Tuesday, April 03, 2007

KP Nuts - Peter Doherty

Thursday, March 29, 2007


Sunday, March 25, 2007

shakira parody

Friday, December 29, 2006

10, 9, 8, 7,...

holy hell, it's new years already? i have no idea how 2006 has come and gone, like the turkey in A Christmas Story. Pop reading the daily news, clueless to the ravenous neighbor dogs running in thru the front door, toppling the kitchen table, swiping the bird, and back out thru the side door before anyone knows what hit them.

Eh, “turkey” is overrated anyway, right?

Soon we find ourselves at a chinese (though i prefer japanese or vietnamese) restaurant, a little drunk and protein-buzzed, reflecting on what a year it has been - whether wasted or thriven.

Deck the harrs with berrs of horry fa ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra, indeed.

happy new year.

Thursday, November 09, 2006


celebration: i'm not ugly

Monday, November 06, 2006

Placebo at Blackpool

(close enough, eh?)

weekends are for suckers

since the steelers are sucking a preverbal cock this season, i've decided to make weekends brilliant to pick up the slack.

friday night's details escape me right now. i know i had fun... hmm... OF COURSE! pizza and trivial pursuit - millennium edition with the boyfriend and my parents. which reminds me, do you know how horrible i am at such trivia games? oh it's the pits! you do not want me on your team. i am not the competitive type, so i have quite the fun answering questions like, "which american bird was on the endangered species list until 1990?" with "the pelican". with the millennium edition, certain game cards have pictures on the back. my father kept sticking random cards (like hitler or grisly bear) into his pocket and later consulting the cards when he was having trouble.

FATHER: hitler? what animal has a new york population of 7 million and humps 20x a day?

HITLER: spps sppps sppps the jews

MOTHER: no hitler, the answer is 'rats'.

after a 4 hour-long eye dr's appointment on saturday morning, boyfriend and i squeezed in a nap before driving to cleveland for a placebo concert. oh glorious placebo... why must you pick such cities as cleveland? if you're an avid reader of my blog, you know that i despise cleveland and everything in it. i will not go into great detail but it was quite the sight. little gay boys and over-weight girls clogged the angora theater like cottage cheese in a football helmet. not pretty. despite the location and crowd, we had a blast. the band was brilliant. i have been a huge placebo fan for many years so it was quite a treat.

sunday was meesha day. i went for an over-due facial. oh heaven upon my face. my skin looks amazing. what a difference 1.5 hours of massages and pampering will do for your pores. i mean, pores? what pores?

i posted a live placebo clip on the blog for your enjoyment. it is not from the concert i attended b/c like a monkey with a purse full of bananas, i didnt think i'd need my camera. enjoy.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Borat - Guide to Hobbies

anything to do with or mention jews, i'm in.

take it on the chin

Furious Styles

Why is it so hard for me to wake up in the morning?

sometimes i leave myself but 10 minutes to get ready and commute for work (it's unpossible, i know. (iknow)). I'll sleep in till the last possible second then race around, doing the absolute minimum (face, teeth, clothing) of my morning (or should i say mourning) routine before i shoot out the door and speed to work. it always makes for a frustrating tardiness but i can't seem to kick this bad habbit.

so this morning, when i wake up 15 minutes before i'm supposed to be at work, i freak. i jumped out of bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, threw on whatever clothes i could find, and made my way towards work. i thought it was quite odd - the lack of traffic on the road but didnt put it together till 1/2 way to the office. yes, it was in fact 630am, not 730am. for whatever reason i was under the impression that i had to be at work at 630. hmmmm.

and to make matters worse, my boss isnt coming into the office today. my 640am arrival goes unnoticed and unappreciated. son of a bitch.

i guess the bright side is: i made it to work on time.

i do very much enjoy the early mornings - just not the early rise. i feel magnificently productive to make something of my weekday mornings rather than my sleep-till-noon weekends. there's something fantastic about being awake before it's light outside.

son of a bitch.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

the sexy orphaned jew teens are safe. no worries.

Brown Bunny director, Vincent Gallo, has been spending a lot of time lately with another quasi-celebrity, Cory Kennedy. Kennedy, a girl who's famous in L.A. for allegedly being the girlfriend of 30-something photographer, The Cobrasnake, has changed her last name to "Gallo" on her MySpace and devotes posts in her blog to the director. Gallo is 45, Kennedy is 16. Not sounding creepy at all, Gallo explains their relationship:

"With the psychotic, middle-aged Madonna out there on the loose buying up all the stolen Negro babies in Africa, I felt it my social and humanitarian duty to take in any young, beautiful and sexy orphaned Jew teens running wild in Beverly Hills. Cory's a great kid, and I'm proud to be her daddy."

When he's not getting blowjobs on screen or selling his sperm on eBay for $1 million, Gallo apparently spends his time trying to have sex with 16 year olds. I'm not saying Gallo is a sick freak, but if he suddenly woke up in an elementary school, chances are he'd be in the closet, hanging by his belt with his pants around his ankles.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

thank you unknown narcotic

i managed all of 2 hours sleep total last night. thanks to a percoset-esque pain releiver, i spent my evening dizy, itchy, and restless.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

i might beat you up

whilst in philadelphia, i saw the coats of coats, a triple 5 soul parka. unfortunately, i wasn't smart enough to purchase the coat while it was right there in front of me. now i find myself searching far and wide, from coast to coast, for this god damn coat in my size small, black specifications. triple 5 soul must survive solely on tough love b/c i can't seem to track down this parka anywhere. even the website is of no assistance. and the last time i checked, internet purchases are made primarily for the convenience.

i could settle for a similar-style coat, but i seem to be picking out the littlest of differences and dismissing coats based on the "extra snap on the sleeve" or "criss cross stitching around the waste". ridiculous, i know.

i think i'll give the mall a quick peek and probably end up more frustrated than i am now.... coatless and lacking resources.

shall i go dark army green??

Thursday, October 19, 2006


Monday, August 28, 2006

Marketing Evaluations, Inc. stole my wit and i want it back

So paramount decides to drop Tom Cruise. I suppose they had some kind of deal or contract and now that it’s expired, Sumner Redstone doesnt want anything to do with him due to his “controversial and sometimes erratic behavior”.

If we want to understand why Sumner Redstone made such a decision, we first have to understand why Tom Cruise might be the lamest actor in Hollywood worth talking about.

For your pleasure and enlightenment, I have outlined a series of events that may or may not justify the squareness that is Tom Cruise:

Incident 1: Katie Holmes? KATIE HOLMES?????? In what twisted scientologistic world do these two belong in the same room let alone the same relationship? I thought Tom was more of a superficial I-want-my-woman-to-have-100%-control-of-her-lip-muscles kinda guy. You can’t put a D-list start with THE a-list start and expect people to accept this with open arms.

Incident 2: Couch Jumping? COUCH JUMPING??? I fortunately did not see this opera-moment, though I could only imagine. The public wants our gnome-size celebrities at heights no taller than 5’. We cannot handle a 4-foot Cruise-jump… especially from a 2’ couch. That’s 6’ of way-too-out-of-your-elevation-range.

Incident 3: Now I hate Brooke Shields as much as the next Brooke Shields-hater but when you start dissing us for our prescription drugs, you’ve gone too far. I used to take anti-depressants as an appetizer to my vodka tonics. I certainly see nothing wrong with taking prozac for post-partum depression. I think this is where Tom’s popularity took a turn for the worse and he AINT GETTIN IT BACK.

So blah blah blah – Tom and Kate are in love. They’re jet-setting, jet-setting, jet-setting… and then BABY.

Incident 4: SURI??? Excuse me? What the FUCK is suri? Sounds like a rash. (“uh, Bill. I can’t come into work today. I got a bad case of suri all over my face”) and I’m not one to exploit new born children but where the fuck is this kid? And don’t tell me that Tom doesn’t want to exploit his child b/c we all know that’s far far far from the truth. Even after speculation that this kid doesn’t exist / it’s an alien / it’s ugly as balls / etc / etc, he STILL wont produce pictures. I heard it was b/c Siloh Jolie-Pitt got 4$ mill and tom was only offered 1$ mill. I also heard they took pictures last week and they were mad photoshopped. Who fucking knows. Who fucking cares? I hate tom cruise and anything that his dick has been inside of (cough cough)

According to Marketing Evaluations Incorporated, a company that calculates the Q scores which measure a given celebrity's likeability factor (btw, how fucking lame is a company that rates celeb’s popularity (don’t even get me started)), “the public's positive perception of Cruise has fallen by 40% while the negative perception of the actor has jumped a whopping 100%.” And scientology’s ratings? Up. People are actually taking “scientology” seriously. I wonder if L. Ron Hubbard foresaw this ridiculousness that is SCI-FI !!!!!!

Anyway, I’m fucking done. Fuck tom cruise. He doesn’t deserve this much of my attention. (though I did find a really funny comic – though you have to reference the funny comic that Lindsay lohan’s dad drew from jail.)

* blogger isnt cooperating so no pics until it steps up.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

kitsch is just that and huey lewis didnt know what he was talking about

"did she just watch shanghi nights and try to combine jackie chan's japanese style with owen wilson's cowboy gear?"

as with every blog i write, this one in particular, i try to express my inner anger and hatred for everything everything. and although i will never be featured on vogue's best dressed, i am on logue's best dressed... and the following ARE ON NEITHER!

1st off, GUYS: please please please put down the women's jeans. what does this craze stem from and when will it fade away? you boys are lucky you're not prone to cellulite or things could get way uglier. example: you might have heard of a little band called juliana theory. well mr. lead-singer sent his sister to jc penny (of all places) to buy and return, 3 times, jeans from the women's department. rule of thumb: if you're embarrassed to buy it, you should be embarrassed to wear it.

2nd, your friends' uncles' shoes are not cool... maybe 20 years ago when neons were a-glow and we wore ponytails on our shirts. i dont care what band youre in, put down the l.a. gears.

3rd, if you live in pgh, you are not permitted to wear spandex: SAYS GOD!! he made you fat for a reason. take advantage of it - say when the ac in your office is a chilling 65 degrees all year round.

and lately it's not the fashion, it's the hair. please throw away all negro (is that appropriate?) hair grease, banana clips, hair gel, and hair extensions.

and last but not least: STOP TANNING YOU FREAK ASS!!

do we need visuals????

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

black people are always telling me what to do

i am too ecstatic! the boyfriend and i bought a couch - a couch and a big armchair! we rationalized our big purchase with vanity, jealousy, and pride (the good kind) when we realized every piece of furniture in our apartment is a hand-me-down. and after seeing the neighbors' fabulous decorating jobs (not be confused with decorative hand jobs), boyfriend and i decided it was time for home improvements. FIRST STOP: COUCHVILLE. we have been lounging on a futon for the past year and then some. though it's a nicer futon, especially now with its new cover, it's armless and metal-framed... not exactly what i desire for a center living area. our little hearts and booties will be happy come this thursday when it's delivered.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

i've never hit a hole-in-one but i've hit a guy... which is way more satisfying

i might have stretched the truth a little when i bragged to fellow co-workers of my great skills on the golf course. and by 'stretch the truth', i mean blatantly, white-tongue, flat-out, lied. i am not, in any sense of the game, a good golfer. i dont think i'd even consider myself a golfer - maybe just a girl that likes (and by likes, i mean hates) to golf.

i'll tell you the problems or the major, unreachable itches that are golf, to me.

a. i, in all aspects of ball-contact-required sports, have no eye-foot/hand/head/knee/any other body part used to play out such games coordination. none. i may be the only human being, besides the wheelchair-restrained, that has struck out at high school kickball. so the concept of hitting a little ball no bigger than a decent sized piece of cheese with a club no bigger than a really long pen is incomparable to someone such as myself.

b. i would like to set the record straight, i cannot see worth a damn. combined with my short attention span, that bright fuck we call a sun, and a little white ball (grant it, i can get one of those neon yellow balls but i dont want to look more lame than i already do), i'm practically out of the game after my first drive. (and being that my eyes and my brain are so close together, they usually side with one other and spoil what little optimism i do have) so the chances of me enjoying any part of this little game of 'where the fuck is my god damn ball!?!' is slim to none. and by 'slim to none', i mean 'none'.

c. and why is it we only play golf when it's 0% wind chill and 90 degrees? i swear the sun to me is like one of those son-of-a-bitch rain clouds that follow those unlucky bastards around constantly raining on their heads. only it's shining its miserable, hot rays of this-is-a-little-taste-of-hell-so-get-used-to-it death and I am that unlucky bastard.. and no visor, no hat, no pair of sunglasses will help my sun-loathing self.

any why is any of this relevant? my company is having a work-sponsored golf outing in a few weeks. and of course it's insert-foot-into-mouth (or is it?) time. i could bite the bullet, take the last tee time, cross my fingers, (maybe feeding the homeless the night before could help the karma a little), and take a shot (pun intended) (by the way, did you know that the pun is the lowest form of humor?), and see how it goes down... maybe even have a little fun. or do i bail out now - maybe a last minute death in the family or chinese food poisoning?

i'll take the latter.

Monday, July 17, 2006

i'm only writing so that my account does not shut down

fist off: i apologize for all the random/boring reads (3 or so) i've last posted.

second: my weekend: oh what a weekend. a blur, really. friday was the ghetto of ghettos: a rave in 2006. yes, that's right, these things still exist. boyfriend's friend came in from philly to dj this rooftop party. when i first heard about it, i thought "rave? ok, maybe a drum and bass 'party', but not a rave". oh was i wrong. these little pacifier-biting, candy bracelet-wearing, JENCO JEANS and sun visor-sporting jungle hippies had traveled in time - 6 years later - to attend this sorry-excuse-of-a-party party. silly. sad. boring. hot. shady. my crew and i decided enough was enough after about 2 hours and headed back to the apartment of all apartments (my apartment) and made worthy the night deemed friday night. from scratch margaritas, avocado/cheese/crackers, a playlist that would put dj lohan to shame... we partied till the wee hours of the morning (6:30am or so) which leads me to...

third: my cousin's wedding was saturday morning. yes, morning. it was a 10am ceremony followed by a 12 noon brunch. he lives in cleveland, which makes for a 2 hour drive to attend this god-forsaken event. b/c i'm "living with my parents" for relative’s sake, my invitations are sometimes combined with my spawners. and when my mother tells me of these get-togethers, she inconveniently forgets to tell me some important detail, like "THIS WEDDING STARTS AT 10AM SO WE'LL HAVE TO LEAVE BY 730AM SATURDAY MORNING". you would think the planner of this wedding would take into consideration that 50% of the attendees are coming from out-of-state. you would think they would go with the traditional evening reception. WHO THE FUCK HAS A WEDDING BRUNCH RECEPTION!?!?!?! well fuck it, i didnt go. i couldnt go. i hadnt gone to bed when i made the dreaded 630am phone call to my father telling him i wouldnt be making the monkey-march to CLEVELAND. cleveland? CLEVELAND? FUCK CLEVELAND! i hate CLEVELAND. i LOATH CLEVELAND! i contribute my hostility of cleveland to the 1990-1995 thanksgivings and light-up nights i had to endure, my sarcastic, pronouncing 'o's as 'a's accent-mouthed cousins (i.e. instead of "scott" it is "scatt" and "water" is "waaaaader"), and the (remember those strange realistic dreams of sitting on a toilet so you, yes, let loose only to wake up with a wet bed?) yeah, and that. (in my defence, i was 11 and in a weird bed - actually it wasn't even a bed, it was a sleeping bag. so dont poke fun.) so fuck cleveland. and fuck everything that has to do with cleveland - including my bitch-ass cousin. he is significantly older than me - maybe 10 years. and i imagine a 10-year-old-their-elder boy doesnt take much to little cousin chicken legs: myself (we have his father to thank for the leg complex, if you remember). cousin was always a dick to me and has since never held a pleasant conversation and to that i say "fuck your wedding". im more than happy i did not go. even if i have to listen to my parents one more time about responsibility and maturity. i believe it's not that i didnt attend the wedding so much as i rsvp'd i would, and then last minute, didnt. nonetheless...

i'm too exhausted to write about forth and fifth. you'll have to wait for the second installment of "hell: what is it good for?"

Wednesday, June 28, 2006


Foxy Brown can hear her own crappy music!

It was over a year ago that the rapper made an announcement that she was deaf.

An almost distraught Foxy conveyed her pain by telling stories of sleepless nights: "To suddenly lose your hearing after 10 years as a professional artist, I questioned God: 'Why me?' "

At the time, Brown's doctor issued a positive prognosis, saying she could recover after surgery. Around three months ago, according to her rep, Brown underwent surgery and is well on her way to having all of her hearing back.

"I went straight from the operating room to the studio," Foxy said with a smile. "It was really hard. I was deaf for an entire year. Completely deaf. The surgery was iffy. They didn't know if it would be a success, and it was."

Foxy was visited by Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt in the middle of the night and the child touched her ears and gave Foxy the gift of hearing back. Foxy is grateful and will now release an all Christian album this Christmas.

Not exactly, bitch had some kind of surgery and will release another wannabe Lil-Kim album this December.


I apologize for all the ridiculous videos I’ve posted. I have been exploring youtube with my spare time and feel it's necessary to share my delights with all of you. I suggest jumping on the bandwagon as soon as possible. Whoever thought to put video on the internet (no thank you al gore) is a genius. Cheers!

I’m going to remove the puking Beckham now that I’m aware of its unnecessary rewinding/sound effects that were edited into the clip. Enjoy it while you can.

As for my week: Boyfriend and I signed a lease Monday night. A beautiful 2 bedroom apt in Bellevue/Pittsburgh/Washington DC/Pennsylvania is now where I hang my hat. The building was gutted and remodeled and our new abode is nothing less than gorgeous. there are a few things I will miss - dishwasher, private patio, MY KITTY, etc., but we've got hardwood floors, a big bay window, ceiling fans, towel racks, a silverware drawer, and CLOSET SPACE OUT THE WAZOOO! Our leases overlap in the month of July, which means we're able to take our good ol time moving things from one place (technically 2 places) to the other.

... nothing much else.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Big Brother 2006: Nikki hasn't got any breakfast
Big Brother UK - Frustrated Glyn

a new addiction to add to the list: big brother uk. what a shame we dont get it here in the states!

Friday, June 23, 2006

i got nothin


Friday, June 16, 2006

the reicht wing

forget about gossip blogs, i'm my own new obsession.

(for blogging purposes, i live in dc despite what my ip address says.)

so i get to work and maybe 20 minutes into it, a lady comes in and informs us we all have to take a random drug test. (see in construction, there is random drug testing: a safety precaution for the construction workers that are in potentially life-threatening situations - climbing on scaffolding, blowing thru walls with tnt, etc, etc. but rarely, if ever are the office staffers to participate in these random drug tests.) well, 2/3 of the office (a total 6 of us work here) did not take the test for obvious reasons. i've been camping out in the office all day... avoiding phone calls and visitors. i even climbed under a desk at one point. if the drug testers were nazis, im the anne frank of childrens hospital. haha, im even keeping a journal of sorts.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

sound the shoe horn

you might remember me from shoe obsessions such as 'red reebok high-tops: too big? stuff them with toilet paper', ‘I know the sole is torn ½ way off! wrap em with duct tape and get on with your day', and 'they pinch my feet but i love em'. Today we embark on a journey to zappos.com where the shipping is free (and reckless (remind me to get back to that)) and the inter-isles are endless. i recently purchased these "babies">>> or for surfing purposes, "luv my flats by ninewest". two short days later they arrive via my faithful ups delivery man (sorry faye, not everyone's ups guy hates their customers (i think it's just everyone's ups guy hates you)). i slip (no pun intended) the slippers on and wah-la! im transformed into the ballerina i always hoped to have been but never bent to be. admittedly, they pinch the back of my heels with its folded leather lip but faye insures me they'll stretch so i keep them. (and for crediting purposes, agent storm did buy these (in pink) and recommended them in the midst of my too-expensive-london-slipper rant. thank you.) maybe i shoulda sprung for the size 9. Thunder storm had the 9 and they fit me fine. i suppose it's the woman in me that denies i need anything larger than an 8 - even if they do only come in whole sizes and run a bit too small.

speaking of too-expensive-london-slipper rants, the london slipper is too expensive! and with such colors as...

true blue


and butter

... who wouldnt be upset at the $120 price tag?

i hope to add a few more colors to my collection whether they be a knock off or the real deal (mike neil (oh, you remember him, c'mon))

immediately past the slipper, to the right, you'll see the hyde park heels.

these little calves originated from the anthropology, anthropologie.com. maybe it's mad cow disease or the pinch-your-toes virus but they've been marked down a surprising 199$, now 99$! (isnt my birthday coming up soon???) and i must say what a clever description written about the shoe, "A walk through time, courtesy of Lulu Guinness. Nouveau-printed black suede, laced and scalloped with golden leather, rests atop a 3" heel." "scalloped" should be more copious in my vocabulary. consider it scallopingly done.

i suggest a quick flip thru the sale net-rack before you leave.


My rapidly increasing addiction to coffee has sparked a desired blog review of my top favorites and least favorites along with creamers, brewers, and (d) all of the above’s effects on my mind, body (or more descriptively, colon), and spirit. I hope this will help you along your “precious precious overcaffeination” journey and maybe route you to precious precious overcaffeination.

(I don’t mean to copywrite, but imitation is the highest form of flattery – and at the rate I’m going, you’ve got so much sunshine up your ass you could… do whatever it is that sunshine-assed people do)


Lets start with my every day dose of folgers’ ultra roasted ground coffee in the single-pot, vacuum-sealed packs. I suppose I’ll put this on my favorites list (not to be confused with ‘The List”, which lists my least favorites) *list list listy list list list* at the number 2 spot. A recent rumor around the office is that this mama of coffees is not found in stores. We order our coffee and supplies thru some coffee supplier (for reasons unknown, I cannot disclose the name. reasons unknown meaning I don’t know the name of the supplier, hence, ‘unknown’ reasons) (that just got way too much attention). i find the folgers’ ultra roasted ground coffee in the single-pot, vacuum-sealed packs to be the perfect pick-me-up during the week when I have no other drugs in my system. It eases me into work-mode, which doesn’t say much only b/c I don’t do much. But if I did do much, it would be much more efficient thanks to my folgers’ ultra roasted ground coffee in the single-pot, vacuum-sealed packs caffeine buzz. I don’t know how much these little ladies cost but it’s a bang for your buck (what does the bang denote anyway? A bargain, assumingly.) (note to self: start using the word ‘bang’ when implying ‘a bargain’.) and for all you feeble-stomached sistas/brothas, it’s pretty easy on the lining: no Pepto-Bismol needed.

For those of you that cant hold down the fort (or in this case, hold in the fort), I recommend staying as far away from Maxwell House’s BOLD – blue tin. There were many-ah mornings I (excuse my bluntness) shit my brains out after a single cup of these beans, over and over and then some. I’ll admit I make my coffee a bit strong but this was a string of light-a-box-of-matches poos that my toilet has never seen. A little unnecessary when trying to recover from the dehydrated hangover of a familiar Saturday morning. Though, if you’re seriously considering a colonic but cant afford one, this is a fine and inexpensive substitute.

I, for one, do not travel outside of my local Giant Eagle for coffee. I prefer convenience over quality when it comes to coffee, along with pot, toilet paper, and cigarettes… oh wait, no. There is nothing convenient about cigarettes. So anyway, Kyle turned me on to Giant Eagle’s house brand called Farmers’ Market, in which I turn to when I want a bit of flavor in my bean. The last I tried, Moca Java + Coana Blend + Hazel Nut was brilliant and immediately climbed to #1 on the list. The store grinder is convenient b/c it’s the whole beans meats I-don’t-have-to-buy-my-own-grinder-expediency. And we all know I love expediency (reference beginning of paragraph). It’s a tranquil blend that doesn’t require flavored creamer. Perfetto!
And speaking of creamers, I two days sense discovered coffeemate’s coconut creamer. I usually prefer a lactose-induced creamer but will sacrifice the cream when I want flaver. In search for a picture of this fine, fine flavorful creamer, I came across coffeemate’s second newest flavor, crème brulee. I have yet to try this one but hope to soon.

And last, the coffee’s best friend, the brewer. I have nothing on this subject seeing as how I use a 14$ Coffeemate maker from Target. And that’s that.

Feel free to leave comments if you’ve anything to add: exciting brands and blends, brewers, beans, bottom-blowers, and/or bosom-blurbs.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

design this

has fashion week in ny already passed by?
well, fuck it. i'm in pittsburgh (woops, i mean dc - for blogging purposes) and we're at least a few months, if not years, behind ny. so this will be fashion week circa june 2006. enjoy.

first, we'll start off with the unobtainable collection of : D&G
it's knits and fur for summer 2006. im guessing D&G is based in the Himalayas b/c fur is hard to come by here in the states unless it's smeared on the highway pavements. and god damnit i've been sweating balls in jcrew tissue tee's so there's no way you'll catch me in these hand-warmer-fur-cone-thingies (now you see why i work in an engineering firm and not vogue)

next up: dolce & gabana
ever notice how fashion keeps repeating itself? i find this collection to be colonial pirate. i'm surprised there are no 3 point hats. i do like the buttons and the buckles but dont think i could pull it off this late in the game (i.e. i quit equestrian like 10 years ago and have much more important things to do with my time than ride masochistic horses: like amateur fashion blogging)

we continue fashion week summer 2006 with : Chole
these photos speek for themselves. i cannot believe this is couture! it's the-bum-that-pan-handles-on-the-side-of-the-fort-pitt-bridge-on-ramp-during-the-day-and-sleeps-under-it-at-night guy meets successful-weight-watchers-members-cothes-drive-1985.

finally, i was going to post a few purchases and/or wishlisted items i have made/wanted in the past month but this god damn blog picture poster is crapping out on me... s forgettaboutit. we'll leave that for another day (or 5 minutes from now)

Tuesday, June 13, 2006


fueled by the world's second coldest tasting beer (im not too sure what bud light's slogan is), over-rummed mai thais, and a couple of high-powered vodka drinks via a backyard bbq, the 5 of us set out to club glow for a night of nothing short of fantastic. though a few were rave-virgins, we all danced like pros to the exotic electronic records of the 'worlds greatest dj, sasha.

as if 170 pictures weren’t enough, my curiosity led me to the gallery of glow to where i hoped i might find a few more shots of our debauchery. to my dismay, i only found one - where i am not pictured. but if you look hard enough, you might just spot a storm drain.

cheers :)

Monday, June 12, 2006

girls drinking water

Friday, June 09, 2006

thighs, pies, and aeroplanes

i recently discovered my thighs (among other things) and their blatant disobedience to stay estranged from one another. when i was a wee girl, i had the skinniest legs known to wee girls. i was unable to appreciate what a blessing this was, mainly b/c it mousetraped such nick names as 'chicken legs' or 'bird legs' or 'skinny fucker'. (thank you so very much for the leg complex, uncle joe.) if they're not too thin, they're too fat. and this is what i catch myself thinking these days. why must the only parts of my 64 inches of legs that touch be my feet and my inner thighs? why must a 105 lb. (dont worry, we'll get to that) woman feel insecure in a bathing suit? body image and the stressful idée fixe are a newer concept to me and i just might break down from the neurosis it's causing me. not only has this complex cost me a strenuous 25$ a month (gym membership), maybe all of 2 inches of flesh touch and it’s stripping me of my sanity. i am not one for worrying about appearances (not that i dont like to look my best). i am not one for working out (though there is a bit of self-satisfaction after a hard 30 minute workout now and again). and though i AM one for self-improvement and sticking-to-it, i believe this one of those situations i am going to have to call a truce on. how can i battle nature and her nasty decorum.
and the scale? oh the mother of all adversaries!!! curse you!! a few nights ago, after a killer meatloaf dinner at the boyfriend's parents' house, after a quick relief of the bladder, i curiously hopped on the scale to nimbly check what i THOUGHT i already knew: my weight. after all we've been thru over the years the bitch had turned on me! i was recently at the dr's office and i remember no such ponderosity. i admit i wasn't paying much attention but there's a big difference between the 100 mark and 110. and if, in fact, she wasn't lying, this would mean i had gained at least... 6 lbs since the dr's visit! self-disgust. self-loathing. self-turn-around-and-puke-up-the-five-pounds-of-potatos-i-just-finished-eating. i still, to this day, dont know if she was truthfully taunting me or if she was just joshing, but she roared '115' and i haven't looked her in the eye since.

i think when it comes down to it, i am uncomfortable in any other body than my 16 year old body and i am 50% unwilling to do anything about the podgy-being i am becoming. ;-)

Friday, May 26, 2006


sang to the tune of "Total Eclipse of The Heart"

total-ly crips and the bloooods

total-ly-si-immery downnn

work 18 hours whatta ya get? your parents wanna sell you to paris hilton

it's ya birthday. go on love, it's ya birthday!

side cap: i work for an electrical contractor. i am in the office and rarely get to enjoy that is a sexy, overall-clad electrician. but sometimes.... oh, sometimes... DAMN I WISH I HAD MY CAMERA!

Friday, May 19, 2006

America's Next Top El DeBarge

I said to her, i said, "tyra, girl, you aint lookin too fierce with that stache." and she goes, "listen cave bitch, i'll tell you whats fierce. you dont tell me what's fierce. i tell you what's fierce!" then she bobbled her head at me and i knew she knew what she was doin.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

how selfish of me

a lesser-known fact: i am obsessed with online gossip zines (and for a few reasons). i mean, why not? it's all the juicy celeb trash-talking hearsay in a convenient online medium without the 3.29$ price tag or the fuck-i've-already-read-this-one, wait-another-week bother. and whatever your vice, whom ever your lustee, these columnistas have it covered. there are hundreds of these guilty pleasure feeders to satisfy your every rumor-need.

i do admit, after 30 hours of pictures of LL's leggings, i start to feel bored, ashamed, a bit invasive. but the feeling comes and goes as a wave of hollywood-trash-incursion washes over me. it's quite the addiction - way better than myspace ever was to me.

hollywood rag's coverage of brandon davis bashing LL and her 'fire crotch' is quite the walk in paparazzis' shoes.

from people magazine's WORLDS MOST BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE to college humor's 25 UN-SEXIEST WOMEN, they've got it covered.

so i could go on and on forever and ever about all the crazy hollywood garbage being smeared over the internet, but i figure you kitties want to see it for yourselves so... i'll just throw you in the sea of gossip and you can sink or swim - your choice.

im not obsessed
the velvet hottub
hlltywood tuna
celebrity nation

and for those of you that like not-so-famous la trash:
the cobra snake

Friday, May 12, 2006

correct me if i'm wrong, but...

Is the black too uninviting?

red storm pushed me far enough to write in this god-forsaken journal. this wont be an everyday occurance so CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY (faye). and i say (faye) b/c you're the only soul reading this.

i decided to dedicate this blog to 'the list' - better known as 'those we dont speak of' or rather 'those we dont say their names'. This list was conceived circa 1999, probably at some godly obsene hour of the morning, with nikki, thanks to (dare i say her name??) a schoolmate who took the low road to junkie-mother-of-two-to-two-different-fathers-hood. So thank you You for the endless entertainment that you have provided me and my fellow haters.

where shall we start? ah: the awkwardly-conversing, obnoxious, attention-craving (keep in mind, most of the Listers are D: all of the above) I R O N T O O T H

but first off,i think we should all give I R O N T O O T H a round of applause for her phenomenal jump to the top of the list in the shortest amount of time. why you ask? it's my deepest pleasure to tell you. i mean, what's the point in having a list if you can't talk MAD SHIT of all those listed?

so I R O N T O O T H is an acquaintance i met a few years back thanks to, or rather no thanks to *pedro*. Nikki and i ventured out to Dormont for a house party unaware the orally-metal beast would be there too. A long story short, she was horrifying! she RUINED my game off asshole, bruised the arms of a few male comrades, and maybe, just maybe stained the very seat she sat on. nikki and i STILL talk about that fateful night to this day.

I remember seeing her a few times after. I remember thinking i was foolish for writing her off so quickly. i mean, if everyone wrote me off every time i had one-two-many drinks, i'd be cold and alone sitting under the roerto clemente (bridge) with a pocket knife contemplating suicide. (ok, that was a little far fetched - but this is entertainment, baby.) SO i took the plunge, swallowed my pride, and made amends. she later told me how impressed she was with my maturity. maturity? more like infirmity. to-date, i regret nothing more than the excuse of her ill-behavior. and furthermore, if i hadnt, i think my life would be a little warmer, a little brighter, a little less to complain about.

Come november 2005, my friend *hello kitty* graduated college and threw a little get-together. her brothers attended school with a close Friend, which resulted in me, the Boyfriend, and the Friend making the guest list. it was a fun time: the works: good conversation, endless bottles of booze, dingy garages to smoke in, and best of all, hello kitty's brothers just happened to get a nice big rock - and we all got high. The rest is history: Friend gets chatty with I R O N T O O T H - they start dating. (let me clarify: rock=coke, not crack. i live in Ronbinson, not Homewood.)

I tried to give her a chance. honestly. we did the sunday football games, the drinks at the bar... but every single time she opened her puts-julia-roberts-to-shame mouth, i cried inside and a piece of me died. (fuck, i should devote my life to poetry).

And if matters couldnt get any worse, SHE SHE SHE SHE FUCKING I R O N T O O T H decides SHE DOESNT LIKE ME!!!!!!! the audacity!! i am still baffled as to where she comes off HATING ME!!!!! she tells Friend she doesnt want to hang around me anymore.

The trouble is, folks, i no longer get to see Friend.... maybe once a month, if i'm lucky. and Boyfriend doesnt get to spend his weekends with Friend b/c thats "their" time together.
It's horrifying. it's embarassing. she is an unattractive, large-hipped, black pantyhose/anne taylor-esque clad HORSE OF A FACE woman. i am ashamed to admit she dates a dear friend of mine. i dread conversations - if i ever dare find myself in one with her again. and the kicker? are you ready for this? Friend doesnt even like her. he, in fact, cannot wait to break up with her. he's one of those martyr types. you know, taking on the stresses of the world; will sacrifice his happiness for others. but he complains about her all the time. Once, (dare i spill the juice) she put on some sexy (though not too sexy. she IS a size 16 afterall) lingerie with the intensions of seducing Friend, went down on him, and he PUKED IN HIS MOUTH!! i mean, c'mon! what more of a sign do you need!?! a fucking carrier pigeon to shit a note on your head that reads: dump your beat-ass girlfriend???? i am outraged (or maybe grateful) that it has to come to this:

The List
1. I R O N T O O T H

(stay tuned for #2-9485739847593847593)

that should be enough for you gossip-hungry netwhores.
but before i get back to questmastering, like a promised, a blurb from a recent aim conversation with red storm :

RedSTORM (12:49:22 PM): but that shit is like a hair trigger. one minute it's recreational and the next minute your doing lines off some transvestites hairy ass crack to score your next fix (and i'm speaking from experience)

Thursday, May 11, 2006

pit-less cherries

i've always been a huge fan of the courier font. it's so classic. it's typewriter font circa the future. (and this is exactly why i stopped blogging: subjects to blog about, or lack thereof)

new life.
new blog.