Valentine's Day, Part Two.

Valentine's Day, Part One.

KID ROCK SEX TAPE WITH SCOTT CREED! JESUS WEEPS!

2/16/06 11am EST
Scott Stapp and Kid Rock Sex Tape Revealed!!!
There's more trouble on the horizon for newlywed and Creed frontman Scott Stapp, 32. Us Weekly has learned exclusively that a sex tape involving the singer and fellow musician Kid Rock, 35, is set to be released. The tape shows both stars involved in explicit sex acts on a tour bus while touring together six years ago. The two don't engage in any sex acts together, but are seen and heard talking to one another during the acts. Footage was acquired by the Red Light District, the same company that distributed Paris Hilton's infamous sex tape One Night in Paris. 'We acquired the tape from a third party' says Red Light's president David Joseph. 'We haven't decided exactly what we are doing with it but our goal is to release it towards the middle or end of this year.' Representatives for Kid Rock and Stapp could not be reached. Stapp wed former Miss New York Jaclyn Nesheiwat, 25, on February 10 in Miami. He was arrested for public drunkeness the following day at LAX airport while enroute to his honeymoon in Hawaii. Stapp was treated for substance abuse in December 2004.
As the not-yet-divorced Jessica Simpson

Building A Mystery.

In pants pocket:

Half-chewed candy conversation heart
$1
Post it note with the following scrawled on it: 11J889 THIS TIME I KNOW IT'S FOR REAL
Gold Casio Illuminator (men's)
Lollipop stick


What. Happened. Last. Night.

Will YOU Be My Valentine?!?

Please, please. ?uestlove, I am asking in my nicest inside voice. Just cram it in. I am very intersted in making the hot hot music, the hot music with you. Nude.














In other news, the rest of you need to be here in a few hours:

Brandy & Sara's

2nd Annual DOWN WITH LOVE: A Bitter Karaoke Ball
Tuesday, February 14th, 2006
from 6:00 pm sharp until Brandy drinks herself to pleasantly numb
at the infamous Winnie's Bar downtown, downtown to Chinatown
104 Bayard @ Baxter

My Love Does It Good.

Oh, you sing it Paul McCartney & Wings. You just sing it out now.

CLASSY LADY ALERT!
Someone is having themselves a fancy little party! There's cigs, mini Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and a box of wine. A box of wine, Wings, and thou. "Thou" being this blog.

Sheesh, get a room you two.

Now I Lost My St. Christopher, Now That I Kissed Her.

Hey gang, it's yer old pal Brandy, hummin' comin' atcha. Here's a newsflash:

L O V E
S U X.

If you don't believe me, lookit.



























































But you don't have to take it. You can give love the fucking double middle finger. See?! Like this!



















How?! You have the fucking audacity to ask me that to my fucking face?! Here it is dipshit:

Brandy & Sara's

2nd Annual DOWN WITH LOVE: A Bitter Karaoke Ball
Tuesday, February 14th from 6:00 pm sharp until Brandy drinks herself to pleasantly numb
at the infamous Winnie's Bar downtown, downtown to Chinatown
104 Bayard @ Baxter

Be there, and bring all your friends with loose morals and large wallets. Couples welcome. I will not throw things this year. Unless you sing "Reunited". Then you're getting punched in the fucking neck.

"Essagerato," she said—exaggerator.*

The Heart-Repair Calculator.

Time is the great healer. But how long will it take? After much study, this is the best formula for getting an estimate:

Short relationships (3 MONTHS OR LESS)

count the number of weeks that you knew the person before the relationship turned romantic, and then divide this number by 2
count the number of weeks that you were romantically involved
add-up A and B
count the average number of days per week you saw him/her during the romance, and divide this number by 2
multiply C and D - that's how many weeks it will take to begin feeling normal

Example: Lou met Barb. After 4 weeks they started dating. They dated for 8 weeks, seeing each other an average of 4 nights per week. Then Barb left. It will take Lou's heart about 20 weeks (or just under 5 months) to recover.

Mid-length relationships (1 YEAR OR LESS)

count the number of months that you were romantically involved
count the average number of days per week you saw him/her during the romance, and divide this number by 2
multiply A and B - that's how many months it will take to begin feeling normal

Example: Dave met Sandra. They had a passionate romance for 8 months, seeing each other about 3 times per week. Then Sandra left. It will take Dave's heart about 12 months (1 year) to recover.

Long relationships (1 YEAR OR MORE)

estimate how happy you were (day to day) on a scale of 1 to 3
estimate how physically attractive you found your mate on a scale of 1 to 3
add up A and B - and then divide this number by 2-- this will give you a number in years
subtract one year from the total

Example: John was happily married to Mary (he ranked his happiness a 2 out of 3. He found Mary very attractive, a 3 out of 3. Mary leaves. John's heart will take 1 ½ years to recover.


This is odd and sort of fascinating. It is maddeningly simplistic, but it also compells you a bit. Kind of like horoscopes. Or Mad Libs.

I woman I knew & used to occasionally tolerate got dumped by this guy she was seeing who I always thought was gay (I still do in fact). She was devastated and she started seeing a psychic. At one point, this idiot was at an ATM pulling out hundreds, crying, about to march over to a blatant swindler in order to have the fact that she was in a denial-based love with a gay guy crystal-balled out of her empty head. I pride myself on never being that dumb. Also, if I could pull that much money out of a teller right now you bet your sweet can I'd be at Agent Provocateur suiting up for a much needed humping. I mean, let's not be rash here people! I have standards!







* Christopher Castellani, The Saint of Lost Things
Picture from found.com

"I wouldn't be disappointed in you, I just wouldn't laugh." Kathy Barber, 12/21/04

I'll Be Good To You.
Dead Baby Shower.
The Other Other Sister.
My Wife Says The Darndest Things!
Pirates, Bears, Wizards and Robots!
Step-lovers.
Fueneral Hook-up.
You're Embarrassing Myself.
I Saw Xmas And My Hat Got Stuck.
Family Pet Salon.
Everyone Politely Tolerates You.

"'Tourrete's Trent D'Arby?!' Not only is that offensive it doesn't work as a clue." - Ricky Gervais.

Push Up Ya Lighter If Ya Start The Fi-yah.*

*I want a shirt that reads that acrost the bosom from Okayplayer.com.

CATHY! LOOK OUT!

from AdFreak.com:

Nicole Richie set to bathe New Yorkers in Diet Dr Pepper

For New Yorkers who already despise Valentine’s Day, here’s more bad news: We’ve just heard that Nicole Richie will be leading an army of Cadbury Schweppes drones on Tuesday in handing out free samples of Diet Dr Pepper all across the city. We’re all for “falling in love with great taste,” as the press release puts it, but we don’t get where this “Hollywood sweetheart” (also from the press release) fits in. A brand manager at the company says he wants to emphasize that “there’s nothing diet about Diet Dr Pepper.” If you don’t want people thinking “diet,” why hire a skeleton? Unfortunately, there’s no map available of Ms. Richie’s route, so you’ll all just have to fend for yourselves.
—Posted by Tim Nudd

Oh, dear. Ms. Hannon shan't be pleased. I certainly am not.

"Sexy" Annie- My Finest Halloween Costume To Date, c. 1995.

Candy.
Originally uploaded by Brandy For Sale..

I enjoy cramming shit in.

I Am Asking Nicely.

Duncan Sheik, will you PLEASE. Just, you're killing me with that shit. PUT IT IN ME ALREADY. DAMN, son!

All In?

The Onion Sociey For The Preservation Of Alcohol & Alcohol Traditions Presents The Aristocrats CD Release Party

The Onion Society For The Preservation Of Alcohol & Alcohol Traditions will convene Monday, February 20 at Knitting Factory's Tap Bar to celebrate the release of The Aristocrats CD, the audio companion to the hit film, now available from V2 Records.

From 7 to 9 p.m., The Society will buy your Chivas Regal Scotch whiskey drinks (while supplies last) as you take pleasure in the unspeakable obsenity that comes from 92 comedians telling one joke: "The Aristocrats"!

Must be 21+. To attend, please RSVP to nypromo@theonion.com with "Aristocrats RSVP" in the subject. Your friends are welcome, too.

Knitting Factory Tap Bar
74 Leonard St.
(212) 219-3006
FREE w/ RSVP

Let Me Play With Your Panty Line.

I have decided to make a god-damned wish list because, WHY NOT that's why. I mean, really, people. What are the choices here? Let us review them.

Dedicate my free time to helping needy children learn to make panninis? (S N O R E)

OR

Blatantly 'n' shamelessly beg for material items me likey? (J-J-J-Jackpot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Now, I am more than happy to send you a picture of my pedicure or, like, my underpants or something. That is if you're that naughty type of grampa that intends to bankroll my disgusting consumerism in exchange for such delicacies. Otherwise BEAT IT.

See, Mom?! I'm harnessing my creativity in order to afford the lifestyle I so deeply desire after all. Now aren't you proud of your pretty little Ivy League drop out?

Free Association!!!

As threatened/promised, here are my mortifying drunk "notes" taken in serial killer scrawl during my virgin viewing of the popular film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind by French sensation Michel Gondry. I Post them here as a sort of hungover punishment to myself for being such an ass. Will this prevent me from repeating this type of demoralizing behavior in the future? Oh, hells no. Do enjoy!



I shouldn't have done this.

Oh god. I love Clementine what an absolutely gorgeous name. I'd like to name my daughter that someday. Ha ha. "Someday". (drinks more wine)

Bombay Sapphire! Product placement I appluad.

I want to cry RIGHT NOW something in me wants to cry bad choices

Oh god no! They're so cute laughing on the ice, I hate how he look sat her, like he loves her already. Stab.

I shouldn't have done this.

Jim Carrey is crying. I can't do this maybe I should turn this off (drinks more instead)

I wish they had cast a real actress instead of that skag Kirsten Dunst. She indicates all of her lines and I don't believe her performance for a second.

"I am making a birdhouse!" David Cross is a delight.

Would I do it [the proceedure] if I could? I think Porter talked to me about this when this film came out.

God he's a British actor [Tom Wilkinson] and look how good he is. Kristen Dunst looks like a festering turd next to real actors. Like a fucking dauchsund at a giraffe party. That dumb bitch.

I could not have picked a worse time to do this. Yippee. Valentine's Day. (drinks more)

This makes me feel so sad, I am ont he verge of tears again. Also it's freaking me out, making me think of when I had to have an MRI after the second time I had a seizure. This makes me feel like having a panic attack.

"By morning you'll be gone. The perfect ending to this piece of shit story." If only it was that easy Jim Carrey.

EWWWWW I loathe that Kisten Dunst. She is gross. I bet that's the only thing she's ever had to eat in like, 3 years and she only did it because she was forced to per the script. Oh just hush up and have the makeup artist put more powder on you so you could looke pretty for your next shot you fucking whore.

I seem to be creepily in love with Jim Carrey. He is tall.

I hate the way that fucker Dunst can't even fake smoke a joint, she can't even do THAT right. YUCK.

She [Kate Winslet] has sparkly gloves like me. I'll call them my Clementine gloves from now on.

Grand Central Station, all marble. Makes me think of going upstate to teach this summer.

"You know me, I'm impulsive."

Fuck, a fucking needle, yikes.

I feel nauseous.

Humiliation.

Pope Alexander.

Elephants marching through New York. I will go to this this year. To do.

GROSS Kristen Dunst is icky & gross. GROSS. What if Sarah Polley was in this? It could have been so much better than it is, she is a fucking blemish on the ass of this otherwise amazing film. Just go put on your cheerleading outfit, you little troll no one likes you.

"You had the proceedure. You wanted it done so you could get past the..."

Jim Carrey's Canadian accent just came thru.

"If you wanna be with me, you're with me. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours." Yay for you Kate Winselt. You are a-fucking-mazing and only you could pull this off without sounding hacky. And in an American accent, natch.

I shouldn't be watching this. I really really shouldn't. Not right now. (finishes bottle)

God dammit I hate her gross barf teeth and her wool-crepe pieced eye brows they look like bad community theater beard pieces slathered on her huge forehead. ICK. Go put on your fake red wig and take off your bra so you can have a nipple hard on in Spiderman. That's where your only value lies you fucking empty-eyed vacant talentless vessel full of fucking nothing. You make me sick. You should be ashamed of yourself, calling yourself an actress. Just, just stop talking.

Holy shit, that's my Columbia professor that was first AD. There he is! He was great. He has a ranch in Montana with buffalo. I gave him a stuffed one after his class. In that course some cute smartass made a comment about the movie Fatso starring Dom DeLuise when we had Mark Romanec as a guest speaker and I was the only one who cracked up, I guess no one else in Columbia Film School had HBO as a kid or something.

Amazing. I wish I hadn't done that. I wish I had some Vicoden. (eats cheese bun instead)

This wine causes ennui.

I Make Smart Choices: Chapter 37.

Since I am in such a great mood and since this is the week before Valentine's Day, WHY NOT decide to finally sit down on that there couch and watch a film I've been meaning to see for over a year now. That's right, I decided to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! At midnight on a weeknight! What a super choice. Couldn't have timed it more perfectly with the upcoming holiday considering the role it plays in the film's storyline. Wow. Now if you'll excuse me I have another bottle of wine to polish off with my cat and a new box of Kleenex to tear into. Barf.

YET ANOTHER TIRESOME PHONE CHAT TRANSCRIPT FROM SUNDAY FEB. 5th, 2006 (THIS ONE'S FOR ALTUNA, WHO JUST LOVES THEM) :

My Mom: Well, this is a good time for you to do a physical housecleaning as well as an emotional one.

Me: (crying) Mom. Just. Ewww.

My Mom: (in cheery voice) I mean it, it will make you feel so much better. You can sweep and scrub down the countertops-

Me: (mutters) I can put my head into the oven.

My Mom: (ignores comment) Now won't that be better? Hmmm?

Tomorrow: I shall enter here the notes I scrawled as I was watching the film/bawling/gagging at the sight of Kirsten Dunst and her fucking vomit-stubs a.k.a. yellowed bulimia fangs. Keep in mind I myself was nauseous the entire time and felt on the edge of hysteria from the get go. This did not prevent me from chowing down Entenman's the whole time. Oh, dear, what a cinematic treat YOU'RE in for!

The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me).

Photo: So, so happy in some random Chicago bar, circa 2002.

People, please. I'm hurting here. Who wants to take Barber out and buy her enough scamp juice to get her good and happy-like? Who can win the make Brandy laugh or at least crack a fucking smile a thon? You? Or is it you? Someone. Please.

PHONE CALL TRANSCRIPT FROM EARLIER TODAY:

(My Mom enquires about NYC comedy)
My Mom: Does everyone have a drinking problem?
Me: Ummm, not more than any other person who does comedy in New York. You tend to be out drinking at least 3-4 nights a week.
My Mom: Do you have some sort of drinking problem?
Me: No, Mom. I don't make enough money for a real drinking problem. Also that takes a lot of commitment and you how I am about that.
My Mom: (silent)
Me: That was, it was a joke. My humor you love so much.
My Mom: (relieved) Oh, OK! (laughs politely)
Me: But seriously, I don't make enough money to be a drunk.

Burn Dead Ferrets.

Some great wit once said items in the home should be both useful and lovely to look at. I suppose to some this would qualify. Thanks to the Fab Anne W.

Almost Doesn't Count.

Thanks to the charming Lianne Stokes who was nice enough to have me help out at last night's Brutal Honesty in a last minute bit. There was cussing, screaming, and cupcakes were shoved in my nostrils. And that's how I like it.

Later, as is my way when confronted with tropical drinks that feature parasols and plastic monkeys I drank way too much and decided to stagger all about in search of naughty late night treats. I walked all the way from 14th & A to the Papaya King on 14th & 7th Ave. It was closed. Ah, well. I instead settled for a Snickers bar and

Me, Stokes and Sara.

the proffered card of some wierdo who thought it was appropriate to ask me out in a bodega. I guess he goes for the visably drunk type. I am fairly certain he is indeed a serial killer and I fully expect to see his photo any day now on NY1 in a man hunt montage. Needless to say, the card is now riding the rails on some random F train, jammed into a Dr. Zizmor advert for effect.

After arriving home I realized one of my curls was stiff with cupcake frosting, so I took a much needed drunken shower making sure to make as much noise as possible to torment my crazy roommate, The Ghost (see archives for full explanation). And then, it was off to sleep, quite pleased with the day. All in all, my meals yesterday consisted of a handful of Oreos, 2 cupcakes rammed in my mouth onstage, 4-5 alcoholic drinks, and a Snickers. I am clearly an adult who cares about her health. Ick.


"That girl is clearly a Dutch escort."--Brandy

"Who the fuck takes a Dutch escort to Otto's Shrunken Head!?"--Lianne

Brutal Honesty's One Year Anniversary!

TOSHIBA PICTURE FILES 2004-2005 1113
Originally uploaded by Brandy For Sale..

Come on down to Otto's Shrunken Head TONIGHT to catch the fantastic fun of this monthly storytelling series. You won't be sorry. I suggest you have about three Singapore Slings, but that's because I'm a damned drunk.

BRUTAL HONESTY: MY WORST BIRTHDAY EVER
8pm at Ottos Shrunken Head
14th Street btw Aves A & B.
No cover!!! (you cheap bastard)

featuring:
KATIE HALPER
BILLY WOOD
JENNY & GABE
JEN DZIURA
MOLLY REISNER

So Much Snickering.

I do so love you, Engrish.com.

Hip Hop Throwback.

Sometimes MTV2 makes me very very happy. This is one of those times. I just turned on Hip Hop Throwback randomly and I am delighted. I know, there's an identical entry to this from maybe a week ago. But it alwaysmakes me happy. And right now I don't feel like apologizing for that.

Besides, you tell me you don't think the sight of Dr. Dre ballroom dancing while chanting "Been There, Done That" isn't an absolute thrill. See? You can't.

Here are some songs I listened to recently and I liked them plenty.

They Call Me D Nice - D Nice
Caught Out There - Kelis
Funky Dividends - Three Times Dope
Izzo (H.O.V.A.) - Jay Z
Ain't No Half Steppin' - Big Daddy Kane
What More Can I Say (Remix) - MC Lyte feat. Milk D
Love T.K.O. - Teddy Pendergrass

I like lists. They are neat and orderly.

I just saw the lovely Bob Wiltfong on a Domino's commercial. What a nice guy Bob is.

I am going to roast a chicken. The timing is good as an Usher video just came on. It's for "You Don't Have To Call". I realize it's spelled "U". But I refuse to do that, I hate that shit. Only Prince is allowed to do that and even then it makes me kind of cringe. Ick.

Thanks But I'm Trying To Cut Down.

I am officially over having a period and declare that I don't want to any more from this day forward. This, then, I would like to be the last day I am awoken from a sound slumber by crippling cramps issuing forth from my hyperactive uterus in order to stumble to the bathroom covered in my own blood, looking like some fucking extra from a George Romero movie. I further renounce having to not only clean myself up, but then having to scrub off the tile from the crime scene that has just apparently taken place all due to my not choosing to be knocked up.

I decry that I no longer wish to have to discard items of clothing due to my having saturated them with unneeded placenta.

Lastly, this is the last time I have to issue an apology to Allocco for bleeding on she & Annie's bath mat.

Now THAT'S better.

"I Just Feel Depressed. My Head's Getting Bigger, Squarer, More Like A Cube."*

"What the fuck happened to you, man? Shit, your ass used to be beautiful!" -Ordell

Quinton Tarantino's Jackie Brown is one of my favorite movies. In it, [SPOILER- although if you're so fucking lame you haven't watched it I kind of think you deserve to have it ruined but...I will be lady-like in this one instance] there is a particularly heartbreaking scene between characters played by Robert DeNiro and Samuel L. Jackson, where they have a talk that they both know is going to end very badly. It does. There's a lot of blood, but it's not as much gory as it is just sad. The focus is on the end of a partnership. Louis (DeNiro) realizes too late he made a grave error in judgement. Ordell (Jackson) struggles with the fact that he has a code of ethics he has to live by in order to survive. And that code means that he has to do shitty things like shoot an old prison friend in the stomach when he's looking the other way after said partner royally fucks up a business transaction of sorts and kills one of his various mistresses in a Los Angeles mall parking lot in broad daylight.

There's no black or white emotional territory in this interaction. It's all gray, and the fact that Ordell is so disappointed in his partner is heart-wrenching. He's so tender in the way he murders Louis. It haunts me. Tarantino's screenplay & direction and Jackson's acting manage to blend seamlessly to present to the viewer that Ordell doesn't want to. He has to.

*Conan O' Brien, in the fantastic Michel Gondry video with Meg & Jack White.

Fuck Football, It's All About Puppy Bowl II!

Animal Planet's Annual PUPPY BOWL is in full swing and I could not be more excited. If you have not viewed this, you are missing out on life my friend. Click here for video clips. This is the only reason the Super Bowl is at all acceptable in this non-sports fan's book. Ben says he feels that some kittens should come out and perform in the half time show. I could not agree more.

Watching these little scamps cavort, chew on the plexiglass camera divider, bark and occasionally take a whiz (for which a costumed ref issues a foul) is too, too much. I now want to go lie down on the field and be covered in adoring, wiggling pups. But I would have to be careful NOT to lie in a pee spot.

My vote for MVP? Bessie, a hound mix who looks to be lots of Beagle. Click on that link to cast YOUR vote!

UPDATE!!! (8:07 PM)
Just finished watching-oh, help me sweet jesus- the Bissel KITTY HALF TIME SHOW!!! It was the best fucking thing I have ever watched. It derserves an Oscar. Ben called to tell me there was a Nigel looking kitten, and then we sat on the phone and watched it together, all the while commenting on toys, behaviors and the upbeat disco music being played. Seriously, if someone can burn me a DVD of this I will be forever in your servitude. People, it ends with a Kool & The Gang-esque song blaring and confetti being dumped on the confused but lively kittens.

UPDATE #2 (1:52 Am)

I am re-watching the Kitty Half Time Show. One of the cats is a brute, and I named him Little Smokey. His eyes are a bit too close together so I think he is slightly retarded and he is using his retard super strength to slap other cats in the face, monopolize all toys on the tricked out set, and dump water bowls. He's a real miscreant. I want to have him. I can't believe how funn yit is that Ben called, said he wished this would happen (cats half time) and I agreed and then, our wish came true! I also can't belive I woke up after being asleep for a few hours and am back in the couch watching this. Again. Now I have to go to the bodega during the commercial break, grab a can of Dr. Pepper and some form of chocolate, and then hightail it back here for the big finale. It is not to be missed. Aw shit, Little Smokey just bum-rushed a lanky all balck kitten- he's a rascal, he is.

For Popcorn.

"They brought them in in their hair!"

"Wait...they didn't have a blue trash bag when they came in!!!"

"Raise the lid Darla."

"You guys, this has been a totally multicultural night."

"Oh, ya'll are sleeping in the hallway? That's cool."

Here's to one of the best nights of my life when I was in the worst mood, ever. I love you Ms. Anne (And Kris and Steven).

High Highs, Low Lows.

I am in a mood.

Because I am a mood, I am cleaning in a manic way and have begun the process of tearing my bedroom apart. There are more piles of clothes than usual all over the place. I also yanked all my handbags out and rooted through all of them in an attempt to locate missing jewelry, makeup, and other important items. Also I was performing a change harvest because I am determined to empty my orange piggy bank at the Commerce in order to use the funds to buy another pair of boots. Yes, that's right, in order to add to the clutter. Yuck.

Here is a short list of what I've unearthed:

• Ten dollars. Yeeeeah! Dogeared for a despicably fattening lunch mind you.
  
• Orange & vanilla lip gloss bought at Oasis Day Spa at the Jet Blue Terminal in JFK in December 2004. Have been whining about this for quite some time and am delighted.
  
• An ancient pack of Lucky Strikes. J-J-J-jackpot! My last pack of cigarettes seem to have disappeared and I was greatly chagrined as I had 3 bucks in my wallet from Sunday on. And yes, that does feel grand, thanks for wondering.
  
• A pack of matches from Idlewild which is no longer open but used to have a great Britpop night that I liked to think I was cool enough to go to. Although I was clearly wrong, I still miss it.
  
• My Clie PDA. So THAT'S why I'm always late, it was missing. Who am I kidding. I'll always be fucking late.
  
• A plethora of tampons. It was a veritable cotton crop.
  
• The Sennheiser ear buds Gruber gave me to replace the shite ones Apple issues with iPods. He told me when I got mine that, as far as the standard issue Apple ear buds go, he would just throw them in the trash as that was what they were fit for. Mine worked for a day and then shorted out. Not that I would be dumb enough to keep them or even wear them in public, they sounded like listening to a tin can attached to a string. Anyway, these Sennheisers are nice because they're white and therefore more aesthetically pleasing than my Koss ones, which while bulky sound so amazing. So yippee.
  
• Various love notes I forced drunkards to write on cocktail napkins when they made the poor choice to hit on me at various taverns about the town. I greatly enjoy shaming & tormenting potential "suitors" especially when they have pick up lines like "Your hair is like, really red". Or when they forget my name and still want me to go home with them. Classy. So I force them to write me passionate love notes, then I keep them and ridicule the many improper spellings & grammar errors as I ride home on the F, cherishing my wily antics. These are really precious I assure you. Perhpas I shall make my own seperate blog of them someday. Or not.

All in all, it's kind of like dumpster diving with lots of pineapple lip gloss as the result. And that can only mean F U N.

The Onion is My New Bestest Friend. Again.

LE MENAGE A TROIS AVEC LE ONION

Three Hours Of Three Olives Vodka Drinks For $3

From 6-9 p.m., all month long, enjoy Three Olives Vodka drinks for only $3 at these locations:

Monday through Friday:

MACDOUGAL STREET ALE HOUSE, 122 MacDougal St. (b/t Bleecker & W. 3rd Sts.)

BARROW STREET ALE HOUSE, 15 Barrow St. (b/t 7th Ave. & W. 4th St.)

O'KEEFE'S BAR, 62 Court St., Brooklyn Hts. (b/t Livingston & Joralemon)

Wednesdays:

BROOKLYN ALE HOUSE, 103 Berry St. @ N. 8th St. (Williamsburg)

BARCELONA BAR, 923 8th Ave. (b/t W. 54th & 55th Sts.)

BAR ROOM, 986 2nd Ave. @ E. 52nd St.

Thursdays:

DOHERTY'S PUB, 218 E. 52nd St. (b/t 2nd & 3rd Aves.)

THE TOWN TAVERN, 134 W. 3rd St. (b/t MacDougal St. & 6th Ave.)

LA PRIMA DONNA, 163 W. 47th St. (b/t 6th & 7th Aves.)

Fridays:

BAR COASTAL, 1495 1st Ave. (b/t E. 78th & 79th Sts.)

DOWN THE HATCH, 175 W. 4th St. @ 6th Ave.

Bold indicates where you will find my broke ass, taking a cue from Allocco and paying with shiny change a la' Rudy's 2005.

Don't You Want The Afterparty, Koffee Brown?!?

The fantastic Lauren Weedman, old UCB friend and a god-damned delight. If you live in LA you should go and see her one lady shows, she's the real deal. She is being quite glamorous here methinks. This is from my second night with the robo-dope MORTIFIED! LA, Jan. 19, 2006.

Awesome pal Drew & I after my hometown appearance in MORTIFIED! NYC on Jan. 25, 2006. He has every right to kill me for using this picture.


Ms. Lady Anne and Matthew, post-MORTIFIED! Anne's creepy detailed yet vague Dog Diaries were a true treat to behold. She utilized visual aides and dazzled the crowd. Oh, word?

MORTIFIED! NYC & Boston producer, delightful house guest, bried-to-be & all-around comedy dynamo Giulia Rozzi yearns for knowledge, people!

WHAT. They did this ON PURPOSE. It made me really angry and, as I had been drinking heavily at Doc Holiday's it seemed appropriate to take a snotty photo of them. Please note: they have matching Coach bags, too.

Sometimes after I say something particularly hateful, my Mom asks me why I'm so angry. I never really had an answer. Now I do: berets at the Astor Place McDonald's. WHAT.