Whoops

It’s been a REAL long time.  Uh oh.  All ten of my fans are probably pissed.

Sorry.  I think the problem is I tried to tweet.  I know its quick and its cool, and pretty soon it will be the only way to know what people are doing.  but it totally paralyzed my need to communicate mundane facts about my life to complete strangers.   I already do that over facebook and this blog… and then I was supposed to TWEET about it?  NUH-UH.

So i’m done tweeting (or opening twitter and reading what Brooke Hogan is up to and then logging off, which is the only thing I used it for),  I’m just blogging.  Maybe I’ll tweet the link to this blog.  But that’s probably even too much for me.

Anyway… i also was thinking about something today as I walked through the streets in flip flops, baggy jeans and no umbrella in the pouring rain:  Why do homeless people always have better rain gear then me?  It’s not fair.  They are always prepared!  Not for snow… in the snow they never have shoes.  And not for summer either… i saw a guy outside my office in three sweatshirts and snowpants this summer.  But they are always ready for rain.   I find it strange.  And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

July, Consider this a warning

Fuck you July.  I told you to watch yo’ self.  So far you have killed my phone and Oscar Mayer.  Thanks for the good weather.  I’ll give you that.  But consider yourself on probation.

I Have a Problem

I think we all know at this point that I kind of  love reality TV, and specifically the bachelor/bachelorette.  So, i would just like to put it out there… I might have a legitimate crush on Ed. Double photos… mistake but it stays.

UPDATE:  Somebody just notified me that this guy looks like a real douche.  And until that happened i had totally forgotten about this post… because I was deep in a bottle of wine when I wrote it. So for those of you who agree that he’s a douchebag, or if you’re my boyfriend… mainly if you’re my boyfriend… I was totally wasted when I wrote this.

Dear June,

Please don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.  Worst. Month. EVER!

I mean it wasn’t entirely terrible,  You did bring us the iPhone update and a few people I like were born within your days, I got to see Mollie and my dad, and ate steak at peter lugars… but even during those few monents of fun… IT FUCKING RAINED.  FYI, people don’t like rain, its depressing and wet and keeps us inside.  It makes people grumpy and they fight and they hate their jobs (even more).

And if the rain wasn’t depressing enough, you started killing people June, and that’s just morally wrong.  I was willing to overlook David Carradine but Farrah, Michael and Billy Mays all in 3 days.  That’s just psycho. And then, just when I thought it was over… you close Cafe Montmatre?  It’s fitting really, that you are the closing month for the place where i discovered  my summer drink (Pinot Grigio) so many years ago.   Way to try and fuck up summer.

I’m cc’ing July on this.  So July, be warned.  If you rain out any shows, kill any icons, or prevent me from bbqing I will come after you.

The REAL Story of the Burning Bush

Growing up as Jew I heard the story of God appearing to Moses as a burning bush many a time.  I always assumed by ‘bush’ the torah meant shrubbary.  Today something happened though, that makes me re-think this assumption.

As I was walking home from the train a crazy and/or drunk man approached me (as they often do) and informed me of this: “My father is dead.  But its okay because he up in heavin’ eatin’ lots of bush”.

You heard it here first… God’s hangin out in heaven with a whole different kind of burning bush.

This is My Coat

So I’m like, not a great dresser.  Jeans (currently ripped in the crotch and fuck yes I am at work), t.shirts (often black), flannels and hoodies.  That’s kind of it.  Like I’m not even a hipster, I”m too lazy to be a hipster.  It’s more like a ten year old boy… with boobs.   But I do have several items of clothing that I get compliments on.

Shockingly people usually like my dresses (I have fucking clue how this happened), my heels, and my jackets.  I have really good jackets, and vests for that matter.  Now I have this one Jacket, it’s so fucking cute.  Every time I wear it people are like “I love your jacket where’d you get it?!” (5 years ago, urban outfitters, thanks Lizz).  Unfortunately that all changes when I turn to walk away and people realize the pleat in the back has come to look like a HUGE VAGINA.  See for yourself:

I mean.  There’s just no mistakin it.  Vagina Coat.

This is NOT Okay With Me

Tina Fey, you and I are in a fight.  I mean I know it may seem from this blog that all I do is watch reality TV and homeless people, but I actually have normal interests, for example I love 30 Rock.  It’s one of the few healthy things I do for my brain.  Between the drinking, the lack of sleeping, the gossip reading, and the non-stimulating working I NEED to laugh at some good, quality, smart humor.

Alas, 30 Rock has not only deprived me of my weekly laugh it has also deprived me of my weekly one liners, my clever Facebook headlines, and my water cooler talk.  The show is taking a 7 month hiatus… supposedly to make room for new programming but probably to make us beg, plead, and cry for more.  Please, it won’t take 7 months.  The season finale was only last week and I’m already doing all of the above.  COME BACK.

“That’s a deal breaker ladies!”

I Finally Get It

I finally get it.  I finally understand these people that don’t touch anything on the train. I understand the woman who puts on her glove just to touch the pole, the man who would rather totter from side to side than touch anything, the parents snapping at their children for leaning their head against the train window…. and while it will NEVER cease to infuriate me, I even understand the ass holes that lean against the pole, taking up the entire thing, rather than touching it.

The other day on the train… there’s this total nut job wandering up and down the car asking for money.  He’s wasted, and teetering, and not bracing himself so with every step its like is this dude going to land on somebody?  Well one of the passengers fucking gives him a yogurt instead of money.  Are you g.damned kidding me?  I get giving him food… but yogurt with no spoon?  That a disservice to all New Yorkers (or at least those who ride the 2 train).  So loony toons starts trying to eat this yogurt, sans spoon.  he is unable to open it and hold on at the same time so he’s like falling all over the fucking place trying to get the yogurt open.  Upon getting it open he digs right in with his hand, missing his mouth as he tries to lick his fingers.  The train jerks and saliva yogurt covered hands to right on the pole.  This routine continued on until he exited the trian… he must have touched like five poles though as he stumbled around trying to eat that yogurt with his hands.  I almost vomited a little in my mouth.

Thanks to that moment holding onto the pole on the train, yogurt, and charity have all been ruined for me.

Never Make Eye Contact

I have a lot of friends that could tell you stories about my first few months in New York and all the dire mistakes I made…   Get your mind out of the gutter!  I’m talking about making eye contact with crazy people.

There was the time I got slapped in the face by a man with nubbins for fingers, the time I was pinched in the ass after some crazy dude told me the tattoo of a naked lady on his arm was a tattoo of me, the time in Tompkins Square Park  a guy told me fat chicks only get boned because people feel sorry for them, the time when… I think you get the picture.

So like I just really try not to make eye contact with homeless people.  It’s a skill I think New Yorkers must master, how to look at a crazy person without them catching you.  And its haaaaaaaaaaaaard.  They can feel it, its what they live for.  That moment of eye contact when the Engage button is pressed and they feel they have the go ahead to sit across from you on the train pretending to shoot you for 45 minutes.

So yesterday as I’m walking to work I’m faced with a dilemma… from afar I can see that there is a crazy man standing on the corner, hand outstretched.  Only from what I can tell, he’s not holding up a cup for money, he’s holding up his middle finger.  Could this be true?!  Could this amazing man being flicking people off at 9am on the corner of 34th and 8th?  I couldn’t look away.  I had to know.  And sure enough.  I not only got the middle finger… as our eyes met, I got a “fuck off” too.  Best. Morning. Ever.

An Open Letter to Kelly Rowland

So, I love Kelly Rowland.  Dilemma is possibly one of the greatest duets of our time.  Trust me, I double, triple and quadruple checked on the train this morning.

So what the fuck is this classy girl, who sang so passionately about only thinking about Nelly… even when she’s with her boo… doing on Bravo’s hot mess of a Project Runway rip off, The Fashion Show.  I mean WHAT THE FUCK.  I can’t think of the last time I saw such boot leg production and programming.

Kelly Rowland is all sorts of right and this fucking show is all sorts of WRONG.  I mean give it up Bravo… you lost, and this show is making you look like a loser.    Here’s some of the changes they’ve made:  There’s a mini challenge hosted by Harper’s Bazaar at the start of every show.  So far I haven’t even been able to pay attention to the challenge because my eyes are busy adjusting to the shitty lighting.  They also, so far, work in teams apprentice style, choosing a team captain who leads the team in showing a collection during the runway portion.  Big difference here is that there’s an audience, the catwalk is (SHOCKER) a triangle, and the models are busted as hell and mostly fat.  A designer from the winning team is picked as the ultimate winner and a designer from the losing team is picked as the ultimate loser.   When they are booted off the show the tag line Isaac Mizrahi uses is “buh-bye darling”.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!  Just STOP.  And the team names?  They didn’t even get to pick them, they are based on the first challenge in which each team had to pick one essential item to design a collection around.  So they are called Team Bolero, Team Tube Skirt, and Team Harem Pants.  I mean.  NO.  This whole show is Team Retarded.

I don’t really even understand what Kelly is doing there.  Clearly she’s the Klum of the show but I’m unaware of what her connection to fashion is except for that she is damn fucking sexy and way classier then Beyonce (it will be interesting to see if Sasha Fierce makes an appearance on the show or if the whole “we support each other still” line is b.s.).  She also sports one of the best weaves in Hollywood.  But other then that, what is she doing there?

Dear Kelly,

Please quit this bitch before it quits you.

Love,

SHT