The man in slush-dirtied Kenneth Cole knock-offs trudged through the industrial park. The Cup O’ Noodles clutched in his angry, defeated, ashamed, rueful hand followed. Or something to that Stephen King’s The Gunslinger series effect.
Archive for the ‘Collect your shit and get out’ Category
Hi. Wow, I think I started receiving death threats. How hot is THAT? So I got a new gig and it involves me social media-ing, and blogging a lot and obviously I left this place abandoned like when a kidnapper has a basement girl and he gets killed and what a horrifying metaphor this is going to be so I’ll stop. Oh, and I decided to start off by answering all the questions left on my last entry (including the gross watch in the toilet one from Bill Cosby and fuck him for asking that cuz’ it’s known I think poop is gross). I would throw up the Unqualified picture but I can’t find the damn thing and I’m too lazy to go back and Save As that mess. I am seriously run down in the life, huh?
This one was actually pretty short but it bears writing about.
The Dancer. Youth, early 20s. White sweatshirt, designer jeans, black plastic sneakers. Braids.
In The Moment. Youth, early 20s. Black hoodie. What looks like harpoons in his face.
The Dancer boards, holding on the pole to the left of me. He has ear buds in, and it is loud enough to hear the hip-hop joint that he begins DANCING to. Not crazy-ass dancing (I once saw a girl in NYC do a pole dance to the music only she could hear on her iPod, it’s one of my favorite NYC moments) but there is some bobbing, some ass action, and some challenging an imaginary adversary to a dance-off on the floor. Except we’re on an inbound MBTA car, son. Oh, and did I say the adversary was imaginary? Not anymore!
In The Moment boards. He looks like he has seen the other side and it’s not exactly halcyon up in there. His handheld device is BLARING some kind of combination nu-metal/rap concoction. Worse than say Linkin Park or Korn (is that possible?). He is without ear buds, he is just LISTENING to his phone play shitty music. And making the rest of us do the same. My morning trip to Venice (I finally got around to reading The City of Falling Angels by John Berendt) has been ruined. The city has already been sunk for me.
The Dancer (still dancing) dances to the other side of the car, directly opposite In The Moment. Their eyes lock. It’s a spaghetti western. Correction, it’s an asshole western. In The Moment closes his eyes tightly, brings the handheld device (still blaring “You Thought Metal Was Bad But We Added Shitty Rapping To It” by Suck) to his chin and freezes. He is In The Moment. He is lost in shredding guitar riffs and bellowing. The Dancer begins to bump his ass against the doors directly behind him, angry that In The Moment has chosen passive resistance. He wants to throw down, but what he doesn’t get is that In The Moment IS throwing down. Because this music is SO good he simply has to FEEL it. The Dancer puffs his chest out and club steps in place.
Is this the shitty remake of Fame? Is this a fucking Droid commercial? Can they tie their wrists together and knife fight and do us all a favor and hit the right artery at exactly the same moment? At least Scott Pilgrim had cool effects during this scene and Allison Pill on drums!
This is not your performing arts high school! It’s really loud on this fucking train now! This is not the dorm or your living room. People have books and ear buds for a reason so everyone can keep whatever they’re into to their goddamn selves. This is Boston. People’s lives shouldn’t get splashed all over each other! No one wants this. This is not a rebellion, these are challenged people!
Anyway – no one won. In fact, I think we all lost a little this morning.
The only way I can forgive audible music on the subway is if it’s coming out of a boom box that lights up and it’s 1983 and someone’s named Lazer.
Yesterday I was already high on some Steve Slater Emergency Slide dust, and then someone posted the bit about this cute girl who reportedly quit her job via a series of photos depicting her telling off her boss with messages on dry erase boards. It was quirky, and adorable, and filled me with admiration that this intelligent, good-natured girl had had enough and was going out with some style.
IT WAS FAKE!
Fuck, man. I got all inspired by it. I didn’t go and kick over a sausage stand or anything. But for an instant, I thought “well, maybe this is just a sign that our rigid, 9 to 5, caffeinated Bataan death march that we also refer to as the working world just isn’t doing it for people anymore….and this is what’s going to happen more and more. People saying “uh, uh” and no longer putting up with stupid/crass/ridiculous/evil people in positions of power over them. Maybe it will become a tidal wave and wash it all away and create a new framework of how business is done here in our fair country! A work mode that includes respect for the workers!”
And then it turned out to be just two pinheads kicking me in the nuts.
Jenny DryErase is actually an actress named Elyse Porterfield. And two accomplished internet con goons named Joel and Leo Resig made the whole thing up to see how many hits they could get. And it turned out to be a lot. (238k facebook shares and 31k tweets.)
“People, particularly journalists, underestimate America’s appetite for a good story. This story wasn’t primarily done to see how many people in the mainstream media we could hoodwink (though that was fun), it wasn’t done for the publicity, money, nor was it a slapdash reaction to some JetBlue clown ; it was done purely for the entertainment of the people first and foremost. The purpose of the hoax was to entertain and inspire, not to inform, so what difference does it make if the story has a single ounce of truth? After our second hoax I remember a reporter telling me, ‘Well it looks like you’ve fooled us twice. Won’t get away with this nonsense again.”
I’m not entertained, I’m sad that she wasn’t real. And let’s not get it twisted, OF COURSE this was for publicity. Oh, and to help someone work out some sort of small dick personality quirk they’ve got going on. (STEVE SLATER IS NOT A CLOWN! He’s a revolutionary! His image should be stenciled on the walls of alleys! And t-shirts! There should be t-shirts!)
Damn. We really could have used Jenny DryErase.
So Gisele just had Brady’s kid Benjamin (except she didn’t get kicked off the gravy train for it like other bitches. Hi, Natasha from Sex & The City) and now she’s giving interviews how she’s the best mother ever as if she was the first woman to have a baby. Arrogant tramp. And she’s also on this kick where she has declared that all women should breastfeed. She even said so in an interview with Harper’s Bazaar (via The Daily Mail). Start your breast pumps, ladies.
“I think breastfeeding really helped. Some people here think they don’t have to breastfeed, and I think, “Are you going to give chemical food to your child, when they are so little?”
“There should be a worldwide law, in my opinion, that mothers should breastfeed their babies for six months.”
So would that be like, Norfolk County District Court that would do that sort of thing? This ho has been a mom for seven months and now she’s trying to tell you how to raise your kids? EFF THAT! Let me tell ya a little something. I have a friend who was like TERRORIZED by the tit nurse (or whatever you call her, lactation nazi?) after giving birth into giving it a try. My friend (who is a sane woman who loves her two children) said it was comparable to having some sort of demonic lamprey clamped to her boob. DEMONIC LAMPREY!!! Isn’t it enough she massaged a child with her innards out of her cave of pleasures? A BIG CHILD out of a hole that doesn’t really make sense to push people out of? That’s where I say “My body has done it’s part. Let’s go down to the CVS and buy that fake milk stuff!”
My friend opted not to breast feed. It just wasn’t her. The kids will be fine. Watch one of them win the Nobel Prize or cure cancer or kill Miles from Work of Art! Then that kid needs to walk up and slap Gisele Bundchen in her supermodel mouth for being so damn fascist about breast feeding! She should be more worried about this lesbian business her husband has going on. My Mom didn’t breast feed and look how I….shit, you bitches need to breast feed.
(Fact – It’s not like they will put this mess in solitary with a hole for toilette. She’ll have air conditioning for chrissakes. And a blanket. And she can probably get drugs more easily IN prison than outside it. I’ve seen OZ. They have em’ in condoms or balloons and people put them up themselves. I’m guessing she’s played that game before.)
Lohan brought Walt Disney into it on her Twitter. Eeeks.
the only “bookings” that i’m familiar with are Disney Films, never thought that i’d be “booking” into Jail… eeeks
about 9 hours ago via web
The last time this bitch was looked at by Disney was when she drove by Disneyland in Anaheim on a drug run.
Freckles may have come to the realization that she was definitely donning orange when her newest lawyer, famed O.J. legal eagle Robert Shapiro, rolled his eyes and left.
TMZ reports that Shapiro met with peoples’ hero Judge Marsha yesterday and informed her that he was audi. This is an easy point to make, but this dude represented a man who cut his ex-wife’s head off and killed a waiter as a bonus. Represented him to a “not guilty” verdict. After said psychopath led cops on a high-speed chase. And he couldn’t handle sitting with Lindsay Lohan at a long table for a couple of hours. Make of that what you will.
Stay tuned today to see if Lohan actually turns up at the pokey. Or if she sends Dina in leggins’, a wig and stage freckles.
If you’re unaware what that is, here you go.
It should be my middle name because I am a bitch. But not in this case because that entitled cokehead snotty skank known as Lindsay Lohan is GOING TO JAIL. Can you feel a brand new day? Someone call out the Lollipop League and wheel in the keg, cuz’ it’s party time.
Can you think of anyone more deserving of jailtime than this fake-ass delusional ho? For going on years now, she has evaded prosecution for numerous offenses, managing to weasel out of just about every charge brought against her. She has repeatedly made the Los Angeles court system seem like the most dickless and ineffectual provider of justice since George Clooney starred as Batman. And why? Because she’s a cokey actress who was briefly relevant? But now you might want to send an Edible Arrangement to Judge Marsha Revel because that stand-up lady of the cloth (wait…robe?) just sent Lindsay Lohan to jail for 90 days. Huzzah!
Skeezy Lohan will reportedly be going to jail for 90 days and then entering rehab (I’m sure that will take) for another 90 for violating her DUI probation by skipping out on her booze classes. Finally, someone with a real set of pendulous low-hangers (sorry, Judge) just smacked that bitch upside her dried-out crackie face. Let’s complete this slash and burn on Lindsay’s entitlement by driving to Long Island and slapping her friggin’ whoring cokemom, family apologist Dina Lohan. Hell, why stop there? Kick ole’ Ali in the ass, too, and don’t even get me started on that douchebag father with the desperation to be on camera and the cellphone on his belt and the turtlenecks. I could go on for hours.
So enjoy the sentencing. Right after Lindsay gives this simpering, bullshit plea for mercy (the lawyer must have shook her roughly immediately before court and said “bitch, you betta say this or you are screwed, you crawl under her robe and kiss her ass, now!”), the judge ignores it, gives her 90 days in the clink, and Lindsay bursts into tears which cleansed my soul. Good. Next! We’re looking at you, Charlie Sheen.
Groundbreaking Lesbian Performers Who Later Got Breast Cancer And Survived Can Be Cold-Ass Bitches, TooJuly 5, 2010
Melissa Etheridge, normally the picture of easy-going graciousness and down-home sweetness and bravery, apparently has an icebox for a heart when it comes to offloading the ladies. Her ex Tammy Lynn Michaels (remember how hot she was as Nicole Julian on Popular?) says that Melissa blindsided her with divorce papers and has left her penniless. Yes I Am…..Moving On To The Next Vagina And Leaving You Toe-Up, indeed, Missa!
Tammy Baby has a blog (smart girl) and on it, she posts Rosie O’Donnell-esque poetry spurts about how her life has been going since she and Melissa did the splits. And the resounding themes are “not very well” and “Melissa sucks.”
FILE FOR DIVORCE!!!!!!
even though we both promised
no filing until after tour
in the fall
her broken promises
told to me by
i’m raising the kids
doing what i can
second set of yours
could you stop blind sighting me?
unless it’s another art form you’re working on?
The story is that Mel Gibson and his post-divorce impregnated jumpoff , Oksana Grigorieva, are currently embroiled in a restraining order swordfight. And Oksana just jabbed her sword up his ass by providing the court with tapes she recorded of Mel being verbally abusive about the way she dressed. And don’t think he didn’t drop the N-bomb when he thought he was behind closed doors. So black people can now join our Jewish friends in driving by and throwing flaming bags of feces on Mel’s reputation.
Radar says that the following gems are on tape for the divorce court’s delight. Can Oksana just order diamond tiara now or does she have to wait until this is notarized?
“You’re an embarrassment to me. You look like a fucking pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of n***ers, it will be your fault.
“How dare you act like such a bitch when I have been so fucking nice.”
“I am going to come and burn the fucking house down… but you will blow me first.”
“Look what you did to me… look what you are… look what every part of you is… fucking fake… fucking fake. You are the most synthetic person… who the fuck are you?”
That first one is nice. Does Danny Glover know that Mel feels that way? Would Danny and his “pack” show up to rehearsal and rub Mel’s racist ass the wrong way on the set of Lethal Weapon 1 – Aught Four or something?
Mel’s done, right? This would be “done?”
And next time I want to get blown, I’ m telling Scotty that I’m setting the apartment on fire. Does that actually work? Anyone?
The BET Awards were held last night, and Chris Brown was responsible for the Michael Jackson tribute (he died a year ago around this time). They couldn’t get Usher? At least Usher didn’t punch a lady about the head and shoulders. That we know of. Sure, Usher is an annoying twat but he didn’t try to launch a album on the heels of a domestic abuse charge, either. And Usher can dance! Sorta. He does a lot of kinda sluggish popping and locking and a couple of steps, usually down stairs that light up. Seriously, shoulda gone with Usher.
Oh, and the gist of this post is that Bust-her Brown got all choked up during his tribute and couldn’t finish singing “Man in the Mirror.” I’d get weepy, too, if I had Ike Turnered my girlfriend and everyone found out about it and my career did that thing that dirgible did back in the 1800s when the announcer was screaming and it just BLEW UP and not in a good way. And then had to look in a mirror.
(Sorry, the video is such a suckjob, but BET is being hainty about the rights.)
He was so tearstricken that he reportedly had to be led off the stage by Jermaine Jackson. So the debate is on as to whether he was really touched by an angel known as MJ or staging the emotional flash flood to get the public back on his side. I am one cynical bitch, so I’m going to say he’s crying because of all the bits of green paper that are currently flying out of his windows.
To get over this farce, we need to pray over the outfit Prince wore to the show last night. It will fill you up and put you firmly on the path you need to be on. Because someone needs to wear a spaceship turtleneck with their own likeness emblazoned about it. And his name is Prince. And he is funky.