put him back in jail, please.

everyone's favorite stupid ass is at it again:

"I'd like to see Hillary Clinton be president. It would be nice to see a woman be the actual president and ... this is a way for us to have Bill Clinton be president again, and he did a great job during his term." - 50 Cent

maybe if he would have rapped that, nobody would have caught it. you know, he'd be saying this stupid shit and you'd just assume he was talking about banging bitches again. unfortunately, he said it at a press conference like a tool.

here's a thought: just keep buying guns and pistol-whipping people and leave the politics to someone that makes an iota of sense.

You’re Uncle Harold’s email address is: Harold.

True story, this is what I heard out my window last night:

Car rolls up and double-parks on my one-way street.
Buzzer for the intercom to the apartment across the street.
Lady who is always yelling at her kids, yells out the window, not using the intercom: “Sal, what’s up?”
Sal, an old Italian man: “What’s going on with your dad’s phone? I think it's off the hook again.”
Lady, talking to dad inside apartment: “Dad, look, your phone is off the hook again.”
Lady, yelling outside Sal: “You’re right, it was off the hook.”
Sal: “Ok, tell your dad I am going to call him when I get home.”
Sal gets in car pulls away.

I am not sure this is what Alexander Graham Bell had in mind when he invented the phone. Man, do I love living in the North End.

i can't compete with your tiger beat!

the screamers are my new obsession.

a million reasons these 1970's LA techno punk rockers rule: the frontman is named tomata du plenty, they refused to record an album, they also refused to use guitars, they used to sell out the whiskey-a-go-go and the roxy without any official releases, the lyrics are ridiculous and i just can't stop listening to them.

since there are only bootlegs, i'll make it easy and post up a myspace page with some songs on it and here are a few lyrics for good measure:

There's sixteen reasons why I'm not in vogue,
I can't compete with your tiger beat,
Why don't you jet me to your precious family circle

You don't love me
You love magazines

Is this Apartment House Wrestling?
Another Mad Saga
My Fate has been sealed to a Modern Bride
Was it Fact or Fantasy, Simplicity Patterns?

and here's video of "i'm going steady with twiggy":

iceberg slim. no creative title necessary.

i've been meaning to post about this book for a hot minute, but i kept getting sidetracked by the fact that the cover is so sparkly (joking, joking).

on the real though, iceberg slim is insane. he's a crazy ass motherfucker that grew up in wisconsin and went on to become a rich pimp that constantly found himself behind bars. this all went down in the late 1930's, back when suits were called vines and men really did turn tricks.

iceberg slim's best work, in my opinion, is Pimp: Story of My Life. from hitting whores with wire hangers to going down on the babysitter, iceberg slim has lived an insane life. and he really exemplifies pimp culture, not the watered down bullshit we hear about in rap songs.

if you want a wild ride filled with beat down street pussy, crime, sex, drama and the nitty gritty streets, eat it up. it's just as much a history lesson as a trashy extravaganza.

Just An Update..

Some of you may remember my bout with the less hot than Marky Mark statie about a month or so ago where I was given a speeding ticket. I am proud today to say that I fought the law and MY ASS WON! Thats right. Power to the people bitches.

lord of the little fat kids

there's a huge uproar right now over a new program produced by CBS called "Kid Nation". the cut and dry of it? forty fuckin' kids between the ages of 8 and 15 jammed together in a little town in NEW MEXICO, trying to live together WITHOUT any adult supervision - all filmed so you can get your sick reality TV kicks, you piece of shit!

apparently, having no adults around led (WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT!?) to some of the children "accidentally drinking bleach" and being found with burns on their faces. not only that, apparently the kids had to put in 14-hour days, and CBS is under fire for breaking child labor laws - in NEW MEXICO (who knew they even had laws? i figured it was just an outlaw society). it also looks like the parents of these kids got paid off big time to ship their little tots off to the land of bleach and fire.

anyway, if this doesn't sound like the Lord of the Flies, i don't know what does. the only thing that surprises me is that these forty little fucks didn't eat the fat one. the only thing that remains to be seen is whether or not CBS will actually air this shit because everyone is protesting it. the other thing that remains to be seen is whether or not i will watch it. i'm still not sure.

you got me, PJ

little teaser: Bushwick is Beautiful posted up a new track from PJ Harvey's forthcoming release, White Chalk. the song is called "When Under Ether" and it's a piano-drenched, haunting song that reminds me of the biggest bout of withdrawl.

if this is any indication, White Chalk is gonna eat us all alive on September 24th.

godbless

meet winnie langley, legendary hotness, who celebrated her 100th birthday by smoking her 170,000th cigarette. KUDOS, YOU OLD BITCH!

she had this to say:

"I have smoked ever since infant school and I have never thought about quitting. There were not all the the health warnings like there are today when I started. It was the done thing."

amazing. absolutely amazing. let's have a moment of silence for this piece of old sex.

he's askin for it....

but do NOT stop Mr. Mark Ronson. Yes, he's been down since the early 90's, yes he's dj'd Gucci shows in Paris, yes he's worked on Winehouse and Lily Allen's albums, yes he was born in the u.k. and was raised in n.y.c : now you must hear his latest genius titled "Version".


This shit is so feel good and eclectic, there's a fucking hot ass cover of Spear's "Toxic" which I couldn't even believed I loved...the sounds are mixed and served like pizza during high tea - Check out the video for his latest single "Stop Me" feat. Daniel Merriweather : gonna be stuck in your heads at least all week:



Bop and swoon bitches!

also possibly dead? the dictator.

i can't believe i'm posting this, but it's interesting. if perez hilton is correct, fidel castro is dead.

i'm not as much upset about the fact that castro is (might be?) dead, as i am about the idea that the news was BROKEN BY PEREZ HILTON. i will continue to pray that this is all BS and that i can delete this post in the morning, praying no one has seen it. unfortunately, the drudge report is confirming it too. so long, CASTRO!

the queen is actually dead, apparently.

everyone's favorite crybaby is at it again. that's right, it appears Morrissey really DOES care about the music, or morals, or hating the rest of The Smiths. I'm not sure which.

"Morrissey's publicist has confirmed the artist refused a $75 million offer to tour under the Smiths name in 2008 and/or 2009, with the only mandate being that Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr would be part of the band. The Smiths also declined a multi-million dollar offer to perform in recent years at the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival in Indio, Calif."

you know, this is actually mind-boggling. how much money does this man have to be able to turn down SEVENTY FIVE MILLION DOLLARS? does he dry his tears with hundred dollar bills? does he clean his asshole with fifties?

on the other hand, with every other band from Bush to Van Halen to the Police reuniting themselves in the name of earning a few more bucks, Moz might be onto something here. i'm torn between total respect and total disgust. someone help me?

Street Sweeping Super Sucks (Alliteration Rocks)

So, this was the second time this month my car got towed. After coming back from Puerto Rico and finding it missing the first time, I was glad to hear that it was towed because of a “Moving Vehicles Only-Tow Zone” sign that they put up with only 24-hours notice and that is was not stolen (stupid lazy ass neighbor who doesn’t realize that a) everyone moving into the city has to deal with walking a couple blocks to get their shit in their house and they can’t just tow their neighbors to avoid this and b) I do know where you live #40, welcome to the neighborhood asshole).

Anyways, the point of the story is that I got a ride from the Boston Police twice this month to the tow lot in East Butt Fuck Nowhere. Thus saving me probably close to a $40 cab ride (thanks Boston’s blue) each time. But I did have two different drivers.

Cop #1: Officer Bill: 47 years-young, 11 years on the job, he let me sit in the front seat with him. He’s moving to a new house, we discussed his wife and 4 daughters and how the 13 year-old hates him and the 3 year-old can’t get enough. We even talked about the life of a cop. When we got there, he said he would come in with me to see if he could get the towing fee reduced, and he did. Seriously, I wasn’t even showing any cleavage.

Cop #2: Officer Nyeisha: Early 30s, 2 years on the job. She opened the back door for me and I sat down almost breaking my ass on the hard, un-cushioned, plastic seat (seriously, can’t prisoners get a little comfort?). There was bulletproof glass in between us and about 10 minutes into the ride she asked if I wanted the windows open, which was good timing because I was about to pass out from the build up of my own carbon monoxide. After a fast speed ride without any convo (although she did put the lights on and use that weird honk once to get a car out of the way), she dropped me off at the tow lot, and gave me a smile as I graciously thanked her.

I am going to ask for Officer Bill next time. And I'll even show him my boobs, if he wants to see them.

and on the ninth day, there were pocket shots

ladies, ladies, ladies, something tremendous has happened.

that's right, some modern day albert einstein has created Pocket Shots, delectable little disposable flasks filled with your choice of Vodka, Gin, Tequila, Whiskey and Rum.

imagine it: you no longer have to stuff your bra with nips, flasks or other annoying devices to transport your booze. in fact, this means there's no excuse not to drink everywhere all the time. if your desk drawers aren't filled with these little miracles by noon tomorrow, just clean out your shit and leave. you're 100% fired.

(with thanks to fun vampires)

Cover Your Apples!

It's one thing to put clothes on your dog. Many a little mutt has been seen sporting a Burbury jacket, specialized collar or the seasonal Halloween doggy costume. Frankly, I think the practice of clothing things that otherwise are not meant to be is rigoddamndiculous. It annoys me. So you can imagine my sheer disgust when I heard about Jacqueline Dufresne's Apple Jacket.

Thats right folks, for just $14.50 you too can put a repulsive knit covering on your fucking apples. Seriously people, FRUIT? The depths of American depravity have reached new lows. I just, I have nothing else to say. I'm going to go hang myself.

i have a new obsession

and it is BAD DRAWINGS AND FAN ART.

exhibit A: DOUCHE WARS WITH SWORD


exhibit B: ANGELINA JOLIE - ALLEGEDLY
absolutely amazing. but wait, it gets better...

exhibit C: JOHNNY DEPP

far be it from me to tell people to quit doing something they love. BUT STOP THIS RIGHT NOW UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO SPEND ALL DAY LAUGHING INSTEAD OF DOING MY WORK.

wait, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, this is true art. have a seat, picasso. the real artists are here now.

new zealand....rocks!!!(!)

It has been too long. When is the last time you saw (gritty New York, poor white people, unassumingly hip imports who are so dumb it's adorable and clueless sleazy managers holding very official band meetings in their wood paneled day job office) something this authentic on tv? I mean I suppose this show is contrasted really well with baller Entourage which precedes it on Sunday evenings - but it definitely stands alone real well...like a pathetic lovable underdog who has more to say than he himself even knows.

Watch Flight of the Conchords kids....
several puffs of smoke (like 4 out of 5)
~~~~

"Grool... I meant to say cool and then I started to say great. "

In honor of Lindsay Lohan doing well in rehab and me going to the bar in lieu of the gym, I decided to watch Mean Girls for the first time in a while last night. I had missed spending time with Cady (not Catty), Regina George, that girl from Party of Five, and Karen, the best portrayed dumb-as-a-door-knob blonde in a while. While watching the witty, funny, painfully accurate recount of high school, I noticed how much I miss LL’s old self. She was gorgeous in her pre-coke, pre-ano days: wavy red hair, great boobs, a smokin’ bod. And she could even act. Hopefully she’ll rebound nicely. She should, she’s still only like 21 or something.

say something perfect

Baby, come over, I need entertaining
I had a stilted, pretending day
Lay me down and say something pretty
Lay me back down where I wanted to stay
Just say something perfect, something I can steal
Say, look at me
Baby, we'll be fine
All we've gotta do is be brave and be kind

indie music was created for rainy days, and basically no other time. unless you're depressed on a sunny day, in which case you are either conor oberst, or something horrible has happened to you, like you've realized everything you've accomplished has only led to doing everything you hate.

in honor of the shittiest day of the summer, and a frontrunner for the shittiest day of my life, i'm listening to the national. specifically, the song "baby, we'll be fine". it's nothing but the soundtrack for a melancholy heart. don't judge me.

three princes tour

This highly anticipated tour is so close I has smell sweat, happiness and booze in my sleep. Girl Talk, Dan Deacon and Green, I mean White Williams are setting the east coast on fire and I cannot wait for their show in NYC. There was a MySpace bulletin calling for design entries - a t-shirt contest! Check out my submission!

Fuck your sandals!! And your shitty songs!!!!

Maybe I am bitchy because I woke up at 6:30am with a headache, the likes of which I haven’t seen since the aftermath of a Tuesday night when we were in the process of downing another shot, as the lights were dimming and they were kicking us out of the bar.

But seriously ladies, please buy the correct size shoes. There is no reason that your toes should be hanging off the edge of your shoes (Ms. Business Woman walking through the Financial District thinking you looked hot this morning with your toes touching the nasty Boston sidewalk funk). It’s disgusting and an eye sore. The half size bigger shoe costs the same amount of money.

I have become very aware of the fact that my size 10 or 11 boats, are just that, size 10 or 11. I realized this after convincing myself to buy the size 9.5 sneakers were so much cuter and daintier than the size 10 and then suffering through continuous blisters on my heels. So now I get shoes that fit. Even if I could buy a size 7 sandal and since my toes are free to go where ever they want off the end and aren’t confined by a snug shoe. Man, do I love flip flops....in a size 10....or 11.

sketch•a•wretch

Lately, I have been doodling while watchng tv, movies, listening to music.



These are dedicated to: Bret Easton Ellis, Dirk Diggler, Woody Allen, Klaxons, Ricki Lake in Hairspray, Greece, Almost Famous, Brian Wood, Sarah Rose and ofcourse Bret Michaels. Enjoy Bitches!

my [dead] husband

a quote from Philip Morris in 1979:

I love cigarettes. It's one of the things that makes life really worth living...Cigarettes supply some desire, some [aspect] of the fundamental human condition. The human equation is always trying to balance itself, and cigarettes play some part in that.

there is something so romantic about this.

old, but perfect

this chick pretty much sums up the way i feel about pickles, but in a slightly more dramatic fashion. ever since i got kicked out of pre-school for refusing to eat these long, green pieces of SHIT COATED IN BRINE, i've known they are my mortal enemy. every boyfriend i've ever had has tormented me with threats of filling my pillows with dills (not dicks, you whore perverts), and i've been terrified.

finally, someone understands my pain. and i'm not talking about maury.

Enjoy. It even made me go awwwweeee

This is what you get when your human raised lioness sees you after living in the wild for a whole year. Damn you you cutest lion I have ever seen in my whole life for making my cold heart a little warmer.

John From Cincinnati

A moment of silence. Yet another genius show by writer David Milch (Deadwood) has been canceled by HBO. JFC took the coveted 9pm Sunday night Sopranos time slot which opened a few months ago. Yesterday it was announced that the show had not picked up enough viewers to continue. My reaction: FUCK! I caught on too late. I only started watching this show on demand (I have RCN not fucking Comcast just for the record, those rat bastards) and caught up on 9 episodes in about 5 days. Pumped to actually watch the show in its normal time slot, I learned that it was the season finale. Much to my dismay I would have to wait for another season. Now I learn that the whole fucking show is canceled. Bastards.

The existentialism that Milch calls "surf noir" touches on religion, extra-terrestrialism and just plain weirdness. IE it MAKES YOU FUCKING THINK. It disgusts me how many television shows out there are allowed to fumble on season after ridiculous season, dumbing down our population till they are reduced to drooling piles of bone and water pissing themselves, getting fatter and fatter in front of their TVs (Anyone see Idiocracy?) Our country is becoming so embarrassingly stupid that they need their entertainment not spoon fed to them, but liquefied and pumped through a god damned iv.

JFC is not only the most thought provoking television series I have ever seen, but it also has an astounding ensemble cast including Luke Perry, Marc-Paul Gosselaar, Rebecca De Mornay, Ed O'Neil and real life surfer Keala Kennelley to name a few. (Thats right, Dylan McKay AND Zach Morris in the same show) I am so dissapointed that JFC is no more. HBO better hope that Entourage continues to top itself, otherwise there is no reason to keep my subscription.

All right you fuckers, go back to watching Everybody Loves Raymond or fucking Friends or whatever the hell the brainless driveling American public watches.

Come on in, the water's great!

Damn if it hasn't been almost been 3 whole months since I last had anything other than fuzz on my TV. Why do I still not have cable, you may ask? Not only does my new roomie not care that we have no contact with the TV world, but I don't want to give in to The Man and let Comcast win this battle. Fuck Comcast. Also, it has been too nice outside (read as: my tv room is fucking hot without an AC) to sit and watch tv. We'll hook it up once the winter blahs hit.

Looking back on it, maybe no TV is a good thing. The last 3 months have been pretty fun. I noticed that I have upped my booze consumption (hey, why go home and stare at the wall, when I can go to the bar and enjoy some booze with friends?). I've made new friends while consuming this booze. I've dated more. I've gotten laid more. I've been outside more. I've read more too (darn that OK Subscription lapsing, but Glamour has been really thick the past few months; and fuck you Dan Browne for making books that I can't put down, but make me pissed every time I finish a 2 page chapter, oh and your endings suck too).

If Law and Order weren't so damn good, I may think about not getting cable when the New England cold hits, and stick to my guns to fuck Comcast. Who am I kidding? Damn you Mr. Big for being on that Law and Order series that I hate, but only watch when you are on. Yeah, I should have cable by November...hopefully there will be a new subscribers deal in September even.

Ahem, Everyone Look at ME now!

In case you are looking for something to rock your lame ass this evening, my band Alchemilla will be playing tonight at The Lizard Lounge in Cambridge just between Porter and Harvard Squares. Show is 21+, doors at 8pm. Alchemilla rocks your face off starting at 11:30.
Thank you that is all.

lemme get brainy real quick

i was in love with t.s. eliot before i even found out he was a virgin until he was 26 years old.

his work reminds me of sitting alone on a train and watching the world pass by; you have no real connection to the things you see, and so they take on new characteristics. you aren't really engaged in anything but there's this stark, sad beauty to everything because it isn't yours. he's especially distant when he writes about women for that reason, describing them with a mix of yearning, terror and fascination that is most likely found in serial killers.

but if you think of eliot's work in the context that you're dead until you fuck someone, it starts to make a little more sense. until you've fucked, you haven't really been touched, moved or altered and you haven't really touched, moved or altered anyone else (bad sex aside).

you can be fingered every day of your life just to orgasm, but until someone is actually inside you, you have no reason to give a shit about them. until you get off of the train and engage the world, it's not yours. it's easy to write about things from the train, from virginity, but it's terrifying to jump into them. and once you bring fear into it, it's even worse because you should spend your life doing what terrifies you, not running from it.

so maybe you're just a ghost until you get off of the train. or get the dick. whatever.

Hold on Mr. West!

He would do this to me right now.

Let's all be honored by his lateness...that he even showed up to this fake shit. The beats in this track make me wanna bang and shimmy! Drop those booties ladies, this is gonna be fall's hot shit. You heard it here first.

Rum Capital of the World (ie: my heaven)

I love Puerto Rico. And it’s not just because it was my first time out of the cube for more than a weekend all year. This is why I heart PR:

• there is a bar with free rum in the Tourist Info Center in the San Juan Airport. I had 3 rum drinks even before we got in the cab to our hotel. And let me tell you they were more than 3 ounces and not in a quart sized baggie
• 2x1 beers and wings (BettsHottie331 is the best traveling partner ever: she had 1 beer, I had 3; and she trash talks annoying girls too!!)
• set cab fares by what zones you travel in: that means I don’t have to get my “he is trying to screw me (and not in the good way)” radar on
• it’s only a 50 cent boat ride and quick cab ride to the Bacardi Factory
• rain forests with hiking and swimming in waterfalls
• white sand, blue water, a comfy lounge chair, all while enjoying a homemade pina colada in a Wendy’s cup
• boys: tanned skin, brown hair, sky blue eyes
  

BettsHottie331 and I are already planning next year’s trip. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

When simple warnings no longer work

I just found out how to get free Hello Kitty shit: Start banging an unruly Thai police officer.
Every time he speaks too aggressively to civilians, fails to turn off his engine when he parks his car, or is caught littering, he'll be forced to wear a pink armband with Hello Kitty sitting atop two hearts: Hello Kitty to Punish Bad Boy Police Officers
Awwwwww!!!!!!!
How could you NOT litter when that's the punishment???
Thailand needs to change it's name, non? It sounds more like Pantyland (paradise) everyday.
Here's my plan for turning Thailand into a full-fledged Pantyland: Every officer who left his car engine on when he parked his car would be forced to drive this vehicle for a month
If he speaks to aggressivley to civilians, he'll have to trade in his boring black walkie-walkie for one of these cutie cuteness doo-dads
And if he shoots an innocent drug user while on a mission with his drug sniffing dog, he'll have to trade in his old gun and put his canine in a tutu

PANTYLANDD YEEEAHHHH.

you know IT. BIG time.

because it's friday. because i'm on painkillers. because there is just nothing better.