Bryant Park, eating cheese, getting wasted on the lawn, and waiting to watch a dumb old-timey movie. The past few times I've gone the films have been boring as H-E-double hockey sticks, but being able to lie back and stare at the tips of sky scrapers under a totally open sky, hearing the far-off sounds of cosmopolitanism, and listening to the crackly mid-century voices of Turner Classic movie stars is really surreal. I tend to get a little TOO drunkies, and once all the wine's done I decide to sing theme songs or mock people on neighboring blankets loudly, and that spending 45 minutes on a train rather than finishing a story I haven't paid attention to is more important, but regardless, the two hours prior are golden summer moments. (Also, props to NYC Parks Commission for making the bathrooms there literally look like bathrooms at the fucking Rainbow Room. Yes. I've tried them. Two toilet paper rolls up!)

3. Going home. I used to come down on myself for being too much of a baby to not stay in the city for more than a month or two at a time, but fuck that. My family rocks hardcore, my mom's a hot ass bitch, and we threw a fucking kick-ass party at our joint this weekend. I come from one hot brood, yall.

4. Being employed. Duh.

5. VH1's new dark horse I Love Money. I know I said I was so disappointed in VH1 in my last post, and to be truthful, I am. The way they pinch off no-fuss reality shit shows, recycling tired old characters who we can all clock in at 15:01, really bastardizes the great channel I grew up with. And the title? "I Love Money"? Holy shit, VH1, you never cease to astound us with the things you come up with. Especially because 75% of your programming now starts with "I Love ___" or is book-ended as "Best ___ Ever."

But I digress. The title of this post is "New Favorites," and I must admit that since I try everything once (thatswhatshesaid) I HAVE lent VH1's new craptacular experiment the privilege of my attention. And - oh shit - I'm hooked. Natch. It's like MTV's Real World/ Road Rules Challenge, except everyone comes in already being hilarious - ain't no semblance of dignity here. What's more, it actually looks like (despite their ruthless efforts to become real actors) people actually seem to get along! Here's a video of the first contestant to get the boot talkin some sexist STD smack. Oh, Midget Mac you will (not) be missed, you bite-size little nugget of douche.

VH1 TV Shows

Music Videos

Celebrity Photos

News & Gossip

6. My neighborhood. For the longest time I thought that I had rushed into settling into anapartment in which I'd never be fully content, mainly because it was like eons from the L (or the G) train and way too close to the BQE. I thought the only thing that surrounded me was a Staples, a McDonalds, and really really shitty fall-out shelter type delis that were only good for selling candy bars and mediocre Boar's Head. But tis not so. Recent excursions have brought me around greater Greenpoint (which really is only in the opposite direction of the L - shame on my nonadventurous self!), and I've discovered it's actually SO lovely. And I actually CAN access a grocery store and laundry place. I've been running (yeah you heard me!) around McGolrick Park, which is flanked by two very pretty churches, a 19th-century public school, and tons of trees. Inside the park are really gorgeous paths littered with benches, some gorgeous statues, a neoclassical pavillion, a dog run, and billions of kids riding bikes and catching fireflies. Sound fruity? It totally is. But it's so much better than the situation I thought I was in. Brooklyn, I actually DO heart you. And if you need any more evidence that Greenpoint does not equal shithole, then check out this dude's little vignettes on the hood in Lost City, which include two McGolrick park inhabitants: the "Luncheonette/Fountain" corpse and the Palace Cafe. Which I have yet to try.

7. Speaking of - Lost City! Loves how this guy unearths the past of some facades of what we'd typically refer to as tack city - or look past all together. I'm puttin this bitch in Babylinks.

8. Boys you can find state side. Take it from Estelle, Kanye, and my new favorite jam:

Oh hell naw.

Oh no she dih-ent.

Thanks to Dlisted, I can access the baser forum of current events without shame - you know, without feeling guilty for not reading the feminist-inspired Jezebel, keeping tabs in the New Yorker, or starting my day with a financially jargoned episode of "Squawk Box." (A happy medium = just going to Whole Foods or the nearest news kiosk and getting a TONY - fawesome!)

Anyway. I was relaxing my eyes this afternoon from the harsh love of Microsoft Excel when I happened upon this travesty posted by favorite Perez Hilton wannabe sight.

I whole heartedly support New York and all - in ALL her nationally televised faux romantic/ authentic promiscuous endeavors, but homegirl (read: Vh1) needs to realize when enough is S.R.S.L.Y. ee-nuff. We don't need a third I Love New York, nor do we need a shittier version of Lohan's shitty Monroe photographic "tribute." This is downright lazy and overconfident. Vh1 has mastered the celebrity-for-the-sake-of-celebrity genre, and the understanding that their audience is similar to that of a blog: urban, (completely) self-centered, thriving purely on its circumspection of every other social class via the interwebz, and ironically "normal," for which I applaud them. But honestly, is THIS what it has come to?

P.S.: Loves how the good stoner lackies over at my favorite network DON'T EVEN BOTHER to AIRBRUSH those pics. Aces!

VH1, you do not disappoint.

The season finale of Rock of Love 2 aired last night, and boy am I glad I did not have money riding on that shizz! In the surprise of the century, Bret picked the most NORMAL girl in the competition, Ambre (who, to quote Daisy, is "like 80 years old and so boring"), and let Lil Mis Lips-n-Tits know that her tour ended there in Cancun. Unfortunately, in my opinion, this charming little piece of croissant didn't put enough la resistance up to stick it out till le fin. Oh well, c'est la vie. The best part of the episode? Bret's suavely classy choice of last words: "Now let's go have hot monkey sex." Wow Bret; be still my beating heart.

Not to assume that this outcome is the product of any real "feelings" or "relationship growth," but I can at least rejoice in the mere semblance of good decision making on Bret's part. I'm proud that he chose someone not only close to his own age (Bret, contrary to your paranoia, you aint foolin anyone into thinking you're 29, though I understand how mounting ultraviolet guitars on your wall and riding hogs around your living room can be deceiving), but also someone whose already-obnoxious valley girl accent, poor vocabulary, and sub-par inarticulate speaking skills are not smothered by the gargantuan amount of collagen in her face. Daisy does not look her own age; she looks like a 58-year-old TRYING to look her own age. Gugh. Just so glad that gal is out the door. I cannot WAIT for the reunion show.





SEE YA, HO! --->










Unfortunately I didn't have the wherewithal to stick around for Viva Hollywood, nor do I anticipate holding any interest in that show - NO GRACIAS, SENOR. But I did visit VH1's site to see if there were any deleted scenes from ROL2 of my favorite skanky skank skankishly skanking things up. There, I discovered under the "VH1 Classic" section the glorious and sacred cache of Pop-Up videos. I thought that stuff was lost and gone forever with the rest of the flannel and polyester 90s. Needless to say, I spent about 4,329 hours watching some of the videos VH1 had posted (there are roughly 80 for your viewing pah-leasure in two separate links). Something about them made me so nostalgic for the days of Limited Too, awkward middle school dances, body glitter and shitty lip gloss, and writing three different letters to Leoanardo DiCaprio but then not sending them because I was a pussy. It reminded me of when VH1 had a little bit of integrity, even though it catered to the likes of vanilla middle-aged yuppies, like when it aired stuff like VH1 Storytellers, Behind the Music, the VH1 and Vogue Fashion Awards, and even those crappy Diva concerts. I still watched it, bland as it was (not bland but totally fucking rad = Pop-Up Video). But I must say now more than ever, VH1, I really appreciate that you've degraded yourself to the baser interests of human devolution.

What I do when I'm at work

A couple of years ago I stumbled onto one of the most clever art duos I've ever come across. My favorite of their series is linked in the little "Talk about this at parties" section of my blog, and they are husband-and-wife team Drew and Natalie Dee. Aside from their respective webcomics, they also team up on stuff like Married to the Sea. Drew and Natalie create awesome little epithets from vintage designs, crude drawings, and little videos and blogs about their life in Columbus, Ohio with their pugs Charles and Chester. Hopefully when I grow up, my spirit will remain the same marriage of biting cynicism and endearing humor that these two seem to maintain. Here is one of my favorite additions from Drew's site Where are the Dogs Humping: