Friday, February 11, 2011

Brandy For Sale is no more.

Hey all-

I've moved!  Alert the press (and my parole officer).

You can find me here:

I'm on Twitter:

Thanks for reading this old blog, if you do or ever did.  Mom, my one and only reader, this means you.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Broads I Like: E.G. Daily

I like E.G. Daily.  I think she's darling and I love that she was in all sorts of movies I loved when I was growing up being, in turn, sexy & conniving (Valley Girl), fey & gamine (Pee Wee's Big Adventure) and singing her heart out in a kick ass silver ruffled cocktail dress (Better Off Dead). 

She's a voice over queen and a musician, and I think she's kick ass.  I even forgive her for this disturbing photograph (she apparently was married at one time to the very same twerp that porked The Orifice That Shall Go Unnamed, pictured here to the left, in a particular "sex" tape).

My pal Sara Jo started a Facebook fan page for other E.G. Daily lovers, and you should look it up and join it.  I will link to it when I feel like it.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

So...I re-quit as of Tuesday.

I've quit smoking about 3 times now, give or take. I quit after I got pneumonia at my friend Oren's pool party; I quit after my friend Glennis's 30th b-day; I quit when packs in NYC went up to 10 bucks.

Each time, I've done great right out of the gate. Then, I allow myself one or, even worse, allow myself to be talked into one. It's sad. I've decided that I no longer like this.

I am going to start an informal list of reasons why I quit. I think there's some sort of ad campaign that does the same thing (probably to get you to take some drug the pharmaceutical companies are peddling thru some sort of handshake with the tabacco industries) but, they can go screw. This is for me. Enjoy (and, like me, hope this sticks).

Reason #1: My friend Daniel burned me with his cigarrete & left a scar when we were on a smoke break together.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Real creepy-like.

Sometimes, the Quote Of The Day site reads my mind and freaks me out.

The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any.
- Russell Baker


Other times, I want to pee on whoever makes the quote selections:

If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.
Abraham Maslow

Friday, February 06, 2009

Rent My Smith Street,Brooklyn Apartment!

So, the time has come for me to vacate my Smith Street diggs after 6 wonderful you all 1st crack as we are on the lease until July 31st, 2009 and want to make sure it's rented March 1st no matter what. Details:

-2 bedroom, one bath apartment with large kitchen full of storage, den AND living room-seriously! It is HUGE.
-Located on corner of Smith & Baltic Streets
-2nd floor of privately owned building- we are the only tenants
-Rent is currently $2,100.00 thru May '09 lease (That includes heat, electricity and water - gas separate, about $20 a month)
-Landlord and family live in apartment below
-3 Min. to F Train, 10 min walk to A/C/2/3/4/5/N at Borough Hall
-1 large bedroom with closet, one smaller bedroom with no closet- 2 closets in hallway with plenty of space
-Large kitchen with dishwasher, tons of cabinet space, full sized appliances (great for a cook)- enough room for a bistro table too!
-1 bathroom, bathtub/shower combo with frosted glass doors, fully tiled
-Large living room and den- the common space in this place is insane and is the best feature. 5 windows, 3 facing Baltic Street and 2 facing Smith so lots of fresh air and natural light. All bedrooms have windows as well.

There is a laundromat around the corner and apartment is across the street from a grocery store, very convenient. Wired for cable. Safe, always busy bustling neighborhood- you get a little noise sometimes because we are right on the corner but, nothing a nice white noise machine or the air conditioner won't mask nicely.

This block is full of every boutique they write about in LuckyMagazine each month and peppered with restaraunts & swanky cocktail lounges that make befuddled Manhattan dwellers sulk of the F train(Char. #4, Clover Club, The Grocery, Po)

It's an AMAZING space, very cozy and warm with lots of legroom. You have to see it to believe the cost for the location...insane.

We'll start showing it officially Feb.17th- contact me for an appointment, before we hand it off to a broker!

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Shine On, You Crazy Southern Diamond.

I was noodling around online, in an aimless lazy Sunday search for the names of Paula Deen's various dogs. On the TV as background noise was an episode of a Food Network show that detailed Paula helping what has to be the most boring couple I have EVER seen renovate their boring kitchen in their BOOOOOORRRRIIIIINNNNGGGG house. I mean, between the two of them they have the personality of a piece of discarded gum. Example: after the reveal, the mouse-wife raises her voice about one notch to semi-whisper, "Oh my GOSH...there's ducks!" Never were more profound words uttered.

So of course you can see why I was more intrigued by the idea of Paula's dogs...and my search led me to a post on TV Squad and, the ensuing comments. The winner of the bunch is posted here in its entirety.

After reading this comment, I have decided that I sincerely wish the terrorists would bomb Middle America next time. Specifically, the petty mean-spirited c*@t who wrote this tripe. She strikes me as the type of Southern shrew who chuckles over her family's slave owning past as if it's kind of a quaint affectation. I hope she chokes on her sweet tea, I really do.


Recent Comments:

Food Network hopes Paula Deen will attract younger viewers {TV Squad}

Oct 15th 2006 3:48PM My husband and I have been Paula Deen fans since she first set foot on FoodNetwork...clear back to Gordon Elliott's show Door Knock Dinners where she was a guest chef. Unfortunately, her fame and fortune have taken away her down home southern belle class and replaced it with arrogance, flash, and risque behavior. My husband says if he were Michael, he'd put his foot down about some of the things she does on her show (i.e. licking a guest's mouth to get some food off his lips, hopping into bed with an engaged couple, rubbing a guest's hair and commenting on how hard it was and laughing her now-irritating laugh.

Paula, you had a huge fan-base before you started acting like a southern tart. If you ditch the trash talk and smutty behavior, you'll see we're still right there behind you loving you each step of the way. But your new ways grew old and tiresome very quickly. Get back to basics! You shine brighter than the biggest diamond!

Paula and Richard Pearman

Tuesday, December 30, 2008


I found out about Dri on Crossfade, the blog generated for (which is a leg of the ever helpful I really love this blog, I found out about so much great new music here and I am super devoted to it. Anyway iTunes & Amazon are funally carrying Dri's amzing album Smoke Rings as a full download so, I think you should check it out. Well worth it- only 8 bucks on iTunes right now.

This song should be enough inspiration as to why. It is and has been, my theme tune for the past few months.


Monday, December 29, 2008

Just add milk...but never after midnight!

As you may well be aware, I was kind of obsessed for a while with the film Gremlins as a child. I mean, who wasn't? It was second only to Ghostbusters at the box office when it opened. It even had its own cereal (which, I might add, was really tasty and was similar to Cap'n Crunch). Plus, you can see Robby the Robot and Steven Spielberg in cameos in it. And a tiny Corey Feldman, pre- meth.

I liked it so much, I even cribbed Phoebe Cates's very black comedy monologue from it for one of my own films. Feel free to compare them below, and let me know what you think:

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Oh, you shouldn't have!

No, REALLY. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE, in fact. What a nightmare orgy of consumerist crap this country has spun itself into. Sheesh:

Monday, December 22, 2008

Summer Heights High: WATCH THIS NOW.

I really cannot say enough how impressed I am with this show. If you have HBO or access to HBO OnDemand at someone else's house, you really need to do yourself the favor of sitting down to watch it. It's an amazing Australian comedy series that HBO acquired and is currently airing.

It's that good. Take my word - Chris Lilley is a genius and you'll be hearing a lot about him very, very soon. In this show, he plays the three main characters, all of whom are subtly costumed but so amazingly spot on you won't realize that you're watching a 35 year old man play a 16 spoiled private school diva. Or a troubled Tongan teenager who loves breakdancing. Or a racist, small minded drama teacher.

Head on over to HBO and take a gander at Summer Heights High.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

"And you know how the blacks love to tap dance!"

I thought everyone was kidding about this Joe The Plumber crackpot, who popped up so much in the most recent presidential election seemed so obvious that the guy was lured to interject his lame ass into a press conference by some McCain/Republican party flack. I was about to advocate that we all just utilize the "Ignore it and it will go away" tactic I've advised be applied to the Hilton sisters (with mild success, I might add), until I read this NY Times article, quoted below:

Mr. Wurzelbacher told Ms. Couric that his encounter with Mr. Obama was a matter of impulse.
“Neighbors were outside asking him questions, and I didn’t think they were asking him tough enough questions,” he said.

He went on, “You know, I’ve always wanted to ask one of these guys a question and really corner them and get them to answer a question,” he said, “for once instead of tap dancing around it. And unfortunately I asked the question, but I still got a tap dance.”

He added, “Almost as good as Sammy Davis Jr.”

I mean...did that just happen?!? Am I the only one who read that?!? More importantly, this moron's grousing about how he's eventually going to make enough to be taxed (supposedly), and that he doesn't want to help out others since he worked so hard for his money and that would be "socialist" to pay more taxes, in order to make sure everyone in the United States is taken care of, not just the Racist, selfish and stupid, all in one fell swoop? Amazing. It takes a country as great as ours to spit out ninnies like this.

I need a Scotch.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Chihuahua Fatwah, Part II: The End Is Nigh!

You know when you see an old man with creepy eyes- the kind with those sort of milk white, opaque corneas- and he's lurching about on the F train, clad in some sort of dun-colored garment, decrying the end of the world as we all know it? And you sort of snicker, and turn up your iPod, and shove your nose further into the copy of The New Yorker you're half-reading, half using as a sort of mace to poke the person sitting next to you who keeps moving too close for comfort?

Well, sad to say it, but it would seem, based on this past week's box office #1 hit, that that old cuckoo man was right. Because there can be no other explanation for a film featuring dogs with CG animated mouths and slightly xenophobic attitudes being a smash hit in a country where literacy is a given. Kiss your sweet ass goodbye, because the end of Western "civilization" is clearly nigh.

(stats via BoxOffice Mojo)

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Midrange Shopper

If I decide I want to purchase the now on sale Headless Animated Lifesize Headless Corpse Bride- and I'm not saying I'm for sure going to but, hypothetically- if I was to procure said beheaded newlywed, and position her directly at my desk at work, complete with her "...Animatronic decor accent" rolled up to top volume for 8 hours a day, Monday thru Friday, who's to stop me?

I mean really, who? Oh yeah?! YOU AND WHAT ARMY, JACKASS?!?

This product review below made my day, by the way. I have to say, it seems a bit harsh in spots. I mean, if your trachea was severed, there's gonna be some crushing so, let's not nitpick over vocal clarity, shall we?

Sometimes, I too seem very sad and would like "to maked you feel sorry" for me. Me and this robotic goth gal could have a few Ice brews and bitch it out about dudes in a big old way, huh? I mean...can she drink? Maybe I could pour it over the general neck wound? On second thought, better pass on those beers. Sorry, Morticia.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Got A Firm But Hard For You.

I know everyone who reads this blog (my Mom) is plenty sick of me squalling about what I think is funny, and what I think deserves attention from you, the comedy viewer blah blah blah. But honestly, I refuse to feel bad for consistently plugging the magic that is Tim and Eric, Awesome Show Great Job! to the cyber universe. It's the first show I've felt this selfish about, which is silly but so true.

I haven't gotten this preachy and amped up about things that WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH GODDAMMIT since I saw Garth Merenghi at 2 am when I had insomnia and it was on the Sci Fi Channel, or when my pal Carla Rhodes showed me a bootleg of Look Around You at her birthday party, or when I somehow caught a marathon of Spaced on BBC America (minus the last episode, which it took me 2 years to get to see finally)...all of these comedy obsessions happened a fair time ago, and then, there was pretty much nothing new that really floored me for a while. Then, when I was really sick with a fever and flipping thru the channels aimlessly, I stumbled upon Tim & Eric in the middle of Season One and became mildly (OK incredibly) obsessed. It makes me feel like I did when I first saw The State, amazed and like someone was acting out inside jokes that weren't inside at all but had that kind of intimacy.

Look, how often does a show make fun of mediocrity, media pretentiousness, blind consumerism, and of the daily awkwardness present in all human interaction- plus feature occasional fart gags- all in one fell swoop?! Tim & Eric is like a Looney Toon mated with an 80's public access talent show, broadcast straight from hell and with a 70s AM Gold soundtrack. Which suits me just fine.

If you haven't watched it STILL, then go to iTunes and pick up Seasons 2 & 3. You can also buy the Season 1 DVD, which I find to be a huge hit at all weekend away gatherings, seriously (it was a smash at the Ithaca Nuptials last weekend, for example). It gets a reaction out of pretty much everyone, which is more than I can say for Ghostbusters 2.

The finale for Season 3 of TAEASGJ is on Adult Swim on Cartoon Network tonight 12:30 AM. I think you should make the time to watch it, because I promise you, you will want to say you saw this show way back when years from now. These guys- and the people they work, shoot and write with- are really the future of American comedy for people who truly love it. I, for one, am so glad to for that, and I look forward to whatever they produce from here on out. Great job!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Jar Full of Roaches: Candid Snap

Enjoy this snap from Anya Garrett...delightful! This was from our postcard photoshoot. Postcard, you say? That's right, postcards for our all new sketch show! Details to follow, suckers!

Brandy & Sara in:


Directed by Oren Brimer

Tuesdays @ 9:30 PM thru October 2008
The P.I.T. 154 W. 29th Street $5

Comedy duo Brandy Barber and Sara Jo Allocco present an all new sketch show, directed by Oren Brimer. Some simp may have said that life is just a bowl full of cherries, but Brandy & Sara think it's more like a jar full of roaches. Will there be demented work out videos? Seething hostility expressed thru offers of kindness? Screeching? You betcha. And one lucky guest will win his or her very own Jar Full Of Roaches at each and every show.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

We need a little Xmas, right this very minute...

So summer was like, 10 minutes long, am I right? IS THIS THING ON?!? I'm all a-wiggly to head up to gorgeous Ithaca for the wedding of two friends this weekend. I remember looking at this event as the amazing cap off of the summer and now, here it finally is!

It was nice and fall-like, very chilly today (which may be due to our overstimulated central air in the office but I digress) and I got that familiar rush I do at this time of the year. It's one of unmitigated glee of realizing my FAVORITE season has arrived. I love the fall and winter, love all the holidays and celebrating and gorging. I just got a stomach dip of excitement when I realized there would be honest to god snow soon!!! Mostly I am thrilled to go back to California and see my family. All of the sudden visions of aging basset hounds and deep fried turkey and my Dad's artillery punch are dancing in my head.

Yay to sleet and snow and hail and puddles! Yay to sweaters and scarves and coats and down comforters! yay to tights and cardigans and snow boots! Yay to getting drunk with all the other orphans on Thanksgiving in Williamsburg and having an impromptu scarf-wrapped-on-your-head-like-a-burka dance jam to Soulja Boy! Most of all yay to me maybe molesting someone (or multiple people) under the mistletoe at my annual, poorly planned and shoddily exectuted holiday BROOKLYN FRIENDSHIPS (TM) party! ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!!! WHAT I LIKE!!! LOOK AT ME SOME MORE!

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Want That One!

I may have to get HBO just to see all six episodes of Little Britain USA. If you haven't caught the original Little Britain in re-runs on BBC America before, go out now and get the DVDs, because you're really going to be pleased with them. And if not then you're an ass.


the Comedy Snob.

Friday, September 05, 2008

Baffled, Perplexed and Peeved.

May I ask you a question? How is it that, in the past two months, I have had two separate experiences with two very different men who have made very surprising passes at me (let's just say they weren't simply being "friendly" and leave it at that), and whom I come to find out, AFTER THE FACT, have girlfriends? Is there a sign taped to my back that says "IF YOU ARE IN A COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP PLEASE PLANT ONE ON ME"? Because if so could someone please alert me to this in the future? Thunks.

When did I become the "Other Woman"? I am no vixen! I'm your pal. You know- that girl who likes the original 3 Star Wars flicks and NHL games and lots and lots of Miller High Life. The Other Woman is always mani/pedicured, uses things like hair spray and cold cream, and cares about shit like The Hills. She thinks most anything fun is "icky" and prances around in kitten heels in a perpetual cloud of some thick, floral perfume. I have my lady-like moments, but being a femme fatale is not something I perceive myself to be...and certainly not a vampy home wrecker.

I don't get it. But I do know this. It makes me really dislike boys and the idea of dating one seriously. I mean, this is how guy friends of MINE are acting to ME! Their so-called "friend"! May sound sexist but, sorry. That's where I'm at.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Let Me Go.

I loved this song so much when I was little. It brings back memories of listening to bad AM radio broadcast out of Tijuana on a tiny pink & purple transistor radio my folks game me for Christmas, rollerskating in the cul-de-sac, playing dress up in the front yard with all my girlfriends, slicking on bubble gum Bonne Bell Lipsmacker, the ever-present California smell of fresh moved green grass enveloping all those lazy days. It's also clearly a song that was obviously responsible for the gestation of what would prove to be my lifelong obsession with all things British. A happy memory all around, really.

The last time I was in love with someone, I remember lying in the dark in his bedroom, listening to his music. This song came on randomly, and I felt such a visceral connection to it and to him. I felt like I was going to cry, but because I was happy. I was so overwhelemed by the purity of the moment- of something so dear from my past merging seamlessly with something so loaded and delicate and lovely that was pregnant with promise. I stared at him in the dark and thought to myself, this is meant to be. This is magic. Being in love is magic.

And then we broke up and I realized it's all a bunch of fucking lies and bullshit and exhausting theatrics and blah, blah, blah. But this song is still savage. Enjoy Let Me Go by Heaven 17.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Sometimes, the answer is just no.

I had a birthday this week, and with it came the usual ruminations on life and its various trials and tribulations. I decided to throw myself a party where I gave out complimentary drink tickets and spent a ton on food and drinks and handmade invitations, because I think more and more that I am not going to get married. Well, let me rephrase that, I don't plan on a silly "traditional" (whatever THAT means) mnarriage cermemony for my wedding, if I have one at all. They simply do not appeal to me.

As we sat out on her deck and ate supper the other night, Sara Jo asked me what my favorite wedding was that I had ever been to and I was stumped. I mean, I loved seeing the people who I was close to being happy so there were no losers in the bunch, per se. But I wasn't totally thrilled with any of them either. The last wedding I went to had an alcohol cut off so that dampened the fun significantly, obviously. I guess I feel that weddings tend to turn into "grown up proms" and that the wrong things get focused on. It becomes about showing off to people, submitting yourself to judgment, doing what everyone else thinks is right, demanding useless presents, and just being a stupid consumer and feeding into the corporate machine. Do you really mean to tell me that because you spent $30,000 on a cookie cutter church ceremony that that means the commitment you have with your partner is that much more superior? I don't buy it, literally. All those ideals were fed to you by an industry that profits from you acting like a money squandering loon hellbent on buying romance, happiness and status. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that to me seems to contain nothing remotely close to celebrating love.

Sara Jo wanted to discuss a book she'd read some quotes from, I Don't: A Contrarian View On Marriage, by Susan Squire. She was appalled by the what she had found out, which was that the true symbolism of giving away the bride by her father was not at all kind, sweet, touching or cute, but in fact signified nothing less than property being passed between two men (IE, dowry). Myself being the angry feminist cynic, I was in the know. But I think often women, even the smartest of us, don't question why these things happen and continue to give them power by not doing so. For example, why diamond rings? Why not something else? How did that come to pass? This excellent column from by Ken Mondschein may really upset some people. Good. I hope so. You should be upset, because everyone should know that newly purchased diamonds are clearly for dimwits.

Back to the beginning: I was glad to throw that kind of shindig for my party, I like being generous. Why wait around for a wedding to celebrate how much you love the people in your life? Why wait to force them to stare at you in some overpriced silly dress for hours on end like it's some sort of miracle that you put on a bunch of satin? Seems lame. Now, getting them all drunk, stuffed full of food and making them dance up a storm, THAT is what appeals to me. So if I ever do decide to commit, that's what I think I'd like to focus on. Not on me, or how much cash I can shit out, or how fakey sicky sweet I can appear during the "Daddy Daughter dance" (bleech), and so on and so forth. None of that.

Now, this line of relationship thinking also inevitably leads to me wondering about kids. This is the first year I have been really unsure about them. I do like kids, I think I want to have one....I think? Then I read how some poor girl was sexually assaulted by a nut job and am convinced I do not want to bring another human into the world for fear they'd have to deal with that or worse yet, that they'd do that. I would have the serial killer kid that murdered the class gerbil, just my luck!

So this was all rattling around in my mostly empty head this morning as I was getting dressed for work, half-heartedly listening to the radio. Then I heard a really compelling guest discussing his new book on the Brian Leherer show (an AM NPR fave). The book is called The Dominant Animal: Human Evolution and the Environment. Its co-author, Stanford professor Paul Ehrlich, was talking about a prospect that truly fascinates me, population control. All of the sudden I started to focus less on the fact that I'm not sure about kids yet and instead on the fact that we're (meaning specifically the Western world for this instance) ruining the earth with the selfish need to procreate...because it is, when you really look at it, selfish. People AGAIN don't think, they just do and too often, to boot as the population numbers soar. I understand if you've ALWAYS wanted kids, I guess...but can't you just adopt? People who whine that it's not the same, to me, seem like they're treating children like one more possession by saying that parenting is fundamentally invalid unless the child is but another product to be-yep-consumed. Freaks me out. All of this. This is why I drink so much. Anyways, now I feel guilty about having kids at all. Maybe I should just adopt one of my friend's kids and be the batty old aunt that sends them ridiculously expensive gifts that their folks would never dream of spoiling them with? I'm cool with it. After all, it takes a village to raise a child. I can be the part of the village that doesn't have to put up with being shit on , yelled at, or woken up at 3 am by cops dragging my drunk offspring home from getting caught dry humping on a park bench. I like the sound of that.

Lastly, I just saw this really interesting essay via my beloved Jezebel about a 24 year old woman opting, without apology, for a new form of sterilization. The whole piece- and ensuing comments- is/are quite thought provoking. And this, in conjunction with the aforementioned book have me really pondering away. Hopefully if you're reading this yammering, so are you.

Or not. You could ignore this, say I'm full of it, that you're having your Catholic wedding and your 2.5 kids (allowing for miscarriage there) and that I'm a crackpot. Your choice.

But at least I feel like I'm MAKING one, or thinking about making one...instead of letting one be made for me.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


I wonder why girls get pregnant so young these days?'s a mystery I guess!

Worse yet, this is from 1983. Eeeeek.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Speaking of animated canines...

I, from as long as I can recall, was OBSESSED with boys and making out with them. I was never, ever one of those girls that thought kissing was "gross" or "yucky". I always, ALWAYS was so fascinated with it and in search of it. If you know adult me you will also know, not much has changed. Ok, let's put it more frankly: ain't a damn thing changed.

Anyway I remember being so obsessed with wanting to kiss a boy while this song was playing. Other 1980 make out music musts for the then 6 year old Brandy? Don't mind if I do!

Don't Walk Away, ELO- from Xanadu:

Tonight's The Night, Rod Stewart:

Kiss You All Over, Exile:

Annnnnd, gross.

Chihuahua Fatwah.

I grimly accept my murder those responsible for this. Death to the Hollywood infidels!

Thursday, July 10, 2008

I'd Rather Be A Fool.

I fucking LOVE E.G. Daily and I demand that someone re-make this dress in time for my upcoming birthday. If you haven't seen this movie, we can't be friends. Sorry.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Switch It Up!

Oh no- it's my pleasure!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, I just needed to "SWITCH IT UP!". Just like David Silver!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Almost immediately, I felt sorry.

This teaser trailer about made me keel over in my chair. Mostly because, I am going to see Liz Phair sing Exile In Guysville tomorrow night, and I keep almost crying when I think about it. Which is so lame. But this, this album in particular, is my mecca, you know? I watch this and I see Liz Phair and Urge Overkill and all of a sudden I'm in my dorm room at Long Beach State, in black matte Docs and fishnets and my dad's jeans I made into baggy cut offs, throwing a flannel over my Beastie Boys concert t-shirt and getting ready to go to the Fabulous Foothill Tavern to see Guttermouth and the Lunachicks, cradling a 40 of Mickey's in the crook of one arm and a Rentals CD in the other, and wishing this guy I was in love, love, love with named J.T. Costa would call me but figuring he wouldn't because he was on acid at the Luscious Jackson show in Santa Barbara.

This was back when the Polaroids that make up the creepy, sexy liner of Exile In Guysville still existed...back when cell phones were only for use inside cars, and everyone had land lines and answering machines with special codes you dialed in to check your messages. Fairly pre-internet, unless you were a huge nerd- so, not so much with the email and the IM and the texting. People had pagers. You could still smoke everywhere, all the time. I'm going to stop now. The point of this is to say:

I forgive you, you awesome crazy broad. I forgive you.

Also, I just found out that the Foothill closed and that made me start to cry. I saw so many awesome bands there. I remember going to see that dog. there and being so drunk I don't even know how I got home. Good times.


I don't appreciate being followed around and filmed for the purposes of a god-damned video. My life is PRIVATE thanks very much, down to flaunting my oft mentioned true life dream of having myself animated by Don Bluth (who did the sequence in the film Xanadu that I wish I had not seen because I think that's when, right then and there, that I was ruined for life). How RUDE.

Oh wait...this video isn't starring me? It's just an alarming approximation of my life at the present? Oh. Well.


Enjoy the Scissor Sister's Mary. And try not to make eye contact with me for a day or two. K, thanks.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

It has been a shitty week.

In the past week:

I acted like a drunk idiot and did something I regret incredibly. Let me rephrase that, I acted like a drunk 22 year old idiot, and did something I regret incredibly. So much the worse for me.

Some nimrod at my office came to my desk and informed me, since we seem to be having some sort of summer cleaning initiative, that she "loved" my "creativity" but that I was going to have to remove certain things from my desk area. Such as my pristine condition, 1980 bright yellow Animalympics lunchbox. Keep in mind it is strategically placed so I don't have to be on display the entire day to everyone who passes by my desk. Sometimes, we all want a little respite from small talk so we can focus and get things done, am I right? I know I am. When this fellow employee said this to me, I wanted to reply with so many cuss types of things to her condescending peaked little rat face. Instead I stared at her for a long time, then went back to looking at my screen and just sighed loudly, and she scampered off to ruin someone else's day. I know it's just her job, but something about it chapped my hide. It was such a "junior high cheerleader speaking down to an audio visual nerd" moment and I was really not in need of it at that particular time.

Speaking of work, because I know everyone wants to know more about mine, my computer died and all my hard drive stuff seems to be lost. Including my work iTunes. Bleeech. All my Girl Talk mp3s, all gone, poof! Not insurmountable but not ideal.

On a recent Friday night visit to Long Island City, I had a moment of sadness when I realized my nastiness had come back to bite me in the ass, and did so in a public fashion. While I stand by my opinions, I also had the fact that when you say mean things even if they are true and done in an effort to protect people you care for, the results are not always pretty. It's not fun having morals and expecting others to, especially when they then turn around and undermine you. The people I think I care the most about seem, especially in this last year, to disappoint me the most.

To top it all off, I found out an old friend of mine had passed away about a week ago, and I'd been so wrapped up in my own stupid little egocentric baloney I didn't know.

There's more, but it's so stupid I can't even write about it on this, this being potentially the world's most self-absorbed blog. Yeah, it's stuff that's THAT stupid.

Instead of pouting and moping and feeling bad all day again today, I decided to do something about it. My friend Sean had mentioned a website to me called Kiva, where you could make micro loans to individuals in developing nations. I went, picked two people whose loan requests I liked, and with the click of a button, felt instantly better. Like I was doing something of value. Instead of sitting around whinging, wasting time, which some people who I really cared about and admired, don't have the luxury of doing anymore.

You should check out today. With a loan of just $25, you can change lives.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Thinking of a master plan...nah.

Someone likes herself this video, which will surely keep American Apparel's pornographic swimwear line flying off the shelves, thereby bolstering the recent court woes of its Grand poo-bah pervert, Dov Charney.

Why does everyone hate so much on American Apparel ads, BTW? For the record, I like how not every woman in them is a white super skinny blonde, and that they even show their subject's pores, bruises, scars and even cellulite. You know, how real human females look when half-dressed-- not airbrushed plastic-filled freaks with hair color that's not bleached to shit? I, for one, dig it.