Friday, October 30, 2009


Well butter my muffins, I didn't see that last little racist water balloon comin' my way from Shanon at all! As payback, I invite you all to have a looksee at the ghosts of Jenny & Shanon's Halloweeners past.

Uh oh, someone's grumpy clamwich of a Mom came to pick them up early and pooed all over the party. Oh wait, that's just Shannie.

Not that my costume was much better. (I was Natalie Portman in "The Professional" obviously) And Andrew was The Professional. Professional sweater puppy handler, hai-o.

Meet Amadeus Mozart and Professor Plum.

This wasn't Halloween. Tricked you, jerks*

*Shanon does not have the herps, those scabs are from the same tooth-knocking out incident mentioned in previous blog.

Which brings us to last year. What have we learned today? That Shanon and I are lazy fucking turds whose costumes usually suck a fat Snickers bar because we wait unti lthe day before Halloween to get it together. I have some shopping to do.*

*Shanon's note: I am clearly Matt from Matt and Kim. Clearly. I put effort into that shit.

Bodily Injuries

Last night I smashed my thumb in a car door. It's all bruised up and hurts like a little bitch. I'm all, "Oooh fuck, it hurts to light my cigarette, waaaaaaa." Yes, I am a giant pussy. I've never actually broken any significant bones or had serious surgery but here are some things that HAVE happened to me.

- Broke a pinky toe. What a fucking bummer. I was maybe 9 and I was running around a corner when I smashed my toe into the corner of a table. Man did it suck to put socks on after that. I'm still scarred.

- Got my tonsils taken out. Before this happened I was actually in the hospital for 4 days with the worst case of tonsilitis they'd ever seen. When I finally got them taken out, Nicky came to pick me up and I was all drugged up and fell into the wall when we were waiting for the elevator. Then I lost 10 pounds from only being able to eat liquids for 2 weeks. Sweet!

- Burned my corneas. I was the retard that didn't wear sunglasses while snowboarding. I burned my eyeballs and couldn't see for 3 days. It was during my 7th grade ski trip, the first time I had ever been on a trip with boys and thus a defining moment for a young and horny Shanon. I learned the hard way that no one wants to play 7 minutes in heaven with the blind girl.

- Smashed my face and broke a tooth. Everyone knows the story for this one all too well, I'm afraid. Learn my lesson, don't ever agree to watch Lost and take shots of vodka everytime someone says "Jack." I told my grandma that I tripped when coming out of a cab and her immediate reaction was "Did the cab driver help you get up at least?" Ohhhh grandma, you are so naive.

- Burned the bottoms of my feet. Another lesson learned the hard way - walking around with a cane does not help you get laid.

- Bruised my entire ass. You remember that scene in "A League of Their Own" when that chick slides into home and she has that giant fucking bruise? That was my first introduction to tequila.

Racist Jenny

Now that I know what a big ol' pile of beer shits Jenny is going to be tomorrow, I have absolutely no qualms in alerting everyone to the fact that my lady is a total racist.

Here's the proof:

- One time our friend Cara got into a fight with an Indian gentleman friend of hers (who shall remain nameless) and of course Jenny wanted to stick up for Cara because she's good like that. Jenny's retaliation took a disastrous turn, though, when she tried to trash-talk said gentleman and called him "Sanjaya." Classy.

- Another time a friend of mine was in town and Jenny was planning to make us dinner, aka bloody marys. My buddy asked if he could bring a friend and when, in turn, I asked Jenny she said "Sure long as it's not an Asian or a lesbian."

Here's a music video from my favorite band of pork chops (that's racist for Puerto Rican), Davila 666.

Mischief Night

What is the deal with Halloween, why does it just make me want to go out and get fucked up? Shanon put me on house arrest tonight, because she is aware that I have no self control most of the time and she doesn't want me to be too hungover to attend her Halloween jammer tomorrow, especially since I am one half of her costume. Sometimes that burning bush knows me better than I know myself, methinks.

But it's mischief night! Does she seriously expect me to stay home and watch TGIF when I could be out setting bags of poo on fire and egging cripples and puppies and she knows I recently purchased a box of stinkbombs that have been burning a hole in my pocket, a HOLE goddammit. This is the one night of the year that my hobbies are celebrated instead of frowned upon, it might take a tranquilizer dart to take me down. So I will give her a solid meh beh about the whole "taking it easy" dealy and I will "do my best."

Or maybe I will just TP her house, I am an enigma, you see.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

I Want To Go To There

Andrew just sent this to me and I immediately wanted to buy them (I'm so bad with money!). Seriously, Robert Pattison panties. HIS FACE IS INSIDE THE CROTCH. I think I might die. Now I don't particularly find him that attractive, but I'm not gonna lie that I'm a nerd for Twilight. And are you really that shocked? No, of course you're not.

Anyhoot, these are actually not for sale, a fact which my bank account is thankful for, but the most amusing thing about them is that they were posted on a Robert Pattison blog. The comments are glorious. Let me share some with you. Enjoy!

"Nothing will make your boyfriend lose wood faster than this." Truth bombs.

"They don't have Rob Pattinson condoms yet?" What a good question.

"Awful, lack of respect for Robert!" Who lit her tampon?

"This is horrible! What sick person would create this and wear this? :-((( People is always more wacko-crazy!!!" There are no words to describe how more wacko-crazy I am.

Boner of the Day

The bangin' cupcake I just ate for breakfast! It was from Sugar Sweet Sunshine, which my coworker just explained is like "the equivalent of the Sex and the City place, but for cool dudes." It was like sugary sweet crack all up in my mouth. Bueno to you, cupcake. I love you so much, I want to take you behind the middle school and get you pregnant.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009


So I came back from lunch to find that the Candy Corn fairy paid a visit to my office! Man do I love me some Hallowang. I rarely eat candy, due to my serious dislike of brushing my teeth and dentists. Last time I went (two years ago) the dentist told me I had eight cavities, but I heard that the little ones fill themselves in. What a quack.

Unfortunately, not all candy is created equal. These are some of my most be-loved candy varieties and some ones that you couldn't pay me to eat, even if they were being fed to me by hot ghost celebrities like Patrick Swayze or Corey Feldman's career.

Reeses Pieces. These are my favorite, they beat the balls offa M&M's which is just chocolate dipped in yay, more chocolate. Snoozeville. Peanut butter, on the other hand, gives that chocolate shell a much needed tasty kick to the sack.

Snickers/Baby Ruth/Peanut Chews. These can all be lumped together cuz they are all equally delightful. Chocolate and peanuts go together like me & sandwiches, or necrophilia & an undertaker.

Starburst. So good, although I sometimes lean towards Mambos, when I am feeling aristocratty.

Candy Corn.
Will eat these until I barf. I may or may not have done this before. The classic shape is best though, no pumpkins or weird colors for me, thanks.

Good & Plenty. Boy, I love it when my candy tastes like...licorice. This candy tastes like things I have failed at in life.

Three Musketeers.
You know how everyone has that annoying friend that always manages to show up to the party who no one is really crazy about, but you'll talk to if you get stuck alone in the kitchen with them while freshening your drink? Meet Nougat.

Necco Wafers.
Mmmmmm, chalk.

Mary Janes. This little bitch ripped one of my braces off in the seventh grade and I am still not over it.

Easy Solutions

Jenny and I were just pondering how we're going to get bro tats with no money to our names, when simultaneously we both responded with the question, "How have neither of us slept with a tattoo artist?"

I don't think this question makes us look like hussies, per se, but merely smart people who sleep with dudes for all the right reasons including getting free shit. Here's my list of people I would like to get the ins with and am willing to sleep with to do so (no hooker).

Tattoo artist. As stated above, this is obviously a key person to get jiggy with. I very rarely have the scrilla to afford tats so end up waiting until Friday the 13th (when they are $13) and getting one while wasted and then I'm like "Oh yes, all my life I've wanted a tattoo on my wrist of a skeleton wearing a fedora." In general I have many lofty tattoo ideas that are all just waiting for the extra money to make them a reality. One even came to me in a dream. Wait for it... a monkey riding a horse bareback! Pure gold.

Chef. Yes please. My ex just recently described me as an official "foodie" which I actually just think is his way of saying that I eat too much pork belly. Imagine if I dated a chef! I would definitely aim high and get with someone who works at an oyster bar. No lowly sandwich shop employees for this gal. Oh wait...

Dude with a car. You know what, it's ridiculous I don't have a boif with at least a car. Sometimes this little lady wants to go to the Renaissance Faire for pirate weekend, mmmkay? Or just this morning Jenny asked me if I wanted to go skeet shooting in a couple of weeks. Where are the hot boys with vehicles?!

Bike shop employee. I actually have this one squared away without ever having had to knock boots with the dude. My room mate works at a bike shop and he is always down to fix whatever tiny problem I have. He's the tits!

Male stewardess. Free flights! I could go to Iceland just for the hell of it.

Doctor. This one is fairly obvious, I suppose, so leave it to me to think of it last. My little bee sting fiasco would've been so easily resolved if I was datin' a doc. Also neither Jenny nor myself have health insurance so our lives would be much easier if we had a dude (that only one of us bones, obvi) that could tell us what over-the-counter medicines cure swine flu or hangovers.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Impulsive Purchases

Speaking of my problems with monies, Jenny's previous post made me realize just how truly terrible I am with my limited funds. For example, take my most recent eBay purchases. In my defense, the total of these two wise decisions was $20 including shipping.

A set of McDonald's collectible Garfield mugs. This is pure nostalgia for me, and I thought to myself a few weeks ago, "Wouldn't it be cool to have these for my very own?" Yes, yes it would be.

A fancy horse plate to mount on my wall. I went to this crazy 110 year-old oyster bar in Portland and its walls were covered in these sweet nautical plates. I thought to myself, "Shanon, you need to start collecting crazy plates." And then I found this gem. It's like a Native American horse and a white man horse are meeting for the first time and falling in love. Like Dances With Wolves, you see, only horses instead of people. Let my collection begin!


It is no secret that money-wise, me and Shanon are useless as a fart in a hurricane. Since we are planning an epic road trip from Florida to New Orleans for New Years, we came to the conclusion today that it is high time we started savin' up our skribble because those Super 8 Motels and classy T-Bell dinners are not gonna pay for themselves.

Solution? Be each others' accountants! I like to think that I am the better one with money in our duo, because of one particular incident about eight years ago. Shanon and I were in school and broke. Shanon literally had twenty bones to her name and we were walking down Broadway, past a skate shop. I went next door to buy a coffee and came back to find Shanon had spent ten of her only twenty dollars on a skate VHS tape. Not sure what she survived on for the next week or so, but if there's one straight thing Shannie's got going for her, it's priorities.

Now, by no means am I a financial wizard, I once drank an entire bottle of Ouzo because I had no monies for "real" booze or even some Colt 45, but I eat Hot Pockets & Mama Celeste Pizzas for their flavor and microwaveability and this whole "recession" is a great excuse for me to get down with my favorite foods without fear of judgment.

In conclusion, flasks are our new best friend, we will be mooching our drugs instead of supplying them, and if you'll excuse me, I have a sock full of change to cash in and purchase scratch-off tickets with.

Boner of the Day

Today has been a whirlwind of emotions at the Jenny and Shanon ranch, but last night something interesting happened to me. I had a sexy dream about Rufio!

You know, Hook is one of my favorite movies but it's also muy confoosing. How in the hell did Captain Hook "disappear" by being eaten by a dead crocodile? And does Robin Williams really expect that tubby to take over his Peter Pan duties? I don't get it.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Alpaca Magazine

Everyone knows the magazine industry has been blowing it lately, due to this new thing called the "interwebs" that is all the rage. They're all, "Oh no, Gourmet magazine folded, how am I gonna cook swanky recipes for dinner parties with my rich friends" and I'm all "I woke up Sunday morning with a new iPhone app that I don't remember purchasing last night, it finds the nearest fast food chain using GPS."

But that is neither here nor there, the point of this blog is alpacas, specifically Alpaca Magazine, which I recently discovered existed Saturday night. This 'zine is all kinds of confusing; is it for alpacas, or for people who love alpacas, or by alpacas for the people who love them, who knows since we didn't actually read it because around five am we discovered doing this is why Alpaca Magazine is killing it and Gourmet is not.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Photo of the Day

Looks like Jenny's not the only one that Andrew sends presents to. He just sent me this glorious photo with the tag line: "I need this shirt." But wait, why does Jenny get sent the photos of hot boys and me only things related to midgets? Oh right, it's cause I likes the little guys. Great.

My Restaurant Idea

Man alive, I am campaigning for Mayor of Hangovertown today, with Shanon as my running mate. Tried to do some work but had more pressing issues at hand, such as what I wanted to eat for lunch. This got me thinking about hangover food and restaurants in general and I can't believe a restaurant specifically for hungover people doesn't exist in this town, seeing as most New Yorkers are hungover most of the time. If I had a bajillion dollars, I would open one up in a second, here's how it would go down:

Every table would be really comfortable booths because who wants to deal with chairs? Not me. Wait, maybe some chairs since you don't want to be sitting and standing to let people out to go to the bathroom... And the bathrooms would be large and plentiful, not stalls, everyone gets their own and they would be fully stocked with matches to combat beer shits. There would be flattering lighting to help you forget the fact that you have not showered and your eyes are crazy bloodshot and that someone drew dicks all over your face because you were the first to pass out.

The lighting in the restaurant would be dim, no loud music. Every table would have its own water cooler so you can chug that shit and not have to keep asking the waitress for more. If you forgot sunglasses, there would be some available for purchase. When you are seated by the host, you get handed a multivitamin. The staff should probably be moderately good looking because who wants to be waited on by a bunch of uggos when they're borderline barfola.

This is how the menu would shape up:

- Fried food.

- Burgers and fries.

- Lots of eggs. Actually, an entire egg and cheese sandwich, fried.

- Fountain soda, drinks with electrolytes in them, coffee. I was mulling over the idea of a Mexican walking around with a sack of coconuts and a machete to chop open the coconuts and stick a straw in since coconut juice is really good for hangovers, but if I saw a machete weilding dude in the midst of my hangover, it would scare the pants offa me. Same goes for Mexicans.

- Aleve or another headache medicine that does not contain acetaminophen. We care about our patron's livers.

- Banana bread, because bananas are good for hangovers but too bad they're fucking gross and bread is the only acceptable form for them to be consumed.

- Really good bloody marys. There's a bar in Greenpoint where they give you a glass with vodka and you go to the bloody mary bar and fix your own and at first I was into that idea but then I walked up to the bar and realized I don't know how to make a fucking bloody mary, only how to drink them, so mine tasted like a nutsack.

- Trifectas. A must.

Obligatory CMJ Post

Jenny and I hadn't seen each other in almost 3 weeks so in typical us fashion we got retardedly drunk last night. I honestly think I downed 10 vodka sodas in half an hour. Open bar, bitches! Now I'm sitting at work trying to struggle through what is already an interminable day. I started listening to shitty emo music only after I realized I had been sitting for at least half an hour with my headphones on but no music playing. What is wrong with me.

But so! Here's a list of things I am looking forward to this week. It's CMJ, my favorite holiday after SxSW.

Day Drinking - Not that I need an excuse to do this, really. I mean I could do it if I wanted to, ok? It's just more acceptable to do this during CMJ, nah mean?

Free booze - Bless the man and/or chick that invented open bars. Although... he and/or she is directly responsible for how I'm feeling right now so fuck you. See you tonight!

Hot boys - Doy squared. Jenny gets all the tall, red-headed wiggers her little heart can handle, while my own desire for beer-gutted beardos is completely satiated.

Cold Cave - This band is muy bueno and I'll get to see them a bunch this week ...but that's not the reason I look forward to them. I bet you didn't know that the lead singer only has one hand! Tis true, he is a gimp. Next time you see them you will notice how he always keeps one hand hidden. Stumpsville. I love peeping that shit.

Buddies - Ok it's true that some of the people I'm "friends" with I never actually see except during CMJ or SxSW. Bringing people together, that's what it's all about.

Was this post retarded? Screw you, I'm hungover.

Boner of the Day Part Deux

Jonathan Ive, Sr. VP of Design for Apple. He is seriously bangin and designs my most favorite products to lose and or break. Right now, I can count six Apple computers, two iPhones, and three iPods just in my office. That adds up to way more than I would normally pay for sex, so as I see it, dude owes me.

I think Andrew said it best: "So fucking hot. 'Because he is one of the greatest designers of this century!'Ummmm tagline should read because he is one of the most smashable pieces of ass this century. I want to jump his apples."

Now watch this video and have a change of underwear handy because dude has a British accent too. Happy Wednesday to me. Thanks Andrew.

Boner of the Day

I'm so hungover my eyeballs hurt and all I can muster the energy to do is look up New Moon clips. And fuck me Taylor Lautner makes me feel like a pedo but I'd hit that in a second and have zero regrets.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Why I Don't Watch The News

Now that I am back in business, T.V.-wise, I am remembering things I love about it: The Simpsons! And things I hate: The News. Seeing as I am a poor, I get roughly seven channels, chock full of "news" like this groundbreaking story. Taking pictures of things on Tv whilst stoned is the jam, bee tee dubs.

Monday, October 19, 2009

The Office

You know what really toasts my buns, is people who only like "The British Version" of the show The Office. Yes, it was cool to go rent The Office on dvd when the American one didn't exist, but that shit was like ten years ago and Steve Carell is funny as balls. So people who claim to only watch the U.K. edition, get over yourselves and make a goddamn That's What She Said joke. I keep waiting for these to get un-funny and they never, ever do.

The best one I ever pulled off was during a serious conversation with a dude I was dating. He was all bla bla bla, "That's a tough nut to swallow" and I go THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!! And then almost fell over from laughing. The best part is, I think our conversation was about me needing to not treat everything like a big joke, but not taking the bait on that one would have probably left me sore and uncomfortable and been way too hard (see what I did there).


Instead of eating burritos on my couch and scraping res bowls, for some reason I am grumpy and stuck at work and so have decided to clean up the old newsfeed on the Facebooks and block some "friends" whose status updates annoy me.

It would be nice if people would stop wasting my time with status updates about the following:

The weather. If it is rainy out, or cold out, or hot out and we live in the same city, I am most likely already aware of this fact. You don't have to comment about it in your status box to remind me and if you are in a different city than mine, I don't give a fuck about your weather. Unless you have a tsunami on your hands, in which case you should be typing from a submarine, seriously. I don't care.

Sports. Sports interest me not. Other people's opinions on sports interest me even less.

TV Shows. I get that you are excited for American Idol, but I don't need to know what you're watching every goddam day of the week. It would be nice if you just made your status say "I Can't Wait For Middle Age When The Kids Are Grown And Moved Out And I Have Nothing Left To Talk About With My Husband" so I don't have to read between the lines.

Celebrity deaths. Exceptions will be made for inappropriate, too-soon jokes.

How To Impress Your Boss

Another amoosing story from my Portland experience involves a detective tail and an inappropriate text to my boss.

Friday was definitely a wash for me, work-wise. I didn't finish up for the day until about 10pm, following a meeting in my hotel room at 9pm. And we're not talking sexy meeting here, this was serious and very important. In other words I am serious and very important.

Following the meeting I went with my coworker to Pok Pok, the best thai restaurant in North America, and begged them to let us eat there even though it was closed. (On a side note, one lame thing about Portland is that all of their restaurants close at 10pm. So. Whack.) My boss was there finishing up dinner as well and then he joined us as the bar for a bit.

Suddenly he got up to leave, saying "his ride was here" and that he was going out. When we pressed him for more details he wouldn't indulge us. Tres shady. Finally about an hour or so later he texted me what bar he was at, thinking we wouldn't know where or how to get there. At the time we were with a Portland native who told us we were a block or two from the bar.

We showed up and totally sneak attacked him. And guess what? He was hanging out with an old intern! A foxy babe who looked to be about 22. Caught red handed.

So anyway, debauchary ensued for the rest of the night and I woke up to a pounding on my door at 9:30am by said boss demanding that I go swimming with him right then and there. A few minutes later, after I had rolled myself out of bed and into the pool, he asked me if I remembered the text I sent to him last night.

After claiming ignorance he informed me that I sent to him (in all caps) "I FORBID YOU TO FUCK THAT INTERN." Classy, appropriate Shannie strikes again.

Speaking of Strip Clubs

As I mentioned in my previous post, I was in Portland this past weekend and have quite a few things to blog about. I've decided to follow up my bee-sting incident with quite an amusing strip club / blackberry dropped in toilet story.

And by amusing I mean gross.

Strip clubs in Portland are very strange because they're not depressing. It's like hanging out in a normal bar with your buddies but then HEY! there's a naked tattooed chick over there dancing on a stage. The one I went to with about 20 of my coworkers was called Magic Garden, or as my coworker called it, "Heaven." I was in one of those drunk states when I decided to put everything in my bra, you know, for safe keeping. I had my blackberry, money and talking powder in there by the end of the night.

So anyway I went to the bathroom to whiz and no sooner did I stand up then my blackberry fell out of the bra, down my dress, and right into the toilet. I didn't even think twice before I dove in after it and scooped it out. Then I took it apart to dry all the parts off and promptly told everyone what had happened.

This is actually an incredibly disgusting story but the amazing thing about all of this is that the phone is still working! I am now the proud owner of a peeberry. Don't ever ask to borrow my phone.

Fuck You, Bees

I just got back from a very exhausting work trip to Portland. Yesterday I technically had off (I say "off" because I still had to drive my bosses to the airport and deal with their endless jokes about drunk yours truly, not to mention the ceaseless back seat commentary on my driving skills), so I met up with some local homies to pick some pumpkins before my red eye back to Brooklyn.

I was super stoked to do something "normal" that doesn't include hanging out with coworkers at strip clubs, and then wouldn't you know it I got stung by a fucking bee. I picked out this adorable abnormally shaped pumpkin by the stem and suddenly I screamed out and threw it down. There was a stupid bee sitting on the top that I failed to notice. I haven't been stung since I was a kid when a bee flew into my eye (it was swollen shut for 3 days). I couldn't remember if I was deathly allergic or not so started flipping out, thinking I was going to die in 3 minutes from asphyxiation.

Luckily I have many friends who are smarter than me and tried calling a bunch of them. I finally got through to my boy Krishna who promptly told me an answer that sounded smart enough to believe and I calmed down about my impending death. He was even kind enough to call a 3rd-year med student to confirm his theories and called me back again to say I was in the clear.

Hot damn though if my finger didn't hurt like a bitch for 10 hours. Fuck you, bees. It's a small consolation that my pain results in your death, but I'd like to kill the lot of you.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Boner of the Day

Joel McHale! Filling in for Shannie on this one, but I'm watching his new show "Community" and color me scha-wing. Didn't think he could get any more thrashtastic until I caught him on this and hopped the next bus to Hornytown. If I wasn't so lazy, I would photoshop that wedding ring straight out of picture numbah two. Nonetheless, enjoy.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Poor Decisions of the Nineties

So we have been slacking bit on the blog front as of late, due to Shanon's jet-setting lifestyle and my decision to celebrate Columbus Day by getting weird until about 6:30am and generally making a mess of bad choices.

Bad decisions of course, made me nostalgic for the nineties in all their grunge-loving glory. Here's some things I was into and should probably regret.

Chinese character tattoos. Guilty! In my defense, I was 18 and they were purchased for me by a dude and were a completely spontaneous decision, as all my tattoos have been thus far. The worst part is, I kind of maybe forget what they mean. They came as a pair and I'm pretty sure I know what one means but I don't know which is which. Time to get busy with an Asian dude and crack this case.

Piercings. Used to have my nose pierced but I just remembered that the same dude who bought me those tattoos also offered to pay for me to get my tongue pierced. Who was this diabolical nineties ninja??

The color combination of maroon & forest green. In the seventh grade, I owned a pair of jeans in both these shades, that I would wear with a flannel shirt of a corresponding color, with some brown oxford shoes. That shit was my favorite outfit and I would totally rock it today. Fashion, you ironical bitch.

Under-shave Haircuts. These are crazy dykey and I never had one, but I wanted one all kinds of bad. Ten bucks says Shanon did though.

Is it the ten year anniversary of this drug or something because these nutty pills are all over the place lately. A friend of mine had some and was joking about having crushed some up and put it in my drink on a recent Tuesday night. Seeing as I would not put it past him to actually do this, I said I'd be really mad if he slipped me an E-roofie to which he replied, "No, you wouldn't." Touche.

Pearl Jam. Okay, I don't find them a poor choice, I freaking love this band and will listen to them for eight hours straight. It helps that my boss got Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder mixed up and downloaded about 4 Pearl Jam albums, thinking it was Nirvana. Already listened to "Daughter" thrice today.

My Two Moms Abroad

My two moms are nutty and they sure like to travel a lot! You guys should all remember the epic Christmas card I blogged about a few months back, but here's some more treats for you. (Yes I stole these photos). Thank you Jenny for scanning these and giving them all funny titles.

"Wooaaaaa!!!" That's the title of this glorious photo and it really begs to be clicked on and enlarged. That's my mom on the back of an elephant during their most recent trip to South Africa. She's holding on for dear life because she thought she was about to fall off and thus is ultimately squishing that poor woman in front of her (who is not my grandmother). The way my mother tells it, the elephant driver told her to "grab onto the belt." He was of course referring to the belt strap below her but she naturally thought he was talking about his own belt. You know, the one that keeps his pants up. So she did the ol' reach around and grabbed his blood diamonds. Haha, me so funny.

"That's a black man!" Also Jenny's title. I like this photo because there are so many exciting things going on. For one, my granma's touching an elephant's booty. For another, does anyone else notice that she's wearing a Louis Vuitton baseball hat? I think she might've bought that on Canal street about 10 years ago. And finally, what's going on with this black man in the photo? So many questions...

Some of you might recognize this as being strikingly familiar to the Christmas card with the baby tiger ... except now there are poodles! Yes, this too is also from their trip to Russia. My mother looks like a 12 year-old.

Friday, October 9, 2009

More Mysteries

What a crappy, rainy Friday. Feast your mind grapes on these mysteries with me:

- Spanish music. I don't mean Shakira, because she is booty-tastic, but the music construction workers play all day long or the dudes on the train blast out of their iPods. Every song sounds exactly the same. No comprendo.

- How people are on time for work. Morning time is way different than regular time, that shit moves at ludicrous speed. I will be getting ready and think I'm gonna be on time for work and will stop for three seconds to look for a shoe or think about what X-Man I would be and why, and all of a sudden I'll glance at the clock and realize I should have left ten minutes ago. Every single day.

- Neck tats. Whenever I think of neck tats, I remember one time when we were standing in line for a ride at Great Adventure, this chick had the gnarliest neck tat; it was a smoking gun and the smoke spelled out the name "Raoul." I don't understand why people get neck tats, but if her goal was to scare erryone out of cutting her in line for the Batman ride, mission accomplished.

- Why my left earphone always breaks before the right one. I have no less than three pairs of headphones right now, where only the right ear bud works. Does my left ear jam out harder? Makes no sense.

- Caffeine. Sometimes coffee makes me feel like a bajillion bucks and if I could shoot it, I would. Other times it gives me a panic attack and makes me want to barf all over the place. I told this to Shanon, whose response was "Caffeine is a tricksy mofo." Preach.

- Men! Just kidding. What is this, a Cathy cartoon.

Thursday, October 8, 2009


Well hello, I'm writing to you from the future, where flip flops don't exist and computers can download and create any kind of food your heart desires. Ok, I wish! But truth is I'm actually on a plane that is up in the air flying right now. And if that's not enough, I'm sitting next to an incredibly handsome and bearded Dutch musician. I noticed him earlier whilst in the security line, standing there all cute and smart with his guitar and book with the freaky deaky language. It would appear that my luck with sitting next to rad people on planes is equal to (or perhaps greater than?) my luck with missing flights. Mile high club here I come.

I'm on a plane aaaand
It's going fast aaaand
I've got an aeronautically themed pashmina afghan.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Boner of the Day

Brett Favre boooooiiiiii!

Yeah Brett, you get back in the game and kick some Green Bay ass. Do it. Also look at how cute he was when he was young (not that I mind the silver fox look by any means).

Dykes or Best Friends?

I met a lady in SF who has a best friend (much like myself) and when they are together they are often mistaken for lessies (also much like myself and Jenny). She told me quite an amusing story of being on the street with said bestie when a man approached her trying to hawk his shit. He tried to push several things on her but the last was a sweet boogie board with dolphins on it. She thought it was rad, yes, but was sick of the harassment so told him flatly, "Lookit, I don't want any of your shit alright?" His response? "You need a dick, girl. Maybe if you weren't into beaver bumpin' bullshit, you would ease up." Amen.

So anyways this lady and I were talking non-stop about our love of our best friends when this dude approached looking for a cigarette. I gave him one expecting him to scram immediately but he wouldn't give up in trying to talk to us. My annoyance quadrupled when I looked down and saw that he was wearing flip flops. Those of you who know me well know that within my top 3 hates lies men who wear flip flops. So. Terrible.

Finally we told him to get lost, but not before my new buddy told him to take his mandles somewhere else. This then prompted him to say, "This is why I never come to the city." Right, because people in San Francisco can be so angry and cruel. Then we got into words and finally I told my buddy that we needed to abort immediately. But of course he got out a "fucking dykes" comment before we could bounce.

Seriously, wtf. Jenny and I were once asked if we were power lesbians. Can't a gal be friends with another gal anymore without the impending lesbian comment? So I give up. Dykes rule. Just gotta be the right dyke, nah mean?

Cougar Recon

Shanon's last post reminded me of a funny incident that happened a few weeks ago, at a skating event in Greenpoint, which pretty much consisted of four hours or so of free booze and a mess of sweaty shirtless fine dudes. Some crazy fights broke out and one kid started projectile vomiting before passing out on the ramp, but my favorite part of the day was when Shanon introduced me to her new friend Andrew.

Andrew was visiting from SF and ended up placing second in the contest. While watching him tear shit up, Shanon leaned over to me and goes "Dude is only twenty years old." I later found out that Andrew was in fact, barely 18.

In conclusion, if your best friend doesn't occasionally get you drunk and lie to you in hopes that you will hook up with an 18 year old because she thought it would be funny, get yourself a new one.

Here's some footage. This was like porn for us.

I Think I Might Be A Cougar

Last night I was riding home and as I got to my house I saw what I thought was a cute man, bending over his skateboard saying "Fuck fuck fuck!" like he forgot his keys. He was standing in the doorway of the apartment next door to mine which I know just got some new blood in there the other week. So of course I thought to myself, "Ooooh cute new neighbor who's locked out and in need of some neighborly hospitality!"

As I was about to go inside my house I said to him, "Are you locked out?" He finally looked up at me, and low and behold it's clearly a teenager who said he had left his wallet somewhere and that he was "cool, but thanks." Damn you young Brooklyn-born boys and your uncannily good sense of style and skateboarding obsessions. It's totally making me question my morals, as in, what if a hot young dude put the moves on me, told me he was 19 then it was revealed that he was, in fact, statutory-rape age? Answer: Meh.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Monsters - A Spookyness Breakdown

I know it's only October 6th, but it's Halloween month, which means I will think about costumes and eat candy and watch "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah" until I throw up. And yeah, maybe I'm jumping the gun on this post but I don't really feel like doing much work today and I have been thinking about martinis since 10am, so deal.

Here is a breakdown of how spooky I find some typical Halloween monsters. Expect many more posts like this, still got about 25 days to go.

Witch - Witches are generally boring and any "monster" that has two sides, like a Good & a Bad automatically loses points. People actually want to be witches and when I think of a scary witch, like the cannibalistic one from Hansel & Gretel (because fattening kids up to eat them is admittedly, no joke), it immediately gets countered by "Teen Witch" or "The Worst Witch" and kills my spooky-boner. And you can take them out of business with a super soaker. Pussies.

Werewolf -
Now we're talking. You need a silver bullet to take one of these dudes down and who has any of those lying around. Werewolves are pretty spooky because they're regular people the majority of the time. This is why I don't take dudes home from the bar when it's a full moon. Believe.

Ghost - Okay, so sometimes I watch that show "Medium" or "The Sixth Sense" and when I try to fall sleep I think man, if I get up to take a wiz in the middle of the night, I really don't want some whiner ghost with issues boo-hooing around my apartment. Solve your own problems, ghost. Ghosts aren't scary, just annoying.

Vampire -
Sure, they are all the rage right now and I used to think they were scary as fuck but now I just want to have sex with them. So confusing.

Zombie -
So spooky. Once these guys get their brain munching mission rolling it is crazy hard to stop them. It wouldn't even be cool to be a zombie. All you do is hunt for brains to eat, you can't fly or haunt or get busy. And has there ever been a gay zombie flick? Did I just think of a new porn genre?

Mummy - I dressed up as a Mummy Mommy (pregnant mummy) a few years ago and man did that suck a serious Halloweener. White long johns and a towel stuffed in my stomach, then wrapped in gauze. Going to the bathroom was pretty much impossible and I got drunk and sweaty and barfy. So I would say that Mummies can suck it, except that one of my favorite jokes is: Your momma so old, she farts Mummy dust.

Clown - The first scary movie I ever saw was "Killer Clowns From Outer Space." Yeah, if I watched it now I would probably think it's cheesy and laugh but you know what, I am 27 years old and waaaaay too scared to. Clowns are and forever will be about a ten on the spooky scale. No, fuck that, eleven. They win.


Whilst on the train the other day, I found myself faced with two separate but equally awful chicks: one had a sassy t-shirt on and the other was a white chick with dreads. Obviously, I spent the remainder of the ride mentally debating which one I was more offended by.

Sassy t-shirts are pretty annoying. In general, I am a solid color t-shirt gal and have never felt the need to express my opinions via my rack, which speaks for itself, nah mean. So yeah, opinionated t-shirts are annoying, but when they have glitter or are written in bubbles letters and all caps and say things like "NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND" or contain any exclamation marks at all, it kind of makes me want to set fire to whoever woke up and decided today's the day, today I will let the world know that Grrrl Power does indeed Rock.

And white people with dreadlocks, when will you learn. After much inner turmoil, I concluded that these are in fact the greater of the two evils. T-shirt wise, we're willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you're doing a walk of shame home from a 13-year-old-girl's house, or to quote Chris, "Maybe you're Roman Polanski." Either way, no matter what your reasoning was for pulling that sassy scrap of ridiculousness over your head, t-shirts are not usually pre-meditated, where as dreadlocks are the result of months and months of pent up bullshit Dave Matthews love and whip-its and patchouli, sadly being rolled into little turds of broken dreams and jam band circle-jerks.

Then I saw a dude wearing Crocs with socks. And the journey begins again.

Thanks for pic, Gandy.


Since I've received a few comments on my flight skills (Jenny: "I have never met anyone as good at missing their flight as you," Andrew: "Wait you thought your flight was Sunday but it was Saturday?") I've decided to write a separate blog about this.

Yeah so me and airplanes, no bueno. That's the summary of this blog pretty much but allow me to go into more details about humorous situations I've had at the airport.

- Showing up wasted. I had a flight once at 5:45am and Jenny convinced me to stay up all night before hand. I blacked out and have no idea how they let me on or even how I made it through security. Then I asked the girl sitting next to me to buy me a water! Even funnier, on the way to Vegas a few weeks ago I missed my flight going out for being wasted and showing up 55 minutes ahead instead of an hour. I started throwing a fit so my coworker made me go wait outside. I'm a class act.

- Showing up stoned. This happened to me just the other day. When the security guy said my flight was the night prior it took me a good 2 minutes to process this. It's funny because I never even bothered to look at the date on the ticket. I did a whole mess of things on Sunday due to my overwhelming confidence that my flight was Sunday night.

- Showing up a day early. Yes this has happened to me as well. I'm really not that observant. When I called my grandma to tell her this she said "Try to get on a flight, I've already made my peace with you leaving today."

- Not paying attention to which airport I was actually flying from. This happened to me last week. I mean, there are 3 airports out here so fuck me if I actually pay attention to which one I'm flying out of. I realized 2 hours prior to my flight that it was Newark, of all places, so had to haul ass from Brooklyn. Yup.

- Sitting at the wrong gate and missing my flight as a result. This happened to me once and it wasn't until after my flight took off that I realized I was at the wrong gate. When I finally got over to the right one they were laughing and asked why I didn't hear my name being called over the loud speaker. Answer: cause I was jammin' to Mars Volta on my discman, and yes this was 2003.

(p.s. This pic is muy caliente skater Rob Gonzalez, I wish I was that hat)

Boner of the Day

Aaaaand we're back with another boner of the day. I just saw Zombieland and Woody Harrelson is my new fav. He's so boneable in this movie! Also Bill Murray (one of Jenny's secret boners) makes what is probably the most epic cameo I've ever seen in any movie. Go watch that shit.

Bluegrass Time

I've been in SF so apologies for not updating the blog. My first order of business is to discuss my love for all things Bluegrass! I actually went with some buddies to the annual Bluegrass Festival over the weekend. Have you ever been to San Francisco? It's full of some freaky deaky people, especially at a banjo fest. I bought a pot brownie from a girl with rainbow knee-high socks on a whim. It helped me sleep through the red eye I had to endure Sunday night, which I actually showed up 24 hours late for. (I didn't realize Sunday at 12:15am meant my flight was actually Saturday night, woops!).

Anyway I'm back now and really feeling some old school Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt. Here's an epic song, "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" performed on the Letterman show by Earl Scruggs and Steve Martin.

No judging!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Cheese Caves

There is this thing called Open House New York that I have been hitting up for the past few years, with my friend Cara. It's pretty rad, you get to go see a lot of things you normally wouldn't be allowed into around the city, but there is one thing I have been trying to go to for the past three years that has always been booked up; a tour of the Murray's Cheese Caves. Seeing as cheese can be filed under Things Jenny Would Die Without, I really tried to not shit the bed on this one. Or so I thought.

Ciao Jenny,

Unfortunately our OHNY tours are already sold out (if you can believe it! They were all filled up by 11:34 PM Thursday night!) I will certainly keep you in mind, should we have any cancellations. In the meantime, if you are dying to see our caves, we do offer the same tours throughout the year. The next one will happen in January, so stay tuned to for more details.

Hope to see you soon!

As you can imagine, this was very distressing news to me. I expressed this to my friend Cian. His response:"i think it's clear what you need to do - sleep with the cheese cave butler. i mean, i think i would." He assured me that I can't get in trouble for propositioning, so I decided to go for it. But first, a quick Google search, cause I might have been serious if dude turned out to be cute. And that is when I remembered that "Taylor" is a chick's name too sometimes.
My response:

Oh no! Man, I have been trying for three years to get it together for this and i thought I finally had it! Bummer. okay, well if there's any cancellations for either day, please let me know!
Or anything else I can do to get in... WINK WINK

To summarize: I just sent an email to a cheese monger, hinting at gay sex in order to get a tour of her caves. Just imagine if this bitch owned a brewery.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Gay Makeouts

Don't get excited, I'm not talking about making out with girls since I am not a lesbian, I just play one on TV. Although I did text my friend Leslie last night that I would do Terry from "Just One Of The Guys" when she was a man OR woman. But for now, I'm talking dudes I made out with that managed to sneak under my gaydar. Tricksy gheyz.

1. One time I made out with this hot dude at a party and he asked me out. We went to eat, then back to his place (which was on like 106th Street, shocking how far I will travel for sexy time). At his apartment, I was a little spooked out by the decor, which resembled a Jersey housewife circa 1947 and also how into his Boston Terrier he was, but regardless, we began to break out the makeout. Things started getting nekkid, and that's about when I noticed dude had a belly button ring. With a blue gem on it. Think I set a record for putting my pants back on and my excuse was the Oh Shit, I Left The Iron On variety.

2. A dancer at Urge. This is a gay bar and by dancer I may mean stripper. Okay, in hindsight, this one is probably my fault.

3. Andrew's ex-boif. Met this dude at Lit and was all hey, he looks like Michael Ian Black, I should try and make a baby or two with him. So we made out, then about a week later he started dating Andrew and they were scared to tell me. I'm not sure why, since I really wasn't trying to date no mo, but they eventually moved in together right next door to me and my then-boif, so it was all good. It was menage-a-weird for a minute there though.