On the flip side....

Doesn't this smart number look all comfy cozy?

Stranger things have happened.

I'm beginning to covet accessories.

High quality, classic, expensive accessories.


Big Time!

Megadonuts! And More!

Did you see The Girls Next Door last night?

The Girls and Hef go to Renfaire. Turns out Bridget is a Renfaire devotee.

Hip Hip Huzzah!

Verily I doth add this link.


Huh? Or, ring my bell.

This morning I woke up and realized I had slept with my cell phone.


Love: A Useless Manual

There are people you love because you were borne to them, borne of them, familial. There are people you love because of familiarity, longevity. There are people you love because you care, you want to take care of them, they take care of you. There are people you love because they make you feel wonderful, happy, and full of laughter, for a moment, for a lifetime.

Then there are people you just love, completely.

I don't know how important the distinctions are. I just know them, all.


Sleep, schmeep

Is it me? Or am I becoming a major bummer? Please, let me know. Seriously.


The Hills: 2027

This is what I do rather than clean my bedroom. Sorry!

Lauren: Wears a lot of cardigans and skinny leggings. Manages a high-end art supply store in Century City specializes in expensive handmade recycled-paper goods. When happy couples come in to browse the wedding invitations, she mutters and scribbles furiously into a recycled-paper journal. Possesses deep eye wrinkles from squinting in contempt at happy and/or successful people. Constantly reapplies muted peach lipstick. Eyebrows still incongruously dark.

Spencer: Engaged to third wife Apple Paltrow-Martin following messy splits from Heidi and Rumer Willis. Successful producer of preteen slasher films. Hair-plug technology has improved in the past twenty years, fortunately.

Brody: Avoiding extradition in Switzerland. Operates a pro shop in a ski lodge. Gained thirty pounds on dark chocolate.

Heidi: In minimum-security prison for attempting to murder Lauren by setting fire to her fluffy white sectional sofa. We learn that her natural hair color is in fact platinum blonde. Writing a tell-all book.

Whitney: Editor of Vogue. Married Ashley Olson in a million-dollar fall ceremony in the Napa Valley. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.

Audrina: Moved to New York. Never heard from again.


Semisolid food, from back in the day

Anyone remember the Bisquick Impossible Pies?

http://www.recipegoldmine.com/pieimp/pieimp.html has a ton of them.

The awesomest one in my opinion is Zucchini Tomato Pie, great for using up garden excesses.

This was yummy and easy.

My brother claims no recollection of said Pie.


I plan to make one soon and watch the no crust magic happen! You should too! It's a hallmark of suburban garden summer.

Serve one at your next barbeque!


Bleagh....and wtf?

Yeah a copout title if there was any...but my stomach is basically inside-out and it's tough to concentrate.

I meant to report something bizarre that happened in therapy aka shrinkage Monday. I was talking about things (as I am wont to do when paying for someone's attention and mad therapeutic skillz) and when things got too serious, I found myself slowly passing out. For real. My eyes started fluttering, I slid down on the fairly-comfy armless sofa (chaise? shrink sled? Whatever), my back against the seat of the sofa and my legs on the floor, finally pulling my legs up in hazy defeat as my eyes slammed shut. I drifted in and out of 'sleep' mumbling occasional answers to my therapist's questions and muttering "Am I dying?" from time to time (since I was convinced that this wasn't just stress but actual death). When I arose from the sofa I was disoriented and frightened. She said I'd shake it off, and was unsurprised and unstressed about it (unlike me).

Then I went and had a couple of drinks and saw a show.


Here's an actual poo contest. Enjoy!

Hello? Hello?

Does anybody read this anymore?

On an unrelated note, may be a bad time to skip the antidepressants.

Here's a picture of a tapir:


Ain't no cure for the summertime ewwwws

Spotted on the walk to work this morning:

1. A woman in a smart tailored suit open at the next showing off an intricate array of subclavicular tattoos. (I'd like to think she was an attorney and it was the Bill of Rights or the 1934 Securities and Exchange Act.)

2. A shortish man in a neat grey suit, his briefcase and duffel bag on the ground next to him, shaking off and zipping up after peeing on a deli.

3. A woman in bright red surgical scrubs smoking extra-long cigarettes.

4. A woman in a black strapless cocktail dress, stiletto heels and a battered bouquest of flowers. Must've been a great night! She got flowers!

5. My purse strap creeping repeatedly across my right nipple for four crosstown blocks before I realized there were projection issues.


Yeah, whatevers.

I can't help it, I love Google Ads

I know they are creepy and targeted, but kind of loosely (which amuses me greatly). I know I am propagating their gently invasive advertising model by discussing it here (and reprinting links). But damn, they make me laugh a little.

Today's favorites:

The Palmpillow (which itself, has Google ads for other smallish travel pillows because it's free targeted advertising, thus effectively cannibalizing itself)

Modern Mountain Man's Big Agnes dual sleeping bag (both the website name and product line name amused me)

Dress Modest (for those who shun low necklines and muffin tops for G-d)

The Internets iz Fun!


F*****ing health insurance

Fuck it.

Petition for Independent Film Makers

While I'm not convinced these things work, people should be aware of what's going on here!

It was lovely.

From the draft script of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:"
You were down by the surf. I could just
make you out in the dark.

Joel looks down to the water. There's Clementine, in her
orange hooded sweatshirt, looking out to sea.

Your back to me. In that orange
sweatshirt I would come to know so well
and even hate eventually. At the time I
thought, how cool, an orange sweatshirt.

I remember being drawn to you even then.
I thought, I love this woman because
she's alone down there looking out at the
black ocean.

But I went back to my food. The next
thing I remember, I felt someone sitting
next to me and I saw the orange sleeve
out of the corner of my eye.

A shot of the orange sleeve. Joel looks up.

Hi there.


I was so nervous. What were you doing
there, I wondered. Your hair was lime
green. Green revolution.

A shot of her green hair.

You said...

I saw you sitting over here. By
yourself. I thought, thank God, someone
normal, who doesn't know how interact at
these things either.

Yeah. I don't ever know what to say.

I can't tell you how happy I am to hear
that. I mean, I don't mean I'm happy
you're uncomfortable, but, yknow... I'm
such a loser. Every time I come to a
party I tell myself I'm going to be
different and it's always exactly the
same and then I hate myself after for
being such a clod.

Even then I didn't believe you entirely.
I thought how could you be talking to me
if you couldn't talk to people?

But I thought, I don't know, I thought it
was cool that you were sensitive enough
to know what I was feeling and that you
were attracted to it.

But, I don't know, maybe we're the normal
ones, y'know? I mean, what kind of
people do well at this stuff?

And I just liked you so much.

You did? You liked me?

You know what I did.

Yeah, I know. I'm fishing.

You said --

She picks a drumstick off of Joel's plate.

I'm Clementine. Can I borrow a piece of
your chicken?

And you picked it out of my plate before
I could answer and it felt so intimate
like we were already lovers.

I remember --

The grease on your chin in the bonfire

Shot of a smudge of chicken grease on Clementine's chin.

Oh God, how horrid.

I'm Joel.

No, it was lovely.

Hi, Joel. So no jokes about my name?

You mean, like...
Oh, my darlin', oh, my darlin', oh, my
darlin', Clementine... ? Huckleberry
Hound? That sort of thing?

Yeah, like that.

Nope. No jokes. My favorite thing when
I was a kid was my Huckleberry Hound
doll. I think your name is magic.

She smiles.


Weird things that freak me out

1. People cracking knuckles or other joints.
2. Images of heads without faces.
3. Popping balloons.
4. The idea of creatures inside walls.
5. Crossing a large bridge on foot.

I'm sure there are more.

And if anyone wants to walk the Brooklyn Bridge with me, please drop me a line.