December 2008
39 posts
That “born with a silver spoon in his mouth” idiom raises far more questions about the miracle of birth than I want to know the answers to.
I know three couples who got engaged in the past week! That’s three men who liked it, so they put a ring on it.
Just threw out a perfectly fine pair of tights due to an undeniable intuition that a rip was imminent. Bush Doctrine, stocking-style.
“We don’t think that’s fair… They’re trying to have their...”
– Time Warner Cable Vice President Alex Dudley on why his cable company doesn’t want to pay Viacom more money to host their channels, which also generate ad revenue from Internet sources.
I mostly just liked the concept of eating cake online.
So it turns out yogurt + hot chocolate packet does not even come close to equaling pudding.
You know, America, my gums had some recession way before you did. So THERE.
“Women drivers, no survivors!” joked a party guest as I assumed designated driver role and took the wheel in Manhattan for the first time.
The good news: My skinny jeans fit again! The bad news: So does my skinny *bra.* Sigh. You lose some, you lose some.
Just tore my place apart looking for my brown hoodie until a curious thought crossed my mind: Do I even *own* a brown hoodie?
I am so over profundity.
I devour New York Magazine like it’s a major food group. A delicious, literary food group.
Doorbell rings. My dad says “Maybe it’s Santa.” He doesn’t know I’m awake, so this comment was purely for our dog’s entertainment.
Recession solution: When you utter the phrase “these tough economic times,” you have to pay the government. And… take a shot or something.
Well, that was a creative conversation starter, stranger in the gym locker room who commented on the size *and* shape of a bruise I have.
Finding long lost treasures in my childhood bedroom. First-ever received love letter states “You are an excellent handwarmer!”
Overheard: “There’s always that fresh-out-of-the-closet gay guy who moves to New York and latches on to you at parties.”
Gave my boyfriend early xmas presents, including DVDs, book I knew he’d like. “Content!” he beamed, genuinely excited. “I LOVE content!”
adjectives are a press release’s best friend.
heavily-accented woman at Subway wanted cheese on her sandwich. “Which one?” Subway guy asked. “The triangle one,” she said. “Ah- American.”
cottage cheese: always much, much less creepy in theory than in practice.
Anti-kidnapping expert kidnapped →
Mexico’s latest entry in the WTF category.
Purchasing a puppy first: the newest way to upstage your fellow politicians.
Iraqi Shoe Thrower could have just forced Bush to sit through a live performance by Kanye if he *really* wanted to punish him.
Twitter goes to the movies →
Walmart + Coke = surprisingly hip movie theater ad.
WatchBush on the Iraq shoe-throwing incident: “I’ve seen a lot of weird things during my presidency, and this may rank up there as one of the weirdest.” (1:56)
A guy dressed as Santa just said “what’s up, baby?” to me. I challenge you to ruin the magic of Christmas in fewer words than that.
Tune in tomorrow night for Round 1 of My Strapless Bra vs. Gravity, Holiday Party Season Edition.
Booking tickets to Aruba with my boyfriend! He’s excited to be in the sun; I’m excited to hunt for Natalee Holloway.
google’s frighteningly accurate search suggestions can’t be helping all the paranoid schizophrenics out there.
sometimes IT advice sounds like the lead-up to an insult. “no, YOU clear your cache, asshole!”
Carefully peeling a cucumber and then accidentally dropping it in the trash is the culinary equivalent of a case of the Mondays.
Hey, all-natural food companies: including “pure love” in your list of ingredients doesn’t make me want to buy your product more.
Second-world problem: the fact that second-world problems are never discussed.
happy for my lactose-intolerant friends that they can see the movie “Milk” with no gastrointestinal consequences.
which one of santa’s elves will be tasked with explaining the difference between naughty, nice, and recession-year-nice?
Nothing feels as powerless as those terrifying seconds when you know someone is about to put the pen they borrowed from you in their mouth.
tore cartilage in my knee. doctor’s forbidden me from going dancing, among other activities. clubbers: your long nightmare is finally over.
Had my palm read for the hell of it. Psychic and I both gasped when I took off my glove, revealing a smudge of dirt on my palm. I’m cursed!