Thursday, July 26, 2007

LOL ++


Um, first let me join you in your confusion.

The magic of the websites "icanhascheezburger" and "CoLOLnials" is not obvious to those unfamiliar with the language of Instant Messaging. Since I gave it up a couple of years ago (my manager status--yes, you may curtsy--guilted me out of it) I am less familiar than I was...and even then I only knew the basics (LOL, LMAO, BRB, etc.). So, when Adairdevil introduced me to icanhascheezburger (and, later, CoLOLnials) some instruction was required.

I've finally put in the quick links, so I strongly recommend you check them out. Even if you don't get most of it, there are some gems that do not require an intimate knowledge of IM speak. In general, the misspellings are a play on the untidiness (and, let's face it, dumbassery) of the fast-paced IM conversation. Words like "the" become "teh" and so on...

I know my tech savvy friends are wondering why the hell I am explaining this...some of my readers are not in the know, kitties. If you have any insights to add, please do!

As a side note, snarkygirl informs me that some smartymarty paper (NY Times?) took a shot at icanhascheezburger as "low brow" humor. I have to disagree, but to each his own, right? I love it and that, as we all know, is all that matters on this good, green earth. Word.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Kathy Griffin is Awesome

I've recently been enjoying season 1 of "My Life on the D List" on DVD. It isn't quite as funny and quippy as season 3 (which just concluded on Bravo last night), but it is getting better as the episodes progress. I think they worried too much about getting other famous faces on screen when they should have just let her sit and talk about whatever she wanted for an hour. The woman is hilarious 24/7. My favorite quote from season 1 so far basically sounds like the yammering tree monkey in my head:

"I like doughy things, fried things, and sugar things. That's what I like. And dips. I like things with dipping sauces. And glazed. Things that are glazed. Or have frosting, in some way, or are some sort of a layered, something layered with other things inside that are sugary. Also, I like butter. I like things that rise. Cakey, cupcakey, doughnutty... breaded stuff is good. I like breaded bread."

I love her. She's like my new BFF except I am alone, in my head, with the screaming monkey. But laughing!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Why I am Here Instead of There


Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Give It to Me, Baby

cov·et

VERB: cov·et·ed , cov·et·ing , cov·ets

VERB: tr.
1. To feel blameworthy desire for (that which is another's).
2. To wish for longingly.

VERB: intr.
3. To feel immoderate desire for that which is another's.

What does the heart of darkness want? It wants world domination, tickets to Motley Crue in '85, leather chaps, a washer/dryer set, a balcony, and a mock-Tudor home. What?

The windows on this lovely are deee-licious.

This one is twee and precious. Look at the triple stack.

There is a lot going on here--check out that mighty smokestack--and the total package is scrumptious.

Look at the Tudor detailing on the turret for God's sake. It is all too rustic and yummy.

A New Orleans balcony in the infamous French Quarter. You haven't lived until you've coveted them with your own eyes over beignets and cafe au lait at the Cafe du Monde.


What can I say? The heart of darkness wants what it wants.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Yesssssssss

It was wondrous, amazing, fantasmico and I loved it intensely. Worth the wait. Deep, abiding love 4-evah! TRANSFORMERS!!!

There were some extremely goofy parts, sure, but the CGI obliterates any judgemental tendencies I might have had. When they are transforming it is too entirely cool to care about little annoying things.

I was trying to explain my true feelings about the movie to someone this weekend. Remember Finding Nemo? The part where they are riding the Trans Australian Current or Whatever it is called? With the sea turtles? And they hit that downward spiral and the sea turtle yells "AWESOME! AWESOME!" -- that is what was yammering in my head every time they transformed and battled.

AWESOME! AWESOME!

Friday, July 06, 2007

Why, God? Why?

Have you ever taken the R train to work one Friday morning, all sleepy and dreamy because, hey, it is Friday and only a half day at that? You're sitting in the corner (the designated "safe" space where it is least likely to have someone towering over you, hitting you in the head with their damn bag) and listening to your MP3 player, wafting in and out of consciousness because you seem to never get enough sleep and apparently you are transforming into either a senior citizen or a bear. You hear snippets of songs from Scissor Sisters, Jellyfish, Billy Idol (wait, maybe you are a senior citizen? You wonder if you remembered to take you Centrum Silver then slip back under the cozy blankets of doze). Once in awhile you awaken to check out the passengers, check for killers, muggers, pinchers, and wonder why people wear the things that they do. Like the girl with the fabulous pony tail and sailing outfit (all whites and even a sweater over the shoulders) who is grasping onto what looks like a souvenir rosary, rubbing the beads and what...? Which makes you wonder why you keep ending up with Catholics and further makes you wonder why, why, why, do they keep trying to convert you, sweet Jesus? And why is she rubbing a red, plastic rosary that looks like it came out of a Descending Claw machine at the arcade? If she's working on her sins, is that going to do the job? She got that thing at Coney Island, you are sure of it. Then, of course, you realize you are probably going to hell. Sigh. Time for more sleeping. You wake up when Mr. GymBag TooMuchHairGel dislocates your knee cap with his Rock Hard buttock. It takes only a few seconds to realize that he is also the Guy Who Likes to Stare at Ta Ta's because he's staring at every woman that walks onto the train. He's not glancing, he's giving a full scan, from top to bottom, with dramatic pauses at all the naughty bits. You wonder if he's got some poor, poor girl fooled into dating him or if she's maybe chained to the radiator at that moment. Then you notice that he's more than staring at some new victim; he's transfixed, he's frozen, he may drool at any moment. So you look, too.

Have you ever taken the R train to work one Friday morning, all sleepy and dreamy because, hey, it is Friday and only a half day at that, and right before your stop you see one of those women, those heart-stopping, catch your breath, unbelievably beautiful creatures that knocks the shit out of any notion you had of your own beauty or lack thereof? This the is the girl that makes the prettiest people you know deeply, darkly jealous. Her blond hair is perfect and carelessly pinned up; her tummy's exposed, flat, and tan (but not too tan); her face cannot be explained (it's too much, with the blue eyes and high cheekbones and perfect at every angle); and you can tell she'd probably be the second nicest person you've ever met and she probably volunteers all of her spare time, too. She is otherworldly and you are pond scum. And so is Staring Harry, sitting there with his jaw agape and clutching his New York Times like his mommy's Sunday dress. It is only the sweet release of finally arriving at your stop that shakes him from his daze because you have to excuse yourself, nudge him out of the way, and get the hell off of this train.

And you ask yourself, Why, God? Why? You just wanted to get through this half day. You could have slept in, taken the next train, or even fallen back to sleep after Mr. Hard Buttock sat on you, but you didn't. Instead, you've managed to witness some mythological, Unicorn Woman and now you are left struggling to think of reasons to live.

Then you remember.

Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!Transformers!

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Scooter, You Should Go to Jail

And so should everyone you lied for. Just being called "Scooter" should land your ass in jail.

It's nice to see our leader finally, brazenly, without shame, and balls hanging loose and low to the ground showing those true blue colors. Now even the most dimwitted, see no evil-hear no evil-speak no evil, keepers of the faith will have to see him for what he really is. Right?

Right?