Office Appropes?

One of my coworkers has moved all of his toiletries into our unisex bathroom. He has personal air freshener, a toothbrush, toothpaste, Listerine, his own soap, and so on. I think this is so weird. We've all been known to keep some extra clothes in our desk -- I definitely have some deodorant in mine. He also took the cordless phone...the one I always talk on...into the bathroom with him. I Lysolled it.

Inappropes no?

WYSIWYG TONIGHT!

Tonight, come hear me regale you with my own tales of prom trauma. What's better than hearing how traumatizing prom was for the effing prom queen?

Tuesday, May 23, at 8:00 p.m.
aT the Bowery Poetry CLub
308 Bowery @ Bleecker

Tickets: $7

212.614.0505

Come join the WYSIWYG Talent Show at its brand new home at the Bowery Poetry Club! Doors will open at 7:30 to give you time to grab a drink before the show.
All ages can enter, but you've got to be 21 or older to drink.

Featuring:

The Vandervoorts
www.geocities.com/vandervoorts
(Featuring Mark from everythingbut.org and Yung-En from MisterChen.net (also Dorothy, who doesn't blog but does the awesome web comic CatandGirl.com, and Emma, who doesn't blog at all but is entirely awesome as well!)

Lang Fisher
dirtyoldpromqueen.blogspot.com

Fiffe
www.fiffe.com/diary

Jason Boog
thepublishingspot.com
jasonboogshow.blogspot.com

Nichelle
nichellenewsletter.typepad.com

Jess Hulett
blindcavefish.com

I Am Definitely NOT This Kind of Teacher

Thanks Liam for this article about a Texas teacher who asked his principal for permission to take a 17 year-old student to prom under the guise that he was a "family friend." Smooooooooooooooooth moooooooooooooooooove, Sean! I mean honestly way to keep your statchy rapey secrey all locked up and then drop the key right into the authorities' Trapper Keeper, you know? And what if he had been crowned king? Scandalous!

Shockingly, the principal, concerned that more might be going on, decided to look into the relationship between the sleazebucket and his lolita...and things had definitely moved past the Whoopi Goldberg - Lauren Hill mentor-mentee relaysh into a Patrick Swayze-Jennifer Grey rebellious, naked, flying, dancing skinpalooza. Grode. Thusly, no corsages, no slow dances to Mary J., no photos, no punch, no crown, no prom for this totally inappropriate couple. Frown.

Don't worry Sean, I'm sure that Jose "Deez Guns" J in cell block six will go with you to the Houston County Jail's Winter Formal. This year, the theme is "Starry Nights and Shiv Fights."

IN OTHER NEWS:

A 10 yr-old girl from my hometown of Pensacola, Florida crashed into a couple of cars and a fire hydrant, when she stole her guardian's SUV. She also apparently threw a toddler and a 5 year-old in the back. It seems like she was playing the ultimate game of house. I wonder if she was pretending to run errands? Here are my top 5 guesses to where this child was driving:

1) Candy Store
2) Toy Store
3) Disney World
4) Fantasia
5) Jiffy Lube

But the most hilarious part of the article was this quote from the Escambia County sheriff's Dept:

She was so little she had to go down and hit the gas and pop her head back up to see where she was going.

Isn't that cayuuuuuuuuute!! That's how my friend Julia drives, too!

I Couldn't Tear Myself Away

The other night, I decided to stay in and have a night to myself in front of the telly. I ordered in some chinese food, got myself comfy, and started surfing my hundreds of Time Warner channels, pausing briefly on my favorites like Discovery Health and the Food Network. Discovery Health was broadcasting a show about face-eating tumors that I had already seen, while the Food Network was showing Emeril (love Emeril's food, not crazy about the show).

Hence, I moved on, my thumb bouncing lightly on the Channel Down button, until...it stopped. I had found it. The movie of my dreams - and the dreamweaver was Lifetime. The film, if I may be so bold, was your typical Lifetime movie: a story about a young high school girl, who is dating an ultra-popular yet ultra-abusive boy, yet she is so myopic about his popularity and "being in love" that she fails to notice that he beats her all the time and is an insane maniac.

Now, you may all be thinking, "what is wrong with Lang? Why would she enjoy this?" Well, folks, because the abusive boyfriend was Fred Savage and the abused girlfriend was Candace Cameron. Literally, Kevin Arnold was a-beatin' on DJ Tanner. The plot is as follows: takes virginity, tells her he loves her, becomes insanely jealous all the time, is abusive, still manages to be the best athlete on the WRESTLING team, and then, in the end, he kills her when she tries to break up with him, but all as the characters of Kevin Arnold and DJ Tanner (I'm lying).

SO, THIS GUY
+
THIS GIRL

=
SERIOUS VIOLENC...buuuuuut they're sooooo cute -- look at em! Awwww.


Equally as horrible as the subject matter of this movie are the mid-90s outfits. A lot of tapered jeans and oversized flannels. Gots to love that Lifetime though.

I Might Be this Kind of Teacher

This poor teacher. So, he was curious about how his students would commit murder? Isn't learning all about asking questions? Difficult questions? He must just be in a really conservative school district, because when I assigned to my English class an essay entitled "How would you make love to your English teacher?" parents were thrilled. They said, "Way to be! Way to make em think!" JK.

Fancy shmancy

My tutoring student's prom is at the Waldorf and she is wearing a Roberto Cavalli dress. Being a NYC kid is so fancy. It is so grown up. I bet they spike their punch with Belvedere instead of Pabst. And Afterprom is probably at Lotus rather than Stickybuns Bowling Alley. Ahh, to be a New York City teenager. And they will never understand the beautiful mediocrity of growing up anywhere else.

Extra! Extra!

Guess who made her major motion picture debut on Tuesday night? Meeeeeeeee!!!!

Yours truly is going to be starring (as an extra) in the next Hugh Grant/Drew Barrymore movie Musics and Lyrics By. I play the role of Jessica, an ex-commando from the Israeli army and puggle enthusiast. Jessica just recently broke up with her Norwegian fiance, Jherk (pronouced Y-ur-hik), after she found out that he was stealing funds from the Museum of the American Indian. With nowhere to go and nobody to call, Jessica hit the streets and began playing her accordion for nickels. One blustery July afternoon, Fabrique (played by Jon Friedman) a high-powered record exec, who has a tattoo of a penis on his penis, overheard Jessica wailing through the last stanza of "Cold-Hearted Snake" on her accordion and thought to himself, "This is the new sound that I've been looking for!" He signed her immediately and, a week later, they were working on her first single "Irene, the old man with a dream."*

Anywho, keep this backstory in mind when you see Jon and me in the shot at the post-Grammy party. Using this backstory, it will be obvious to you, as you look over Hugh's shoulder to see us conversing at the bar, that this is when Jessica and Fabrique discuss the prospect of Jessica shooting her first music video in the nude (aside from her accordion). Musics and Lyrics By will not be out for a while, maybe a year or so and this shot in the film might be less than a minute, but the struggles that Jessica and Fabrique overcame will thrill audiences until the end of time.

P.S. how many of you have been extras? And how douchey are most of the people who are extras? I have never heard so many stories about dropping out of SUNY schools to pursue modelling. I wish I could drop out of a SUNY to pursue modelling.


* Irene, The Old Man with a Dream

I'm an old man with a dream
I'm an old man named Irene.
I'm 90 and one lung has gangrene.
But I dream and I dream.
About making the Mets Team.
One day I'll meet the queen.
Oh I dream and I dream.

When I get older, I'll be an astronaut.
As your family doctor, I'll wipe your babies snot.
I could be a dancer a-tappity-tap.
Pay no attention to my cancer, a-zippity-zap.

I'm an old man with a dream
I'm an old man named Irene.
I won't give up 'til I've kissed Martin Sheen.
But I dream and I dream.
About singing with Celine,
And driving a truck with ice cream.
Oh I dream and I dream.

Uh Oh

Has anyone else thought it inappropes that the new Dairy Queen coffee beverage is called a Moolatte? Has there not been one person who, while ordering, has had a moment of hesitation and has worried that he might be offending the young person beside him whose father and mother came from Sweden and Nigeria respectively? Was there not one ad exec who said, "You know, the title of our new hit milk-coffee concoction sounds an awful lot like the baby of a biracial union." No one?


What happens if you order two moolattes and they mishear you and then, lo and behold, sitting on your tray is Aisha and Ashanti Goldenblatt?

That's just going to be awkward for everyone.

You better believe that those Michigan white supremacist groups have noticed, and, let me tell you, they are having none of it. If there's one thing that those gun-toting maniacs understand, it's a conspiracy. And if their local white trash ice cream establishment is mixing dark coffee with white milk to metaphorically teach tolerance, then guess who just declared their allegiance to Baskin-Robbins (where you can still eat your vanilly with the barrel of an AK-47)?

Is that what you are doing Dairy Queen? Teaching tolerance? Celebrating diversity? Professing to the youth of this grand nation that we should all love another in spite of our differences? Well, okay, Dairy Queen!!! Count me in!! Wait, or is it that this is just a hugely retarded oversight on your part?

Stay tuned for Dairy Queen's newest Holland-inspired utra-fruity frozen dessert treat: "The Burly Berry Dykecicle!"

Quick Questions

1) I just bought those Viactiv multi-vitamin chews. Does that make me a) "noony," because I am taking a chewable daily nutritional suppliment for pre-osteoporotic women, or b) childish, because my multi-vitamin is still candy?2) My accountant told me that because of the bottled water craze, people are starting to get more cavities, because unlike tap water, bottled water is not fluoridated. Is this true or is my accountant stoned? Actually, let me rephrase this, because I know that my accountant is stoned. In fact, he definitely didn't tell me this at all, I overheard him whispering it to the overgrown fern in his office. But what do you guys think? Is bottled water a sham?



3) This question is courtesy of Jules. We were watching Discovery Health last night, my favorite channel, and the commercial came on for the 18-hour bra and Jules said to me, "Why does a bra need a time limit? I'm pretty sure I've worn a bra for at least 48, maybe even 72 hours. It's not like deodorant." What happens to a normal bra at the 18-hour mark? (Be creative with this one)

Squirrel: Update

Thanks to Undergrounder for a story about Russian killer squirrels.

The Sounds of Screaming

At approximately 6:30 AM this morning, I heard what I can only describe as blood-curdling screams. Disoriented and drowsy, I looked around my bedroom for my phone, assuming that I would have to call the police, because it sounded as if someone was being stabbed. Right as I found my little Motorola, it occurred to me that the screams didn't sound quite...human?



So, I sat in my bed for a second, listening to these ungodly shrieks, wondering what everyone else in the building was thinking. At this point, it was obvious that the sound was coming from outside near our garbage bins. I had come to the conclusion that it was the squawking of an injured bird...an insanely melodramatic injured bird.


But you know how when you first wake up, your logic is totally skewed? I was convinced for about 5 minutes that I shouldn't look outside because if the bird were a raven or a crow, then it would be a bad omen, and I would certainly be bringing about my own untimely death. Once I broke out of this fatigued voodoo state, I reached for my glasses and climbed to the foot of my bed to peer out of the window. Lo and behold, there was no human screaming, no bird shrieking, no raven, no crow, no monster...the screams were coming from...




A SQUIRREL???? And not just any squirrel...a giant squirrel. This squirrel was the size of a cocker spaniel and it was screaming as it hopped from one trash can to another in search of its food. Who knew squirrels made any sound other than little nut-gnawing squeaks and such? So, if it wasn't injured, was this screaming the squirrel's equivalent to 'Whistle While You Work?' Was it making these godawful noises out of pure joy? Maybe for attention, like Bobcat Goldthwait or Peewee Herman or Delta Burke who vociferate their own particular squeaks, grunts, and whinnies. Whatever the reason, it sounded so unnatural coming from this creature. Not unlike the Simpsons episode with the endangered screaming caterpillar. It was tantamount to having a pet bunny serenade you with a Creed power ballad.



What the hell was wrong with this squirrel? And just then, we made eye contact and the little monster became silent. I was certain it could leap to my second floor window. My friend, Leslie, from high school used to tell this story about how she once threw a milkshake into one of those trash cans with the swinging flap cover, and as the flap swung back out, a squirrel flew out of the can and attached itself to her face. Squirrels are m-effing loco. So, I was quietly thankful for my window screen.

Anywho, shortly after our staring contest, this huge beast of a rodent screamed one last time and jumped over the fence into the Brooklyn wilderness. And with nothing but love in my heart, I marveled at her highness, Mother Nature.

MAX!!!

Great show tonight!

MAX!!

7:30 at Mo Pitkins!
Ave. A between 2nd and 3rd Streets

Also performing are these hotties:
Katina
Jeff Kreisler
Will McKinley
Lang Fisher
Matt Little
Shawn and Jenny (Characters)
Jessica Kirson

Yahoo!!!!

Saturday, April 29th

8:30 AM: Wake up and consider in what appropriate attire I will teach.

8:31 AM: Fall back asleep.

9:10 AM: Wake back up, but this time with a start. Freak out because I need to be out the door ASAP so that I am not late for my class.

9:12 AM: Brush teeth, wash face, and put in contacs in one fluid, panicked, propeller motion.

9:15 AM: Appropriate teaching attire, due to my hurried state, becomes mini-skirt, Uggs, oversized sweater, fur vest, driving gloves, beret, side ponytail, fake beauty mark, cape, camouflage bracelet, and feather earrings.

9:18 AM: Get breakfast...or rather a diet coke.

9:20 AM: Small trip as I rush down the stairs to the subway platform. Nobody noticed.

10:00 AM: Class begins.

1:00 PM: Class ends.

1:20 PM: Eye brows get threaded by the nutty Indian woman on the corner, who talks to me about how turning 45 opens up so many possibilities for a woman.

1:22 PM: Hives break out across my forehead from the threading.

1:30 PM: Steal Apricot Scrub from gay boy roommate's superior product shelf in the bathroom to try to exfoliate hives away.

1:35 PM: Idiot!! Hives are much, much worse.

1:36 PM: Move bangs to cover hives.

2:10 PM: Friends come over to watch the last episode of the old school Pride and Prejudice mini-series with none other than the most amazing man alive: Colin Firth. I have a huge girl boner for him.

3:00 PM: Sigh, Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy have finally ended up together.

3:01 PM: Everyone looks at each other. What should we do now?

3:02 PM: We On Demand the new Pride and Prejudice.

3:30 PM: Delivery Indian Food arrives. Yum.

5:00 PM: Sigh, Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy have finally ended up together...again...but this time I think they kissed with tongue.

6:30 PM: Alumni reception for the Varsity Show (annual musical satire about Columbia life in which I performed while I was an undergraduate there) where the guest of honor was Art Garfunkel. Quick aside: Art Garfunkel is a celebrity whose photos were all shot before 1985. I have seen nothing since. So, to my chagrin the man who accepted the alumni award at this reception was not sporting the bright red afro of my dreams, but hardly any hair at all. He was very old. His son, however, might have had an even better red afro than that of Art's glory days.
8:00 PM: Varsity Show. Ahhh memories.

9:30 PM: Intermission??? Holy shit this is a long show. Adorable but so long.

9:34 PM: Still intermission. Was thirsty. And consequently. Michelle and I ended up...ummm..."stealing" is too harsh of a word...borrowing refreshments from...ummm...a uh...orphanage fundraiser that was going on in the same building as the show. Whoops. Hee hee.

9:40 PM: Second half starts.

11:15 PM: The show was 3 HOURS long. Now, off to the old college hangout for margaritas, comraderie, and, if I'm lucky, a roofie in my drink!!

DAWN: dreamtown.