color really doesn't matter. needles are needles. they all freak me out. i grubbed this one from deviantart.
it's no joke. i'm suffering from a serious case of guitarthritis right now. one too many danzig riffs i think.
...as swiped from dooce.
let me just take a moment to explain the five fame fuckers list for those of you who don't already have one: if you're in a committed relationship, you're allowed to compile a list of five people you'd like to sleep with, but the people on the list not only have to be celebrities, they also have to be celebrities you don't know or wouldn't ever happen to bump into, even in the most remote social situation. to make things fair, the person you're in the committed relationship with gets to compile his/her own list. so, if you don't have one, please do us all a favor and get one. i'll just go ahead and tell you my list as of today, this moment, as i am writing this, is as follows, in no particular order:
it seems that the right wing hacks that run the "non-partisan" fox news network have gotten their claws into the urban dictionary. definitions for words like "obama bin laden" and "obama drama" are acceptable, but my addition to the dictionary has been denied. repeatedly. three times to be exact.
mccaincient - adj. - older than dirt and/or john mccain.i don't see anything wrong with it at all. damn you to hell rupert! Read more...
i'm not a big fan of needles, but i'm seeing them used a lot lately in art and photography. (and as beach toys if you live near avalon.) i must say, it freaks me out a bit. i found this one on google.
where do i go from here? the olympics are officially over. the official unofficial end of the summer is only one week away. and although summer isn't actually over until september 23, i can't wait for those first hints of the new season; the chilly breezes, the falling leaves, and of course nothing, and i mean nothing, says "fall is here" like a band of carnies.
and what follows a band of carnies? but a carnival of course. and what comes with a carnival? but some of the greasiest (and delicious) "food" to be had on the planet. whenever i even hear the word carnival, the first thing that pops into my mind is zeppoles. something that i recently realized is actually more like new jersey carnival food, as opposed to carnival food in general. i hope that you are one of the lucky ones to have ever experienced a zeppole.
and with that being said, there are few things in the universe more evil than carnival food. why do they feed us deep-fried sugary food before we get on rides that spin us around and around? why is it that carnies aren't all 500 lbs.? must be the meth. being the health nut that i am, (sarcasm completely implied), i found this list in newsweek and thought that i'd share. **note: zeppoles are not listed, making their deep fried doughy goodness and obviously healthy choice.
7. cotton candy- one large cone of spun sugar is 200 calories. it's practically health food. so ditch those carrot sticks and grab yourself some candy fiberglass![newsweek] Read more...
6. snow cones- the sugary syrup used is 100 calories an ounce. a 12 oz. snow cone will end up being 550 calories, depending on how syrup-heavy you take it. just remember fellas: blue tongues help you pick up chicks.
5. corn dogs- a.k.a the "nitratesicle" contains 375 calories and 21 grams of fat and 1170 mg of sodium. with all that salt, be sure to save your leftovers to de-ice your driveway. winter is just around the corner!
4. deep fried twinkie- one deep fried twinkie contains 420 calories and 32 grams of fat. that doesn't include any sugar or jelly topping. not bad when you think about it, considering a twinkie straight out of the pack has 419 calories and 31 grams of fat, and those are only half as delicious.
3. deep fried oreos- each cookie contains 157 calories and 10.1 grams of fat. really? seriously? honestly? do you care? me neither.
2. funnel cake- an 8.3 oz. cake contains 760 calories, 44 grams of fat, 80 grams of carbs and 20 mg. of cholesterol. that's no big deal, just make sure that next time you order a funnel cake, you tell the carny that you only want an 8.3 oz. funnel cake. i'm sure that they have a scale. and they can count to 8.3.
1. deep fried candy bars- everything from snickers, mars, milkyway and 3 musketeers is deep-fried and slapped on a stick. a king-size, deep-fried bar has over 700 calories and 44 grams of fat. but have you ever tried making one of those? it's a pain in the ass. so the calories of the "king size" are worth not having to clean up the disaster area in your kitchen. see folks? there's always a bright side.
ever heard a safe-sex promo sung in multipart harmony? have a listen to the "condom a cappella" ringtone. it was just launched in india, where approximately 2.5 million people are living with HIV; it's part of a three-year ad offensive aimed at making condom use there more socially acceptable. and it's actually quite catchy. and just a bit creepy if you ask me. but alas, i endure because of my love for odd a capella music.
listen to it in the snapshot HERE.
[condomcondom via crave]
NSFC - not suitable for church, or it just may be.
do your cups runneth over? just think, secretly guzzling from your gazongas means no more waiting in line for drinks at festivals, gigs, games, and that damn communion line. the polyurethane 'chicken cutlets' in "the wine rack" holds and entire bottle of wine, making even those long greek orthodox masses just fly by. try it just once and you'll never go a sunday without it.
[the winerack from firebox via geekadelphia]
well, maybe they don't actually work for the shithole that is walmart, but someone thought that i, me of all people, would fall for a fishing scam, being baited by friggin' walmart. i don't think so, but nice try.
that's a snap of the spam folder in my inbox. between 3:19 and 6:22 6:42 today i got spanked 13, wait, make that 15 times, with the same spam message about a $1000 walmart gift card.
15 times? i figured it must be serious. so i went to check it out. it turns out that it's my lucky day. i can get my $1000 shithole walmart gift card if i just follow these simple steps:
1- complete a 240(!?!?) question survey. (short answers, not multiple choice. from what i saw, most are about what type of toilet paper you prefer.)really? that's all? so let me get this straight, to get a "free" $1000 gift card, all i have to do is spend $400 on useless crap? what a fücking deal! keep fishin' you spammers, you ain't catchin' this guppy.
2- complete at least 6 of the 10 sponsor offers. (the cheapest of which costs $42 to "participate" in.)
3- "follow redemption instructions." (by "redemption instructions" they mean fill out an application requiring: full name, address, phone number, drivers license number, social security number, date of birth, work address, work phone number, work email address and three personal references with addresses, phone numbers and email addresses.)
Read more...
oddly enough, i came across this when i was trying to google a recipe for scallion pancakes.
in case you caught my twitter earlier, i was busy making a carrot cake. for absolutely no other reason other than the fact that my fat ass (mfa) wanted one. i felt odd "decorating" a cake that no one else was going to see, so to make myself feel better, i threw that crooked carrot on top and snapped a shot to share with all of you buttersweaters out there.
my friend lo sent me this recipe. i'm not sure if it's supposed to be super secret, but let me tell you this thing is worthy of an o face or two. it's doggone delicious, so i felt like i had to share. thanks lo!!!
3 c grated carrots (tightly packed)
2 c sugar
4 eggs, beaten
1 tsp salt
1 TBSP vanilla
1 c. chopped pecans (walnuts would work, too)
1½ c. oil
3 tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp nutmeg
½ tsp cloves
2 tsp baking soda
2 c flour
Mix dry ingredients, set aside.
Mix sugar, eggs, and oil. Add carrots. Slowly stir in dry ingredients. Fold in vanilla and nuts.
Bake in greased/floured pans at 325º for 35-40 minutes
(2 x 9" rounds, 3 x 8" rounds, or 9" x 13" rectangular pan)
Cool completely and frost with cream cheese frosting.
1 8oz pkg cream cheeseRead more...
¼ lb butter
1½ tsp vanilla
Pinch of salt
1 lb powdered sugar
*1 c finely chopped pecans, for garnish (optional)
Cream butter, cheese, vanilla, and salt. Slowly add sugar. For thicker frosting, add more sugar. For thinner add water or milk.
horses are the devil’s creatures. they lie, they whore, they talk trash behind your back. they snack on the innocence of young girls and shit where they please. horses are the very soul of corruption. this is a fact.
but horses are also drug addicts and filthy olympics cheaters. look:
"four horses have been banned from competing in the olympic games jumping competition for doping, the international equestrian federation (fei) announced thursday."that’s from a story you can find here. it goes on to explain:
"the horses - representing brazil, germany, ireland and norway - had been suspended after testing positive for a prohibited substance, the fei, which controls the sport, said in a statement."oh, horses! will they ever learn? dope is for dopes!
actually, i quadruple dog dare you to try and watch this without cringing. i couldn't do it. but between shrieks, i did enjoy the sounds of .38 special. peep this.
grab your pillow and a blanky, this one's gonna be a real snoozer.
the republican national committee has finally released its speaker line-up for the convention, which mccain spokesman rick davis says is designed "to showcase the 'diversity' of the republican party."
and by diverse they mean: rich, white and male. the line-up is 75% male and 86% white. now that's what i call "diversity." ZZZzzzZZzzZ...
GObama.
some music, like that of the jonas brothers, is better left unheard. some movies, like those starring tom cruise, are better left unseen. some jokes, like those told by jay leno, are best left unlaughed at. similarly, some books are better left unread. these 5 can be found cluttering the shelves of a bookstore near you. (do the world a favor and leave them there.)
in no particular order of suckiness:
I. behind the bell by dustin diamond
"my porn tape sucked or didn't(?) i don't know, but it wasn't good; and my career is over. so how about i dish dirt on all of my mildly more successful co-stars of a show that ended 15 years ago." good idea screech, you do that.II. i hope they serve beer in hell by tucker max
tucker max is a self-described king of douchebaggery. he drinks too much, fondles women, causes scenes and generally acts like that guy that no one ever wants to be around. but he's proud of it. so proud that he wrote a book about it. and word on the street is there's a movie is in the works too. tom cruise deserves to play this douchebag.III. through the storm: a real story of fame and family in a tabloid world by lynne spears
this book was originally titled "the lynne spears guide to fucking up your children," but for some reason they switched it up just before publication. too bad for them, they missed the perfect mother's day window for release. this book will no doubt prove instructive to any stage mother willing to milk her daughters for all they're worth, subsequently ignoring them when their pregnancies/mental breakdowns interfere with a novelty t-shirt sale at kitson.IV. life with my sister madonna by christopher ciccone & wendy leigh
nothing says "i'm tired of being a nobody and living in my sister's shadow" like an unauthorized biography/tell-all. this douche rivals tucker max in the royalty department. word in the valley is that he only wrote it as a bitch slap because guy ritchie doesn't like him because he's gay. get over it. write a book about your boring life you hack.V. fleeced: how barack obama, media mockery of terrorist threats, liberals who want to kill talk radio, the do-nothing congress, companies that help iran, and washington lobbyists for foreign governments are scamming us... and what to do about it by dick morris & eileen mcgann
the follow-up to, no joke, outrage: how illegal immigration, the united nations, congressional ripoffs, student loan overcharges, tobacco companies, trade protection, and drug companies are ripping us off... and what to do about it. and stay tuned for their next book, for which i even came up with a title for them- "passed out: what you are by the time you have read halfway through the title of any of our books, why books like this aren't covered under major bookstore return policies, and why you shouldn't care what we have to say because we are hacks... and what you can't do about it." eh? ehh? what a title!?! dickie, eileen, call me... i'll lease you the name rights.[snapped elements from defamer.com] Read more...
it's an oddly perfect day today, considering the ever spastic weather bug says 40% chance of rain. in fact, the sun is shining, it's a perfect 69°, and there's a light breeze blowing through the house. as i was just sitting here, sifting through the endless emails and blog posts, i caught a whiff of tomato-ey goodness. is there anything better than the smell of homegrown tomatoes on the vine? a smell you'd rarely, if ever, smell when buying your 'maters in the grocery store. the 'mater plants outside the kitchen window are teeming with green tomatoes; i fear the day when they start turning red, because there will be a gazillion of them. they couldn't possibly turn red a few at a time, instead they'll shoot from 0-60 in 3.5 seconds, and i'll have to made 160 gallons of salsa.
anyway, the purpose of this post is to add #101 to my '100 little things.'
101- i love the smell of vine-ripened tomatoes.Read more...
white hip-hop at it's finest.
"three point one four" by the bloodhound gang.
first there was dong dong. and much like the jesus bumper sticker incident, once i mentioned it, they seemed to appear everywhere. and so the top 100 list of names NOT to name your children is filling up fast during these olympic games.
oh, and let us not forget my ex, mi sook yoo.
ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you, owner of beijing's 'happy ending tours,' fun fun...
just one more reason why HE is UNSTOPPABLE.
Phelps' Gold a Dying Boys Wish
By Alan Abrahamson for NBCOlympics.com
It was late, after midnight, and a little boy lay asleep in his bed. Just 11 years old, he was a desperately sick boy. He did not, as it turned out, have many more days left to live.[nbcolympics] Read more...
It was late, and Michael Phelps' plane had been delayed, and so by the time he got to Stevie Hansen's bedroom, Stevie could not be roused. No matter. Michael sat there on Stevie's bed, holding Stevie's hand. Just talking, certain Stevie could hear him. For two hours. Maybe longer. No one remembers exactly.
The next morning, Stevie woke up and said to his mom, Betsy, "I wish I had woken up. But I know he was here."
Betsy Hansen sighed and said, "He was so thrilled."
A little more than a year has passed since that night, since Michael quietly paid tribute to the fighting spirit and the soulfulness of a little boy who, before cancer took over his body, had himself been a swimmer, too -- a boy who dreamed of one day being like his idol, Michael.
"He was an inspiration to me," Michael said Monday.
Michael Phelps is one of the greatest American athletes of his generation. At these Beijing Games, he won eight gold medals, the most ever at a single Olympics, topping the seven that Mark Spitz won in Munich in 1972.
His fame is staggering.
But it can be nearly impossible in our sound-bite culture to see Michael as he typically is away from the spotlight -- the genuineness about him, the profound and fundamental decency.
To be sure, Michael is not perfect. He is not a saint. He is still but 23 years old. He has made mistakes, and acknowledged them.
But in the relationship he forged with Stevie Hansen, and as time went on with Stevie's family, his parents Betsy and Steve and younger sister Grace, Michael's uncommon decency could not have been more evident, more profound.
Here was a life lesson as a life was slipping away -- what it means to be a real friend, and what real friends do for each other.
"He's a very giving person," Debbie Phelps, Michael's mother, said. "He has always wanted to give back and make people happy and make them -- give them a little piece of him, a piece of his heart. Because he has a great heart."
Betsy Hansen said Michael "bravely came into our lives" when doing so meant "he was himself going to feel some pain," adding, "It takes courage to embrace a family in that position. He did it.
"It wasn't to better his image in the community or in the world. He just reached out to a little boy who thought, 'You're a really cool swimmer, I've always wanted to meet you.' "
Stevie was only 7 when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, in October 2002.
Stevie was, even at that young, a promising age-group swimmer in Maryland, where Michael grew up and was training -- the Athens Olympics were still almost two years away.
As a 6-year-old, Stevie was already not only swimming but winning awards.
The day before surgery, Michael came over. He brought a flag, some shirts, a poster. They shot hoops in the driveway. They talked -- about how each of them loved junk food.
Michael sent balloons to the hospital. When Stevie woke up, his dad, Steve, recalls, he "just clutched the balloons, smiled and went back to sleep. It was like a lifeline: 'Michael cares.' "
Over the next year, Stevie seemed to get better. That next summer, Michael sent Stevie a note saying he wanted to come watch Stevie swim at a local meet. Which he did -- showing up unannounced.
"Stevie came over and said, 'Wow, you came!' And at a full run he leaped into Michael's arms," Steve said.
That afternoon, Michael watched from behind the blocks as Stevie raced in the free, the fly and a relay. Michael was coaxed into swimming a relay leg himself in a parents' and coaches' race -- even though he had to borrow a suit.
Michael and Stevie had lunch together. Michael signed autographs for all the other kids as well; he signed for Grace using a red Sharpie on her forehead. She calls Michael a "special friend."
That October, doctors found tumors on Stevie's spinal cord. He underwent another surgery; again, Michael "sent a big basket of stuff to the hospital," Steve said.
Stevie would, ultimately, undergo two more surgeries.
Michael would go to Athens, win eight Olympic medals, six gold, come home a star. He would move to Michigan, following his longtime mentor and coach, Bob Bowman, to train for the 2008 Games.
Still, Michael stayed in regular touch with Stevie, with Grace, with Steve and Betsy, and when, in April 2007, Betsy called Michael's mom, Debbie, to say, "We have a disaster here ... he wants to see Michael," Michael made it happen.
His plane was late. Bags were lost.
Still, Michael made it happen. He and Debbie showed up at the Hansen house well after midnight.
And stayed for two hours, maybe longer.
"Michael never dropped his hand," Betsy said. "It was so touching, so touching -- to see this big guy touched by the frailty of life, that Stevie wanted him."
Stevie had -- just like in the movies -- told his parents he wanted Michael to try to win an Olympic medal for him.
Even though Stevie wasn't awake to hear it, Michael made him that promise.
"I said I'd try to get a medal and hopefully it'd be a gold one," Michael recalled Monday.
Debbie was there that night, too, and when mother and son left the Hansens, stepping softly across the grass, wet with dew, it was hand in hand. "Death as we know it is not an easy thing to take as an adult, let alone a child," Debbie said.
The next day, Michael posted a note to Stevie's personal page on an Internet site for people confronting serious illnesses. It read, "Stevie, it was great to see you last night. I'm really glad I got to visit. You are very brave. You really are an inspiration to us all. Talk to you soon -- Michael."
Betsy responded with this post: "Yours was a gift," she wrote, "like none other."
Stevie passed away on May 29. The memorial service took place on June 4.
Michael came back to Baltimore for the service. He sent a "spectacular spray of purple flowers," Betsy said, adding, "Purple was Stevie's favorite color."
He stood with the Hansens as they greeted friends and family. "A wonderful, selfless display of caring," Betsy said.
"It was never about people knowing he did it," she said. "It never went out in the press that he was here. Never.
"No one ever knew the depth of the relationship between them."
Michael said Monday, "When he passed away, when we went to the funeral -- it was hard. It was an honor for me to have someone like him look up to me."
He paused and added, "I'm sure he's looking down on us and I'm sure he's cheering from above."
Grace Hansen watched from far away this week, back in Maryland, as Michael won those eight medals.
"I saw him swim every day," she said by telephone and then added in a remark about Michael the swimmer and Michael her friend, "He's really good."
yup, it's an iDo. (not the answer to your nuptials, but rather pronounced eye-dough, for my mildly retarded readers.) ha. well, technically it's called a "naughtinano" and it's made by, get this, OhMiBod.
it's a dildo/vibrator/dong. (i missed the last episode of talk sex with sue johanson when she explained the actual difference.) i do know that it's one of those. anyway, you plug it into your ipod and it pulses to the music! how exciting!?!? oprah thinks so.
have you ever seen the laser dance scene in ocean's 12? that song in the background of that scene, my guess is that's what oprah listens to on her iDo. here's that clip:
hannah montana AND miley cyrus all on one dvd? my dream hasn't come true! (that their career would be over after that kiddie porn photoshoot.) and isn't isn't that a double negative? hannah montana and miley cyrus? after all, it is the same obnoxious tween.
and as if it's not bad enough, to make this "extra special" dvd even specialer, the tone deaf jonas brothers make a special guest appearance. a bonus for mini-panty throwers everywhere!
as if dong dong wasn't bad enough. maybe it's as true as 'you are what you eat;' maybe your name really does determine your destiny.
from jezebel.com:
"Following an undercover operation, Colorado police this month broke up a prostitution operation running out of a massage parlor known as Tokyo Sauna. Broomfield Police Department officers arrested a 54-year-old woman on a prostitution charge and a 65-year-old male customer for patronizing a hooker." The woman who runs the brothel was charged with, um, being a madam. And the lady's name? Mi Sook Yoo. I know. Makes you really consider the ramifications of naming a child, doesn't it?
i know, i know, nearly a month with zero, count them zero posts and now what the hell is going on? i'll tell you, sometimes having a blog feels a bit like being in a middling relationship. when things are good, they’re really good. you want to spend every single day together, you blow off friends, you have no hobbies outside of that sweet, nuzzly “other” in your life, and really you don’t need anything else, because you have your one true love.
>>>fast forward two weeks.>>>
then when you lose interest and suddenly you have many other things to do. like excessively napping. or staring at the douche nozzles on the food network until four in the morning. or playing bejeweled until your eyes cross. sure, i mean to post. and thought i appreciate the emails, i swear, nothing’s wrong. i’m just being quiet, ya know? omg, please stop nagging me. nothing is wrong. i swear you won't find me hanging from the track lighting, at least not until the end of this season of project runway. i just get quiet sometimes, ok?
and then, for whatever reason, i decide, “you know, i’ve been remiss in my approach to this relationship. no, no, i’m going to make this work.”
so again, i’ve decided to take tim gunn's advice and try to make this blogging thing 
work. it's even become fun again, as i've been reading a lot of other blogs lately. my google reader is plum full of blogs and news feeds to skim though daily and give me ideas for my own blog. now that i've restocked my "little black book blogroll," it's still like relearning how to have sex, really. i mean here i am, flopping around, all jutting elbows and “can’t i just go to bed?” blogging takes a bit of practice and instruction.
in that spirit, if anyone has any blogs that they read regularly that they’d like to recommend, i’d be much obliged. conservative, liberal, libertarian, it doesn’t matter. (although let’s steer clear of things thats mention john mccain, angelina jolie, lindsay lohan and tom cruise, as they frequently make me want to kill myself. ok?)
and i'm willing to go through all of this, just because i’m going to make this work, damnit.
so i must just ask, read as i churn them out. i think it helps to avoid the writers block and keeps the loin juices flowing.
i know that times are tough, and i'm all about being thrifty, but there are some bargains that you should probably avoid. used cars=good. used clothes=good. used sex toys=not fucking good. i found these used "bargains" on amazon. i urge you to avoid them, buy them at wal-mart if you have to.
maybe it's because i have that phobia about ear juices, but used ear buds? go ahead and spend the extra $2.00 and buy the new ones. after all, you probably saved that much buying generic "cotton swabs" instead of real q-tips.
you might be wondering why a "used pastry brush" isn't a good "bargain." here's why: they are typically used for applying greasy substances like butter or bbq sauce to food; nobody, and i mean nobody, can get them completely clean. as a matter of fact, that's probably why you're buying a new one, because your current one is so greasy that it skeeves you out. again, spend the extra $2.00 or you'll end up with botulism.
the plunger in my own bathroom grosses me out, so i certainly don't want to buy a plunger with remnants of your turd nuggets on it.
although the typically "contaminated" part is missing from these adorable panties, just the thought of strangers sharing loin juices sends shivers down my spine. then again, there's nothing typical about crotchless panties.
if i learned anything from my high school sex ed teacher ms. ballway, it's that condoms are for sissies "prevent pregnancy & the spread of sexually transmitted diseases." when i think of used condoms, i picture the tribe of duggar's sitting around their mess hall with condoms & safety pins. you know, as part of their mission for jesus, to spread the quiverfull faith. no thanks. i'll stick with cvs.
eeeeeeeeew. that's just gross.
this reminds me of a joke that i heard once, something with a punchline about buying dildos at garage sales because they are cheaper. again, gross.
i've heard "don't knock it until you try it," but no matter how i try, i can't imagine how a chain on golf balls could possibly feel good in an ass. mine or yours. and furthermore, i also can't imagine the substances found on said strand of used golf balls upon retrieval. so again dear amazon, i'll have to politely decline your booty-bead "bargains."
...i will, however, continue to use you for your free pepsi mp3 downloads. (thanks for that.)
© Blogger template On The Road by Ourblogtemplates.com 2009
Back to TOP
