Monday, November 30, 2009


Monday's after a vacation are seriously the poo and Jenny is making me blog today like the snatch she is.

The long weekend was a lovely break from the old 9-5 (or in my case 9:30-7:30). I decided not to travel anywhere because that shit sucks. As a result I ended up not leaving my neighborhood for 4 days unless it was to do something specific like eat oysters and drink martinis ...and go to the Russian bath house at Coney Island! Oh I almost also killed a $2000 dog that I was dog-sitting, which would have required a trip to the emergency vet, but luckily that trip was not added to my weekend itinerary.

Back to the bath house story. We were the only non-Russian kids at this jam and boy did we stick out like a sore thumb. Russians are slightly intimidating, just like in James Bond movies. Stereotypes are there for a reason, everyone! Morgan thought one of them was going to come kick us out / kill us, but it turned out he only wanted to pimp his Russian bath website. He then told us that the next time we go we need to a get a Russian to come with us who can show us the ropes. And where do I find these magical Kosicks? Seriously, if you know please tell me, because I'm slightly attracted to the burly, tattooed, scary-in-a-rapey-way type of dudes that were all over this place. I want the ins to this scene.

Anyway, it was rad and now I'm addicted just like Jim Belushi. Here are some songs I've been enjoying lately that are all related to the Knowles sisters. Holler.

Solange - Stillness is the move (Dirty Projectors cover) mp3

Florence +The Machine - Halo (Beyonce cover) mp3

The Big Pink - Sweet Dreams (Beyonce cover) mp3

Turkey Day

Thanksgiving? Nailed it. This was the first Turkey Day I didn't spend with my family and was feeling a bit sentimental about it, despite Shanon's sage advice to "Get the fuck over it" so I decided to celebrate with my buddy Andrew and his friends (the majority of whom I had never met). In traditional Jenny fashion, I proceeded to eat and/or drink everything possible. The highlight of the evening was when somebody handed me a pipe made out of an apple (just like the pilgrims!) which I attempted to smoke, but instead burnt the end of my nose with the lighter flame and now look like Rudolph. The other people in my office have yet to comment on it, but if they do, I will direct their inquiries to Andrew and he can explain why he thought it was a good idea to start mixing me up whiskey drinks at about three that afternoon.

All in all, I am gonna say the holiday was a success and I am hoping the rest of the season is filled with more of the same; good friends, food, booze, a whole mess of decisions I will probably regret and a phone full of text messages I don't remember sending. And my fire extinguisher will be accessible at all times.

Taking this photo was the last part of Thanksgiving I remember.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Knocked Up

You know what is even worse than the regular nutty-hot model chicks gracing the covers of the bajillion magazines that get delivered to my work? FitPregnacy cover models. Not only are they superhumanly good looking to begin with, the bun in their oven doesn't even make them fat, they just look "glowing" and stoked AND they have huge knockers; the only thing I can usually one-up these broads on.

Models are already playing with a genetically stacked deck, the least they can do is have an eating disorder or an addiction to an illegal drug, the last thing I want to hear about is their wonderful husband and bundle of joy. This in no way means I want a child of my own, seeing as I can barely take care of myself and woke up last Monday morning with a 50/50 chance of not having electricity, because I forgot to open the two notices/bills they sent me. Since when does the color red stand for "warning" anyways? So yeah pregnant models, no thanks. That kid better be an accident.

In other news, I think I am going to make a pre-emptive call to Child Protective Services the next time I see someone posing for those "Lookee me! I am being Artsy whilst preg-o" awful glamour shots from one of those places you find at the mall. There is a reason people are only pregnant for nine months instead of always (unless you're Irish-Catholic) it's because that's not how you are supposed to normally look! Why would I want to cherish the memories of a time when I was obese and sober? I ate a mess of food last night in celebration of Turkey Day and I have since been avoiding mirrors at all costs, not snapping polaroids.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Musings on Chris Brown

Today, being the day before Thanksgiving, is the most boring of all boring work days. Let's see how many out of office auto replies I can get before I want to shoot myself. Or better yet, let's discuss Chris Brown!

My room mate just recently called me an old lady because last week I announced that I had finally listened to this "Chris Brown fellow" and found his music "quite good." He was previously only known to me as that dude who beat up Rihanna. I do not, I repeat DO NOT, endorse girlfriend beatings under any circumstances. I do however, endorse excellent dance routines.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Why I Don't Get Work Done

Thank God the work I am given to do takes me about four minutes, otherwise I don't know how I would ever find the time to doctor up photos like this that Andrew sends me. I have been silently crying with laughter at my desk for the past fifteen minutes.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Boner of the Day

New Moon! Or, as I like to call it, New SWOON. Seriously, me-yow. There were some hot bitches in this movie! There was one wolf in particular that caught my fancy. I did a little stalking and here he is on the right with some of the other werewolves. Also, Taylor Lautner without his shirt on? Yes please. I just found out he was born in 1992 which made me throw up in my mouth a little being that I am trying to curb my pervy, pedo ways ...but I'd still hit it.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Makin' Mama Proud

I've been reminding myself all week long that it's my momma's 50th today (yeah she's young and I'm an "accident"). Last night I decided it would be great to send her some flowers to really seal the deal that I'm one of those caring daughters. I'd just had a lot of wine and Tanqueray gimlets so coming up with the appropriate note to send with the flowers was tricksy. Here's what I came up with:


...For being a rad mom! Happy Birthday! I love times 100 million other moms. Oh and hi Noni. Love, Shanon."

That is verbatim. Yes, I gave my grandma shout-out.

Friday, November 20, 2009

I'm Turning Into My Grandpa

9 times out of 10 I am late to work in the morning because of a shoe-related quandary. This is pretty pathetic because I basically own the same 3 pairs of shoes but in slightly different colors. This morning it was "Oh noes, do I wear the brown Wallabees or the other brown Wallabees? Or maybe the tan Wallabees?!" Seriously, this is what goes on in my head.

My grandpa used to buy at least two of everything but I always chalked this up to the fact that he was a Navy man with an identical twin. I, on the other hand, have no excuse for owning 4 pairs of Vans, 3 pairs of Clarks, 3 pairs of near identical Chukkas / dessert boots, and 4 different kinds of Oxfords. And aside from the Vans, all of my shoes are either black or brown.

To make matters worse (or more hilarious, if you will) TWO days this week I have matched shoes with a dude I work with. Yesterday we were in a meeting and one guy said "Oh hey, Roger [name has been changed], what kind of shoes are those?" And Roger goes "Well I believe they're the same shoes Shanon has on."

In short, I'm an old man trapped in a the body of a 27-year old lady. Here's what I'll look like in old age... or maybe tomorrow.

Boner of the Day

My future husband! This week's New Yorker is double-sized and all about food (cause of Turkey Day and all). It's probably my favorite issue of the whole year. I was so consumed by it on the train that I almost missed my stop, so stumbling upon this Vice "DO" first thing was like a sign from jeebus that my future will be rife with hot skindhead foodies. Yes, I just said that. (Click to enlarge).

People You Never Want To Be Hot

Dentist. When I got my wisdom teeth pulled out at NYU's house of discount dentistry, my student doctor was pretty bangin. This was problematic because he kept making all of these jokes and I couldn't laugh or even talk and then he pulled my teeth out and my face looked like the kid from "Rocky," at which point I concluded that hitting on him was futile. So I decided to make the best of the situation and hit him up for some Vicadin. Silver linings, I find them.

This needs no further explanation.

Bodega Guy. When I lived in Little Italy, my bodega guy used to always ask me out and I never said yes and/or understood why. They see you at your absolute worst; when you're sick, when you're crazy wasted, when you haven't slept for two days, when you're too lazy to cook so you get a bag of heat peanuts and a Guiness for dinner as I did Monday, the list goes on and on. One time, around 7am, I tried to return a six-pack of frozen beer to my bodega that I hadn't even purchased from there. Took me a solid ten minutes of arguing with the dude before I figured it out. Another occasion, I had a sandwich thrown point-blank in my face. If any of these guys were even remotely attractive I would have to walk an extra three blocks to an uglier-person operated one.

Pharmacist. I had shingles a few years back, which is essentially chicken pox for grownups and who doesn't want those again. They hurt like a bitch and doctors don't know why people get them and there's really nothing you can do but wait them out. The medication they give you for this, I think just for kicks, is Valtrex. This prescription is not only really fun to get filled (since making people think you have herpes is a great conversation starter) but it also makes you want to spew everywhere I discovered! What Washington really needs to do is figure out a away to tack a No Hot Pharmacist rider onto the healthcare overhaul crap. Believe.

Cousins. I'll be honest, I have a couple of cousins that make me entertain thoughts of eloping to backwoods Kentucky, but if I ever decide to get on board the baby express, I'd rather my children have the correct amount of fingers, toes and genetic mutations. Before you put your judgy pants on and call me out for my lax incest policy, just be happy I didn't say siblings.

Thursday, November 19, 2009


This piece of clothing is perplexing to me. Are they even considered clothing? A lot of times they're made of terry cloth so that's half towel, right. It lives in the bathroom instead of the closet, so when my clothes get into crazy battles while I'm away at work (as everyone knows they do) it's gonna be on Team Towels and fuck my jeans and underpants up. It's probably cool with shirts though, they both have sleeves so they're like cousins I imagine. But if I was a robe I would be mad bitter about never getting to leave the house so maybe I would knife a cardigan.

And are they sexy? I can see how they should be, cause you're nekkie underneath, but people look so frumpy and un-hot in bathrobes that it makes me lose all desire to have them remove it.

Anyways, I never had a robe growing up and a few years ago I asked my then-boif for one and he ended up getting me two; a "Summer Robe" and a "Winter Robe." Summer robe is green and lightweight and really short (American Apparel at it's slutty best) and I loved it until I had a slumber party with a male friend of mine who maybe said it was hot but also called it "comically shortened." I still wear it, but always eye it suspiciously first.

I was rocking Winter Robe a few weeks ago when Blair stopped by. It was poor timing, as I had just gotten out of the shower and my nose was bleeding for reasons not involving drugs. Blair had picked up a picture of us from about five years ago and said, "Aww, you look so good here, so happy." To which I responded, "As opposed to what?" and he said, "Uh, I dunno, running around in a big frumpy white robe with a bloody nose at three in the afternoon."

So, I think I will be going back to the trusty drip dry and quietly lay my robe dreams to rest. Shanon owns four, by the way.

Addicted to Hugging

Believe it or not I am full of love. And because I am full of love I like to hug people. This is true always but especially when I'm drunk. The other week I had a bunch of clients in town (the advertising kind, not the hooker kind) and I got a bits tipsy and gave them all hugs when I said hello. As in, "Hey! Good to see you again so-and-so" then I reached in for the hug. It really seals the "I-care-about-you-as-a-client" deal, in my opinion.

Or so I thought.

The next day by boss pulled me aside after having had a meeting with said client tell me that they said I hug too much! I'm not making this up! They said my hugging was making them uncomfortable. I said unless my hugging turned into humping and french-kissing their ears and nose, I have no clue how this could make anyone uncomfortable. It's a hug! You have to be a pretty miserable person to hate hugs so much that you tell said hugger's boss.

Or perhaps you're a Christian thug. My friend just sent this to me, and according to this rap I'm going straight to hell. It doesn't exist, so I'm not scurred, but honestly if it did exist I'd be going straight there for waaaay worse reasons than a hug. Enjoy.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Boner of the Day

Yes, sometimes boners of the day can be inanimate objects, such as this incredibly rad-as-fuck handmade leather bike bag you see below. I met the dude who makes these last weekend and would have made him the boner of the day, since he was somewhat of a silver fox, but he had a ponytail. If there was a boner-killers Most Wanted list, ponytails would definitely be in the top three. This minor detail switched him from Team Hot Dad to Tim Robbin's character in "High Fidelity," the loser new-age hippie dickwad that blonde whats her face starts boning after breaking up with John Cusack.

This is not to say I wouldn't be opposed to a good old fashioned barter of "goods" if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Awkward Spaces

1. The hallway in front of my office's bathroom. I don't know about you, but nothing's more awkward than coming out from the whiz factory and seeing a coworker waiting to go in right after me. I always get terrifying thoughts of unflushed dingleberries. Total mind fuck.

2. Elevators. Oh yes, because I love being crammed in a box with complete strangers who are undoubtedly full of fart bombs.

3. Subways. I really hate it when I'm sitting in one of the 3 seaters and the middle seat is empty but then some big-bootied lady feels the need to cram herself in there. But I also equally hate it when I accidentally touch someone and they get all pissy from human contact. It's crowded, what do you want me to do! Then there was the time someone slapped my ass. I couldn't figure out who did it cause the train was so packed, but really?

4. Taxis. I actually only hate cabs in cities that are not New York. In every other city (I'm thinking specifically Portland, San Francisco and Las Vegas) they want to find out where you're from and what you do and if you like onions on your In-N-Out Burger. It's invasive! New York cabbies know that you don't a give a fuck about them, and they don't give a fuck about you.


Certain things you know you have coming to you. They can be bad or good, but are usually necessary and this is why I try (for the most part) and keep my Karma on the level. This morning I came out of the subway and thought hmm, it has been awhile since I have been shit on by a bird and it led me to ponder some other predicaments I'm overdue like a library book for.

Be Shit On By A Bird. Yeah, I have literally been dodging these bullets for a solid five years now. Tick tock.

Cry Really Hard. I rarely get in bad moods, but lately, life has been not exactly handing me lemons, but more like asking me to do a tequila shot with it and then squirting the lemon juice into my eye. So I feel like I'm up for one real soon.

Get Blind Drunk & Make Out With A Random Person. Woops, apparently I took care of this one last Thursday night, as I was informed on Friday. Now I have to avoid eye contact with every dude in my neighborhood, since they are all suspect. Great.

Get Arrested. This is something I actually never need to do (again).

Jury Duty. Son of a bitch bastard, I am gonna have to deal with getting out of this in about three months. Good thing I am equally racist against everybody.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Woops, We're Pedophiles

Andrew sent this video our way today and bless his queer little heart because nothing says "see ya later, hangover" like teen boys in underpants. If this makes me a sex offender then color me pedo, because I don't think there's a 15 year old in the bunch I wouldn't make a man out of.

EY! MAGATEEN 5 from Luis Venegas on Vimeo.


This morning I woke up in my room mate's bed wearing nothing but my bath robe (she was not home). I have no idea how I wound up in there, but when I went back to my own room I found my bedside lamp smashed to pieces on the floor and a coworker in my bed. Obviously I kicked last night's ass, but now I'm feeling very ill and want a slice of pizza even though I just ate a bagel half an hour ago.

What's a girl to do? Look up bro tats for her and her girlfriend Jenny, that's what.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Butcher Boif

Last night I went to Marlow & Daughters to get a shit-ton of pork and subsequently fell in love with one of the butchers there. He was making blood sausages while giving me brining advice, muy caliente! Wait, I feel like I just described the opening sequence of some really fucked-up porn. Anyway I should've added "butcher" to my previous list of who'd I sleep with in order to get free shit because quality meat is not only expensive but so delicious! They also have this aged cheddar at Marlow that is 19 bucks a pound but it tastes like crack butter so I will totally buy it with my Department of Labor unemployment credit card.

I think it's telling that my last 3 crushes have been an employee of my favorite sandwich shop, the fish guy at the farmer's market, and now a butcher. Basically I want a man that feeds me. Is that too much to ask? I didn't think so.

Speaking of butchers, remember "So I Married An Axe Murderer?" Such a good fucking movie, and yet another prop to my queer hometown!

iTunes, You Tricky Bastard

Here's a tip: If you see the song "Hard Knock Life" by Girls on iTunes, DO NOT buy. It is not an amazing cover by the SF band, oh no, it's literally the song from Annie, sung also very literally by girls.

What a crock of shit. This bitch keeps coming up in my random shuffle and it makes me want to punch a kitten.

Here's the actual band's video for "Lust For Life," directed by Aaron Brown. SF is the cat's pajamas.

What's Cookin'

It is a well-known fact amongst our friends that I cannot cook for shit. This never really bothered me, since I am lazy and like eating food more than making it, but Shanon's annual Friendsgiving is coming up and when I asked what I should make, she said, "Napkins, plates & cups." Right. When I objected, she sent me a recipe for some corn side dish bullshit that I think a one-armed Special Ed. kid could probably whip up. I politely declined and am now bringing a cheese plate. And a mess of wine, because if I can't be Top Chef at this shindig, I'ma gun for Top Drunk.

But guess what, you wouldn't be too stoked on cooking neither, if your fridge looked like this. I took this picture in May, after one of my friends called me out on how sad it was.
Navigation tips:

1. If you see a carton of milk, never, ever drink it before checking the date. Ever.

2. Ooooh the wine looks tasty, but don't drink that either! I finally tossed it last week, after Shanon reached for it as most people do when they open my fridge. I have no idea why any of my friends think there would be a bottle of perfectly good un-drank booze just chillin out in my apartment. Have they met me?

3. It would be un-wise to open any of the drawers.

4. Don't drink my Rize or Four Locos.

5. You should probs steer clear of that mystery brown spot, which I have still been too lazy to clean.

Proverbs I Don't Get

Spent most of my shower this morning thinking about how there are so many dumb proverbs out there and was subsequently late to work. These are some I just can't get behind.

Beggers Can't Be Choosers.
This is most definitely un-true. Just the other day I was telling that deadbeat Shanon to make with the free iPhone cases she's been promising me for months and she finally came through and the only color left was a hot pink one. Get that shit out of here.

Don't Look A Gift Horse In The Mouth.
Where do these magical gift-barfing horses live and why have I never seen one. All I ever see is regular, good-for-nothing horses, and the only presents I've seen them leave is piles of turds in the streets. And the only horse's mouth I would consider looking in is Mr.Ed's, since he can talk and whatnot.

Straight From The Horse's Mouth. See above.

Don't Shit Where You Eat.
I mean, I get that it's probably un-wise to take your meals whilst on the throne, but how is this a euphemism for "Don't Ride the Bone Rollercoaster With Your Co-worker."

Never Judge A Book By It's Cover. By books we really mean people, right, and of course you judge people by their looks, this is the reason internet dating is possible. I try and give people the benefit of the doubt (not really) but I'm pretty sure the chick wearing purple Ugg boots and a sassy t-shirt who is flipping through InTouch weekly and me aren't going to be meeting up to compare notes on Dostoevsky anytime soon.

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold.
What? No. Revenge is a dish best served Bag Of Poo On Fire style, with a side of I Nailed Your Mom As Payback.

Like Throwing A Hotdog Down A Hallway. Not really a proverb, but I do get it and I find it hilarious, what a great mental image. One of my favorite things to do is ask people what their hallways look like when they picture this scenario. My hallway is the second floor of an apartment building, with blue carpeting and white walls. I have no idea why.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

How I Talk Shanon Out of Eating Coookies

Shanon is trying to not eat cookies apparently, so I have been trying to help her out. I also like to try and IM her embarrassing things in huge fonts in hopes that her co-workers will see them.

This actually reminds me of a story. A few years back, I got a plate of food from the resto across the street from my apartment. As my buddy who works there was handing me my change, he accidentally dropped a dime into my food. He was like oh shit, I will get you a new plate and I said not to worry about it, I will just pick it out, no biggie.

Then he goes, "Change really grosses me out because I think about how my Mother told me that when bums go to sleep at night, they hide their change in their butts so other bums can't steal it when they go to sleep." Let that one sink in, and he got me a new plate of food.

The Hungover Hornies

Everyone's made a pit-stop in this town, right. Being hungover and horny, what a delightful rollercoaster ride. And so confusing! Because the possibility of barfing while getting busy is always lurking right around the corner. You don't really want to be moving around all that much, but horny-wise, all that leftover booze in your bloodstream is equivalent to a thirteen year old boy touching boobs for the first time while on Viagra.

You know when you're coming down with a case of this when you're riding the train on the way to work and everyone starts lookin real good, but do not fall for this my friend; you are just still drunk. The ride home is gonna be way less sexy. All you can do is try and power through until happy hour and drink those unattractive people back to hot. What a vicious cycle.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Boner of the Day

After reading Jenny's hilarious albeit egregiously long rant about Blake Lively's boobs, I decided to abandon my post about how much I love cookies and post some pics of hot dudes (ok and a few grunge chicks). Here are some boners of the day.

Viggo Mortensen in Lord of the Rings (this one's just for me)

Paul Rudd!

Daniel Dae Kim (holy shit he's like the Koren Daniel Day-Lewis)

The cast of Empire Records

Blake Lively's Tits

I just asked Shanon for permission to make a post about this. Not sure why. But she told me to "Embrace the mo" and I will assume she meant "moment." Yeah, Blake Lively's tits have been staring me right in the face lately, to the point where I am beginning to do things like question my sexuality and wonder if they have been genetically engineered by the government to make me do things like pay my taxes or stop shoplifting from the Salvation Army, because I will pretty much do anything those lady lumps tell me to.

This totally came out of left field, seeing as I have been on board the Blake Boat ever since she played the slutty chick who knocks cleats with the soccer instructor in "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" but this is simply because she was a ho after my own heart, not because I found her or her rack particularly noteworthy. And I am no stranger to Gossip Girl, only now I am finding myself mesmerized by Serena's boobies instead of the array of glorious quasi-gays I tune in for. Does that make me more of a gay man? Or less? Dammit, Blake.

How do straight dudes get anything done, I came into work today and the latest issue of Marie Claire was on my desk with Lively's tig ol' biddies jamming out on the cover and that shit was worse than a magic-eye poster, I had to put it away.

If tits could create World Peace, those twins would be Prime Minister. Allright, I'm done.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Nice Little Sunday

Jenny and I spent the afternoon writing and believe it or not we finished our pilot. I'd like to thank white wine and bong hits for making it all happen. Hey, I think I just came up with the speech I'll inevitably have to give when we win a Golden Globe for whichever award we win - best comedy series, best writing, best non-gay lesbian couple, who knows.

Afterward we went out and celebrated by getting manicures. We chose different colors that somehow ended up looking exactly alike and I'm not really sure what that means. But then we had a funny text message exchange. Enjoy.

Jenny: Email me script
Me: Yes massah
Me: Oh wait no, later. Reading. No computer touchee.
Jenny: Guhhh ur gonna forget.
Me: No I won't. Shut up.
Jenny: Never forget.
Me: Too soon.
Jenny: Too tsunami.

How I Spent My Saturday

I was going to title this one "I've Reached A New Low," but that seemed a bit melodramatic and not entirely true. I'm actually rather proud of how I spent my Saturday evening, but then again the entire experience says something about me that I'm not quite sure I should admit to. Mainly that I've given up on men, sex, partying and normal interactions with human beings. Let's relive my night, shall we?

I had to babysit a 9-year old (you like where this is going so far?), and decided to take him to the Brooklyn Museum to see some bands. I've know this kid since he was in diapers and actually enjoy taking him out to events with my contemporaries. Are they going to think he's my kid or my little brother? Who knows! Either way I keep them guessing and maybe I'll attract a hot dad. So many possibilities, you see.

So we get there and he's actually too engrossed in his Boba Fett book to pay any heed to the goings on around him. I allowed him to sit and read so long as he minded my purse, which he did. Meanwhile the bands played, I hung out with some friends ...and I drank a few beers. I haven't really been hittin' the sauce too hard lately so I got a little tipsy.

He wanted to bounce before the main band went on which I didn't care about anyway so we decided to go out and get some sushi. We ended up sitting at the end of the sushi bar, I ordered another beer and then we had some delightful conversation. At one point he told me that he wants to invent a heat-seeking missile, but instead of seeking temperature it seeks hot people and kills them. Kids these days! I laughed harder than I should have (because of the beers, mind you) and then begin to feel an uneasy sensation that people around us thought I was some kind of pervy pedo.

Who cares though, I ate a $5 piece of mackeral and some fried chicken, it was great! Then we went back to his house where I got my ass kicked by him and his older brother during a trash-talking game of Mario Kart.

Long story short, I had a great non-date date with a 9-year old (picture below). Apparently I have given up all hope of ever having a boyfriend. Or maybe I'm just that great of a babysitter. It's a toss-up at this point.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Mr. Masseuse

I should've added "masseuse" to my list of boys I would sleep with in exchange for free shit. Well that didn't sound slutty one bit.

Anyway the other night in my sleep I pinched a nerve in my back. For those of you that have never experienced this, let's just say it's not very pleasant. I immediately texted 5 coworkers who I suspect of prescription drug abuse (in a good way) and lucky for me one of them actually came through with the codeine. Taking it at 10am turned out to be a mistake though as I had to immediately go home and vomit. I don't do well with over-the-counter drugs. When I told my nurse mother about it her first response was "be careful with codeine it makes you super constipated." Thanks for the sage advice, mom.

So here I am, 2 days later and still not capable of moving my neck. I made an appointment for a theraputic massage in my neighborhood and have since spent my time trying to look up if the masseuse is hot. His name is Thomas, he works at Opal Center ( and he's going to make all my pain go away. Let the stalking commence.

Thursday, November 5, 2009


I was hanging out with my friends and their two cats last night and have subsequently been thinking about cats all morning. Now lord knows I love me some Big Box & Maru and a life sans lolcats isn't worth living, but I am not a "cat person" per se. And why do people with cats always try to talk you into getting a cat? Last night, Cara told me I should invest in a cat and then Luke showed me this video, which made me not only decide to never, ever get one, but also made me scared as fuck to even pet one now, lest I catch the cray and find myself stocking up on Fresh Step and Meow Mix. Nice saleswork guys.

Take U To Da Movies

This shit is like Rap 101: Stacks of Benjamins! Lamborghinis! Sudan! Uh...Nah mean. These dudes are so adorable, your racist Jewish Grandma wouldn't even mind if you dated them. I can't stop watching this video, big ups to Lukey for showing me this and making my day.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Sports, A Breakdown

Here are my favorite sports in order of hot boys. Yes this post has taken me all day.

1. Soccer. Sha-wing! This sport is off the hot charts. Just look at some of my favorites here, Michael Ballack, Jens Lehman and Steven Gerrard. Don't ask me how I know these guys. My nerddom knows no bounds, and that includes random sports in remote and exotic locations such as "England" and "Germany." Seriously though, I've had a boner for Steven Gerrard since I was 20.

2. Football. Tom Brady alone makes the entire sport boi-oi-oing worthy. What did ladies do before him, I wonder? I don't recall Joe Montana being that smokin...

3. Quidditch. JUST KIDDING, this is not a real sport, you see. Still... the actors who portrayed these players are quite attractive. Here we have Cedric Diggory (played by what's his face, that dude on the panties) and Victor Krum. I'd gladly make a Shanon-sandwich with these two.

4. Hockey. I don't know anything about this sport and I wouldn't know any famous players if they bit me in the ass, raped me in an alley, or bought me a drink at Max Fish. I like the idea of missing teeth though, so this sport comes in at numero 4.

5. Baseball. These guys are all fat and lazy, right? I'm totally into that! But lookie who I just discovered. Well hello Phillies pitcher, Cole Hamels. David Wright's not so bad either, but in general I find baseball boring as fuck and it's players totally predictable, steroid-enhanced weiners who prefer to find women at the local (strip) club. Snap.

6. Basketball. Dead last I'm afraid. I get the distinct impression that all basketball players are prima donnas who don't know how to dress themselves and have really terrible taste (hence the reason why one of them is marrying a Kardashian).

Dunkin' Donuts

In the tradition of "I want to go to there," I just discovered that Dunkin' Donuts makes 5 "ethnic donuts" including a kimchi donut. What what! I'm totally sold. Jenny and I made a delightful kimchi dinner the other night (no homo) but this donut looks like the cat's tits, or kimchi-de-resistance, if you will.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Boner of the Day

Dave Salmoni. Me-ow. Dude is bangin' and kicks it with tigers and sharks and koalas all damn day. I could make with the "bush-man" jokes and "exploring my outback" and whatnot, but instead let's just enjoy the pictures of this tiger he-beast in all of his glory. Does the Mary Fairy come and sprinkle queer dust on me while I sleep? Because every day I seem to wake up a little closer to becoming a gay man...

Mmm, Punny

Few things amuse me more than punny names for eating establishments. I'm not sure what people are going for when they slip a pun into their restaurant name. Is their angle "We don't take our food seriously and neither should you"?

And does the joke get old? I imagine the owner walking into work every morning, shaking their heads and silently having a private chuckle to themselves. These are some of my favorites:

Wok N Roll. If you're gonna open one of those ghetto Chinese corner deals in the city, I'd rather it be named something comical than "Happy Fun Wok Lucky Fried Golden Joy House" since no one actually eats at those places anyway*.

Wok on the Dock. Chris just sent me this one, a Chinese resto in the harbor town he grew up in, Northport, Long Island. Every time I think of this town, I remember another friend from there who had a shirt that said "Northport is a drinking town, with a fishing problem." I think about that shirt all the damn time. No idea why.

Thai Me Up. Ehh, this one's weak, I just happened to walk past it the other day. I prefer Phuk It Thai. Haha.

Sacred Chow. Me rikee, probs because I am a pussy vegetarian. Shanon has been on my jock all morning because of this for some reason, regarding her upcoming "Pork & Pinot" party, to which I was told I would have to "provide for myself" and was then informed it was not, in fact, a "Lettuce & Pinot" party. Then was told to fuck myself and was un-invited. Best friends, gotta love 'em.

Pastafarian. Jah! This place is at the Jersey Shore, of course.

Crepes of Wrath. Thank you Gavin, for coming up with this one and we get that you're into "books" and went to "college." Still funny though, Professor Puns-A-Lot.

I Dream of Panini. Bennie coined this guy and I still laugh every time I see a panini. Solid gold.

*That was a lie, I used to have a date every week with my boy Adam to eat here. Wok Wednesdays. That shit was tight.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Boner of the Day

Gary Oldman as Sirius Black. So. Fucking. Hot. Seriously the only thing hotter is Gary Oldman as Dracula, but let's face it they're both pretty much the same thing. Gary Oldman is such a fucking badass. I don't care how old he is, I'd still hit it.