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Cover of “Islands in the Stream” by Constantines Featuring Feist

You think it’s going to just be this big irony fest, but it’s actually quite pretty.

[ Topic Pop Culture, Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Open Letter to People Writing To or About the Band “Gossip”

“Unless she has five arms, I don’t give a shit how she looks.”

Please, sirs, stop mentioning Beth Ditto’s size as though it matters even a little bit.

Even announcements of shows they are going to play seem to mention her size. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a pseudo-politically correct gesture of diversity or if it’s typical media fixation over the appearance of a woman who is larger than a size 5.

I know Beth Ditto quite openly talks about her weight and sexuality, but it doesn’t seem like the focus is on her sexuality either, just her size, followed by her feminism and then usually some mention of her powerhouse vocals and then maybe something about punk and perhaps if there is room mention of Arkansas or OlyWa.

If I had my druthers, anything written about them would start with her vocals, then give some credit to Nathan Howdeshell and Hannah Billie, and then talk about their music and such. Then mention the feminism and outspokenness.

It might seem to some that I am trying to gloss over or hide her size as though it’s something of which to be ashamed. But really, unless she has five arms, I don’t give a shit how she looks. And when D. and I saw them open for (The Jon Spencer) Blues Explosion at Maxwell’s, she didn’t. So kindly fuck off, media-types.

Thank you.

[ Topic Pop Culture, Ridiculosity, Society | No Comments ]

A Proposal for Men Who Date Younger and or Crazier Women

“Men start running around with their hands in the air, like “Oooohhhhh…”

Now that many of us are in our early, mid or late thirties (or older), some of the males are trending towards dating younger women, i.e. females 10+ years their junior, or crazy women of any age.

This has been happening since the dawn of time and occurs for many completely understandable reasons. Younger women are appealing for their inexperience, bubbly energy, hero worship, firm, supple bodies and alleged lack of baggage and bitterness that reportedly comes with age, while crazy women are frequently hot and supposedly amazing in bed. Like, holy shit amazing. Like guys get a look on their faces while thinking about it.

This is fine until the young and/or crazy woman does something immature and/or crazy because well, she is young and/or totally fucking crazy, which we all knew from the get-go, and then the men start running around with their hands in the air, like “Oooohhhhh, what the hell is happening?”. And then we older ladies can’t help but think, “Whoa, I hope she was fucking mind-blowing (and other kinds of blowing) in bed because she sure is flipping out now!”

[To clarify, by "crazy", I'm not talking about the seemingly quirky but sweet woman who suddenly stalks you. I am talking about the blatantly nuts, screams and removes her clothing in bars type of crazy, and I believe you guys know of whom I speak. There is a name for guys who are solely attracted to these types: Nut Fuckers.]

Here’s my proposal: men, if you knowingly are dating a younger and/or crazier woman, and she does something a young or crazy person might do, please share your complaints and bitching only with your other male friends, who can properly sympathize and empathize. In return, we women will refrain from telling you about the exploits of our asshole/unfaithful boyfriends (though I’ve generally bucked both trends) about whom you tried to warn us.

[ Topic Neuroses, Ridiculosity, Society | No Comments ]

Home Is Where the Emo Is

Everyone sitting here saw this flyer and thought to themselves:

“I am a hipster and I want to buy a house.”

Needless to say, the sign made me do a double take and cheered me up immensely.

[ Topic Housing, Ridiculosity, Society | No Comments ]

“Yes, It Is Conceivable That We Could” - Opus Moreschi

Please go to Moveon.org and vote for this 30 second Obama spot that my friend Opus had barely anything to do with. I don’t know what you get if you win but he desperately needs some joy in his life. Plus he always wears a suit and tie for no reason and it’s fucking adorable.

Vote here.

[ Topic Politics, Politics, Etc. | No Comments ]

I Laugh Every Time I See A Humvee

7 MPG. Ha ha ha ha.

[ Topic Environment, Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Stupidity Still Reigns in Cari Land

I had a primo opportunity to chat with a guy and instead I just kept walking. And yesterday, I could have shown interest on an escalator and blew it.

Honestly, I panic. A little, mini, teeny tiny, makes dust particles look huge, quark-sized panic attack. I’m walking around fine and confident and happy and then I see a cute guy and my brain goes all DefCon 4.

Someone, please abduct a loved one of mine and threaten to do them harm unless I talk to these men (but obviously not actually harm them). I suggest R. or L. because he’s hilarious and she’s fascinating. But if you want to discuss foreign policy or quantum mechanics with your hostage, there’s no better abductee than K.

I would suggest you provide some snacks and light refreshments for your hostage. Maybe some fruit and cheese or crudites (served with Jo’s Miso Carrot dressing) or, even better, cupcakes. With butter cream frosting. And for a cold treat, one can never go wrong with Tofutti Cuties. They are de-fucking-licious! Seriously. I want to eat the whole box in one sitting, but I limit myself to two (they are petite).

I recommend you stock craft beer for R., scotch for L. or white wine for K., preferably a chablis, perhaps a bottle of the 2006 William Fevre Les Clos Chablis Grand Cru?

As far as entertaining your hostage: R. likes independent and foreign films, particularly those of the Parker Posey and/or Christopher Guest variety. And “Irma Vep”. And Werner Herzog. Or Flight of the Conchords.

L. loves the band The Faint and books like “A Confederacy of Dunces” by John Kennedy Toole or ”At-Swim-Two-Birds” by Flann O’Brien (the nom de plume of Brian O’Nolan). Be careful because she can probably drink you under the table and escape. And she got a degree in Economics from Yale so she can probably out-economize you, too.

K. adores The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, P.G. Wodehouse novels [more Psmith (the “P” is silent) than Jeeves], non-fiction like “The Federalist Papers”, anything Ricky Gervais, anything Dame Helen Mirren. Films like “Gosford Park” and “Local Hero”. Warning: K. will probably outsmart you and correct your grammar in one fell swoop. Bonus: she’s very tidy.

[ Topic Ridiculosity | No Comments ]

Trains and Glory Days

“As usual, I used a Jedi mind trick to prevent him from trying to make my acquaintance.”

Last week, this East Village looking guy got on the train and sat between these two girls who were reading celebrity gossip magazines. By the smell of him, I’d say he was a stalwart fan of the vodka. Mid-trip, he abruptly rose and informed the young ladies that if he remained seated between two women reading shit magazines, he would scream. Then he sat down near me, I suppose because I was reading The Onion (which isn’t funny since they lost the head writer to The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, but I sure like their crossword puzzles. And horoscopes.). As usual, I used a Jedi mind trick to prevent him from trying to make my acquaintance. It worked.

Tonight, I overheard this couple talking animatedly about their nose piercings and a (previously unknown to them) girl chimed in with anecdotes and advice of her own. It was a circle jerk of valley girls (and boy) frankly sounding like college freshmen time traveling from the 90’s, by way of the cast of “Clueless”. I will say for them that they seemed awfully pleased with themselves. There’s always room for joy in the world.

There was a quasi-hipster with full beard next to me and I thought we were going to have a moment, a shared smirk at the expense of our valley compadres. Instead, he texted someone. I understand that impulse because one time I was eating lunch at Moto and overheard this guy tell a girl that he wears “a lot of Japanese denim” and I immediately dropped everything to text my brother. The quasi-hipster had these interesting tattoos near his thumbs. The left hand had a hand and the right…I couldn’t see clearly, it seemed sword-like.

I also can’t be overly critical because I used to have my septum pierced (the hole is still there), but as it was a bead ring in the middle of my nose, I didn’t have their cornucopia of problems with watery eyes, or painful incidents involving her cat waking her with its paws on her nose, or mishaps taking off his shirt.

Back then, my hair was this amazing bluish-purple color. People used to ask me which dye I used and I lied because I didn’t want them to wear my color. [It was a mix of Plum and Blue-Black. NOT Punky Colors though because that shit did not even work.] Blue washes out rather quickly, so it was hard to maintain prime purpleness.

Ah, youth.

[ Topic Neuroses, Pop Culture, Ridiculosity, Society | 1 Comment ]

I Can’t Tell If My Funny Is Working Anymore

[Warning: The default volume on this seems loud to me. And pause it before the commercial plays at the end. Also, when the fuck are they going to learn how to normalize between skits and commercials. I think Comedy Central and others are guilty of this, too. Though I think if you're using Safari with ad blocker, the commercial can't play.]

I am worried that everything I find hilarious is actually quite stupid.

You tell me:

..

Holy Shit. No one does crazy like Kristen Wiig.

[ Topic Ridiculosity | 1 Comment ]

A Calendar Wherein I Allude Vaguely to Things Unnamed

“It’s like Spock writing Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

Friday I had another episode on the subway of finding someone attractive and trying to signal my attraction and interest by making eye contact and smiling but instead finding myself again unable to look at him at the same time that he was so blatantly looking at me and I somehow only managed to smile at the floor.

Saturday I realized that I had made the fatal mistake of trying to judge something about which I knew too little. As it happens, I had misjudged someone’s handling of a situation. On the surface, the rightful course of action was simple and straight-forward. I thought he was being too nice and forgiving but after I met the other person I understood better and think he made the right decision.

Saturday I also realized that, though I still do not believe in love at first sight, there is someone with whom I felt an instant affinity that went beyond mere attraction. I don’t know if it’s timing or abandonment issues or that he just flips all my switches or what. We probably have nothing in common and would make each other rather miserable. He will think I am fat and weird and I will find him annoying. It’s been so difficult trying to get to know him. Surely that’s a sign of wrongness? Every time I see him I look for reasons why I’m being ridiculous and hormonal and overly romantic (too many Jane Austen novels?) and why he’s stupid and incompatible and impossible and every time I see him a small voice inside pipes up and says, All those things are true and I could love him. This is especially painful because I pride myself on rationality. It’s like Spock writing Bridget Jones’ Diary. It’s quite awful. So I’ve resigned myself to maybe always loving him a little and trying to just live my life around it, like living with a ghost in your house. Maybe I can write a romance novel about it. Maybe a shitty Rom-Com starring J.Lo as me.

Sunday I realized that lots of men find me quite attractive and I could even love some of them (plus my ghost) but that life is complex and convoluted and confusing and crazy and a lot of other words beginning with the letter “C”, just like my name.

Monday I am hung-over.

[ Topic Neuroses, Ridiculosity | No Comments ]