Sunday, August 31, 2008

Because Racism is Funny

Sometimes I'm baffled by what gets on TV, especially on a supposedly respectable news show.

What happened behind the scenes at The Today Show that day?

Let's imagine:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA wouldn't it be funny if we went up to that Chinese girl and told her that Kathie Lee was her cousin? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA.

And then they did it as a joke, except that asshole decided to roll the cameras.

That's the only logical explanation.

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Saturday, August 30, 2008

Getting Trashy at Dallas BBQ

You may have seen their ads on the A train.

Dallas BBQ, you can supposedly get "New York's favorite margaritas." Whenever I see an ad touting "New York's favorite" something, I laugh, because really, how can we get nearly EVERY New Yorker to agree on their favorite podiatrist, magarita, or divorce lawyer? Okay, so the majority of the ads I look at are on the subway, and their target market is the dregs of society. I digress. After a friend who was born and bred in NYC suggested Dallas BBQ as a great place for cheap, trashy BBQ and gigantic frozen margaritas, I decided to give it a shot.

Abi, the hippie who doesn't eat food with bones in it, for some reason agreed to go to the Dallas BBQ with me last weekend. The food was cheap and satisfying (especially the corn bread), and the margaritas, served in a gigantic goblet with an extra shot of tequila on the side, were mind-numbingly wonderful.

A table on the patio made it easier to ignore the trashy patrons of the restaurant and gave us a prime spot for viewing all of the wonderful weirdos who frequent the East Village.

After a giant meal and two giant margaritas, Abi and I received the bill, which was only $50 for the two of us, including tip. I felt like a financial wizard.

This was in huge contrast to the expensive yet fantastic meal I would have at
Punch Restaurant with my friend Tim the following week. $100 for the two of us. Luckily I got paidddddddddddd this week.

So basically, if you want a decent meal, gigantic frozen drinks, and a small bill, go to Dallas BBQ.

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Refugee Girls Revue is Your New Favorite Off-Off-Off-Broadway Show

So last week, I went to see a comedy/musicial/spoof as a part of New York's annual Fringe Festival to review for work. After seeing my first Fringe performance that sucked up the joint (seriously, I wrote a career-ending review for all of the world to see), I wasn't too optimistic about seeing a musical spoofing the ever-popular American Girl Dolls.

News flash: it was HYSTERICAL.

I mean, how could it not be? Look at this photo:

Here's the review of, well, the revue:

Tsunamis, illegal immigration, child labor, global warming: Nothing is safe or sacred in the deliciously wicked spoof that is The Refugee Girls Revue. This dark musical parody, by Second City alum Jenna Friedman, should delight anyone who thinks that the stories of cholera, malaria and war that commonly crop up in American Girl doll narratives are wildly inappropriate for young children—and also pretty funny. The show begins at the Refugee Girls Club, where newcomers Katrina and her sister Rita are introduced to the complete Refugee Girl doll collection through song, dance and hilariously twisted social commentary. The cast works together brilliantly as a well-oiled comedic ensemble, some even donning braces to accessorize their roles as prepubescent girls. As smart as it is amusing, The Refugee Girls Revue uses off-color humor to suggest that, although we're no longer living in a time of cholera, our dolls (and we) still have a hell of a lot to endure.

And hey, they're even using quotes from my review to promote it. BIG TIME, people. BIG TIME.


Wednesday, August 27, 2008

What's More Evil?

What's more evil:

a.) Coming up with an ad campaign that attempts to trick people into thinking that cigarette smoking can be organic and healthy
b.) Ordering products from an unsuspecting all-organic company to be used in said cigarette campaign
c.) Who cares because I have no soul

d.) All of the above

I don't know why I ever avoided a career in advertising in the first place. It fits my personality so well.

PS: That someecard has been printed out and taped to my computer monitor since my third day of work. It keeps me honest. Well, not really.


Tuesday, August 26, 2008


It's going to be so trashy/awesomeeeeeeeeeeee

Friday, August 22, 2008

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

If there was one thing I didn't like about my job, I'd have to say it's the location of our office. Ever since Guiliani's reign as mayor, everyone asks where are the city's homeless people went.

Yeah, well, I can tell you: they're all outside of my office, next to the Halal foreign meat cart that is cooking up babaganush at fucking 9am everyday. Mmmmmm, I'm sure that'll taste really good by noon.

So it's a rough neighborhood, and as such, there are very few options for lunch. There's a pizza place that I frequent and a place called The Food Depot, which I refuse to eat at because I don't want to eat at a place that sounds like a textile warehouse.

While walking to the subway the other day, a co-worker stopped to take a picture of what we pass on the way to work every morning:

Let's take inventory: a smashed 40oz, a crumpled up pack of Parliaments, and extensive exposed wiring. That pretty much sums up the neighborhood. Luckily my apartment is in the very beautiful Park Slope area of BK.

Oh, Hell's Kitchen. You so nasty.

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So Long, Summer Hours

So all summer (ie: the entire span of my employment) our office hours (for the marketing/sales department anyway) have been Monday-Thursday, 10am-5pm, and Friday 10am-3pm.

Today, my boss sent out an email reminding us that summer hours officially end on September 1.

Since I tend to get to the office at around 9am and stay until around 5:30/6ish, this change in hours isn't really going to affect me as much as my other co-workers, one of whom sent a reply to the entire department, including my boss, that said this:

"WAH WAH," accompanied by this photo:


Thursday, August 21, 2008


Last week at lunch, my co-workers decided that I drink too much soda and that they should have an intervention. As most interventions go, they started off by saying things they like about me. One
co-worker said, "I like that when I say "good morning" to you, your response is to throw up various gang signs."


Word up?

So, after perusing the free shelf, said co-worker presented me with T
hug Nation, a compilation rap album of today's "hottest" hip hop artists. It suits me, she said.

Pretty much.


Saturday, August 16, 2008

Tommy Chong: Jail- It's not so bad

Tommy Chong, of Cheech & Chong stoner fame has written a new book with Simon & Schuster. I got invited by one of the editors I've stayed in touch with since my internship there, and let me say that I was delighted when I received this invitation:

The book release party was held at Chris Noth's club, The Cutting Room. The drinks were free and they were serving brownies topped with oregano. During his big speech, Chong talked about how he got sent to jail for selling drug paraphenalia but said that it wasn't that bad. Good to know.

For some reason, there was a fortune teller there, so my friend Abi, who is accompanying me to all of these events nowadays, made me get my palm read. Apparently, I'm going to get a promotion soon, and
I've been dating all the wrong MEN.

I told this to Abi who immediately choked on her drink, while the editor from S&S looked a little confused.

"It's funny because I'm a DYKE," I said.

Obviously, I'm really professional- always.

The three of us ended up at McDonald's and it was perhaps the worst decision ever.

The good that came out of this was that we got a photo to send to Marist's Career Services. Since I've joined the Alumni Career Network, I feel it's my duty to let my former classmates know of any job opportunities:

Hey- it's a jungle out there. Good luck, guys.


Blogger's Choice Awards!

Okay, so apparently, I was nominated for a few categories in the Blogger's Choice Awards. I stumbled across this today and it says that I nominated myself, but I honestly don't remember doing it. Maybe I did it when I was drunk. Whatever.

I've been nominated for Best Humor Blog, Best Pop Culture Blog (which really doesn't make any sense to me), Most Obnoxious Blogger, and Best Entertainment Blog.

So vote for me, or something.

My site was nominated for Best Pop Culture Blog!

My site was nominated for Best Humor Blog!

My site was nominated for Best Entertainment Blog!

My site was nominated for Most Obnoxious Blogger!


Thursday, August 14, 2008

Suck it up and spin

I've mentioned that I started taking a spin class at my gym. This is because I've realized that I can lazily pedal on an elliptical for four hours a day, but unless I step it up and actually work out, I'm not going to get anywhere. For those of you who aren't familiar with spinning classes, they're the really intense cycling classes where they shut you in a really cold room with the lights off, blast techno music, and scream at you as you bike up about 753 imaginary hills.

My instructor is kind enough to leave a garbage can in the middle of the room in case you have to throw up.
There are up to five spinning classes you can take in any given week, but because they're either at 7pm on weekdays or 10am on weekends, I've been missing them more and more frequently.

On Monday, I forced myself to go, even if it meant rushing in after work, spinning like there was no tomorrow, running home to take a shower, and then meeting up with my friend Tim for a late dinner at 9:30.

So I'm in class, and my instructor shows up to tell us that she was feeling a little sore because when she was riding her bike on the street to class last week, she got hit by a car. Let me say that again: SHE GOT HIT BY A CAR. Not only that, she got hit by this car, picked up the mangled remains of her bike, and went to the gym to teach her spin class.

If I hadn't been sleeping, or eating, or watching The Golden Girls at the time, instead of actually going to class, I would have insisted that she go to the hospital.

Honestly- this puts everything into perspective. Oh, you're too tired to go to spin class because you went out last night and had 17 drinks? Your instructor got hit by a car.

Oh, you worked late and you don't feel like rushing to class and all you want to do is eat ice cream and watch Law & Order? Yeah, well, your instructor got hit by a car.

Suck it up and spin, d-bag.


But Not Funny "Ha Ha"

Overheard on the F Train:

A 60-year-old woman with no teeth (seriously, no teeth) dressed like a hipster is loudly chatting with her wannabe gangsta son. And when I say "chatting," I mean loudly screeching.

Gums McGhee: You're lucky I don't have my teeth in! I'd bite you good!
Slim Shady: Ma- Imabout to end yo life. End yo life right here on the F train.
Gums McGhee: (frightening cackle) That'd be funny- spending the last few moments of my life on the F train.


Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Weekend Recap: Ayayayayayay!

I didn't get into Boston until very late on Friday night, and their subway line closes at midnight.

I really don't mean to be an arrogant New Yorker, but really? Midnight? I may have to wait for the F train for 45 minutes, but at least it runs all night. Sure, closing public trans
portation at midnight may cut down on alcohol-related crimes and debauchery, but who cares about shit like that? I NEED TO GET DRUNK.

Well, whatever.
After I got in, we went back to Gabe's house and did a power hour to Disney songs. Some things never change.

On Saturday, we headed into Boston to spend our night at Limelight, an intense karaoke bar in the theatre

There was a stage.

There were stage lights.

There was a microphone stand.

The people performing seemed to have planned their routines.

The people were intense, which made it all the more difficult to belt out "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" by Celine Dion.

But, of course, we did it anyway.
The best way to recap this night is the classic play-by-play, so here goes:

9:04pm: We are walking through the theatre district, looking for a place to get cheap drinks before we head to Limelight.
9:08pm: We decide on a blue collar bar called The Tam. It's $3.50 for a pint of Bud Light and you have to ask the bartender for a key to the bathroom. Clearly, the classiest place we've been to in awhile.
9:12pm: Beer #3 (I had two at dinner)

9:27pm: Beer #4
9:42pm: Beer #5
9:58pm: We decide to get wings from the pizza place next door to the bar.
10:04pm: When I order my wings, I make a point of mentioning that I would like my wings mild- I say it twice.
10:15pm: Why haven't we gotten our wings yet?
10:18pm: Scott's buffalo tenders are ready, but they made them plain instead of buffalo. Scott says he wants buffalo tenders, and the "cook" proceeds to dump a gallon of hot sauce onto the plain tenders.
10:25pm: My wings are done.
10:26pm: Apparently, "mild" in Boston means "ON BURNING FIRE."
10:27pm: Because I am from Buffalo, I get personally offended when I get bad wings.
10:30pm: I am reduced to wiping the hot sauce off of each wing with a napkin.

10:32pm: Scott is not eating his buffalo tenders
10:33pm: Gabe thinks the wings are great and wishes we would stop being such babies.
10:43pm: We head over to Limelight.
10:53pm: Mixed drinks are $8, but after Kari and I observe the bartender filling the pint glass to the top with alcohol and adding juice a splash of juice, we go for the mixed drinks over the beer.
10:54pm: Tequila Sunrise #1
11:07pm: We are laughing as we remembered earlier in the day when we were talking about P. Diddy's new reality show, "I Want to Work for Diddy." I observed that all of the people who work for him have ridiculous names, like "Cadbury Briefcase."

11:15pm: I sign us up to sing Celine Dion after we find out that they don't have our standby, "All or Nothing" by OTown.
11:20pm: A girl is onstage singing Celine Dion. She has a really good voice.

11:23pm: Girl finishes her rendition of "Because You Loved Me."
11:24pm: "Will Cadbury Briefcase please come to the stage."
11:25pm: Typical.
11:26pm: We are singing "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" and sucking up the joint.

11:28pm: We realize this song is nine minutes long.
11:29pm: We realize the crowd is strangely into it.
11:30pm: The crowd is waving their hands along to the music.
11:32pm: Tequila Sunrise #2
11:34pm: Some woman who was large and in charge is on stage singing a song called "Stroke It." As her song ends, she says "Please refrain from singing any more Celine Dion songs."
11:35pm: We are insulted.

11:37pm: A girl is onstage doing sign language to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn."
11:45pm: The bachelorette party is getting out of hand, and there is a fatty onstage with a gigantic inflatable penis.

12:07pm: Tequila Sunrise #3
12:14pm: Scott and Gabe are onstage singing "California Girls" by the Beach Boys.

12:35am: I come back from the bathroom to find Kari, Scott, and Gabe onstage, rapping to "Forgot About Dre."
12:36am: I am thankful those sassy black girls who performed "The Thong Song" earlier with much enthusiasm and booty shaking have left, ensuring that we won't get punched in the face.

12:37am: The entire place clears out while they're "rapping."
12:45am: The entire night deteriorates into this (for the record, I don't know anyone on stage besides Gabe)

The bar "ran out of liquor" an
d will only serve us beer. This is probably because I had morphed from a valued customer into a liability.
1:00am: The lights come on and Limelight is closing.
1:07am: We are walking the streets of Boston, screaming lines from "Beauty & the Beast."
1:15am: We are in the backseat of a cab, screaming "ayayayayay" over and over.
2:04am: We arrive at Gabe's and pass out after screaming various 8th grade level Spanish phrases over and over.

And although I didn't take many pictures during the weekend, I feel like these few sum everything up:


Megabus Megasucks

So as I mentioned, I spent this past weekend in Boston for a wing/karaoke night reunion with my friends Kari, Scott, and Gabe. More posts to follow on the ridiculousness of the weekend, including an especially absurd video clip of a karaoke rendition of "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy."

But for now, I'd like to bitch about my method of getting to Boston. I decided to take the Megabus to Boston because, well, it is so fucking cheap. A round trip ticket to Boston from New York cost $32. My dinner on Saturday night cost more than $32.
My father, the snob that he is, was upset that I was taking the bus as he said that I would be surrounded by derelects and low lives. Well, sorry, YOUR MAJESTY, I am on a budget and flying or taking the train would be way too expensive, especially when all I want to spent my money on is booze and good food.

One of my co-workers told me that she got lice when she took the bus and my boss told me that buses are the most dangerous mode of transportation. When I asked her where she was getting this statistic and she screamed something about how all of the drivers are drunk, handicapped, or both.

Whatever. You can't beat 30 bucks.

When I got on the Megabus, however, I was pleasantly surprised at first. It was clean, air-conditioned, and it had free WiFi. The people on the bus weren't scumbags, but people my age who couldn't afford anything as ritzy as Amtrak.

The driving, however, was another story. My boss was right. I felt like I was going to die. I emailed her the following SOS message from my phone:

My Boss


Megabus Megasucks

There are no seatbelts and the driver is Stevie Wonder. Death is imminent. See you never.

Her response was "Must you give me a heart attack while I'm on my vacation?"

I guess I got what I paid for.

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Monday, August 11, 2008

Back Tracking: Thursday Night at the Porn Circus

Last week, my boss handed me a brochure that had a picture of a scantily-clad woman lying provocatively across a velvet ottoman. ABSINTHE was written across the top in green letters.

"Do you want to go to this event?" she asked. I had RSVPed for her earlier but she couldn't make it.

Free entertainment, no matter what it is, is a-okay with me because a.) I'm kind of broke and b.) my boss gets invited to some pretty swanky parties, so I said yes and brought my friend Abi (of "The Odd Couple" and "Fuck Da Rest" blog entry fame) along.

The event was being put on by Spiegel Tent, a traveling circus-type company at the South Street Seaport. We do a lot of events down there but I had never been there myself, and let me just say that the view was absolutely amazing.

The show amounted to a really, really raunchy version of Cirque de Soleil and when a girl was naked, pushing herself into a giant balloon on-stage, Abi whispered to me, "what kind of events does your boss send you to?"

Strip shows, mostly.

Afterwards, they were serving absinthe cocktails, which I didn't even think was possible because I thought absinthe was illegal in the US on account of all of the hallucinogens in it.

The last time I drank absinthe was last summer when I was in Italy and I ended up on the floor of my hotel room in Venice.

Of course, I'm not one to learn from my mistakes, so I had two absinthe cocktails.

Sitting at a table by the river, looking at all of NYC's major bridges all lit up against the skyline, I was once again overwhelmed with the "is this my life?" feeling.

Seriously. I always knew my life would be awesome, but this awesome? Damnnnnnnnnnnn.

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Friday, August 08, 2008

The Return of the All Or Nothing All-Stars

A blog post will soon follow detailing an event for work I went to last night in place of my boss which basically turned out to be a porn circus. Think Cirque de Soliel but topless, and with jokes about sex and various parts of the human anatomy, all amongst the backdrop of the water and the lit up Brooklyn Bridge. Absolutely ridiculous.

But for now, I'll be taking the MegaBus to Boston to meet up with my friends Kari, Scott, and Gabe for a karaoke night reunion. The All-Stars have returned.

More later.

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Saturday, August 02, 2008

5 Reasons Why I Love My Neighborhood

You may or may not know this about me, but I grew up in a very small town outside of Buffalo and thus, never had a "neighborhood." Seriously, the nearest store was a 15 minute drive away. Then I went to college in the beautiful city of Poughkeepsie, which is known for it's trashy residents and strip malls. Yes, Route 9 has every chain store or restaurant you could ever want, but absolutely zero character. Needless to say, by the end of college, I was getting mighty sick of fucking Chilis and Applebee's.

This is why I have such euphoria about moving to my adorable neighborhood in Brooklyn. There's stores! Restaurants! People! I can walk everywhere! What a novelty. I'm sure I'll miss my car at some point, but right now, I could give a fuck less.

Here are some of my favorite things about my neighborhood.

1. Sotto Voce: I could literally fall down the front steps of my apartment building and land inside this cute Italian bistro on the corner of my street. Both my father and my friend Scott can attest to how good their brunch is: an entree of your choice and unlimited mimosas or bloody marys for $12.95.

2. Barrio: Only one block up from my apartment, this Spanish restaurant not only has the best guacamole I've ever had in my life, they have a smoking hot bartender who is always very concerned with how the drinks she makes taste ("are they... bueno?"). Luckily for both of us, they're always outstanding and the atmosphere is amazing. I could sit at the bar and get mighty sloppy, but for $10 a mojito, more often then not, I've had two, gone home to chug some cheap beer, and then gone out for the night. It's a new era of pregaming, my friends.

3. Bank of America Proximities: I switched banks when I moved to the city and decided on Bank of America because there was a Bank of America ATM right by the subway station. I've also found that there's an ATM right near the grocery store, and lo and behold, that construction they were doing on the building across the street from me, was, guess what? A Bank of America. Talk about convienient.

4. Bar Reis: My new favorite bar, which I've mentioned here before has an awesome outdoor patio, reasonably priced drinks, and in true quirky fashion, all of the TVs in the bar are trained to AMC. Always.

5. New York Sports Club: I joined a gym in my neighborhood because I get a corporate discount, and it's pretty swanky and offers free classes with your membership, AND lesbian folk poet Alix Olsen was riding the stationary bike next to me this morning.

There are many more reasons, I'll keep you posted as they come to mind, because, hey, I know you care.