Wednesday, November 29, 2006

this post demonstrates how entirely unambitious i am on an average wednesday.

i can get bored. very, very, life-force-suckingly bored. you can only check dlisted so many times a day, you know, for even the most vapid news and photos. i started going through the onion's av club archives earlier (inspired by the homeless guy who tried to sell me a copy of the onion for a dollar today - sorry, dude, i understand how streetwise is a logical item to buy from you, but i can go to the onion's green plastic box and pick up my own copy for free). they have a great "ask the av club" section where people write in with random "what was that show i loved as a kid?" questions, like that 80s tv show with the girl who could stop time because her dad is an alien who she communicates with via a glass candy dish (that would be out of this world, and burt reynolds voiced her dad).
i got super excited when someone asked about a made-for-tv movie from the 80s about a girl whose siblings tie her shoelaces together as a prank, and when they get into a car accident she is trapped inside the car, which explodes. i have thought about that movie, no shit, on an at least bi-monthly basis for the past twenty-plus years, remembering not its name, stars or context, but remembering a scene where a little girl severs a house's electric wiring with a pizza cutter. it was quite terrifying (to me when i was seven). i have looked for it on imdb to no avail, probably because i always thought that the little girl from poltergeist who died mysteriously when she was 12 was its star.

but now i know: it's called don't go to sleep, it starred valerie harper and ruth gordon, and it's probably not scary at all but my desire to see it again has increased like 643 times. not available on netflix. since christmas is coming up, i'll add this to the list of things-i-want-that-i-wont-get.

now if only i could figure out - and find on dvd - the name of the made-for-network-tv mini-series i saw in the second grade about world war ii, hitler, the secret service, and concentration camps. one scene that is forever seared into my brain is when a man in a suit tries to walk past some secret service agents at some sort of check-point, and they rip his sleeve to reveal his number tattoo and they knock him down in a spray of bullets as he starts running from them. this was quality entertainment for a seven-year-old. i distinctly remember not wanting to take the garbage out because i was scared that there were nazis in the garage.

also: anyone remember amazing stories? i remember it as being an awesome series, but part of me tends to lean toward believeing that, now that i am an adult, it's total crap.

Monday, November 27, 2006

the saddest story ever told.

i want a cat. an orange cat. named floyd. i have wanted a cat for years. i had a cat growing up named oliver, and i loved him. he was white with orange spots and an orange-and-white-striped tail, and he was fat and lazy and sweet. since i have moved out of my parents' house 11 years ago, i have lived in dorm rooms, shared houses, and apartments - 14 in all, and none of them but the one i live in now allowed pets. oliver died when i was living in dorm room number 5. i will never forgive my college boyfriend for how utterly unsympathetic he was when oliver died. here is a transcript:

2:45 am. i have just returned from working at the bar. my boyfriend is asleep. i see four new messages on my answering machine but i am a very good girlfriend and don't listen to them so that i don't disturb him. my phone rings. it's my mom.
me: who died?
mom: it was oliver . . .
i start crying. my boyfriend shifts in bed. from the context of the conversation - "he died at the vet's office?" and "are you going to bury him in the backyard?" - it is probably pretty clear that i am talking about my cat and not, say, my father. but i am crying, and my boyfriend is tossing and turning. i am pissed that he does not get out of bed, sit next to me and hold my hand, even look at me. when i hang up i am still sniffling.
him: would you mind turning off the light?
me: oh. i am SO FUCKING SORRY to inconvenience you.
he sits up.
him: look, i'm sorry that oscar died or whatever, but you don't need to take it out on me.
me: OLIVER. his name is OLIVER. get the fuck out of my room. right now.
him: are you kidding?
me: GET OUT.
he does, with a very confused look on his face.
when we broke up a year later, i told him that i never forgave him for when my cat died, and he said "i know."

so now i finally live alone, in the apartment i have always wanted, and i have the boyfriend i have always wanted, and i decided that it is time to get the cat that i have always wanted. pos and i went and saw for your consideration (ehhh. i'd give it a C+. didn't love it) and to dinner last night with eb and sf, and they told us that they had just been at the petsmart down the street and they saw a couple of orange cats (possible floyds) that the anti-cruelty society is trying to find homes for. i got really excited and we went to check them out.

one cat was over 10 years old and gigantic - his name was mason, he looked like a feral bobcat, and he was awesome, although maybe a little scary. the card hanging on his cage said that his owner had to be moved to a retirement facility and that he wasn't good with children. pos said that his card failed to mention that he had eaten his elderly owner's face off, and that the retirement facility was the morgue.

i got to play with two cats - one was an orange cat named peaches who was small and sweet and purred a lot. the other had gorgeous shiny black-and-gray-striped fur and was kinda fat and playful - very awesome. his name was simpson. all of these cats have to be renamed.

the best thing about simpson was his pretty emerald eyes - which were crossed. for real. you couldn't look him in the face without laughing at how ridiculous he looked. the petsmart guy was really fond of him (his card said "this cross-eyed cutie needs a loving home!") and i could tell that he wanted me to like simpson, because most normal people would want the sweet little orange kitty over the retarded-looking cross-eyed one. of course simpson is the one that everyone insisted that i had to get, and i agreed. on the walk to the car we talked about what i could rename him - i jokingly suggested radio - and i was looking forward to the anti-cruelty society calling me about my application, which was actually pretty time-consuming, as it wanted my landlord's number (to make sure i can actually have a cat), asked me what i would do if my cat kept me up all night (eb told me that the correct answer was to play with and exercise my cat at night so that it would be tired), and wanted to know if i would have it declawed (the correct, anti-cruel answer would be no). they even wanted to know what times i would be available for a house visit to ensure that my cat was in a safe environment. i doubt that prospective foster parents for real live children have to fill out such a long application.

at home i realized that my left eye was really itchy and that my chin felt funny - kinda swollen. i was wearing a v-neck sweater, and the skin that was exposed when i carried the cats around was red and splotchy. then white bumps and weird raised lines rose up.

long story short: i want a cat, and i am now allergic to them. what a pisser.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

i love the mozzer

i have an ever-shrinking list of bands and musicians whom i have never seen in concert and really want to. other than people who are dead (kurt cobain, the beatles, jeff buckley, otis redding) and bands that are most likely to never reunite (the smiths), my list is getting short. radiohead. david gray. U2. ummmm . . . hmmm. i know that there are more, there must be, but those are the three that i most want to see.

i most likely wont ever get to see the smiths, but i had the next-best thing last night, as i saw morrissey play his only US tour date at the aragon. i love him; not the way that some people (like the flower-carrying girl in all black who was trying to talk her way past security last night before the show) worship him, but i do really love him. i was not disappointed at all. he looked gorgeous for pushing 50 (he took his shirt off and threw it into the audience before the encore, thus probably giving some arm cutter a new reason to live), he sounded great, and his band - six guys in matching vests and ties - were awesome. i don't have a lot of his new albums (he called ringleader of the tormentors "triple-platinum" - he was kidding) but he played a lot of old solo stuff and some rad old smiths songs - "panic," "girlfriend in a coma," "how soon is now," "every day is like sunday," "disappointed." i really wanted to hear "suedehead" (favorite morrissey song) or "stop me if you think that you've heard this one before," but the encore was "please please please let me get what i want this time," which is gorgeous and perfect. he changed the words to "let me get who i want/lord knows it would be the first time." loved it.

i drank a few beers and was so happy to be there with pos, and said all sorts of mushy shit to him, and he was like "did you eat dinner?" - meaning "are you drunk?" it was cute.

by the way, the opening act, kristeen young, was this horrible, loud, shrieky kate-bush-esque creepy girl on a keyboard with a drummer. ick.

read the sun-times review here.

also, i am fascinated by the fact that morrissey has a very strong and devoted mexican-american fan base, and i saw a large number of latinos at the show. chuck klosterman wrote a great article called "viva morrissey!" for spin that was later reprinted in a da capo best music writing anthology. i can't find the article anywhere online, other than the opening paragraph:

"People feel nervous around Cruz Rubio. That's unfair, but it's true. He looks like a badass: Dude is twenty years old, he's from East Los Angeles, the sleeves are ripped off his flannel shirt, and he looks like an extra from the movie Colors. I have no doubt whatsoever that he could kick the shit out of me on principle. But I am not nervous around Cruz Rubio. I am not nervous, because he is telling me how Morrissey makes him weep.

"'Some nights I lay in my bedroom and I listen to 'There Is a Light That Never Goes Out,' and I cry,' he tells me. 'I cry and cry and cry. I cry like a little bitch, man.'"

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

i find the smoking gun's mugshots collection to be inspiring.

i don't have any tattoos. for years i was sort of planning on getting a question mark tattooed onto the knuckle of my big toe on the right foot, but this never happened, and i am in no serious rush to get it; in fact, i probably never will, and that's just fine. my mom has always had a big problem with tattoos - she hates them, and once said to me, for real, "if you ever get either an abortion or a tattoo, i never want to hear about it." that's how much she hates them, and yes, she really did equate the two (guess what, she really hates abortions, too).

pos has two tattoos, one on each calf, and i told him that he is going to have to keep those hidden from my mom so that she will continue to love him as much as she does. pos came home with me this weekend. i think my dad said more to him in the 20 hours that we were at their house than he has said to me all year - it was quite remarkable to listen to him talk and talk. so pos passed the parent test. i knew he would. he's just going to have to never do this or this to his face.

i've posted this before but it never gets old: photo collection of really bad tattoos. holy shit! they have added a fourth page and someone has a fucking chris burke, aka "corky" from life goes on, portrait tattooed onto their body! insert requisite "how retarded" comment here.

oj, kramer and polygamists: all assholes

that oj bullshit interview and book, about how he killed his ex-wife and her friend because he's a classic wife-beater "if i can't have you no one will" brutal savage motherfucker and can pretty much say anything he wants now because he was acquitted and can't be retried, was cancelled. well, good. and now he needs to do everyone - including his children - a favor and kill himself.

i don't have much to say about michael richard/ kramer's insane diatribe and limp apology, other than that, once again, i don't understand how you can say "even though i said all that shit, i'm not a racist." i don't believe mel gibson, those frat boy losers who are suing over the statements that they made on camera in borat, or this loser when they all say that "normally, under regular circumstances, like when i am sober or not angry or not on camera, i would NEVER say things like that. i'm not a racist or anything." well, douchebags, you are. admit it. and get help. or make things easier on everyone and call oj and set up a suicide pact.

utah is working to decriminalize polygamy. they're trying to reframe it like it's gay marriage - something that consenting adults who want to marry one another should be able to do. um. well. i guess, if that's what you really wanna do . . . but ewww. NO. they're still going after the child rapers and freaks, like the Kingston family, which is "seven brothers accused of incest who are thought to have fathered more than 600 children." i've seen big love and i doubt that most polygamists look like the cast of that show. or have any money.

this headline made me happy . . . until i read the article and see that bloggers can post stuff that other people said, but are not immune to being sued for libel for stuff that they write. whatevs. all of my opinions on who is a douchebag and who is awesome are all quite factual.

Friday, November 17, 2006

so. gd. bored.

it's friday and i am bored. please note that the time stamp of when i post can easily be changed, so i could HYPO-THETICALLY be blogging at work and then saying that i posted at 8:30 pm. it would, technically, be possible. so please don't read "it's friday and i'm bored" and look down and see that i posted this at 8:30 pm and feel bad for me because i clearly don't have anything to do on a friday night; feel bad for me because i have to sit in a cubicle with 15 minutes' worth of work to stretch out into eight and a half hours. hypothetically speaking.

two little punk rock snippets for ya:

the wapo reports on the dc "capitol of punk" text tour, which i am totally going to do next time i'm there. you can also watch the video here.

iggy pop's tour rider is hysterical. it's totally stream-of-conciousness and funny.


more later. perhaps. must figure out what i can do for the next three hours.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

just some stuff for you to read

there are few people i hate more than oj simpson. dude is a straight-up psycho.

mc sent me this blog, which i thought was high-larious. i happen to like horses in general, but i like assholeness sometimes even more.

a lot of my (dork) friends take part in fantasy sports leagues. i will never forget the amazing meeting of the minds that took place in my front room in 2003, when ecf and rb had a bunch of people over to draft their fantasy basketball teams - there was a long sheet of paper that jh stole from his students' art room hung on the wall so that they could properly write in their picks, and it stayed up for a while. what's even MORE dorky? ds sent me this - it's a fantasy CONGRESS league. damn. even when i really did live in dc, and would go to receptions for the free wine and so i could see politicians i admire speak, i would never have participated in this.

remember how i posted not too long ago about how much i hated having to look for clothes at wal-mart? well, this beats that. at least the $7 shoes weren't fashioned after NAZI GEAR. christ! could i POSSIBLY find wal-mart any more distasteful? the link is from the consumerist, a website that i had not been familiar with but now think is pretty awesome.

the new johnny cash video: awesome song. still torn on whether it's a great concept (it's supposed to be a part of the whole africa "red" campaign) or it's an appalling cred-builder for losers. wtf with some of the people who randomly show up?

technically, angry young men are not funny. but they are when they post on craig's list - especially when the topic is "to the women who work in my office . . . i hate you." my favorite part: "Blonde woman who works for accounting- I know that you are 30, not 25 and I also know that at the Christmas party last year you had sex with the bosses son in the broom closet and that he got you pregnant. Please don’t insult me in front of our coworkers again or I will tell everyone."

the ny times interviewed christopher guest!

denmark pays for its indie bands to tour america, thus acting as ambassadors!

my mom was right about dungeons and dragons being satanic and driving you to kill!

who was the better 80s rock band, R.E.M. or U2? i know how i feel about this huge moral quandary but i am not yet ready to discuss it.

david copperfield: insanely sexy, with the most useful skills, and his magic is so strong that he can FIGHT CRIME. swoooooon.

finally saw borat. of all of the things to note - and there are PLENTY - i think that my favorite line was "he's a real chocolate face - not makeup!"

Monday, November 13, 2006

tasted better than lucky charms, smelled better than irish spring.

jc and tc have a blog now. it's called "les misc" and is about miscellaneousness, which is usually what their lives are all about anyway. they post from guest bloggers, and i have already taken them up on the offer (cloaked in a double-mysterious web of disguise and intrigue), and you should, too. check it every day:

also, i updated the dlisted link on the right because rm is too goddamned lazy to bookmark it and asked me to fix it.

ecf sent this on, noting that "sometimes hippies get it right." as the website states, "This is the First Annual Winter Solstice Synchronized Global Orgasm for Peace, leading up to Winter Solstice of 2012, when the Mayan Calendar ends with a new beginning." this would be the perfect night to host a cuddle party.

hey, fellow dorks: this star wars commercial from cinemax featuring coldplay's "fix you" is awesome. thanks to tb for the link. for the record, he has been geeking out on star wars for the entire almost-30 years that i have known him, and he shows no signs of ever letting up.

my friend ee is going to be a contestant on jeopardy! so awesome - she's flying out to LA the week after thanksgiving to tape, and i hope that she's out there for a long time and makes a shitload of cash and that she acts just like sean connery when he is a celebrity guest. the penis mightier.

am sent me this list of "the ten most disappointing rock n roll offspring," and i concur. i like the other top-ten lists that are linked at the bottom of the page, too.

pos and i wandered into some random corner shop near my apartment a few weeks ago so i could pick up some cigs. it is just like every other corner store - newsstand, cooler with drinks, dusty shelves full of food you wouldn't buy. but then we noticed that the candy shelf next to the register is full of stuff that you usually only find in the UK or at world market - coffee crisp, double decker, aero bars, yorkie (which the wrapper says is "not for girls!" - hahah, odd marketing ploy), and my favorite, violet crumble. also, the cooler is full of imported energy drinks and soda, and the shelves have lots of british digestives and biscuits. we looked in the freezer and they had bangers, irish brown bread and irish bacon. let me add that the owner of this store, a very nice man who sits at the register and is pleasant enough, is decidedly not from ireland - or anywhere near ireland. anyway, this was all very exciting for me, and we decided that instead of going to brunch as we do every sunday, we would actually cook. let me tell you, this was the best meal i have had in forever. i am a huge fan of breakfast, and i only like to eat meat when it's served up with eggs and toast. pos cooked the bangers and bacon and i made the eggs and tea. we didn't bother with the tomatoes and we didn't see any black and white pudding (which i looooove) at the store, so it technically wasn't as perfectly traditional as it could have been, but i hadn't had a breakfast that good since i was actually in ireland. check out how rad my little tea set is, which i actually got at meadows & byrne in galway, and get totally jealous over how muthafuckin delicious that all looks.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

more election results . . .

this is from my friend daniel sumrall, who ran for congress as a green . . . and scored about 3084 more votes than i know i would have. here is his website. i love the photo he uses, as he is pointing his rooker at someone, lecturing them, as he did on a regular basis to me at 3 am in a basement dorm room in 1997.

Hey Everybody

With all the 3rd district polling places reporting I have a final vote count. This year I succeeded in securing the party line and there will be a Green Party line on the ballot come 2008 for the US House of Representatives. This was the goal of the campaign.

Total we received 3089 votes for 1.5%. Here in New Haven we earned the most votes out of all Green candidates (including the Green candidate for Governor and US Senate) with 689 (3%). Check out the details here.

Anywits. This was cool and having over 3000 people vote for you is fucking amazing. Everyone of you should run for something, because we're all smart, honest, and good looking. Well, you were all really cool and supportative--thank you.

Big thanks to everyone who contributed--send me your mailing addresses and I'll send you some campaign souvenirs

And Big thanks to Megan for designing the Sumrall for Congress logo

You all rock
Take care, be well & be safe

i am proud to be an american

today made me really happy.

also, check out the fantastic dan savage op-ed in the nyt about closeted freaks who get what they deserve. so awesome that an op-ed that he wrote is published the day that i find out that rick santorum is voted out. he may be out of the senate, but he will always be in the sheets.

let the mighty eagle soar, motherfuckers!

the cheese factor on this is sorta lame, but i likey anyway.

and just cuz it's funny: pos sent me this. i forgot that sarah silverman was in the way of the gun. she was credited, according to imdb, as "raving bitch." watch the volume - nsfw.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

full disclosure: i did not return the rad black and white 80s rubber bracelets from the lewisburg wal-mart jewelry dept.

i haven't posted the first ipod shuffle of the day song in . . . oh, forever. and this isn't today's first shuffle song but my current favorite - harvey danger's "little round mirrors." it's off of their album that they posted for free on their website last year and is still up. i never thought i would say this, as harvey danger is a band that i only have vague recollections of as being a mid-90s one-hit-wonder, but i highly recommend it - go get it here.

my favorite lyrics from the song: "a shooting star is/a little piece of/cosmic debris desperately wanting to fall to earth/it doesn't get too far/it's not a real star/it's hardly even worth footnotes in your memoir."

anyway, i get mildly obsessed with one song at a time and overplay it until i am sick of it and move on to the next one. i'll let you know what its replacement is when i figure that out.

i'm watching kingpin right now. bill murray rules.

saw lady sov last night with pos, jmk and jmk's totally trashed friend who was visiting from columbus, w. w was super friendly and nice. when i say "super friendly" i mean that he was telling pos within ten minutes of meeting him that he was a fine-looking man and that if he were gay he'd want him, and when i say "nice" i mean that he took quite a shine to me and told pos what a lucky lucky man he is. he didn't just say these things once or twice; like most shitfaced individuals, he made sure that his point was made repeatedly. he was actually really funny and bought us beer, so no harm. lady sov didn't start until 12:45 am or so, and the show was good, but the mic was turned down too low and a lot of the songs sounded too similar to one another. it was fun, though. she's rad.

you know what would suck? amnesia. they don't doubt this guy, like some people doubt the guy that the film unknown white male was about.

you know what else would suck? dying, and then people saying shitty things about you on your online memorial page.

reading this article about how wal-mart made the mistake of carrying clothes that are too trendy made me laugh. because when i was in west virginia this last week, and my bag didn't make it to lewisburg (i blame the layover in pittsburgh), and all i had were my jeans and skull shoes (which were just sorta okay for going to my business dinner the night before but were in no way appropriate for my day of meetings), i had to go to the 24-hour wal-mart to find a suitable outfit. i don't shop at wal-mart, and it's not only because their clothes are hideous (it's also the anti-union, anti-community, anti-living-wage thing). i was not happy about having to go to a ruralass wal-mart and spend an hour and a half buying things that i needed for the night (toothbrush, hair stuff, contacts case) and clothes for work when all of my own personal, perfect items were somewhere in transit to roanoke (to then be driven an hour and a half to lewisburg to be delivered to my hotel before 8 am, which i seriously doubted was going to happen). so i went to wal-mart, and i tried on, oh, i don't know, like seven different pants and skirts with about a dozen shirts that looked vaguely professional, and they were all so poorly-made and the fabric was so gross i was mortified with the prospect of having to be in public wearing them, much less on a site visit where i would meet lots of new people and represent my company. i settled on a pair of (too short - i'm a tall girl) black pants and a lame button-down, and i grabbed some black trouser socks to alleviate the issue of my floodwaters, and i spent a solid half-hour looking at their terrible shoes, cursing my size 11 feet, before biting the bullet and selecting a horrible pair of black flats that cost, i shit you not, $7. i was t.h.r.i.l.l.e.d. when my suitcase actually made it at 6 am and i went back to the wal-mart to return everything. the customer service woman looked at my receipt, saw that i was returning bags and bags of things that i had purchased ten hours before and asked if there was a problem. i was like "not anymore!"

saw babel on friday. it was the perfect movie to end last week (i was super crabby all week), because it was long and depressing, and we had to sit in the fourth row, which i hate. the movie was good, very well-made and had fabulous acting, don't get me wrong, but it was the wrong pick. pos and i wanted to see borat but the theater was playing it on at least five screens and every show was sold out. i hadn't seen lines like that since lord of the rings or star wars. i was surprised; i mean, i know that i really want to see it, and all of my friends are excited for it, but i didn't expect it to be a blockbuster runaway hit. it's probably because borat is so crazy sexy plus nice, yes?