Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Jeriatric Park

Oh muh guh. Remember when I mentioned my guest appearance in my Dad's "Jurassic Park" sketch?
It DOES exist.

Shannie's Music Poo Baw Whatever

A few days ago I sent a group email to all of my SF buddies (ex-boif included) about how they all need to go see Die Antwoord play in a few weeks out there. The ex-boif responded with a weenie bo beenie email about how he wouldn't want to subject even his worst enemy to 30 seconds of Die Antwoord. My response? "Oh go listen to some pop punk." Ba. Zing. He seriously has the worst taste in music.

Here's some new shit for you turds.

Crocodiles - Sleep Forever
They guys are bros and ok sure they sound like the J&MC but who gives a shit. I don't!

Tame Impala - Solitude Is Bliss
"This band is teepee worthy." My buddy said that about these Aussies and I, uh, concur. I met one of them over the weekend because I'm awesome, obvi, and I lost my shit. He gave me his email addie which was probably a mistake cause we all know I love to write the fan letters.

The Drums - Me and the Moon

This song is uber fun and gay and rainbows and reminds me of Gandy. You go girl.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Boner of the Day

Sailors! I know, I know, it's a little...je ne sais ghey, but I'm going full steam ahead on this one. A bunch of muscly seamen in tight-fitting outfits and jaunty caps? Color me Land ho.

Not sure where my current obsession with this came from, maybe because it's Summer and I'm in beach mode or maybe 'cause you know they're only gonna be docking in your port for a week? Hmm, I think I may enjoy making dirty sailor puns more than the sailors themselves. So dirty! Truth be told, I have never  hook, line and sinkered a real live sailor since I prefer my crabs followed with a Lobsterita, not a visit to the STD clinic, but if I manage to get my hands on one of those Cap'n hats....rook out. This post has also made me realize I don't drink enough rum.



Ahoy hoy.


Anchors up.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

(Rightful) Boner of The Day

WELL, WELL. It appears that while I was doing "real" work here at my job, Shanon dipped in and stole my blog thunder - Dan Conner from "Roseanne." Sending out that video by accident serves her right. That's what happens when you displease the Boner Gods.

But yes, he is perfect. A funny, flannel-wearing, fat, father of three? Who loved Roseanne at her fattest and put up with Becky at her bitchiest? Swoon! How I see it, you may think you want caviar (world cup  boners) every day, but that shit would eventually become a snooze and you'd be all I'm sick of eating fish eggs, what I could go for is some Dorito-eating on the couch in my underpants. And this is Dan Conner. The peanut butter to my fancy jam.

Shanon and I got stoned last weekend and had ourselves a good six-hour Roseannathon, during which we had the following conversation:


Me:"I think I'm in love with Dan Conner."
Shanon: "Dibs."
Me: "I don't even know what that means. He's not real."
Shanon: "If we see any Dan Conners, I get dibs on them."
Me: "Where are we gonna find Dan Connerses?"
Shanon: "I dunno."

Too bad after this little stunt (Goddammit, she even used the same pics I was going to!) all bets are off.



Boner (Move) of the Day

I was doing some research on my next BOD, Dan Conner, when I actually pulled the most retarded move of my life. A sneaker company came to our office not too long ago to see how fast we could sprint and then they turned it into a cute little video. I had just received said video at the same time I was doing research for my Dan Conner brog. Then I sent the sprinting video around to the whole sales staff and wrote "hahaha, look at Jack [name has been changed] fall at :38." I'm waiting to hear people start chuckling but what do I hear instead? The fucking theme song to Roseanne. O hai, Boss, I was totally not watching Roseanne at work, swearsies.

Boner move of the day. Here's some Dan Conner for you. I want to marry him.



Athletic Supporter, Shannie's Version

Jenny didn't even include Steven Gerrard!! The fuck. I mean, I've written about him on this blog before, AHEM. He is clearly the dreamiest dream boat to ever play soccer. I've liked this dude since he first started on Liverpool when he was about 16 (ruv you rong time!). He is now my age and married but whatever, there's something to be said for a decade-long crush. Here he is now, and here he is as a youngin'. I'd hit it at either age. Dibs, in other words.



Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Athletic Supporter

On the big list of Things That Interest Me Not, watching sports on TV is definitely up there. Don't get me wrong, I love going to sporting events, but that's more for the ambiance and booze I sneak in then the events themselves. I just don't understand why people enjoy watching sports on TV when there are shows like Wife Swap and Roseanne on, so this whole World Cup fever that everyone came down with all a sudden has been boring me to tears since the only thing worse then not caring is pretending to care. Then Gandy sent me this link. I really, truly did not think it was possible for people to be this hot. Has anyone seen my underpants? Oh right, I just threw them at my monitor. No more work for me today/week/month. I have officially Checked. Out.

These are my top picks:

Can a picture get you pregnant?? If so, Benny Feilhaber is now the father of my children. I can honestly say I have never been more proud to be an American.


Arne Friedrich. Eeeeeeeeeeeee!! This picture is like the fountain of youth because I am screaming like a thirteen year old girl right now.


Piotr Trochowski. Germans are efficient. At handing out ladyboners.


Iker Casillas. Ikerumba! (See what I did there).


Oguchi Onyewu. What the Hell Naw am I looking at here, is this a slamming sexy-nerd black dude covered in freckles? I can't even see anymore because one of his abs just poked my eye out. Fuck.
 

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Boney Island

This past Saturday was Coney Island's annual Mermaid Parade and since Shanon and I have both lived in New York for a decade now, we finally decided to see what it was all about. Wild stuff. I had the feeling like when you go to a renaissance fair and people are so into it that you know this is the highlight of their year and you wonder what they possibly do with the other 364 days of their life when they're not a merperson or part of a human chess set. Then I remembered I hate parades and so we decided to go lay on the beach instead.

Here are some primo quotes from our day:

"If someone saves your life from a fire you have to have sex with them." (Musings on whether firemen get round the clock poon)

"This is why we need to get rich - Boats. Then you don't even fuck around with the beach." (Noting how happy the people on boats looked and how packed like sardines the beach was)

"I never thought I would see that in my life." (These two chicks that we thought were dudes who were actually deaf lesbians*)

And here are some primo pics I took:

What's that Shanon is wearing, you say? FLIP FLOPS. Truly never thought I'd see this day, let alone have proof of it.


It's nice when people bring their pianos to the boardwalk.



Our view.


I took this pic cause my periscope was aimed at Cap'n Boner in the white hat, but I got sidetracked by the nutty washboard this chick was playing, that had a tin can and a cymbal strapped to it and she was wearing castanets on her hand! What the what. Hmm, she's kind of a babe too, I bet her & Boners Ahoy totally knock sandy hipster boots. Fuck you and your beautiful imaginary children.


Speaking of hot kids, this group of teenage punks set up shop right next to us and so Shanon and I did what any 28 year old would - made rape eyes and tried to lure them in with Coronas and cigarettes. The one reclining shirtless was our favorite. Too bad I couldn't zoom in on his rat tail. It was glorious.


*Name of our new band.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

My Favorite Thing in the Whole World

Irish coffee and weed! What a fucking brilliant combo. Coffee and weed are the tits, obvi, but this morning I had the brilliant idea to irish my coffee up with some Bulleit. My grammy bought it for me last weekend when she visited because she wanted me to have some "sipping liquor for after work." Have I mentioned that my Noni is amazing? The only time she pissed me off was when I was playing some Wanda Jackson while cooking and she told me it sounded like that Chipmunks Christmas album I used to play all the time. What a cunterific thing to say.

I am currently sitting on my couch waiting for hangover mcgee (aka my ladyfriend Jenny) to get here so we can go to Coney Island. It's Summer and yeah I'm gonna be pretty much drunk the whole time and I've taken quite a fancy to this drunk blogging as well so everyone hold on to your butts. It's gonna be a great couple of months.

There's no picture on this brog (racisisms) because I'm currently on my room mates laptop while smoking his weed. I think I might be an asshole. Both of my roomies have been out of town for a week and I have yet to do a single dish or put on pants.

Shanon out.

(p.s. Yenny just got here and immediately put up this video of her.)

Friday, June 18, 2010

Boners of Yesteryear

Bruce Springsteen. On Fridays (like today) when it's perfect weather outside and I am inside thinking about how I would like a FoxyPop but I'm too lazy to go down to the store and plus they probs only sell loosies of them in ghetto neighborhoods anyways, I like to play some Springsteen and think of him as my only boss.

Twenty years ago, he looked exactly like 98% of the dudes I've ever took a trip down Thunder Road with, but now he looks like somebody's creepy uncle who tells awkward jokes and invites you and your friends to smoke pot at their weird beach house in hopes of catching a nip-slip.
. . .
Anyone picking up what I'm throwing down here? Well what I'm saying is, tramps like us, baby we were born to run.



Hold On To Your Butts


Drunk texting: the beginning and end to all of our relationships.

The title of this post is my response to Shannaroo's texting bender last night. After texting me her new rule for the 4th of July ("everyone must drink champagne for breakfast") and informing me that we & Gandy are definitely going back to Chicago in a month to terrorize some shit ("No choice. Innit to winnit") she fired off this little gem:

Shanon: What would be your opinion if I boned a 17 year old? Cause there are some hot ones here I'm scoping.
Me: DUDE NO JAIL
Shanon: He asked me if I had a ciggie. It's on.

Duh, of course she texted Shuboner to the cater waiter. Didn't even need to consult the old crystal ball to predict that one. Chicks love drunk texting, what a great way to get all the crazy out in the open! Few things are better than waking up after a night of booze-cruising and seeing what kind of trouble you stirred up with your alkie-stick. Then you try and figure out why your brain decided it was essential to text someone about your favorite part of The Karate Kid and then demand nachos at 4am. At least my phone now saves sent texts, interesting times were had by all when it didn't.

We did eventually reach the conclusion that it's not us who is the problem:

Boner of the Day

It's been a while since I've done one of these, so let's just ease everyone back in with this delightfully sexy kitchen grinder. I'd let him put a bun in my oven. Hey-o! I'll be here all night, folks.



Thanks for the link Gandy-man

Oh, Gays!

I rode my room mates bike to work and am once again still slightly drunk. I was in one of those "la di da" bike riding moods where I just didn't give a fuck and rode in a long pencil skirt down the middle of the street. I almost crashed a couple times but hey, I made it!

Anyhoot, as soon as I sat down at my desk I remembered that before last nights' debacle drunk texting the hottie bo bottie cater waiter, Gandy and I hit up the gay bars and asked all the 'mos if they knew who just won the NBA finals.

It was a hoot! Here are some of the responses:

"Who won the what? Soccer?"

"Oh god no."

"Um, the Lakers?"

"The greens. They're lighter black. It goes with their skin tones. The yellow... not so much."

"My friends are from Boston, they won right?"

"I have no idea girl, I'm a faggot."

And did anyone else wonder why Khloe Kardashian wasn't in the audience? I fucking love her.

I'm soooo not cool

So I boned the hottest guy I will probably ever bone in my entire life and then I got drunk and sent him this link to Schubert. For no reason. I just like classical music, mmmkay. But seriously, what is wrong with me. He will clearly never talk to me ever again. Schubert is the shit though. Fuck I'm so wasted.


Wednesday, June 16, 2010

And on That Note



What's On My Mind Grapes

I am very hungover and can't form cohesive or logical thoughts but here are some things I've been mulling over today:

1. Cater waiters. I boned a super hot one last night (high five!) and that got me thinking-ish about how they must get laid all the time. Maybe instead of going to culinary school or becoming a pilot I should just get a job doing that. Then I would get all the dong.

2. That good Batman soundtrack. Was it Batman Forever or Batman & Robin that had U2 and Seal and all that shit. I can't really recall but my favorite Flaming Lips song was in the one with Jim Carrey. Fuck I am hungover and want to listen to Seal.

3. The cute dudes that work at my favorite sandwich shop. One of them gave me free mac n cheese today! He rung me up and was all "That'll be $15." To which I replied, "Are you out of your fucking mind? Take back my mac n cheese." So he took the cost off but then gave it to me anyway! If that dude wants to bone I am totally up for it. See boys? Give a lady free food and she's game for anything. Not backdoorsies though, never backdoorsies on the first date.

4. BBQ sauce. Mustard used to be my numero uno condiment but then the same cutie pie from the sammy shop suggested I put BBQ sauce on my egg n cheese. It was lovely and re-instilled my love for good sauce. That's right.

5. The Situation and the rest of the Jersey Shore. They became famous for nothing other than just being themselves. How inspiring.

6. This crazy hangover. I think it's a very bad sign that my hangover is only NOW getting to the barfy stage. That's supposed to happen on the subway ride to work and then I rush off at the next stop thinking I'm about to yak into a trash can. It's bad news that I'm only getting to this point in my hangover at 4pm. And on another note, perhaps I've finally figured out a way to beat the elusive hangover? Stay drunk constantly.

7. Showers. I really want one.

Complainy Bo Bainy

Know what people love doing? Complaining. And guess what, I love that shit too. My studies have shown that the facebooks and the Twitter are good places to find some serious complaints. Those status boxes get complaint-raped on a daily basis. Here's some of my favorite things to bitch about on the regs:

Brunch. man, if there's one thing I would never be, it's a brunch waiter. Dealing with a bunch of hungover people? YEAH RIGHT. Brunch is like prime time for complainers, when I'm hungover complaining is all I want to do, ever. It pretty much combines all the things I bum on (waiting, being thirsty, being hungry, people) when I have zero patience.

Weather. It's important to let other people know what temperature my body is or what I would like it to be at all times.

Work. Unless your work consists of discovering new dino bones or you officiate the Guinness Book of World Records, your job woes most likely interests me not. We all got 'em. Bosses suck. As do Mondays. Sa-nooze. But hey, Gandy just wrote me, "Ugh, two and a half more hours left" when only a half hour earlier I had said to Shanon, "Good god, is this day for real? 3 more hours." Whatreyagonnado.

Hungry. I think I would rather fight a ninja with one arm tied behind my back while on a tightrope over a pond stuffed with alligators than be around a hungry person, myself included. It's the worst. Once my best friend of twenty years almost broke up with me because I was hungry as fuck from running around the beach all day and our pizza got delivered to the wrong address. Shit got real.

Sleepy. My personal favorite. I'm always sleepy! Right now I am! And I'm gonna tell you allllll about it so buckle up and enjoy the ride.

The opposite sex. Can we just agree that we don't fucking get each other? Other than when I have the hangovers and all anyone wants is all the food, all the Gatorade, and all the sex, I have no idea what dudes are thinking and everyone knows chicks are nuts. So let's call it a draw and stop boring our friends and making Sex & The Cities about it already.



THE SITUATION

My day. My week. My month. My Summer. Meeting the Situation just made them all.

You think I look crazy? That's cause I'm still drunk!

Work Drunk

Oh hello, I didn't see you there. Most likely because I'm work drunk. But it's 10:00am you say? Yes, I'm aware. Let's preface this blog by saying it's entirely Shanon's fault. She made me go to some weirdo bo beardo work thing with her, where I had the privilege of meeting an already drunk Gandy, then we had a buttload of free cocktails on the roof of the Soho Grand (because we are swanky ladies, you see). At one point, we were looking at the view (see below) and Shanon turned to me with a sweeping hand gesture and said "Well, we've made it Jenny." I think I spit my drink out.


We then proceeded to go to another bar where we...danced? Seems likely. Anywho, I'm unsure how it's 11:00am and I'm still trying desperately to sober up, but I was bored on the train (and by bored I mean drunk) and so decided to record my thoughts, which went something like this:

"Well this is the most drunk I've ever went to work."

"I can probably sleep standing up. Gonna try."

"How much will I be judged if I show up with a sack of McDonald's."

"HOW ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE AWAKE"

"Let go of this pole so I can put my head on it and sleep you jerks."

"I think when I yawn people get drunk on vodka."

"You and your 'books'."

And there you have it. Now I am texting a twenty year old that Shanon used to babysit about where he is taking me on a date. Life is good. Here's a neon sign I apparently fancied. You're welcome.

Monday, June 14, 2010

My Grandma is Awesome, Racist

So yes we forgot we had a blog but yes there were valid reasons (read: eating food and watching TV), but the most recent reason was that my grandmother was in town visiting. It was sweet! And annoying. Some might say she is a very hip old lady but she also has this way of forming hyperbolic opinions about things she knows nothing about. She also feels compelled to comment about every single thing she sees. Oh and she's racist.

Here are some choice Grandma observations that I was smart enough to write down:

"It was just clever! And it made me laugh." (About Momofuku Ssam Bar, I wasn't sure if this was about the food or Asians in general)

"Your friend Alex is so nice and the first young gentleman I've seen with dark black hair in a while!"

"Those four men just walked in and then walked right out. I wonder what their plans are."

"See that younger woman and the older gentleman? Do you think anything's going on there?"

"That box down there says 'fizzy lizzy!'" (Then she winked at me. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about)

"Oh look, a lot of Japanese men went into that restaurant. That usually means it's good."

Me: Noni, you see that? That's NBC Studios.
Noni: I had a great day.
Me: Are you drunk?

"I've never seen so many black people at a show before! What's this play called again?" (At Fela, the musical)

"What are those, car parts? Who decided this was art? I just don't get it." (At Dia: Beacon)

"So Jenny went away for the weekend with Nicky's boyfriend, but Nicky didn't go with them? Well isn't that funny." (She loves Jenny)

"Take the subway alone? I don't think so! What if someone sees a nice old lady by herself and thinks 'Maybe I'll get some money for kidnapping her?'"

"Everyone remembers you! It's because you're so pretty." (At Blue Hill, well she got that one right, thanks grandma)

Friday, June 11, 2010

My Problem With Milk

My family drinks a lot of milk. At any given time, there is at least one and a half gallons of milk in my parent's refrigerator. We drank milk at every meal, whether that shit was fillet mignon or McDonald's. I would come home from soccer practice and chug milk like it was water. Gross.

When I was 18 and moved out, my milk drinking habit got kicked real quick, once I realized that milk costs money and water is free, so it's rare that I purchase milk at all. I also rarely cook, but about every two weeks, I decide it's good and time for some Kraft mac n cheese, so I stroll to the bodega and pick up a half carton (pint? I understand little about liquid measurements) and then get home and realize I only need like 1/4 of a cup to make the whole box. Then I'm all what the eff am I gonna do with the rest of this milk, I won't remember to drink it but I feel bad pouring it out because that's just wasteful and next thing I know a month has gone by and it's not so much milk anymore as cottage cheese. And that is my problem with milk; what to do with it at that half liquid/half solid state. Dumping it down the drain is out, because that will smell so bad it will probably make me barf and I can't throw it in the trash, for fear of the bag breaking all over my kitchen floor or in my hallway, too horrifying to think about. So the milk kind of lives indefinitely in this fridge limbo.

Last night Andrew was over and while getting a beer out of my fridge, noted the four or so cartons of milk chilling out in there. He pulled one out, with an expiration date of about two months ago and asked me why I had so much expired milk hanging around, which made me think of my milk  problem. Since this was a fairly new recruit, I told Andrew I'd give him $5 to take one gulp, which he turned down. Mind you I had just cooked him dinner and he was drinking my PBRs so you'd think at that point he owed me, right? Wrong, he said it would take TWO HUNDRED dollars to get him to take a sip! How did I end up with such bourgeois friends. Throw me a solid twenty; boom.

*UPDATE* Andrew's retaliation:
i am a high roller. i get paid. and when i'm not getting paid, i'm getting paid. understand? i've made money, and i was left money. i don't take any kind of sips of expired milk – i don't even think about or utter the words "expired milk" – for less than $1000. the $200 was an ENORMOUS friend discount. it was a sign or respect and gratitude for your hospitality. just to reiterate: i get paid. i'm worth buttloads. literally buttloads. do you think those little t-shirts with the holes come cheap? they absolutely do not. why do you think i'm napping all the time? because it's fucking exhausting thinking about how to manage my money, how to keep it safe and diversified, how to keep the vultures (read: jews and women) away from my money, and coming up with brilliant skeems to make more money, MORE MONEY, MORE MONEY.
that is who i am. 

$

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Mom Hair

Oh, right. We have a blog! Been awhile, but it's Summertime and important things beckon, such as shooting blowdart guns, running through sprinklers, and sexting like teenagers.

Anywho, over Memorial Day weekend, Chris, Nicky & I were out in Long Island swimming around in the pool and I started thinking about a lady mystery I have yet to solve: Why don't Moms ever get their hair wet in the pool? Other than after a shower, I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen my Mom's hair wet. We belonged to the community pool growing up and I remember me & my brother jumping off the diving board or Dad's shoulders and our Mom would be hanging out by the side with the other Moms doing that mom-kick thing, or kind of float around doing that breast-stroke/dog-paddle mom-swim whilst yelling "DON'T SPLASH ME!!" No tea parties, no underwater breath-holding contests, no fish out of water games. And chicken fights? Don't even ask.

I figured this was just some leftover shit from the fifties that women have no good reason to continue doing, like wear pantyhose or raise their children themselves, but then I saw what a friend from high school had posted as her status on facebook:

Great day with mom-mom and Uncle Mikey! Who I love, even though he just had to get my hair wet in the pool! ugh...

Chick's only been a Mom for like six months! Then check out her friend's (also a Mom) comment on it:

haha, we went to the pool today and i made sure not to get my hair wet as well :)

The fuck is going on here, is this some kind of conspiracy?? Everyone knows that when you become a Mom, you go a little crazy for some reason. I thought it might be the realization that pushing a bun out of your oven earned your ladyparts Hotdog Down Hallway status, but you know what, my brother and I were both c-sections and our Mom is still crazy as a loon so who knows.

What I DO know is that when I have a kid (c-section, I care not for hallway dogs) first thing I'ma do is hand it off to the nearest non-pedophile and run and do the biggest motherfucking cannonball you ever saw.


Thursday, June 3, 2010

Musings on Interns

Recently I've had a "fascination," if you will, with a few of my male interns. They're hot, they're obsessed with skateboarding, and they're both 23. Each of those on their own is already a boner, but all 3 together in not one but TWO boys?! Boner bomb. Ka. Boom.

Anyway I've been going out of my way to be "nice" to these guys at work. And by nice, I mean actually talking to them. I'm an older, obviously powerful woman, but I want them to think I'm just one of the guys, nah mean? So we smoke lots of cigarettes and talk about shooting guns and how rad Omar Salazar is. Some people might say I am not unlike a 23 year-old dude myself.

But so then this past weekend I had a chance to not only hang out with them at a party (getting drunk together, hello!) but to also invite them to my house. It was crazy. Crazy awesome! They came over and got to see how pretty and grown-up my house is. Point for Shannie. I had also just cooked dinner for some people so they got to see my culinary skills. Another point for Shannie. Then I smoked them out and we drank beers. Endless points for Shannie! I am clearly the perfect cougar girlfriend, am I not?

Cut to a few hours later at the party where I was 90% black out drunk. I ended up wrestling and putting one of the cute interns in a headlock. Clearly, I can not handle the younger mens.

So! I have since changed my tune on hot males interns. While it's totally enticing to think about being the older lady girlfriend who buys them fancy things (like weed), cooks them yummy meals, and takes them to all the cool parties, I'm just not cut out for it. In the end I will get wasted and treat them like my little brother. My new plan is to find a 30-35 year old rapper who can provide for me, and not the other way around. Lloyd Banks and Juelz Santana know what I'm talking about.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Ssssecrets (Boner Edition)

The other day, Gandy and I were discussing dudes we want to bone, but don't want to admit to. Ssssecrets! Here goes:

Pauly Shore. Sure he probs only comes up to my boobs and hasn't done anything worthwhile since "Biodome" but know what? That movie fucking rules. As does "Encino Man" and "Son In Law." You would think the picture below would be enough to change my mind about wanting to do him. And you'd be wrong.


Jay from Degrassi. Woops! A Canadian, "bad boy," high school kid? Somewhere up in them three wrongs, a right got made. Me-ow.


The guy who was the last "Bachelor."  Don't ask me how I know who that is, I just know, and guess what? Dude be fine. And probably loaded. And I'm still too lazy to look  up his name.
Not that I would ever consider going on a show like this, as I am better suited to reality shows involving feats accomplished while blacked-out or amount of tacos eaten in one sitting, but I gots no qualms with being his side piece.


Then Gandy pulled such a good one out of the woodwork; Brian Austin Green. My response: "Totally." And now, get ready for a Ssssecret WITHIN a Ssssecret; I have never watched 90210! Not sure where I was during the entire run of this show, but fuck, I have never even seen a whole episode. But oh shit, get ready for a TRIPLE DOG SSSSECRET; I have watched the new 90210. I can barely type right now since I am so busy hanging my head in shame, but what can I say, Gossip Girl has made me its bitch for all shows CW.  And the ship has long since sailed on watching the original, that's like trying to convince a kid to ditch his Wiimote and play some Pong on Atari with you - not gonna happen. So let's all just take a moment of silence and give Brian Austin Green the secret boner salute he deserves.

Bonerkiller of the Day

Shirtless dudes. It's finally Summertime, wheeeeeee! Summer is great. This Winter made me want to punch my face in the face, but boy do I love Summer! BBQ's and swimming and the beach and bikes and watermelon and hammocks mushrooms and too hot for pants (okay, those last two are year-round)!!

But Summer has its downsides, the first which I have already experienced; shirtless dudes. Seeing as I live in New York and there's not much farmwork and everyone's pasty as Casper, there are few situations I feel dudes should be going shirtless in the city, which I have narrowed down for you as follows:

1. Pre and/or post-bone. I'm not saying full nakeyness is a getting busy requirement, maybe there's no time or maybe you're lazy like me and remember the first rule of Sexy Physics; what comes off must eventually go back on again and so therefore remove as little clothing as possible, but this is a shirtless get out of jail free card.

2. Within 100 yards of a body of water. Even if they don't end up actually going in, it at least gives the illusion they might, which is comforting. Beaches, lakes, pools, waterparks, boats, even a fire hydrant I will give the green light to, but the dude who romped around the park in Brooklyn a few weeks ago, shirtless & barefoot, doing handstands and playing with one of those "Foxtails" made by "Klutz" for FOUR HOURS? No. Times infinity. No takebacks.

3. You're under ten years old. Hot. KIDDING! That's not even "Twilight" age, gross.

4. You're Tracy Morgan!

But if you are a man and happen to find yourself shirtless in a scenario not listed above, it most likely means you are one of the following:

1. A Crazy hobo (Not as hot as it sounds, also the inspiration for this post).
2. A longboard owner.
3. A gay man on Grndr (Is taking a self-portrait with your cell phone camera in the bathroom mirror a required in order to join this jam? It must be).