no thanks.

 this here is some right crazy craziness. don’t do it.

whyiwasdissed.com sends emails to your beloved disappearing act, encouraging them to fill out a questionnaire detailing exactly why they did a disappearing act, in the hopes that they’ll be nice enough to comply seeing as they’re getting the opportunity to sort of do the right thing, minus the addressing you personally part. funny stuff!

in a sort of sad-clown way.

wait, what season are we in again?

Three days ago it was so cold out for April, it was a joke. Yesterday it was sweltering hot. I am ready for Spring. Not “More Winter”, not “Disgustingly Hot”. Spring. You know, that weather that occurs in April and May where you can wear long sleeves without a jacket, and not be freezing, and not be sweating your ass off either. Does that exist anymore in the Mid-Atlantic region?

It’s been alot like going from platonic to jumping on it in a heated frenzy. Can we have some flirtation before tearing clothes off? I saw a young man in the Village wearing a T-shirt that said “An Awkward Morning Beats A Boring Night”. This is Spring. I saw a not-so-young man wandering around in nothing but a Speedo. This is not Spring. And I am not ready to witness such tomfoolery (even if, to his credit, he was not all that hairy).

Robot Suits!

ZOMG the military is testing out robot suits !! I saw the report on BBC News, and though I didn’t recognize the reporter, I can tell you she had an “oh, you silly americans” smirk just under the surface the whole time.

papal visit

The Pope is here! Yesterday he was at st. pat’s, here’s the official ticket:

Hip Hop Hooray!!

The question on one particular blog was who was opening. At first Japanther was suggested, upon which I asked if we could squeeze in Tokio Hotel – they’re little and don’t take up much space- since the Pope is German. The jokes probably stemmed from my bitterness that I could not get a ticket- a real one, anyway - I have to admit, I was pretty curious about the whole thing.

So I watched some on TV.

I woke up a little late, so when I turned on the telly, we were right smack in the middle of the homily. All I can tell you is that  he seemed to talk about the cathedral itself quite a bit, especially the windows (no, really, he did).  Oh and um, the whole sexual abuse scandal. Beyond this, seeing as I didn’t liveblog this one I can’t give you a play-by-play. Well, why the hell not, i.w.j.s.? Sorry guys, it was the whole tuning-in-during-the-homily. The cause was lost at this point…

Growing up, I recall the homily as positively my least favorite part of mass. I can only recall one priest I could stand to listen to, the rest I completely tuned out to check out who was wearing what, if there’d be donuts in the basement afterwards, why could I not be a priest if I wanted to, why don’t we go to a church like the one in Sister Act- you know, childthoughts. And there always seemed to be these perfectly good stopping points in the homily, and yet. It just. Kept. Going. And when it finally was over, I’d wonder why it couldn’t have finished earlier at those half a dozen spots that had indeed seemed like good places to wrap it up. Still, there was this sense of relief.

There were also these certain markers afterwards that I would make a mental note to check my impatience. The big one was the “Lamb of God” because that meant communion was soon, and that meant that mass was over as far as my clan was concerned because the second you got back to your seat, still choking down the cardboard wafer, dad would say “Let’s blow” and we were out of there, announcements and closing hymn be damned. Sometimes I wondered if the communion was all we were there for and that’s why we sat through the rest, in which case I wondered if we would make use of a drive-thru communion were there to be such a thing.

But no part of the mass was so difficult to get through as the homily.

So seeing as I happened to join the fray at that very point that recalled the height of childhood fidgetyness and adolescent boredom, I just could not get into it. However, you are reading a blog, not a news source, so I suspect that the “True Life: I Went to Mass Every Sunday For 17 Years” bit was the kind of morsel you came here to gobble up anyway.

A Celebration of Crime

So gangster tales have provided alot of juicy material for some truly top-notch movies and literature. However, telling an interesting story about wiseguys is one thing, building a shrine is quite another. But it goes without saying that the Gangster Museum of America, which opens on Sunday, is undoubtedly gonna bring in the bucks.  Look for the Serial Killers Museum of America, the Drug Kingpin Museum of America, and the Con Artist Museum of America, just around the corner!

Lost Things

I was just thinking about lost items seeing as I just lost- oh let’s see- SOMETHING VALUABLE FOR THE 5TH F’ING TIME IN LESS THAN TWO MONTHS. Good to get that off my chest.

One of those things was clearly a theft but nonetheless, I was right there. Anyway, right up until about a year ago the St. Anthony prayer always did the trick (oh, that’s just a little litany that Catholics do to recover lost items- Tony’s the patron saint of lost objects) but for whatever reason he’s clearly not doing business with me anymore, so I’m kind of on my own to vent in frustration before I begrudgingly replace the lost object.

Well, I’m in still in the venting part, so I thought I’d go for a walk, but I went reallyfar, so then I got on the bus, which was a big mistake because the whole thing just made me more cranky. First I see that cartoon ad for the MTA’s Lost and Found. Ever seen it? Let’s see if we can find an an image…oh here we go:

So we’ve got- keys (oh that makes sense- one of the things I lost!), sunglasses (lose those too), a basketball (odd) and- an f’ing cupcake?! A- prosethetic leg? And…Wtf a MF’ING COBRA??!! Who the F leaves a MF’ING COBRA on the mf’ing BUS and why the F would LOST AND FOUND  keep it around?

Stupidest. Ad. Ever. No one goes to reclaim a cupcake that fell out of their bag. People notice when their legs fall off. And of course, I don’t need to elaborate on the cobra. I’m not so dense that I don’t see this as an attempt at humor on the MTA’s part. I just happen to think their humor is moronic. And a slap in the face considering recent events.

To exacerbate my aggravation, I was sitting next to a legspreader (who, on top of it, looked pretty dirty and had on a ridiculously puffy jacket with what looked like….a road pattern? taking up yet even more space). We all know the theory behind this just plain rude way of positioning oneself. The larger one perceives their package, the greater the space they feel they need between their legs when sitting down. Well here’s what I think, big guy-if you’re truly blessed to be that well-endowed, the price you pay is you tuck your junk in so you don’t need to sprawl out in such a way that’s got me sitting on half a seat with my elbows pinned to my mfin’g sides. Thanks.

And it gets better. Someone decided that while they were on a bus full of people, this would be an excellent time to settle on a new ringtone! So we get to listen to some jerk go through about 25 of them, all of which are equally annoying. No wonder it was so tough to pick one! Good and loud too, to the point where I thought maybe he was passively seeking input from other passengers, at which point I spoke up with “That one. The one you just listened to? #26? I think you should just go with that one.” He didn’t like that too much, but too damn bad. I don’t like much having to hear a chirpy snippet of every hot R&B crossover song.

And then I got off the bus and now I’m home and I’m isolated. Which isn’t too bad actually. And then I get to thinking whether I really want to stay here, and then I remember, considering what I do and my lifestyle, that the only plausible alternative is likely a certain west coast metropolis that is- as one individual put it so elegantly- “sprawling, polluted and covered in freeways” (ha! just like my neighbor on the bus!) And settled, once again, despite all the complications, on my love-hate relationship with the Big MF’ing Apple.

kitteh videos!

 

 

 

 

your miss usa 2008 live blog is right here

Why am I doing this? Because I find pageantry fascinating. I find the glossy production values mesmerizing and the girls lovely to look at. I become nostalgic for my own one-off with the whole dog-and-pony show (yeah, I did it). But more than anything, I find utter hilarity in not only how seriously it takes itself, but in the honest-to-god sincere manner in which it’s presented, as if the powers-that-be are truly unaware that anyone of average intelligence can see right through the whole phoney-baloney. Even after the Miss Nevada and Miss New Jersey scandals- and let’s not forget the big one with Tara Conner’s proclivities for lots of boys and lots of blow- even after all this, the organization really thinks they’re fooling you. The whole don’t- mind-the-Wizard-behind-the-curtain treatment’s like when Sylvester puts on that face of mock innocence, claiming to have no idea where Tweety went when Granny interrogates him- and meanwhile, a lone yellow feather drifts in front of his mouth. It would be endearing, really- if it were cats, and not people, and if they weren’t making so much money off of it.  Still though, the whole farce, campy without intending to be, gets me doubling over in laughter. So here’s the recap of the highlights, which include a jillion funny moments, all side-splittingly unintentional.

I started a little late here, so the early details are a bit spotty. The live live blog begins at the swimsuit competition.

Ok, so Donny & Marie host. Lots of awkward sibling tension here. Marie’s pretty made up, Donny’s clearly had some work done, and Marie takes great pleasure in cutting down Donny at every turn, who kind of takes it like a bitch. Is this public humiliation payback for the time he popped the head off her baby doll or just their usual schtick? If the latter, Jesus, how depressing.

Top 15 are picked and sorry I missed this one but in all honesty I don’t recall much that was noteworthy of the process anyway.

We see a recap of the girls’ photo shoot. Which, based on the styling and art direction, basically looks like porn, but with clothes on and of course, without the sex.

We are introduced to the judges. Christian Siriano (omg please check out his photo on missusa.com, srsly) gets the most applause, some guy from Vanity Fair that nobody’s ever heard of gets the least, and Rob Schneider mugs and steals fellow judge Amanda Beard’s thunder by leaning into the frame and continuing to mug during her intro.

I imagine what their score sheets must look like. Rob Schneider’s would be something like  “Hot. Would totally do that one. Hot, yet butter face. Hot, but looks like a bitch. Hot, would be interested in seeing in French maid outfit, Hot, etc. etc.” Christian’s I’m sure would have “fierce” “hot mess” and “tranny fierce” scrawled all over it. The linebacker would draw pictures of the ones he likes best. Ken Paves is looking for great hair.

We are treated to a montage of carefully choreographed scenes of the girls “enjoying” Las Vegas. We see them playing with the dolphins (but not swimming, because we do not f with the hair, darlings) and “dance” at a nightclub, and by dancing I mean slight movements with arms slightly bent.

Swimsuit competition- Some one hit wonder comes on and sings a song I’m vaguely familiar with due to a sad coworker’s strong and unfortunate affinity for K-Rock. Somehow they manage to hold their concentration despite the fact that 51 ladies- 36 of which are totally done for the night but are still forced to parade in front of the audience in bikinis anyway- strut past just a few feet away. I think if I was one of the losers, and therefore had nothing more to lose anyway, I’d jump in with the band and start to jam. In my bikini. Yes, I would.

The girls wear faux fur over the bikinis, because of course, real fur is wrong, wrong, wrong. Good thing they were going for glam and not edge, because then they’d have to wear leather. But not real leather because that is wrong, wrong, wrong which means of course they’d have to wear pleather which of course would be just awful.

I love Oklahoma. Indiana lets us know she’s a good time girl by peppering her time on stage with more than a few naughty glances, which may help or hurt, depending on how progressive the judges are.

Time to knock down to the final 10. There’s my Oklahoma! Lindsey Jo is her name. Of course.

I like Mississippi because she says she’s good at communicating and building relationships. That’s a good skill to have.

Indiana, aspiring actress, makes the cut. Guess those come hither looks worked.

Now we “learn” a little more about the girls through carefully edited video clips of their interviews.

Minnesota gives an altogether unclear answer as to how she reacts to negative opinions about pageantry but of course in the end it has something to do with self-confidence and self-esteem.

Indiana’s clip is obviously cut down when she talks about being raised by a single mom (say something controversial there, missy?)

Donny makes a comment about how it’s time for the girls to now take a trip across the stage in their evening gowns- “no pun intended, ha ha” he says- and I truly am hoping that this isn’t foreshadowing. As funny as it is to see people fall, maybe it’s because I’m a former pageant contestant but I can only imagine what a horrible moment that has to be for a girl, because it’s then that she knows that after all the hard work, crunches and protein shakes that taste like aquarium water, she is so done.

Anyway, here we go! Evening gown time! The girls slowly sashay to Rihanna’s “Umbrella”, though personally I think Scott Simon’s version would be more appropriate- although it’s a given the pageant organizers have never heard of this young man or even if they had, wouldn’t put on an artist that less than 90% of the population under 22 has heard of, so it’s a moot point.

Massachusetts has a nice, basic if a bit boring classic black low-cut deal. Oh wait, aren’t they all low-cut these days?

Nope. Missouri wears a light blue sparkly frock with a neck that’s damn near up to the chin, a modest approach that balances out the fact that it’s completely see-through except for where it absolutely cannot be for network television- Jenna Jameson meets Barbara Bush. It’s weird. And I’m sure Christian loves it.

Jersey? Forgot about the dress, caught up in the girl- a damn good model.

Pennsylvania wears a sparkly lace one- I’m not feeling that fabric- it’s quite like what you see large bolts of in the “bridal” section in those wholesale stores in the garment district.

Oklahoma is ridiculously hot, bad bouffant be damned. The dress is silver with side cut outs, It’s alright.

Mississippi wears your standard low cut white gown. It’s tough to pull off white stretchy material, but she does and pulls down an 8.953 for it. Yeah I just noticed that they’re showing scores.

Tennessee- um wtf? I don’t get this bizarre corsety gown that shows skin down the middle. Neither do the judges. 9.453.

Fierce miss texas wears a gorgey sparkly bronzey gown. Um whoops, missed the score.

Indiana is decked out in something I can’t figure with weird copper pieces around her hips. 8.578.

Florida. Don’t like it. It’s blue and green and looks sort of tye-dyed. Side cut outs are nice, as is the rhinestone detailing. 8.500.

In the end, no trips or falls, so f u, Donny.

 

Marie interviews some losers backstage and puts down Donny, again. Awkward, again!

 

Donny interviews Joey who pretends to like beautiful women.

Donny interviews Mills, who says you have to work at these pageants for nyez and nyez and nyez (years and years and years).

Donny interviews Rob who claims he lost 8 pounds while watching the swimsuit competition. I have no idea what the hell that’s supposed to mean. Rob continues to act like an idiot and poor Heather Beard has to keep sitting next to him and act amused by his antics.

After commercial, we get a mini-marketing push for Vegas- specifically, Planet Hollywood, because they’re really hurting these days and need the money. J/K don’t worry! They’re just sponsoring. Did I mention the owner is a judge? The girls are never seen on the casino floor. Or in the bar. They are shown dancing at Prive. Like the “dancing” before.

Miss Congeniality is awarded. I absolutely have to leave it at that, ok? My intention is not to be a meanie to the contestants when it comes to things they can’t help, like being 22 but appearing to be- OK, I am so stopping right there. Anyway, I’m sure it was stylistic approaches and I’m totally digging myself deeper here so let’s move on.

Some Viewer’s Choice award is given to Alaska, who either sucked in interview or has no pull because the gal is a model of drop-dead fresh-faced cover girl gorgeousness.

 

More commercials for fast food, cleaning supplies, Kmart and cruise lines. It’s no secret who the target demographic is here. And it ain’t me.

 

And we’re back! Top 5 announced to the tune of cheesy synthesizers and a seizure-inducing light show.

Pennsylvania. Eh.

Texas. Of course.

Oklahoma. Yes!

Jersey- Ok.

Mississippi- don’t really understand the appeal. But I guess you need some dark hair in there.

 

Too bad about Indiana. I guess the overtly-trampy routine can only take you so far. Which is a shame, really, when you think about it.

 

Question time! This is always good. I don’t feel bad when they f up here, because if they do, it’s they own damn fault.  I mean really, the questions in the MUO are so easy, it’s a cakewalk to prep for. Then again, I have a superiority complex in this area due to the fact that I totally RULED at it!!!1!!! I know, really something to proud of there, Mar.

 

Pennsylvania answers a question about being a USO girl, and smiles her way through talk of shot down helicopters and being in “Sniper Alley”.

Texas gets to talk about her business. Talk about a softball question.

Oklahoma is asked about her experience chasing a wild boar. She informs us that she has a lot of guy friends (bet that’s all they see you as too, sister) she does this with, and a butchy Aunt Chris who enjoys these excursions as well. J/K. No Aunt Chris.

New Jersey went to the D.R. and gets to talk about how all sorts of crazy it was doing nature-y things.

Mississippi talks about her childhood speech impediment. You know, I did think she sounded a little funny, and I mean that in the nicest way possible, I do.

 

Now Donny makes another joke and Marie, of course, promptly decimates him.

 

The announcer announces. “Someone’s dream is about to come true”. And the dream of four other girls is about to be smashed into pieces. So it goes.

 

Donny and Marie explain the process of the judges’ question. Marie laughs at the cute little bell sound. The girls pick their cards and their judges.

 

Heather asks Pennsylvania about marketing makeup towards little girls and seems dissatisfied by an answer that doesn’t really answer the question.

 

Miss Texas gets Shawne Merriman who asks about forced military service. Texas states she is anti-draft, and I’m thinking that’s not a very red-state thing to say.

 

Oklahoma gets Christian- “Hello darling”, he begins, “if you could help any famous person, who would that be and how would you help them? (insert head tilt here)”.  Oklahoma takes the obvious choice, Britney, and the audience laughs. “Now guys…” she admonishes. The audience is immediately shamed and silenced like a bunch of kindergartners, and Oklahoma continues on about how she wants to develop Britney’s confidence and help her “get over whatever she’s going through” (um, it’s mental illness darling, everyone knows) and the rest is- kind of unintelligible. Which no one notices because they’re still ashamed for laughing at Britney.

 

Joey asks Jersey about what to do about mean parents who don’t let their kids watch tv or use the internet- Jersey says this is “bad”.

 

Mississippi picks Kelly Carlson, who asks about looks getting your foot in the door- Mississippi acknowledges this is so, but is of course quick to mention her intelligence as well.

 

Prize package time! In short order, the crown, the mandatory UWS digs, Farouk hair products, trump model management contract, shala clothes, nina shoes, ymi gear, syrup bikinis, vacay at westgate, a 2 year scholarship at ny film academy…basically, all things that are kind of essentials for the job. Including the measly 4-day vacation, so the queen doesn’t go completely insane. I remember when the prize packages included neat things like cars and jewelry. This in turn is like giving a housewife a vacuum cleaner. Or me binder clips for doing such a great job at putting together packages of tax returns.

 

The last look: Pennyslvania does her thing whatever, Texas struts out with confidence (she really does have it goin’ on and what with having her own business, it makes me wonder what the hell she needs this pageant for anyway), Oklahoma comes out, big bouffant and all, Jersey sweeps across the stage and I finally notice her gown, a greenish sequined number, and finally Mississippi, whose fabu gold eyeshadow I notice for the first time. When the five are presented together, Jersey makes the interesting choice of doing an “over the shoulder” look.

 

Donny and Marie plug their Vegas show, which I’ve decided I’m so not going to because I’m kind of tired of seeing Marie rip Donny to shreds.

 

The old queen does her final walk in a flowing mustard maternity dress and talks about Southern values.

 

Ernst & Young accountant walks out with the results, making history as the first rep they’ve ever had who is semi-attractive. The usual joke is made about it being the accountant’s 5 seconds of fame because usually he’s pent up in a drab cubicle crunching numbers and everyone laughs because it’s fun to laugh at accountants and how boring their lives are, but the accountant has the last laugh because in reality, he likes the drab cubicle because he doesn’t have to interact with people there, least of all silicon-doll-like people, and can’t wait to get back.

 

4^th runner up: Pennsylvania

3^rd runner up: Oklahoma. Oh, it’s so totally going to Texas now.

2^nd runner up: New Jersey. Oh god please let it be Texas.

 

Donny almost says “And the new Mrs. USA is…” because in reality it would be so much better if it were a married woman because everyone knows a married woman is so much more of an ideal woman than a single one, especially if she’s Mormon.

 

1^st runner up: Oop! Cocktease commercial break! Hmph. Cocktease. Who am I kidding. The guys stopped watching once swimsuit was over.

 

I sit through an Herbal Essences commercial that could pass just as easily for a Barbie commercial.

 

Cut back to the girls. They are holding hands. Texas’ are on top of Mississippi’s, and everyone knows that means she’s the dominant female and so of course is totally winning.

 

1^st runner up: Mississippi

Texas done it! And gets like 3 seconds to do a victory walk. That really sucks, actually.

 

Going forward, I wonder how a woman who is clearly no doormat, who owns her own business, is going to fare working for and answering to someone else. Especially a business that’s got the number of restrictions MUO does. Should be an interesting season of Pageant Place….

it’s 2 a.m.

it’s so different here. i extol the joys of living here and no one gets it- think i’m bein’ all silly and what not. no no no you don’t understand. unless like me, you grew up in a town where you “talked” to the cattle next door as a wee babe and there was huge excitement when they painted lines on the road. if someone drove by, that was something. that was what it was. if that was part of your life experience and now you live in nyc and can deal with all the crap parts of living in the most compressed city in the u.s. then you get it.

now i can come home from a play that moved me to tears, then go do decent (free!) karaoke, and get a slice (where i grew up, if you didn’t have food in the fridge at 2 a.m. and you were ravenous, too damn bad- store’s closed), walk home and crawl into bed. and i don’t have to worry about getting behind the wheel or finding someone to drive me.

sometimes i do miss the driving. but not having to tonight? love it.

you cannot find anything weirder…

…than this on the internet. i won’t even challenge you to, because you simply just can’t. although, seeing as australia is populated with derelict lunatics, i suppose it makes sense that if anything this bizarre exists, it would come from there. 

unless the guy behind this is autistic, in which case, i’d feel terrible, retract my statement and call it a work of creative genius that the 3% of my brain i actually use can’t possibly comprehend.