Monday, November 28, 2005
Your French name is~Ardant~It means lively.You are always finding some way to get attention
and are always the life of the party. You will
do almost anything for a laugh and are very fun
to be around. Things often get out of hand when
you're around, however.
What is your French name?
brought to you by
"Ms. Brandy Barber"
Re: Ms. Brandy Barber has sent you an Evite Invitation
Nov 27, 2005 1:31 PM
finally back in the city
can't wait to catch up
small question-- will your friend be at your party, my promising new boy fell spell under the guilt of his ex girlfriends jealousy of our budding relationship, so he wants sometime to " think it over and assuage his guilt"
oh well ya know those sensitive boys
I have a few small coals in the fire, but want to open up my possibilities
how are you ?
I am in a snit. An absolute snit. The person who sent me this is beyond hot. And this person should not have to deal with this nonsense. Not at all. No way, no how.
What is this ex drama?! SERIOUSLY. I want you to know something. If you're an ex, and you have the NERVE to be "jealous" of your ex's potential new partner, why don't you get f'd in the a? I mean have you NO SHAME?!
I am not above being petty and jealous, as you're well aware if you've been so bored to tears that you've read this cry-for-help diatribe disguised as a "blog". Jealousy is natural, it's a human emotion, totally normal. HOWEVER: Do you think I'd even STOOP so low as to admit it out loud, especially to an ex?! Hell no! It's called "dignity"- look it up. I mean, do you really think I'd ever let myself get caught out even feigning interest in the person my ex is making time with? And this bitch- that my friend sends me an email about- was dating some wuss who so can't let go of the fucking past-relationship melodrama that she RUINS A PERFECTLY DECENT NEW RELATIONSHIP for him?! And he LETS HER?! Christ on a bike does this gaytard leave his balls ather house when he goes out at night? What, do they still live in the same dorm?! That's not sensitive, it's just lame. Sensitive would be taking note of the feelings of people in your present,not some over-idealized past that clearly ended for a reason. Get over yourselves (cpoyright Aram Monisoff, 2005) I mean, I blame him as much as her fucking controlling, insecure ass but still...Jesus, how sad. It almost makes me feel so sorry for you, fucking whiny-ass freak ex-girl, whoever you are, that I don't want to choke you. Almost.
I have to say: I have had to deal with way too much of this bullshit lately, both personally and via my guy & girl friends. This email today, however, is the straw that broke the Brandy's back.
So here it is. If you used to date someone, and now you're "just friends", keep it that way, you jackass. I'm "just friends" with a lot of my exes and I am happy to tell you, when it comes to their new(er) relationships? I don't speak about it AT ALL unless asked to. And sometimes even then- I keep my harshest opinions to myself. I NEVER reference ANYTHING about our prior relationship to that new person other that that we were and are friends. And you can bet there is not one speck of photo evidence that we dated hanging out in the open anywhere in my house, because why dwell on what's gone?
Ex-girls (or as the case may be for my pals, guys): We don't want your "input", "involvement", "protection", meddling, or plain old manipulative insecurity clouding our good time with a gentleman/lady caller. And if you can't handle the fact that they've moved on, well then, beat it, you asshole. Because I will gladly kick your ass to the curb if you so much as cross your eyes at me or any of my friends.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Instead I am going to dedicate this to Bally, a dear friend who passed away yesterday and who I hope is sitting on a silk pillow, eating jumbo shrimp and lapping water out of cut crystal glasses. This one's for you, big guy. Extra ear scratches and shoulder-blade rubs.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Monday, November 21, 2005
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
I am a terrible insomniac, and when something agitates me I can't even consider slumber. But right now, I just want to be asleep.
I will write about this odd behaviour when I awake at sunrise. After my morning jog. OK just kidding, we all know I think running is the dumbest exercise ever next to rollerblading.
Good night, sires and madams.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
This place was so awful, really. Like, you walk in and it has stupid steam coming out of everywhere and assholes willingly paying $12 for a cocktail. It's the kind of bar I'd never go to, and when forced to, I fantasize about burning it to the ground. My hatred was compounded by the disgusting "TGIF" trolls patrolling the dance floor. I just want to go to the bathroom, no I don't want to dance with you OR the 5 frat brothers you STILL hang out with. I almost left right when I walked in, but Danielle came and guided me to Sara. I then amused myself by daring Sara to do awful things, such as sneak into the janitor's closet, steal a mop and start cleaning the dance floor, fake a pratfall, pretend to fall and yank down a cheesy gauze curtain, and best of all to dance with a buffoon in a button up with his tie untied, but hanging around his shoulders like a scarf your grandpa wears over his jacket. We just got more and more rowdy as we got drunker, and kept screaming about how bad the club was. It got really dead, and it was freezing for no reason, and we started taking pictures of people to be assholes. I believe there was mooning. Then, suddenly, it started filling up with girls in bad halter tops with back-fat spilling out from their strapless bras and glitter body spray. The reek of Hugo Boss aftershave was too much to bear. All around us, it became Bollywood Night at the club, and we were soon walled in by a very enthusiastic crowd of 20-something Indian men and women. They steered plenty clear of us, and I assume they must have thought we were insane. It was awful. Feast your eyes upon the magic.
Yes, Sara IS wearing gloves and a turtleneck because THEY HAD THE FUCKING AIR CONDITIONERS ON for no reason, it was not the least bit crowded or hot until about 12 am when the Bollywood dance party began. Boy, were they glad to see us there.
Sara slammed down Giulia's wine glass in a show of outrage.
The end result of anger. If you look to the lower left you can see my Maker's on the rocks. Also, steam poured out from the manky water baths from under these cubes,so I dumped a pineapple juice that I found into one. You're welcome.
Giula was less than amused by the club projecting slides reading "VAPOR" on all available surfaces. She kept asking, "Shit where am I again...oh yeah VAPOR!!!!!!!!" Here she lets the vapors move her.
Again, the creepy vapors make you do strange things, like bite butts and flip off the Vapor slide projector.
This sums up the shitty attitudes we 3 lovely ladies have perfected.
I'm an extremely sensitive, respectful person. But I was fucking cold. Also I guess I got married recently.
Adorable Oliver hugs me while grabbing my boob, which he said felt "very nice, firm". I am not getting ready to leave, which would indicate common sense since it was 1 am or so. Nope- just freezing in that stupid club. Yes, it was that cold.
Dave Pirner from Soul Asylum helps me select my colors. It turns out: I'm an autumn.
1) Cute guy reading on the train, very serious, brow furrowed. His blacks didn't match but he had a great haircut, thus cancelling out the faux pas. The book was Persepolis 2.
2) Tall bearded guy in a wool trenchcoat and gorgeously tailored suit by the courthouse (lawyer?) who put a small white hotel washcloth on his head when it started raining to be a smartass, which made me laugh.
3) Earnest, angry emo kid in a striped sweater and Converse, a little too short for me but still respectfully checking me out. Go home and write a song about me, my little tormented artist.
4) 17-ish year old standing outside the comics store, angrily smoking while I stared in at the new display. I could see him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, perhaps confirming my gender to make sure that women really do like comic books. I smiled at him, and he thought about it for a second, then smiled back.
There was something very tender, very dear about each of them and I truly loved each of them for it. Which is silly and stupid, but it's thr truth nonetheless. I wish I didn't get so emotional, that I could, like a robot, only ponder emotion versus experience it. Being passionate gets me into trouble constantly.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Oh Kendra. Out of the mouth of babes.
The Girls Next Door never fails to amuse, and/or antagonize.
I had to laugh at Bridget getting upset about being asked about sexuality during the press junket for her Playboy cover. Yes, that's right. She was UPSET about being asked about SEX when she was promoting her PLAYBOY NAKED LADY COVER. I am shaking my head right now. She's the most irritating one by far.
Also, Kendra was upset that Hef was referred to as a "dirty old man". She's right. Because really, how dare they?! A geriatirc who fucks multiple women who are embryos in comparison to his age? That's not dirty. That's straight up Mormon temple. Word. He's 80-ish. She's 20. Ick. Sorry, Kendra, you seem like fun to hang out with but, ick.
I do love this show but for some reason, tonight it showed a bald spot bigger than the one Hef combs over daily. I'd have more respect for the "girls" - especially that mutton dressed as lamb Bridget (who's 40 is she's a day, she needs to lose the 32 year old shit!) if they just up and 'fessed that they're selling themselves like a package of turkey dogs. Don't try and be classy or inject some sort of dignity in what you do. You show your pussy for money. C'mon, now! Does it cure cancer? No. Is it wrong? No, I don't think so. Humans like sex, and being intersted in it is OK by this porn-savvy feminist (although frankly I prefer real versus airbirshed silicone but that's me). But seriosuly? Don't give me that "Everyone has to be nice to me and baby talk me because I'm blonde and wear baby dolls professionally" baloney. Don't want to hear it, go have your anus bleached.
Take a cue from Jenny McCarthy, who is smart, funny and knows how not to try and put glitter on a turd. She has no issue taking her clothes off for money and has fun doing it, without trying to act as if she's entitled to any respect she doesn't earn. That she's a single parent makes me like her even more.
In closing: I want to yank out Bridget's extensions.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Friday, November 04, 2005
It makes me want to throw up. But go ahead, buy that funky fur-trimmed coin purse to use for one season! That rabbit that was anally electrocuted and skinned would have died anyway, right? You just keep telling yourself that, princess.
I look at this, I look across the room at my cat, and think how much I'd like to punch the mall shopping anorexics who actually buy this gauche shit in the cunts. I blame Paris Hilton, who I think most likely smells far worse than a mink and therefore should be electrocuted, skinned and made into snappy little ballet slippers.
Yay for heros!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Psuedo-Clockwise from the top:
April as Velma from Scooby Doo & me as "Last Fling Before The Ring!" Obnoxious Bachelorette Party Bride; Anne as Anne, Me, Bri as Wayne & Sara as Bedford-Stop-On-The-L-Train-Girl are the Kevin Allison Fan Club; This was just the line for the bar; Ms. Piggy Likes Cake!; We were dancing but somehow we fell...
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Psuedo-Clockwise from the top:
Your Six Party Hosts- Danielle, Angela, Annie, Sara, Brandy & Giulia; Brandy & Sara are in love; Kevin Allison is our hero; Max as Corporate Evil gets the treatment from me; Liam outs the moves on Rosanne and her roomie.