Monday, December 29, 2008
Why is the most wonderful time of year the least? As I've mentioned, the season puts me in a severely foul mood, which can only be remedied by online shopping and the promise of days off from work. It was a rather dull holiday, which is all the more depressing, since I'm obviously a heartless robot incapable of feeling any joy.
1. A few weeks ago, one of my g-pas offered me a rather new 42" TV as he and g-ma had replaced their set recently for a new HD model. Sign me up! The fam crammed our overfed asses into my mom's Matrix to ensure we had trunk (hatch) space to accomodate the TV, which we intended to pick up on our annual pilgrimage to a place that might even be worse the Worcestor, MA, Woodward, OK. Upon arrival, I was greeted by said g-pa, who led me to a closet with an old, decrepit, maybe 25" set encased in what appeared to be fake wood panelling. I accepted it graciously and tossed it in the cavernous trunk of the car. I noticed that they had clearly reallocated the TV in question to the playroom where my little cousins had set up Christmas camp. Bah.
2. Part two of the same trip, with the same g-parents (it's confusing because my parents share the same hometown, which means two birds, one stone when it comes to holidays), all hell breaks loose because of a four year old girl. The grandparents have a spacious house clearly built with the intention of holding extended family over holidays. However, there's simply not enough room for all of the family members who arrive from all over the southern US. This year, the assortment included my step grandmother's daughter, husband, and four year old daughter (oh yeah, I forgot to mention she's the step 'ma - it's been over 20 years, so sometimes I forget, but it's important). Christmas Eve, four year old girl gets a room, the parents get a room, and my uncle (not step) gets a room. Christmas day, uncle is informed that he will be sleeping on the couch because step g-ma's number one son is arriving with his wife. So, now we have four year old girl in one room, parents in one room, newly arriving couple in one room, 48 year old uncle with bad back on couch in living room. Uncle says oh hell no. They think he is kidding because what sensible adult doesn't understand that a small child needs their very own queen size bed? I mean, really. He's not. He's driven in from Houston (not a quick jaunt, you see) and decides to hightail it back to Norman for a real bed at my house. Ok. Makes sense. We're heading out (after Christmas number three at the OTHER grandparents house complete with assorted cousins, aunts and uncles), and are about 45 miles outside of Woodward, when uncle's beamer starts spewing smoke. After leaving him on the highway and a trip to the Seiling, OK gas station that is thankfully open on Christmas Day night at about 11pm, we determine that he's got a cracked radiator. Guess where he's headed. Oh snap.
3. Ex-boyfriend sightings. Boo. It's still so strange to me that a) he's never responded to what I thought was a clever b-day card that said, hey, we're over all the weird crap, let's put it behind us and laugh, and b) that someone whom I shared almost everyday with for seven years is wandering the streets of my town with no inclination at all to inquire about how I am, what I am, all that stuff. Baffling. Current boyfriend drama. NSFB. (Not safe for blogs.) We'll see!
4. Recession is the new economy. I usually rely on making bank at Christmas to get me through the winter or allow me to buy something much needed (washer and dryer!!!), but it was a super stingy Christmas this year, understandably. So, I apologize for wearing either the same smelly thing over and over again, or for showing up ridiculousy under or overdressed because I'm down to the formal or loungewear portion of the ol' wordrobe.
5. NYE! Go fuck yourself. I give up on this. $10 says you can find me with a bottle of scotch and a self imposed SATC marathon on my shitty, not 42" TV.
6. Happy holidays. More later.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
*I am currently tearing up at the last SATC epi when Big finds Carrie in the hotel in Paris, I'm not sure if this means I have emotions or am an even bigger asshole.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Brain clip 1:
I'm having lunch with my exboyfriend (who has all but forgotten me, but not my friends who he seeks out on Facebook, anyway...) poolside. Next to us, Lauren Conrad and Brody Jenner are squeezed into a chaise lawn chair thingy talking and pointing at us. I'm not sure why, until I notice that the exbf is wearing a Christian Siriano designed short, puffy sleeved, fitted dark denim jacket with Carhartts. It gets fuzzy at that point, but I'm pretty sure I got up and left upon this realization.
Brain clip 2:
I'm living in Northampton and want to go to Fairway to buy groceries in NYC. I also want my favorite dumplings at the Cottage on 77th and Amsterdam. I go online to reserve a Zipcar, because now I'm suddenly in Boston, but decide to take the Fung-Wah bus to avoid driving myself in traffic. I ultimately decide that since I have a car, neither of the aforementioned would be necessary. Needless to say, I woke up very sad when I realized I'm not only more than a two to four hour drive away, but hundreds of dollars and connecting flights stand between Fairway and me.
If my brain matter could sing, it would sound like Nina Simone.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I had a dream last night that I took a train to Ireland. Weird. I'm fuzzy on the details, but later, I was back home and wanting to go to Greece, but my passport had expired. So, I got online and researched how to get an emergency passport at the closest State Department issuing authority in Houston. I actually dreamed about emailing my boss asking time off for work to go get a passport. My dreams need to get a life.
Congratulations me! You are addicted to Etsy! I see it on sites all the time, but since I owe my soul to the company store (Department of Education), I try not to look at things I can lust after that are reasonably priced and support the notion of a collection of artists hocking their handmade best. Dudes, you can skip this one, probably, but ladies, Etsy's a treasure trove of delightful trinkets.
Ok, almost time to brave the OKC's highways. Wish me luck.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
I made a horrible mistake Friday night. First, I went to Opies. If you're a Normanite, you know the gravity of this poor decision. After narrowly escaping the lure of the mirrored dance floor, the gang headed to Seven47, a popular bar on campus corner. Actually, it's really a haven for Shain and I to drink Hendricks and tonic and confuse the waitress when we ask for cucumbers because we are pretentious pricks. Last time Shain and I were there (last week, so?) we couldn't stop commenting on the amazing number of bartenders, barbacks, and waitstaff that kept pouring out of the clown car of a bar. They were hydrating and caffeinating as if preparing for an exam or something. Now I know why. Seven was a fucking shit show Friday night. That place blows serious balls. Fucked up drunk chicks + retardedly high heels = a hot, clumsy mess. It smelled like a frat basement, piss and all. You couldn't walk without your feet sticking to the floor, if you could walk at all. Sure, they have $2 Pabst, but I drew the line when I had to wait 20 minutes in the longest bathroom line ever only to be cut off by two drunk bitches who literally pushed me. PUSHED ME. I flipped my shit in the only way I know how. I yelled something sarcastic and got the girl behind me on my side who pulled them out of the stall. I stole their TP in the meantime.
Yay Sam! As I awaited the announcement from ESPN, I couldn't help but notice the difference in quality in the little bios prepared for each candidate. Colt's from small town America, but with a big heart. Sam played all kinds of sports and was a cute kid. Tim performs surgical procedures on orphans in Manila. Oh, blow me. Also, Sam won, so suck it. Gators are goners.
My roomate is getting married on Saturday. His bachelor party was Saturday night. I was told the after party would take place at our place (the only evidence that I can find that even a modicum of fun was had is a blow up doll that's currently staring at me - I'm not sure that's a good sign), so I vacated to the 'rents house for the night so they could party in peace (e.g. without me trying to drink all their shit and DJ). It was weird sleeping in my old bed. And far more comfortable. Which leads me to this landmark decision. I want to get married. Considering the recession, I'm pretty sure it's the only way I'll ever get anything I need to, you know, live life. Roommate is taking his washer and dryer to the new place on Thursday. WTF! I have to buy my own now? Is it cool to handwash everything in the kitchen sink? They're like more than $100, which is my limit for any expediture. He's also taking the coffee table. And a lot of other shit. Blast! I got rid of almost everything in a bizarre personal belongings holocaust back in the MA, so I really don't have much, nor do I need much, except, you know a bed that works and a washer and dryer. If anyone has one they're looking to sell, let me know! I'm in a funk about this. Why isn't it kosher to register when you get out of school, get a real job and realize how fucking broke you are? That's when you need shit. Not 10 years from now when I've bullied someone into a shotgun wedding.
I know it's stupid, but I don't want any of my friends to be friends with the ex boyfriend, especially since he's yet to respond to the card that I sent on his b-day in my effort to be mature and adult and all that shit. Petty, yes. Rational, no. I would really like to not be reminded of his existence if possible. And now I am. Blech.
Smith is weird
I caught wind of Smith's reveal of the new mascot/spirit mark/I'm not really sure via Facebook. I headed over to the college website to encounter this video. I just don't get it. I don't think I'm impressed. I know that much. Also, I know that when Smith does weird shit, or drops in rankings, I want to call them and ask for my money back. I feel like* I went to a different Smith.
*Trademarked Smithie talk.
Things to come
My top eight songs of 2008. Excited yet? You should be.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
1. I have heard only good things about K-West's new album*, so when I was at Target and needed to fill the void where my soul should be, I decided to drop it in the basket. I popped it in on the way home and almost crashed a million times because I was lulled into an involuntary boring coma. WTF, dude? A drum machine and an auto-tuner does not an album make. I was obsessed all summer long with Flashing Lights, which is a pretty sweet song. Love Lockdown premiered recently, and I thought it was catchy and that I could stand more of where that came from, but I was duped into hypnotoadism. The song is the equivalent of going to the grocery store and staring at all of the different types of whole grain breads. The point of Kanye is his ability to cleverly articulate the many aspects of his life, helped by some pretty sweet beats. I understand that his life has been marred by heartbreak, but really it's no excuse to become a lazy lyricist and even lazier arranger. Whatever Kanye is, he's not a singer. I think that's the bottom line. Thumbs down.
2. It's getting colder out. Every other day or so. Today it's going to be 60. Tomorrow 30. Ah, Oklahoma. It's tough to keep up with schizo weather and what to wear in such strange atmospheric conditions. It's tougher to keep up with what the young kids are wearing in this kind of weather when you spend weekends leafing through LL Bean catalogs, filling prescriptions and are in bed by 9.30pm. So fine, I bought a dress that I thought would make me feel young again. And fine, it might not actually be a dress. It hovers somewhere between blousy tunic and short dress. Do I wear it over pants? Skinny jeans (ha!)? Footed tights? Leggings? I DON'T KNOW AND IT STRESSES ME OUT. I went with ribbed footless tights and black flats (it's a purple dress, yes, I'm seven). I feel a fool. I hope I don't see anyone I know today.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
I took this photo when I was subbing for an AP/remedial English class at Noble High School when I first returned to the OK. For realz.
Friday, December 05, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
that I don't work at the Valley Stream, NY Wal-Mart
for the G4 Arrested Development marathon (and impending movie??)
for 24 hour pharmacies
that Britney really seems to be getting her shit together
for the Travel Channel's No Reservations marathon
that I wasn't invited to Heidi and Spencer's nuptials
for my job
for Archer Farms egg nog yogurt
that Barack Obama won
for Amazon's 50 albums for $5!
for Ina Garten
for the shuffle setting on my iPod
I would say for readers, but there aren't any
that I didn't have to suffer through another Steak and Ale Thankshitting
for fevers, Mother Nature's acid
that I missed Rosie's variety show thing
that I'm not knocked up
that there are "black Friday" sales at liquor stores
that my snot has turned from neon green to clear, I think that's a good sign
and lots of other stuff probably.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I just wanted to congratulate you on a story aired All Things Considered last night. Jon Kalish's "piece" about the 1968 Harvard vs. Yale game succeeded in sucking more than the bottleneck at I-40 and I-235 at rush hour. Seriously, what could be more riveting than a bunch of Ivy League dudes recalling the glory days of a football game that no one cared about even then (but Tommy Lee Jones was on the team! I know, I know.)? In this day and age of economic deterioration, there's nothing more heartwarming than an old fashioned tale of priviliged leatherheads fighting it out on the Harvard gridiron. So relatable! Maybe I'll play this story for my children, who will most certainly attend the prestigious University of Phoenix. Perhaps they'll play Capella in a tense Second Life game of pigskin in a similar spirited tradition.
I went to a Harvard game or two. There's only one crimson team that's worth freezing your ass off (literally). And it's not Harvard. Don't know if I was clear about that.
Love in Christ,
We bought our tickets and headed into the darkened theater and settled in. A fast paced, action filled opening scene appeared to have already started. I was surprised, approving on the theater's wise, but unusual decision to eschew 30 minutes of previews and get right to the heart of the matter. The small cinemas in Northampton that I used to frequent would show maybe one trailer, so it didn't seem too out of the ordinary to catch the opening of the film 15 minutes past the movie start time.
As I continued to watch, I experienced an intellectual unraveling worse than some of the roughest finals I endured in college. Why couldn't I remember the ending of the last movie? How, specifically, had Vespa betrayed Bond? What's the deal with returning character Mathis? Why does Daniel Craig's mouth bother me so much, especially when he's drinking something, with all those little sucking noises? Why is none of this fitting together? Am I really so stupid as to not be able to follow a fucking Bond movie? It's not like Syriana or some shit. Come to think of it, did I really understand Syriana? Well, maybe it was confusing, but I totally got Babel. Totally. Right? Was that the one with the deaf naked chick where Cate Blanchett peed on herself then Brad Pitt banged her? How come all I can recall of an Oscar nominated film is the nudity, pee and banging? Conclusion: I should quit life because I am an idiot.
Then I knew what had happened. I silently rose from my seat and returned to the lobby to confront the d-bag (Moore) kid who'd directed my trio to the auditorium. I asked him which auditorium was showing the 8:10 Bond. He told me number 13. Well fuck me. We were in number two. Better yet, it was now 45 minutes into the meat of the movie. Jesus H. Christ on a stick. I asked when the next show started. 8:50.
I went back and retrieved Dad and the bro (those people already watching must've enjoyed feeling superior for a few minutes there) and made our way to the correct auditorium. Between us, we have two BA's, one Master's, one PhD and some National Merit business, not to mention and Eagle Scout and the unparalleled honor of Oklahoma's Greatest 75 Websites. I am afraid for our future. Also, Casino Royale was better.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
M-W's word of the day: blithesome. Heedless. Yup, that's pretty much it. There are varying stories regarding the genesis of my name, one involves a random pick from the baby name book, another an unusual preoccupation with Blythe Danner. In either case, it's a bitch to place an order at Panera.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Here's some random music crap.
Taxi on Vermont - Old Canes
Cathedrals - Jump Little Children
The Kid is Gone - The Gravy
Something About Us - Daft Punk
Yam, King of the Crops - The Mountain Goats
The Future Hangs - Cuff The Duke
Baby James - Casey Dienel
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Also, to all of those trolling this blog for nude pics of a hot chick playing Twister as suggested by the boys of TLO, sorry! I had to take them down for professional reasons. But believe me, they were h.o.t. Instead, this is me eating some cheese toast.*
*Not really me.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Fine. I will just send an email.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
- 1 trip to Super Target to buy crock pot*
- 1 lunch at Chili's
- $20 to see Role Models. Totally worth it. Paul Rudd crush surges.
- 11pm Saturday night bedtime
- 2 hours reading Real Simple, Gourmet, Bon Apetit, Living, and Cooks Illustrated for T-day recipes
- 3 loads of laundry
- 4 miles of dog walks
- 3 hour trip to Harold's outlet to look for bargain work shirts and ties for the BF
- 1 kitchen session to make chili for a work pot luck and a baked pasta dish to be warmed up tomorrow night after the BF and I get home from the gym
- 483 Diet Cokes
Jealous much? I thought so.
*The BF accurately pointed out that the crock pot purchase (necessary for the making of and transportation for the work chili) would render a blog search for slow cooker recipes for my demographic (e.g. Whole Foods loving food snobs) named something clever like crockofchic.blogspot.com. Let me know if you find anything.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
It started off innocently enough. I'd spend a little bit of time here. Then a minute or two here, you know, just to try it out. Before long, as the spring progressed, I'd take a little of this, just to keep up with everything. Summer came and went in a blur of this, these and that. Things get kind of hazy come September - I couldn't tell if I was coming or going, just that I wanted more. By October, I would do anything to get it anywhere. Even here.
It's going to be tough, but I think with professional help I can get through this. At least I can expect to be relapse free until 2010.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
I know, right! The TLO boys were also mentioned among many others actually deserving of making the list. I don't know if you've noticed, but... I kind of don't blog so much these days. When I let the BF know that he had the opportunity/obligation to buy a local celebrity a drink Friday night, he immediately asked whom I was sleeping with to secure such an honor. I'm 96% sure my parents paid for my mention as penance for this haircut.
**UPDATE** The dorkiest of all dorks, M5K has even noted this momentous, albeit undeserving and decidedly mysterious development. Recognize.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
If you were to call me right now, and our discussion somehow devolved into "hey, what are you wearing?" (as it so often does), I would respond as such:
Hey baby, I hope you like pre-shrunk cotton, cause I've got on a t-shirt. It's more than just a t-shirt, it's an over sized, traffic cone orange frock with delightfully whimsical black felt shapes placed strategically to resemble a carved pumpkin. Oh yeah. My boxy tee, lovingly and expertly crafted by the youngsters in my office to celebrate the holiday, sits atop a pair of ill conceived J. Crew jeans. They seemed like a steal at the time, but months later, after an unfortunate brush with a full length mirror, I've discovered these jeans are more mom than MILF. That's cool, though, cause I rock my Chuck's that used to be cream colored but now are closer to asphalt. Hello? Are you there? Hello?
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
*Not the official video, but oh well.
In a related story, I love Jon Hamm. L.O.V.E. love. He brilliantly hosted SNL Saturday night (and no, I didn't TiVo it, I was actually at home watching). I think my favorite thing, besides the kick ass extra sets performed by Coldplay (not!) was the introduction of Jon Hamm's John Ham.
I can't find a clip of that, so instead, enjoy Don Draper's Guide to Picking Up Women.
Also, if you're not watching Mad Men, you are nuts. The season finale aired last night, so you have ample time to Netflix seasons one and two in preparation for the new season beginning in what feels like forever. Get your gimlets and cigs ready and just do it! I'd say more, but I don't want to spoil it for anyone since I know you're all going to watch. Right?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Here is a highlight:
With Seattle on a roll — it’s home to Microsoft, Amazon.com, Starbucks, Costco, Nordstrom — it is difficult to fathom why any team (or business, for that matter) would leave the city and its famous quality of life for a metropolitan area one-third its size. And why Oklahoma City? Even in its own state, Tulsa would seem to have greater national prospects, with its rolling hills, mansion-filled neighborhoods and cultural accouterments of a serious place, as opposed to flat, brown, insular Oklahoma City, where unseemly oil wells blight even the Capitol grounds.
Ok, fine. It ends up being somewhat fair in the end. And, it was the best written piece about Oklahoma I've seen in a long, long time since we're usually stuck with The Oklahoman. In any case, I gotta find me some tickets.
Monday, October 20, 2008
LISTEN: Terry Gross and Michael talk food as a national security issue on Fresh Air.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I'd Die Without You - PM Dawn
Saturday, October 18, 2008
6. I learned to drive a standard, even though I've never owned one, just in case there's a terrible emergency and the only car is manual.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Monday, October 06, 2008
Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: One political song in honor of the impending presidential debate edition.
Shain, this could've been us!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
This is a small sampling of the forwards I receive daily. For some reason, my immediate family has decided to hide our political and religious leanings around the more conservative segments of the extended fam. I guess my parents don't want their parents and siblings to know that they've raised a couple of Godless, bleeding heart liberal children that are in favor of legalizing pot, prostitution, gay marriage and don't give a shit that John McCain was a POW. If I get one more email telling me that Obama is a Muslim, I'm telling all of my little cousins that Santa isn't real.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Dance Dance Dance - Lykke Li
Carmensita - Davendra Banhart
No Sex For Ben - Rapture
Paper Planes - MIA
Someone Great - LCD Soundsystem
Bonafied Lovin - Chromeo
Fluorescent Adolescent - Arctic Monkeys
Bathroom Gurgle - Late of Pier
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Diva Thin Muffin
Friday, August 29, 2008
a. Working security at the DNC.
b. Winning like 5,000 gold medals in field hockey. *I did go to a college for ladies...
c. Welcoming baby Bee-Spot into the world!
d. In a room at 900 E. Main St., Norman, OK.
e. Washing my hair.
f. Two words. Gender reassignment.
g. I'm now Mrs. Bee-Spot!
h. Preparing for ACL by immersing myself in thousands upon thousands of mp3s and irony.
i. Filming with the rest of the new cast of Real World: OKC.
j. Waiting in line at Wal-Mart to pay for just one tube of toothpaste.
k. First month of medical school!
l. Boycotting all things blog.
m. Watching every possible Lost episode and webisode in preparation for the impending season.
n. Hospitalized for Diet Coke OD.
o. Totally sweet and awesome vacay!
p. Preparing for the US Open, only to be knocked out in the first round.
q. On the campaign trail with McCain.
r. Lost in Forever 21.
s. Knocker reduction surgery.
v. Painting my face and body crimson and cream for tomorrow's opening game!
w. Hosting the eighth hour of the Today Show.
x. Just watching the Today show (full time occupation).
y. I predict no one makes it this far down the list.
z. Wallowing in self pity, despair, laziness, beer, wine, and Taco Bell.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Sa da tay!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
If your ears work, chances are, you've been aurally assaulted by this song. It's caught fire faster than California. It's freaking everywhere and every time I witness someone rocking out to the popish bigotry, a little piece of my liberal Smith attending bleeding heart dies. On the surface, one might think that this song of purported sexual exploration is actually a validation that being a lesbian isn't so taboo these days and that the young kids don't really give a crap who you're screwing, just as long as you're on Facebook and at least one article of clothing comes from Abercrombie. However, under its semblance of innocent curiosity lies the same old shit. Katy sings (barely audible over Britney Spears worthy production noise) "It's not what good girls do / Not how they should behave." Really? It's fucking 2008. I would argue that while some might deem these lyrics as harmless without real impact to the perception of homosexuality in America, these dumbass lyrics and so many others that spread through the earbuds of so many are absolutely culturally lethal. Say what you will. I'll think what I want.
II. The Sports Manimals
I won't bore you with the spectacular disaster that is The Sports Animal. Basically, it's a local sports show featuring people I don't really know or care about. The Lost Ogle does an excellent job of distilling just why these turds are so ridic* so I won't say much. I was driving back from Texas last week, and TSA was the only station that would come in clearly. Also, my mom needs to know what's happening with the OU football team in the dead of summer at all times. So I listened for a bit before I drifted off due to extreme boredom. When I awoke, somewhere in the Arbuckles, I was plunged into a 20 minute long melee about what the score of some game was last season. There are like 1200 people in the studio or on the phone. It's not like they were trying to recall the score of the Paoli/Wayne 1A championship football game of October 1967, it was the score of OU/Missouri or some shit. Even Dean Blevins didn't know. WHAT THEY HELL IS THEIR JOB THEN I ask you? Do they not have computers that can access espn.com? WTF! They make more than I'll ever make for knowing less than my mom about football (she was furiously screaming the answer into the windshield). Seriously, I would rather hippie dance at a frat formal to the Bird on a Wire soundtrack than listen to that show in its entirety.
*Julie Gongism #13
Monday, July 28, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Saturday was spent in various states of recovery and included a trip to Taco Delite prior to gussying up for the wedding. It was hot as balls outside and in the church, but overall a lovely ceremony in spite of the reverend repeating that marriage is only for a man and a woman and that if you are single you suck. Well, anyway, the bride looked beautiful.
We bailed on the reception (it's complicated) and went to the Angelika to see War, Inc. It's so nice to have a theater that isn't afraid of to show the potentially unpopular. Here in the OK, your choices usually range from five or six screens of the latest blockbuster. Yay. Right, so, the movie was meh. Until I was reviewing the credits and noticed that it was co-authored by Mark Leyner. If you've never read Mark Leyner, you probably should. Just a little. Start with the short stories like Tooth Imprints on a Corn Dog. It's hard to concisely describe the reading experience. Oddly enough, it was the namesake of this post that turned me on to this guy. RIP.
Speaking of which, songs not to play at a reception:
Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon
D-I-V-O-R-C-E - Tammy Wynette
Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
Single Again - Fiery Furnaces
Love The One You're With - CSNY
Songs I would play that everyone would hate:
Our Way to Fall - Yo la Tengo
Harvest Moon - Neil Young
What would/did you play? You know, just in case I plan someone's wedding.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
There's a lot to not say about this picture. What I will say is that Chi is making a fortune off of these douches.