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Thursday, August 31, 2006

Bouncey Bouncey

Gummi Bears rocks my fuckin' party! Cheesy theme songs are awesome!!

Shittin' Skittles

Yes kids, it's like that!

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Return of the 80's

The 80s are back... in remix form!

Three of my somewhat recently favorite songs are remixes of 80s songs:

"Call on Me" - Eric Prydz
"Everywhere" - LNM Projekt
"Out of Touch" - Uniting Nations

How crazy is that? But you know what, I LOVE the songs! They're so much fun.

I heart the cheesy music of the 80s. It's the decade that gave us Boy George... now back, in super-sized form. And also in orange jumpsuit form :)

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Good Wife

Child, I think I need me a good wife. The bullshit with boys just isn't working out. I need someone who will cook and clean and take care of the chil'runs. Oh wait, that's just an indentured servant. Whatever, that'll do, too.

Click the picture below for a larger, presumably more legible, version:

Monday, August 28, 2006

Sister Gets Tasered

I just saw this video on Shirley Q. Liquor's site called Sister Gets Tazered. It's some chick on COPS or something. I don't know whether to laugh hysterically or feel really bad for her because that shit seems like it's REALLLY fucking painful!!

I guess Sister did the right thing because there's a Court TV logo at the bottom corner of the video. If someone's ass tazed me, I'd sue the shit out of them and taze them in the nuts as part of the settlement. People are fucking crazy. Good grief.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

You're a Barbie Girl

Stop!!! WHY are European kids so crazy?!?! They do the most embarassing things and then broadcast them over the internet. This little boy is too much!! I like how he queens out when he's singing the Barbie part. It's a riot!

He needs to work on his choreography, though. It's somewhat lacking.

Ok honestly, this would be me if I were at home bored on a Friday night... but there'd be a Vornado fan involved and I'd have better moves.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Miss Ross

I need love, love
To ease my mind
I need to find, find someone to call mine
But mama said

You cant hurry love
No, you just have to wait
She said love dont come easy
Its a game of give and take

I think this is going to be my theme song for the day / weekend. I somehow landed in this Diana Ross vortex, whereby I've been listening to a shitload of her (and the Supremes -- let's not forget them) songs. But "You Can't Hurry Love" is sticking in my head today... with "Reflections" coming in at a close second.

Ok, honestly, as I'm skimming through the titles of her songs, she basically only sings about one thing: Heartache and yearning (ok, that's two things, but they're closely related!)

  • Someday we'll be together
  • You can't hurry love
  • You keep me hanging on
  • Stop! In the name of love
  • Where did our love go?
  • Reflections
God damn!! She's probably not going to win the "Inspirational Speaker of the Year" award.

Then she gives up on love and announces, "I'm Coming Out"!!

Ebonics Airways

Shirley Q. Liquor rocks my party! She's a trip and a half and always makes me smile. Any white man who dresses up as a black woman just cracks me up. Someday me talk pretty just like her.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Types of Friends (Continued)

So I was sitting around and came up with a couple more types of friends that weren't included in the list I posted earlier.

The Unreliable Friend: this is the friend who, no matter how much you think you can count on them, always lets you down. You have to hold their hand every step of the way just to make sure they do what they say they're going to do. I can't stand these friends, yet somehow I've amassed a small army of them. Maybe I should just pit them against each other.

The Plan B Friend: This is the friend who you always put on the back-burner. It's the one you really don't want to hang out with, but you make plans with him or her anyway, just in case your real plans fall through. These friends rarely ever make it to the level of being an actual friend. However, these are typically the most reliable friends, as they rarely have a life of their own.

The Plan A Friend: Is the reason why the Plan B friend exists. This is the friend you really want to hang out and spend quality time with, but for one reason or another, the plans just rarely seem to work out. This could be because it's a friend who's always busy, one whose schedule is just completely variable, or they could be an Unreliable Friend. In any case, you're still friends with them because you like spending time with them, when it actually happens, and basically put off making actual plans until you hear from them.

The Incompetent Friend: This is the friend who, for one reason or another, just can't seem to do anything right. Either they just lack the ability to do anything at all, or they're just a complete fuck up and wreck stuff. Either way, you're always picking up the slack when you're around them. These friends usually don't last very long.

The What-the-Fuck-Happened Friend: This is the friend who you're suddenly no longer friends with. Either one or neither of you know what happened, but suddenly you're just not friends. Puzzling.

The Frenemy: From Sex and the City, these are the friends you have who really are just enemies in disguise. They're either once good friends turned devious, or they're ones who never were that good, but someone you became friends with them, or they're ones you're in competition with. Regardless, these are friends who are kept at arm's length and who you really don't trust at all because they take any bit of information and use it to their own advantage.

The Socially-Inept Friend: This is the friend who seems to have minimal or no social skills whatsoever. You're typically friends with them as the result of some social obligation -- ie, they're a co-worker, a relative, a good friend's friend, a friend's charity case, your own charity case, etc. The bottom line is, you're pretty much stuck with them. These friends seem to lack the ability to grasp social decency and say outlandishly inappropriate things when in mixed company or just make situations awkward.

Solar System

Apparently Pluto is now the bastard child of the Solar System. Scientists have reclassified the Solar System so it now includes only 8 planets. Since Pluto is so ghetto and is surrounded by other hunks of lifeless bullshit, it was relegated to 'dwarf planet' status. Pluto joins the ranks of fellow not-good-enough-to-be-planets planets Ceres and UB 313 (aka, Xena). That's weak.

So now what will children learn in elementary school? The whole mnemonic device for remembering the order of the planets will be all fucked up!! Instead of "My Very Excited Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas" (ie, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto), it's going to be "My Very Exasperated Mother Just Served Us NOTHING!".

Don't scientists ever think about the repercussions of their actions and how they will affect elementary school kids? Won't someone PLEASE think of the children????

Thursday, August 24, 2006

All Ya'll Bitches Look the Same to Me!

Check out this site and let me know how you score on it. I'm kinda annoyed that the site's name is broken engrish, but whatever: AllLookSame.com

The Rice Queen who sent me the link to it scored a 2. Two of his asian friends scored a 5 and 7, respectively. My friends scored a 4, 7, and 8. This other asian kid scored a 9.

I basically put no effort into it, spent 5 seconds on each face, and scored a 10. I don't know if that's bad or good. I seemed to have scored the highest out of everyone I know, which is scary. So lemme know what you got!

Get Your Fuck On!

Baby-Stompers are coming to a pharmacy and health clinic near you! The FDA approved the 'Morning-After Pill' for over-the-counter sale to women 18 and older. I love how the drug is called Plan B. That's priceless. That's what I'm going to name my kid when he pops out of my womb because they ran out of Plan B at the CVS and I didn't have time to abort his ass.

I always throught the pill was called RU486, which sounds equally as funny because it's like "Are you for 86'ing this baby??" Survey says?? "Yes"

Obviously, some people are going ape-shit over the FDA's decision, but studies apparently suggest that Americans have SO much unprotected and sex resulting in unplanned pregnancies that offering Plan B as an OTC option would make no difference on the promiscuity of the American public. Niiiiiiice. Hopeless causes are fun!!

So my fellow Americans, continue to fuck your brains out. Just remember to take your Vitamin B in the morning! That's a hangover you DON'T want to deal with for the next 18 years or until a court-ordered child divorce.

Things That Do Not Impress Me

As I rode a long-ass subway ride home all the way from Harlem, a couple of things popped into my head. So here goes.

Things That Do Not Impress Me:

- People who give money to "the homeless" on the subway. It annoys me that people are such suckers! It's always the same routine "My children and I lost our home in a fire. I hope this never happens to you. Give me money. God Bless." Please, if that were true, who's watching your kids?? Are MY tax dollars paying for your kids to be watched?? Get a JOB!

- Models. OK, aside from me, who ISN'T a model?! Honestly, it seems as if everyone's been a model in some way, shape, or form. Either you did runway or print (or porn?) or were asked to be a model, but declined. I'm over it. It was impressive at first, but once you realize that EVERYONE else is a model, it kind of loses its luster. I still love them all, but it's tacky when people bring it up just to impress you. If I hear one more person "casually" throw in the word "Milan" when talking about a job they did, I'll yac on the floor.

- Bad Breath. This should just be self-explanatory. What's the tactful way to tell someone they have bad breath? If you're given gum more than twice in one evening, then it's time you purchased some gum of your own, and possibly a tongue scraper.

- People who think they're fabulous. I can't handle un-fabulous people throwing around the word "fabulous" because they think it makes them fabulous. "Fabulous" is tired, use a new word. And anyway, you're only "Fabulous" when someone who's ACTUALLY fabulous tells you you are. Until then, you're just you. Ordinary. And that's ok. Fabulosity is generic and overrated.

- People who try. Don't try. Trying is for chumps. Just be. Just do. I hate it when people try to be something they're not, because everyone can see right through it. If you don't think you're good enough, then maybe you're not :) And you should do something else. But blatantly trying is just sad. People should be content with who they are and strive to improve, but don't overact it in the process. That's for people who sat at the losers table in high school. :)

I think that's all for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll compile a list of things that DO impress me :)

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Bringing Sexy Back

It just dawned on me that Justin Timberlake is going to be in the city soon. He's taping an episode of Ellen and then the VMAs are happening soon, I think. So that just means that I need to get up on finding this boy!!

I already missed my chance to climb up on him at his Halloween party and then after the No Doubt concert, so I can't drop the ball this time.

I'm on top of it, though. My friend's liquor company is sponsoring a bunch of VMA events, so I should be able to find out if he'll be there. Then I emailed another friend about the VMAs and apparently he just slept with the PR manager, so I guess he was on top of that -- no pun intended.

We'll see how this exercise in insanity pans out. How exciting!

19 Types of Friends

I came across this document on my computer and thought I'd post it. It's pretty amusing and has some "ah-ha" value to it. Hmmm, which kind of friend do you think you are to me?? And which kind of friend am I to you??

I think I could add more types to this list, but we'll see...

The 19 kinds of friends

By Jeremiah Creedon, Utne Reader

For reasons we can never know, fate brings friend to friend, then leaves the rest to human nature. The results are mixed. While a few special friendships last a lifetime, the vast majority prove easier to leave behind. Some take years to fade away; others end spectacularly. Research shows that the quickest way to end a friendship is betrayal; the second-quickest, a canoe trip.

In fact, we have to lose a few friends before we can appreciate their most important gift: the stories we share. In hearing these stories, you may begin to sense a deeper truth, that our friends and friendships are not as unique as we first believed. They’re more like summer movies: the dialogue changes (kind of) but the plots and characters keep recurring. Here’s a catalog of the archetypal friends that over the course of a life you’re likely to encounter again and again.

The Best Friend: The gold standard of friendships. A best friend listens but never judges, helps you out of a jam, tells it to you straight, and often forgives a debt. Best friends resemble invisible friends in that both are most common in childhood (and may not really exist).

The Old Friend: Ideally, a lifelong bond that stirs fond feelings and cherished memories—unless you’re a celebrity or out on parole. In reality, most old friendships are embedded in a complex economy of favors. President Bush rewrote the entire tax code for his old friends.

The Older Friend: Two varieties:
(1) Someone your senior who mentors you with wit and wisdom, as portrayed in the best-seller Tuesdays with Morrie. (2) The client of an escort service, as detailed in the cult classic Wednesdays with Brianna.

The New Friend: Generally speaking, a person who can do no wrong until you’ve had a few more outings together. New friends are more likely to enjoy your stories and show up on time. It’s also easier to be who you are with a new friend, as opposed to who you were—which is what you end up being most of the time with your old friends.

The Wild Friend: The friend whose bad behavior never ceases to entertain and may at times inspire you, for better or for worse. Though wild friends get a bad rap, they save as many lives as they ruin. Boring people—writers, for instance—desperately need wild friends.

The Ex-Friend: Don’t ask, but if you do, the answer may well involve money or sex. Or both.

The Scary Friend: Someone who never fails to nudge you out of your comfort zone—way out. Scary does not mean quirky. If a friend likes to spend his weekends re-enacting Civil War battles in period dress, that’s quirky. If he shows up at your door in uniform late on a weeknight, that’s scary.

The Boss Friend: A person higher on the org chart who thinks your brittle smile and the startled look in your eye is an invitation to further terrorize you outside the workplace. One reason golf is popular in the business world is that it gives underlings a way to pal around with their superiors and still stay 30 yards apart.

The Train or Bus Friend: A person who apparently shares your unquenchable interest in the weather and the fortunes of the local ball team.

The Confidant: Someone who wheedles more out of you than you planned to share. Sadly, many confidants are also talented gossips who will soon be bartering your deepest secrets for someone else’s.

The Single-Modifier Friend: Any companion you proudly describe, if only to yourself, with one word: for instance, "my gay friend" if you happen to be straight, and vice versa. You can train yourself out of the habit by slowly adding modifiers, as in "my neat gay friend" or, with practice, "my socially inept and secretly homophobic straight friend with a godawfully bad haircut."

The E-mail Friend: A digital update on the kind of letter-writing friendships that thrived in the era between the invention of ink and the arrival of cable. If the medium is the message, as Marshall McLuhan claimed, then the message of most e-mail friendships is goofing off at work.

The Special-Interest Friend: Group friendships form around a shared passion—for soccer, French cooking, sky-diving. Special-interest friends often go by nicknames, usually be-cause they don’t know real names or anything else about each other be-yond their common interest. Which can create problems. If you run into your softball team’s home run leader in the courthouse, it’s probably not a good idea to shout "Hey, Killer!" You might influence the jury.

The Friend-You-Only-Drink-With Friend: A subspecies of the special-interest friend. In extreme cases you might not even recognize such people in the harsh light of day, having only seen them in the barroom glow—and from the side.

The Treatment Friend: Same as above, but in that harsh light. Like bonds formed at summer camps and religious retreats, treatment friendships may soon dim outside the virtual reality from which they grew.

The Road-Trip Friend: From Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady to Thelma and Louise, the rolling duo is ingrained in American myth. Romantic notions aside, a good road buddy can read a map, is willing to bathe, and has a credit card and a driver’s license—preferably in the same name.

The Secondhand Friend: When someone introduces you to someone else, supposedly because they think you’ll hit it off, it could be a clever strategy to ditch you both. Which is good: Secondhand friends are a better deal than new friends, which, like cars, lose 20 percent of their value once they leave the showroom floor.

The Dormant Friend: Every so often a dead friendship will spring back to life, bringing two people even closer together than they used to be. The reawakened friendship speaks to the mystery of friendship in general—especially if you’ve forgotten why you drifted apart. But give it time; you will be reminded.

The Friend with Benefits: Not the kid down the street with a trampoline or a parrot that swears. We’re talking sex buddies. Popularized in a lyric by singer Alanis Morissette, friends with benefits were actually observed and documented years ago by anthropologist Margaret Mead in Coming of Age in Samoa. Caution: Sex for the fun of it may be illegal in 13 states and the District of Columbia.

Quote Me, Bitch!

I was reading through my old blog and am just thoroughly amused at the inane shit that flies out of my mouth and onto the computer screen. Here are some of my favorite excerpts from past postings:

  • "They say Death comes in threes -- I think Death is like a porn star: it just comes all over the damn place and doesn't give a shit about who it hits."
  • "...like a colon after a steak dinner -- everything came to a grinding halt"
  • “Dude, I just wanted a quick fix!! I’m not in it for the long haul! Now get up on me and make it feel better!” - my mental response to Chiropractors who seem to always want to put you on a 18-month schedule of appointments... or was that my response to a hung trick. Either way, the sentiment is still valid.
  • "... you can create your own hoodies! I want one that reads "Foggy Bottom"" - my response after I just learned about Neighborhoodies, referring to a neighborhood in DC.
  • Gothamwhore: Hey, I'll be home for Christmas, but only for the weekend. We should hang out while I'm in town
    Friend: Ok, but I'm busy most of the weekend. I have two birthday parties on Friday and Saturday
    Gothamwhore: Who the fuck has a birthday on Christmas???
    Friend: Well, Jesus Christ for one....
    Gothamwhore: Touche...
It makes me happy that I can find myself so amusing :)

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Umm, McFly??

OK, sometimes I'm just straight up stoopid and say ridiculously embarassing things. This should come as no surprise.

Lately I've been obsessed with this Prince song. Essentially, I'm running around listening to it on my iPod and telling people things like "I LOVE the new Prince song! It's so much fun!" Then I'll even say shit like "I think it's a song from Musicology!" Yeah, this has been going on for at least five days. Lemme just tell you that there are a couple things wrong. First of all, after some Googling, it seems that Musicology is not Prince's most recent album. Whoops! Secondly, the song I like, "I Wanna Be Your Lover" was originally on the album titled Prince, which came out in 1979. 19-fuckin-79!!!!!! Shit's not new!!! It's as old as I am!!!!

Thankfully, though, I'm not the only one who seems to be misinformed and acting on it.

My friend just told me a story about how she was trying to buy a saltwater fish for her friend's aquarium. She knew the type of fish she wanted, the same kind in Finding Nemo: a Dory fish. So she goes with another friend to the fish store and is like "Hi, I'm trying to get a Dory fish" and eventually finds the tank with the type of fish she wants. When she speaks with the salesperson, she reasserts her desire for a Dory fish, yet isn't sure how much one would cost since the labels of prices on the fish tank don't include 'Dory Fish'. Her friend, who also apparently knows jack shit about fish, is equally as confused, since there's only one type of fish in the tank.

It's a good while before the salesperson, who probably can't restrain his laughter, enlightens them. The reason why there isn't a price tag for the Dory fish is because there's no such thing as a Dory fish. The fish they want is a motherfuckin-Tang! Dory was the name of the tang fish in the stupid Finding Nemo movie! It's not the name of the type of fish!!

So I take a little bit of solace in knowing that I'm not the only one running around saying stupid shit. At least my friends are doing the same retarded shit, too!


I found $20 while walking down the street before dinner tonight. HOW fucking lucky am I?!?!

Monday, August 21, 2006

Stream of Consciousness

So today was pretty random, fraught with twists and turns of no consequence whatsoever.

I met a good friend for lunch at Coffee Shop, which I like because of the salads, but hate because of the models and actors who work there. If they weren't so busy with their lines (either snorting them or practicing memorizing them) then maybe they'd have some time to take my order. But I digress...

We were sitting there having a cute little lunch when I look over and see a fairly famous (ok, not so much now, but going to be really famous soon) actor guy I met a month or so ago, eating at a booth across the way from us. He's a very handsome guy, but he was looking a little umm... 'dressed down' today, so it was hard to recognize him. Plus he was talking on the phone, so I only saw the side of his face. I had called and left a voicemail a week or so ago, but never heard anything back from him. Whatevs. But I was glad to bump into him today. When I was about 80% sure it was him, I kinda leaned out and waved, to which he (thankfully!) waved back with a "Hey!!". When he was off the phone he stopped by to say hi and chat. I asked him if he was going to the MAO Magazine party, and he said he wasn't sure. So naturally I invited him along, since it'll most likely be a good time.

Fast forward to later tonight, when I get an email from a designer friend of mine (that means she's a designer, not a brand-name friend... although that's a nice idea.. I gotta get me one of those!) who mentioned that another friend's group will be performing at the MAO Magazine party on August 26th and needs more clothes from her.

So this is the part where I panic because I seriously have NO idea when this thing is and apparently I didn't get an invitation in the mail, which alarms me since I know the guy who runs the company. Because I'm mental, I send out a slew of text messages and emails trying to find out when the fuck this party actually is. Because I'm mental, I also have to go into a whole diatribe in blog form just because I can't deal with the paradox before me. I thought the party typically kicked off Fashion Week, hence it would be in September, but maybe I'm wrong. But I don't want to be wrong because that would just fuck up my plans.

There's no real conclusion to the story... yet. It's just yet another insane rambling that, much like a brand new pencil, is long and pointless.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Some Lacist Burrshit

This clip from an episode of Drawn Together kills me! Godzilla's sign reads "House Monster". They did not...

Friday, August 18, 2006

Nautical Sushi

News titles just crack me up. Ok, this one grossed me out: Fishermen survive months at sea eating birds. That's fuckin' nasty.
We ate raw fish, ducks, sea gulls. We took down any bird that landed on our boat and we ate it like that, raw
Eww, dude! Damn. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do to survive.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

White Trash Name; White Trash Future

Haley Joel Osment might be going to jail. Little man is being charged with drunk driving and posession of marijuana. Child is only 18 years old.

He looks like he's getting fat. That's not cute.

The best part is that the car he crashed was his 1995 Saturn. What??

News Recap

I was skimming CNN's website today came across some headlines I thought were amusing:

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Lookin' for Love

I have no idea how I found this video, but I thought it was pretty entertaining. Check it out:

Can I PLEASE meet as many guys to fall in love and have copious amounts of safe sex with?? Do I have to be an animated chick in order for that to happen? Cuz I'll do it. I'll fuckin' do it!!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Some Black Chick's Tongue

If you haven't seen Drawn Together before, then shame on you. The show's fucking hilarious! Plus, you also must think I'm insane because you don't get the picture in my profile. Regardless, check out this clip from the show:

Now watch these crazy-ass kids singing along to the same song. Are these people for real-real???

Three Fat Girls Walk Into a Bar...

No it's not the start of a joke (well, that's subjective, I suppose); it was last night at Therapy!

Yesterday evening, Next Magazine threw a party for Barrett Foa -- understudy and then 'star' of Avenue Q and currently in Spelling Bee on Broadway. Well, I got there about an hour and a half late, but apparently the party had prematurely ended an hour ahead of schedule due to the fact that Miss Boa had to see Kiki and Herb at 8pm. Now I'm not one to judge (ha!), but if your 'star' is on the rise (primarily because another star, John Tartaglia, left and gave you the opportunity to shine) then you should make the most of the moment and welcome any press that comes your way. Instead, he went to see Kiki and Herb.

So that party was something of a bust. But I got there just in time to enjoy the bitchfest and prepare myself for the 800 pound gorilla(s), ie, The Glamazons. Now, initially I was scared as they were walking by getting ready for the show. It's the kinda fear you have when a two ton rhino charges toward you on the Serengeti. It's not cute. But, once they got on stage, they were pretty entertaining. Well, we all know big women can sing, so sistas were workin' it out.

It was some type of "Next Top Glamazon" contest last night, which meant that there were at least two contestants (there could hvae been more, but I wasn't trying to stick around and find out) competing to be a Glamazon. This one girl, Belinda, had herself a HUGE ASS (end of sentence. No pun intended) following. They were shouting so loud it hurt my ears. Could I PLEASE have a fan base that... err... large?

As I watched her sing, became paralyzed by the shriek of her fans, and promptly proceeded to get the fuck outta there, I couldn't help but wonder what provokes a big girl to go up on stage in a MINI miniskirt and own her wideness? My friend's answer was "you hit rock bottom", which I can see as a possible scenario. But I guess, if a girl's gotta feel pretty, then who am I to stop her?

Monday, August 14, 2006

No More Drama, Mama!

Yet another Mommy Dearest video!

Neighborhood Signs

In my new quest throughout the city, I'll try to take more pictures of life little head scratches. As I was trying to buy a drink in Harlem at about 110St and Malcolm X Boulevard, this is the sign I encountered when trying to get a simple Arizona Iced Tea:

I would need my Ebonics decoder ring just to figure out what that's supposed to mean and what I'd need to do with it. Someone writing at a second grade level!!!!

Tasti-D = Nasty-See

The other day I was feeling sad and needed a fix, in the form of a low-fat milkshake. I shuffled on over to the Tasti D-Lite counter an ordered up a double dutch chocolate milkshake. Yumm! And just as I was starting to feel fat about myself, I turned around and saw this:

Yeah, that's quite a mess. It's just shocking. Nothing more can be said about it.

I start my diet tomorrow.

Thursday, August 10, 2006


I fucking love Clue! Madeline Kahn is a riot.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Slow News Day?

An article at the top of CNN.com was titled Penguins die in crash, octopus uninjured.

Ok, seriously, is there nothing else going on in the world that this was worth even writing about?? I mean, penguins are cute and all, but seriously!! That's lame. What's equally as lame is the fact that I took the time to read the article. I'm lame-squared.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

I Am Woman, Help Me Roar

Another wonderful posting from my old blog. Sadly, it's still applicable a year later.

After numerous annoying observations, I've come to a (not so shocking)hypothesis on social behavior: "Women like to be victims"

Now, before you start burning your bra and throwing away your Lady Bics and Nair, be a good girl and sit down and shut up -- just listen.

Women constantly exhibit behavior that leads them to be victimized. They either dress and act like sluts -- thus increasing their odds of being sexually molested and groped. They take on endeavors they know they can't execute -- changed a tire lately? -- therefore requiring them to whine for help. They feign phobic-related paralysis so others will come to their rescue -- kill the bug yourself!

Now, I realize that not all women are like this. But the ones who aren't are usually called Lesbians. Ok, there are "tom boys" too. But most enjoy being the victim, or at least being perceived that way.

However, the key insight is that they only do these stupid things when there is someone around or if they are in close proximity -- either physically or in time -- to someone to witness them being a victim. So if there's nobody to actually give them attention for the event, then they typically won't act like a victim -- they'll just suck it up and deal.

Ultimately, it's another means of getting attention. However, it's a self-depricating way of achieving such an immature end in the first place.

So what does all this mean? Why does it matter? Well, it matters when, as a group, you're striving to be independent and viewed as such. Sending conflicting messages to audiences never worked for anyone. It matters on an individual level as a means of personal development. The need for attention and certain tools used to fulfill that need are infantile. Growing beyond this mindset takes you one level further up Maslow's hierarchy.

Oh, and at the end of the day, I'm also just sick of it. I'm gay, bitch, I don't have any inclination to pay attention to you, so stop asking for it and move on to the next person with a penis. Thank you... :)

Monday, August 07, 2006

Is That Bullshit I Smell or Just the Story You're Telling Me?

I am fucking HILARIOUS!! This is a posting from my old blog that I wrote almost exactly last year. God damn. This shit is priceless.

Why do people tell me the stupidest stories that seem almost completely fabricated?

Why are the frumpiest girls telling me stories about how they met the "HOTTEST" guy this weekend and left his apt the next morning? Lies.

Why are these same girls trying to convince me, by inference, that they themselves are the "hottest" things on Satan's green earth? Don't mistake this pimp cane for a walkin' stick. I have eyes of my own, Honey! I may be gay, but I can still tell when a Bitch is toe up Fugly.

Why are boys telling me that they've hooked up with the "hottest" guy last night when I was WITH them last night and already saw who they were hooking up with? Bitch, he wasn't that hot. He wasn't even 98 Degrees hot! Rather, he was 98 Degrees hot, but looked like that ugly blond guy in the group whose name nobody knows. Not Nick, not Drew... the "other" one. Please, Bitch. Waste your breath on someone else. Don't try to convice me of your alternate reality -- I was THERE.

Ultimately, I'm just jealous that I don't live in the world of Make-Believe and can't delude myself into thinking I'm something that I'm not. It must be nice to be able to inject oneself with false bursts of self-esteem boosters. Someone write me a Rx for those pills! Then I, too, will have hooked up with the "hottest" boy and received a fake box of chocolates and two dozen roses from him the following morning. Lies.

Ugh, Paris Hilton is...

... a dumb bitch for saying she's going celibate and thinking people will believe her.

... a dumb bitch who barely knows who Tony Blair is.

... a dumb bitch, however, who's making BANK just for showing up at a party -- like $500,000 a party!

Wait... maybe she's not so dumb a bitch afterall. Wait... yes she is, but at $500k a pop, she can afford to be a dumb bitch, at least until she dies at a tragically young age.

Is Hell Exothermic?

People forward the funniest emails to me...

The following is supposedly an actual question given on a University of Washington Chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.

Bonus Question : Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you", and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over

The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."


Friday, August 04, 2006

p.i.n.k. is Google-icious

Work it out, p.i.n.k vodka! It was the #1 search on Google today, according to ABC World News Tonight, thanks to Howard Stern. That's hardcore. I'll genuflect to the "King of All Media" for that one.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Oh, Bush...

God, save us from your followers!

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I say...

... God Damn!! If I were into ass, I'd be all about this. But i'm mostly in shock and awe.

One D at a Time

This bitch is crazy and I love her for it. When I first read the blog, I thought it was written by yet another gay man, but eventually I realized it was written by a girl! She's like an insane gay man in a woman's body, set free on the streets. Check out her blog: One D at a Time.

I especially enjoyed this Probing Question #4

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Race Invaders

This picture is too much:

Each of this woman's breastesses are the size of a child's head!

The picture is from an article in the Times about the portrayal of big black women in advertising. I read it, but found it utterly annoying and somewhat pointless -- like a debate that has no conclusion; or a Springer episode without a 'Final Thought'.

There's some references to Durry Queen as a company that uses African-American stereotypes in its advertising. I'm sorry, but they're just catering to their clientele. And it seems to work -- at least, that was my impression the last time I was in a Dairy Queen :) Well, with sprinkles (no pun intended) of white trash.

So you know what -- don't bitch about potentially negative portrayals of African-Americans in the media, because at least you get portrayed! And if you don't like it, then stop suckling up to the DQ softie machine!

Out of the Loop

So apparently I'm completely out of it lately when it comes to current events. I'm so out of it that I'm not even going to bother linking to anything that I talk about because that would 1) require work and 2) require me to be back in the loop. I'm happy to not be in the loop right now.A very dear friend of mine has been in the hospital, so I've been visiting him almost daily. Hence, I have no fucking clue what's going on in the world. But from what I hear, I don't really want to know what's going on!

This is what I think is currently going on:
  • Castro is like dying or something. Some people think he's already dead. The rumor mill is running. Sounds like the same drama happening with my friend in the hospital.
  • There's some bullshit drama going on in the Middle East again. It's not meant to sound flippant, but seriously... there's ALWAYS bullshit drama going on over there. People are dying ALL the fucking time! Get over it. Let's just A-Bomb the whole area and then see who wants to fight over radioactive land. Yeah, not so Holy anymore, huh??
  • Mel Gibson was drunk driving and started blaming jews for random shit. Well... I danced around the minefield with my "let's A-Bomb the Middle East" comment, so I'm not going anywhere near this 'blaming the jews' topic for fear that I'll either have a plane crash into my face or a hot Israeli fuck me until I die. Mmm.... death by hot Israeli rape. Delicious.
  • On a related point, since when did it become insanely offensive to talk about jews, just as it would be to say something negative about blacks? I guess after the Holocaust. Not that I'm wishing the same fate on any other group of people, but can the gays get a similar 'Get out of Hate' free card?? Help a nigga out. Whoops! :)
  • Bush is a fucking jackass. Oh wait, that's not new news... that's just fact. My bad.