Tuesday, November 28, 2006

whorebag zeitgeist

so i'll tell you what's up today--i am as puffy as the marshmallow man. not the special effects marshmallow man of the ghostbusters movie, but the one depicted in the cartoon version because he has puffier eyes.

and it's my own fault because i decided to eat--gasp--chinese food after eight last night. the profound correlation between sodium-rich foods and increased eye puffage has taken a grossly overrated manifestation on my pretty visage. IT'S NOT FAIR! and having the most technologically advanced cosmetic potions on hand does nothing. do you hear me, la prairie? NOTHING! do you hear me YSL? not a damn thing for puffiness!
so here i sit with two little air-inflated trampolines under my eyes and a face that rivals that of fat anna nicole.
real cute.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

the word of the day is

"last time i took someone's word for it..."
so today, while eavesdropping, as usual, on the conversation behind me, i overheard a colleague remark, "she said to take her word for it." my mind snapped into action, like a rubber band. "time for a witty remark," i thought.
so i turned around, and as nonchalantly as putting a stack of napkins in a drawer, i said, "last time i took someone's word for it, i ended up with crabs."**
the look of horror on their faces would've made any mother cry. stunning.

so, kids, your assignment today is to contribute to the vice "the last time i took someone's word for it" pool. and keep it dirty.

**this statement is obviously untrue, but if it'll make you happier to think i once endured an std, by all means keep it.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

the rant issue

it's that time of week where either i spontaneously realize that something has consistently pissed me off and it's time to illuminate it, or i've had a particularly stressful day and the occurrence of a certain annoying act has sent me over the edge and into a fit of ranting and raging.
so here goes.

bluetooth earpiece devices
nothing is more annoying than people who walk around with these fucking things stuck to their ears. as a matter of fact, i don't think they're even people anymore. they've got to be a race of once-perfect humans who, in an impulse to seamlessly fit in with ever-evolving technological advancements, sold their souls and certain organic human elements to some dark force that facilitated their transformation into cyborgs (read: part human, part robot). and these cyborgs run every walk of life, from office managers to construction workers to soccer moms to elderly citizens with too much modern knowledge of technology for their own good (or their former good). why else, then, is it necessary to go EVERYWHERE with these electronic modules attached to one's head? and i'm not using 'everywhere' as some convenient, all-inclusive word--it IS everywhere, from casual trips in the car (the only real acceptable reason for constant use of this device), to parking lot walks from the car to the wal*mart, to day-long jaunts at the mall (which makes attempts at fashionable dressing quite futile--no matter how many colors the fucking thing comes in, it STILL isn't a viable accessory!), even to church! to endure the whole mass, as if God plans on singling out his new team of apostles via private cellphone calls!
so the word is--it's a great thing to possess such technology that allows one to perform the once tedious act of making a phone call (remember all that sliding around the dial of a rotary phone?! oy!) without one stroke of a finger, but it's quite another to allow such a advancement to place us in such bondage, such arresting positions as to require the constant usage of a device--are we on house arrest? for cryin' in the sink!

rant #2
price of traveling

this is an issue with which i've had a huge, longwithstanding problem, but always thought it inappropriate to bitch about...but here goes. after picking around ikea tonight (i'm sick, and looking haggard at ikea is much more acceptable than at neiman marcus), i was walking out to my car and i couldn't help but watch as plane after plane took off from the newark airport. there's no denying that everyone aboard those planes was going somewhere--some for pleasure, some for business, some to attend shiva, some without plans of returning. whatev--i digress. and it made me think that i'd like to travel more--a lot more. unfortunately, though my job is fabulous, it sure doesn't pay that way and so my two-month safari through egypt is indefinitely on hold. and this prompted me to contemplate, why in fucking hell does it cost so much to travel? we're all on the same earth--it's not like the pyramids and paris lie in different universes. they're both mere hours away, and also thousands of dollars. like, who suddenly said, "let's make the otherwise easy task of going from 'here' to 'there' difficult and expensive!!?" honestly--it's getting out of control.
even more so that i deserve to travel to amazing places. i'm the type of person who, upon landing in a foreign culture, strives to immerse himself in that culture as a way of seeing his poor, gentrified, sadly-undercultured, saturated-fat-obsessed (read: AMERICAN) culture from a different perspective. i deserve to live amongst the masai warriors of kenya and outrun lions and eat warthogs, and look back on my pennsylvania upbringing and say, "take this up the mall, fuckers!" you know, "eat that with your stone-washed boot-cut jeans. and when you're done, go build another abercombie!" yeah. ok i'm done with that.
but back to the point. i deserve to have a house on bondi beach in australia, and a shack amongst the aborigines of new zealand, raising sheep and eating indiginous food. and yet my wallet lies empty, next to my yearnings.
but don't you worry, because when i take over, i'm going to make world travel a government-subsidized institution, so that everybody who years to discover new cultures and see the seven wonders of the world in a week and fuck a prostitute in amsterdan can do so--and the only thing they'll have to pay for is the five-star hotel or cheap brothel in which they choose to accommodate themselves. airborne terrorism will be a thing of the past, as every pissed off muslim renegade will see his chance to realize boyhood dreams of running naked through the irish countryside with a red-haired virgin and a labrador retriever on his heels and totally ditch osama and all that crazy shizz. and plenty of hot indians will come to america to instinctually find me and ask me to write books about them. and the whole america=white trash situation will totally resolve itself, as those yearning to escape the oppressive reign of the oklahoma government will see themselves going east or west on the amtrak express, pro bono, to pursue dreams of becoming actors and actresses or senate officials or hustlers (or both), while those who are fed up with the fast-track life on opposing coasts can move back home to the midwest, reclaiming their white trash youths, for the plane ticket they thought would completely sop up a year's worth of rent is suddenly not an issue. america will be fabulous again. maybe we'll even change our colors--i may be alone here, but i'm a little tired of red, whie & blue. how about red, black and orange? hot!
all because of me.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

a new argentina day

today is dedicated to the song a new argentina from the evita soundtrack--the madonna one, of course.

rude awakening

so this morning, as i struggled to stay upright against the couch while my morning raged on, the usual commercial lineup of lifetime tv played as usual: campbell's tomato soup...the sunday movie premiere ("murder in the hamptons"), and sally field's new venture, the osteoporosis solution boniva. then suddenly, a familiar tune caught my ear--rock the casbah! just the melody, mind you, but played to the most obscure of visuals-a DRYEL commercial! the home dry-cleaning system, complete with an 800 number and all, was being acted out by some brunette to the tune of one of my top 5 iTunes played songs! go fig. what would inspire such a combination?
what correlation does 'rock the casbah' and dryel have in common?
i'm perplexed...i really am.

Thursday, November 09, 2006


today we're going to protest all sorts of things--not typical protest fare, like fur and foie gras and the circus, but real issues that cause all sorts of daily inconveniences...like ketchup packets and hot air hand dryers.

ketchup packets:
they're too small, terribly messy, and always dirty. just because a foil and plastic sheath separates the miniscule amount of america's premier condiment from the rest of the filthy world doesn't mean contamination never happens. because it does.
and why are they so damn small? i mean, honestly--unless one fry constitutes a meal for someone, and i'm sure in some far reach of the world it does, one packet of ketchup is NEVER enough. no circumstance calls for a mere teaspoon full of ketchup, half of which gets stuck to the gross packaging anyway. what about double-size ketchup packets? it only makes sense--it's not THAT much more, and just think of the auxiliary benefits! advertisers can put pictures and ads on the back--bigger space means more words, larger pictures and therefore, better ads! yeah!

hot air hand dryers:
ugh. number one--who has the fucking time to wait? i know environmentalists around the world will condemn my scoff of this exceptionally waste-free means of drying one's hands, but for real--i don't have time to stand in front of a dryer for a minute and a half while others wait to do the same behind me...tapping their feet impatiently, as if i have control over the water's evaporation from my hands. oy.

Monday, November 06, 2006


no, i'm not jewish. it just made sense.

i'm not taking the usual pains to point out that it's been forev since my last posting, and to blab on about what those hindering reasons may have been. the fact is i'm here, and that's a good thing.

so the first thing is the newly gay neil patrick harris! yeah, welcome to the club! we're so supportive!!


ooh, he's gay! no. 1: who gives a shit? so am i! so is chris! so is david! so is mary, deborah, and millions of other people out there. it's just that they don't get the revelation dragged out of them.
i just think it's so pathetic that for celebrities, coming out is such a negative thing. sure, it's just another gay rights ally in the public eye, but what does it take for them to get there? months and years of outright denial and constant pestering, until, finally, they *admit* the rumors are true.

no. 2: i speak for america when i say that rumors are rarely good things. nobody starts rumors like, "marybeth's hair looks wonderful! pass it on," or, "joe is such a wonderful person--can you believe it?!" no, it's all negative negative negative--and for one to come out after such a long period of speculation has had a chance to ferment and become more potent, they're simply giving the crowd that created such negative publicity exactly what they want.

just once i'd love to see a celebrity, upon the first speculation that they just might be a homo, come out and say, "yes, i'm gay. get the fuck over it." even if they're not, it would be nice of them to give a more detailed answer, rather than just let the foaming mouth of rumors get all gross. they could say, "i know why you think i'm gay--i dress to kill, my skin is gorgeous, and i'm friends with alan cumming--but i'm not, so stop." that's all the fucking media would need!

i also think to be so apprehensive indicates that people should, indeed, express unnecessary concern that one is gay; that such an admittance is, in fact, deserving of a negative, perlustrous response.
the end.

so now i'd also like to talk about my new favorite spectating activity: it's called "the iPod snag," and it's popping up everywhere. none of us are safe.
perhaps you've even experienced the iPod snag for yourself! picture walking down the street, iPod tucked in your pocket, safely away from nefarious children and iPod snatchers, earbuds in your ears, and that wire dangling from ear to pocket is dangerously attractive to protruding buttons, zipper pulls and fingers. one minute the music is pleasantly blaring in your ears. the next, one of the aforementioned liabilities snags that loose wire, rudely yanking the earbuds RIGHT out of your ears, abruptly interrupting your tune flow and screwing up the lines you were singing.
the real challenge in this situation is just to whom we should direct our sudden, yet very appropriate, anger: the person, whose inanimate button inadvertently snagged your iPod wire, or apple, the prolific mother of the iPod, who haven't yet introduced a way for one to enjoy their iPod without such burdensome hassles as a wire.
personally, i direct my anger to the bastard who's unfortunate enough to own, or wear, the item that snags my wire.
on the brighter side, maybe it's not such a bad thing--one can potentially 'snag their soulmate in such a manner!

and with that, i'm out!!