CharlieToddLikesMe: there is a picture of you in a dolphin suit hanging in an art gallery for a month starting tomorrow
Archive for February, 2007
Sussy, and 25 of our friends (Purns, Conz, the whole gang), are currently in line to get into a taping of The Price Is Right. It was a planned journey west as a way to bid farewell to Bob Barker.
And to win a crib and some jet skis.
Sussy has been sending me some photos of her fellow contestants who are with her in line.
Why does Paris always wear these fugly old lady shoes? She has about 50584 pairs in a variety of colors, and my guess is that the square toe makes her size 11 hooves look smaller. But they are about the fugliest thing around. 8 million old ladies are buried in those things each year. I mean really, Paris. Can’t you get plastic surgery on your feet or something?
Everytime I watch My Super Sweet Sixteen I wish for rocks to fall on the heads of the birthday girls, dream up horrible STDs to infest their golden Chanel-ladden vaginas and pray that they find some sort of horrifying end, maybe trapped in a well somewhere with only a Dodge Neon to rescue them. Spoiled bitches with a little too much baby fat from all those Wendy’s Frosties they sneak.
I hate them so much, which is why I TiVo every tormentuous minute of their show.
So needless to say I was overjoyed to learn that when some plump pops went to town on a lavish birthday celebration for his cow-daughter Ariel (ugh, name-vomit), all the people he screwed over on bogus oil deals took notice, and now his ass is in trouble, as is Ariel’s new BMW/Range Rover/Jaguar/Mercedes/Hummer.
Ariel, is quoted on the show as saying, “My dad owns his own oil company. He has oil wells all over the world. I love oil. Oil means shoes and cars and purses…So it sets me apart from everybody else in this town. . . . It smells like money, Daddy!”
Now the only oil Ariel will love is the stuff she pumps from the tiny blackheads on her face. Good luck affording some Proactiv, Ariel!
After my mom’s cancer diagnosis, I began spending a lot of time moving back and forth between New York and Boston on the bus or train. Mostly the bus. And since this time was often spent pressed against a cold window and a college kid/old lady/convict on the run, I turned to podcasts to rescue me for the 4+ hours.
I have a couple of PCs of choice. On Point With Tom Ashbrook – my dad’s NPR fave – is an awesome talk show with high caliber guests and lively discussion, most often on Iraq. A bloody war we’re never going to get out of! Party time.
Then of course, there’s my radio BFF Ira Glass. Now, I know every hipster d-bag like myself listens to This American Life. There’s a reason for this – it’s the bee’s fuckin’ knees. And finally, they’ve come to save the world with their tv show. I’m a little scared as I don’t have Showtime, so I’m not sure how to handle this situation.
The best part is that my main homie Charlie and Improv Everywhere are featured on the show. All those people doing jumping jacks in the DSW Shoe Warehouse? Yeah!
I haven’t seen my boyfriend or my cat in over three weeks.
Aside from that major shot of cat vag, aren’t we cute?
I should really stop slouching.
I’ll shut up now.
Why is it that I am addicted to every song Fergie has released off her album The Dutchess? I really expected better from myself. I thought I had some taste, but I can’t get enough of her.
I’m listening to “Glamorous” on repeat…while writing. Shouldn’t I have on some Elliott Smith or The Knife or something that will make me look and feel cool? This music makes me want to go on a shopping spree at Delia’s, and I like it!
(But what is “the flossy flossy”? Someone hip, educate me!)
Ya’ll caught me in costume! No I’m not batshit crazy, I’m just auditioning for an off off off off off off Broadway remake of Sixteen Candles! I wanna be the pretty popular girlfriend of Jake Ryan who feeds birth control pills to Anthony Michael Hall! Jake Ryan is so hot ya’ll. He probably is sensitive and doesn’t mind baldies. He liked that redhaired girl and she didn’t even have any boobs and wore that straw hat the whole time. I’d just snort some meth off his dick and he’d definitely be into me. Did I just say that out loud? I was just kidding! Did I really say that out loud? Oh. Hot dogs taste funny ya’ll!
Ya’ll isn’t it weird how good socks feel? It’s like all warm and soft on my feet, like I’m running through a field of cotton balls. Isn’t it amazing that cotton balls actually grow out of plants? I’m from the South ya’ll and we have fields and fields of cotton balls. Hurricane Katrina destroyed all our cotton balls fields and that’s just not fair. At least New Orleans is all better!
Ya’ll you should really try my new perfume Fantasy. It smells like tiger juice and the stuff they wash the bathroom floor with at Hyde. I love that smell! I was all drunk out of my mind on amaretto sours and laid down on that bathroom floor and was just rolling around sniffing and decided THIS was gonna be my new parfum. Also tigers are sexy!
Check out these new lyrics I wrote in my notebook for my new album:
A B C D E F G-
What? Oh, it’s not? Oh. Ha ha ha! I was jokin’ again! Sigh. Okay we’ll I’m just gonna go eat my giant turkey leg that I bought at that pet store on the corner and go to bed. Yeah – Can you believe pet stores sell turkey legs!? I wonder why it keeps wiggling around?
I was trolling my fave blog BestWeekEver and noticed that they had a Britney video up that was similar to one I made a couple of months ago – well, similar in that it was about Britney and used Boyz II Mens uber-hit, “It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye”. So kind-of alike.
This could only mean one thing – someone over at BWE is my pop culture soul mate. Who are you? We are so in sync, it’s tearin’ up my heart (get it, pop culture BFF?)!
We should make video magic together! Pairing cheesey jams with pictures of Nicole Richie’s ankles and MaryKate’s chicken neck will be our speciality! There is an Emmy within our reach!
PS: Here is a present for you:
All those horrible Sheryl Crow commercials, where she rapes “Not Fade Away” and turns it into a song about fucking hair color not fading away, has made me think of good old Jerry.
First of all, Sheryl Crow and Revlon are the devils. “Not Fade Away” is one of the most covered songs of all time, written by Buddy Holly and beloved by Grateful Dead fans as one of the Dead’s most played songs. It is at home on many a wonderful Dead bootleg.
Look, if Sheryl Crow recorded herself burping and put some acoustic guitar behind it, it would be better than all her bland shitty songs combined. I’m sorry she had to go through breast cancer, and okay – she has done some good environmental and social activism, but aside from that I have no love for this woman.
I’ll take my angry hippie rants elsewhere in a minute.
Back to Jerry Garcia, the most loveable dead man in the world (sorry Martin Luther King, you’re second). I hope heaven is one big Jerry Garcia concert.
If you want to listen to some classic Jerry, here it is on the web. This was one of my favorite bootleg tapes and I’m now searching for a good quality copy online or on cd.
By the way, I am an asshole for having Jessica Simpson’s “Private Affair” follow Jerry Garcia on my iTunes. I hate myself.