smile this, bitch.

my good friend jess sent me a great Glamour article which i feel the need to elaborate on.

it talks about the phenomenon known as "bitchface" whereby, if you're a chick, your normal face just isn't good enough -- you have to be smiling 24-7 or else someone, usually a dude, takes it upon themselves to comment on how pissed off you are.

i'm not pissed, guy, it's just my face.

jess, being a cute redhead, often gets the "Smile, Red." comment by random passers by. and one time, as i was strolling through my campus, passing by the ROTC center, some marine or soldier or whatever literally grabbed me and, of course he had a condescending smirk upon his face, said "it's not that bad is it?" and you know, i really wasn't in a bad mood at all. just an average, expressionless mood. but that comment pissed me off so much i stared him in the face and said "actually, i just found out my brand new puppy got eaten by a coyote."

ok, i'm not that quick on my feet. but i can tell you, i was pretty pissed off. i definitely didn't smile at him and remember bitchily snapping free from his grasp.

what do you want from me, world?! should i be constantly skipping down the street leaving a trail of butterflies, hearts, and glitter behind me? fuck that.

i like to live my life pretty apathetically. you can't be happy all the time, cause then when something awesome happens, what do you do? no one would even know. you'd have to be like "guys! something awesome just happened!!" and your friends would be all "really? i couldnt even tell...."

you think you know, but you have no idea

this is the first and last time i will say this - but i don't know shit.

they're back. it's announced. posh is in! i mean you knew the other 4 ho's were in. wtf else are they doing? but that little minx, posh, threw me for a loop. i forgot about the almighty buck. a cool $20mill, of course she's in! that's like manicures for a month!

anyway - we're gonna have to work on some new names for these sluts. i mean, sporty is not so...cough...sporty anymore. lesbian spice? does that work? box spice? yeah, that's fierce. and classy.

anyway, let's discuss this picture for a minute. posh is amazing and awful and the only one of them who can rock those pleather pants and ohlawdy that shirt. she's my fucking hero.

i can feel how pissed off sporty is that she has to stand next to her. actually, i'll stop with the sporty bashing. she looks pretty normal. but she's probably shopping at k-mart at this point (i mean...the belt?) so i'm kind of happy for her. get her ass to a personal trainer and back in some james' jeans and she'll no longer be hiding behind those 6" thick bangs.

ginger, ginger, ginger....a) botox. b) most of us stopped playing dress up in our grandmother's Great Depression clothes when we were 7... c) those shoes don't match anything. especially not that dress. i, for one, am actually hoping she goes back to that godawful red-blond streaked look she rocked in '98.

baby is so coked out, she has no idea where she is let alone that someone dressed her up as the wicked witch of the west. $50 that bow tie thing leads to a cape...

scary, i can't really shit on. she's hot. she just had a kid and is in constant battle with that dick of a baby daddy, eddie murphy. i guess maybe i feel for her. i'll probably be there in 5-7 years. actually, i can shit on her. those shoes have to go, babe...

the moral of the story: 25 city tour by christmas. who's in??

July, July!

Urban Dictionary's AMAZING definition of Hipster

Listens to bands that you have never heard of. Has hairstyle that can only be described as "complicated." (Most likely achieved by a minimum of one week not washing it.) Probably tattooed. Maybe gay. Definitely cooler than you. Reads Black Book, Nylon, and the Styles section of the New York Times. Drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon. Often. Complains. Always denies being a hipster. Hates the word. Probably living off parents money - and spends a great deal of it to look like they don't have any. Has friends and/or self cut hair. Dyes it frequently (black, white-blonde, etc. and until scalp bleeds). Has a closet full of clothing but usually wears same three things OVER AND OVER (most likely very tight black pants, scarf, and ironic tee-shirt). Chips off nail polish artfully after $50 manicure. Sleeps with everyone and talks about it at great volume in crowded coffee shops. Addicted to coffee, cigarettes (Parliaments, Kamel Reds, Lucky Strikes, etc.), and possibly cocaine. Claims to be in a band. Rehearsals consist of choosing outfits for next show and drinking PBR. Always on the list. Majors or majored in art, writing, or queer studies. Name-drops. May go by "Penny Lane," "Eleanor Rigby," etc. when drunk. On PBR. Which is usually.

spicy

i read somewhere that the cure for writers' block is reading. well, that person is genius because i just read dlisted and found the most amazing idea i've ever heard. well, that's strong, the most amazing idea i've ever heard is one from my brother, who invented that salsa cans/glasses/whatever should be weighted so that, as you eat the salsa, a plate lifts up so that the salsa stays on the top and you dont have to dip your hand into the salsa rimmed glass so as to get tomato and oniony residue all over your distal phalanges (fingers. i'm smart).

anyway, some marketing GENIUS decided that Posh should become an LA Galaxy Cheerleader!! that's the soccer team or something that becks' plays for. i mean, could Posh have been created for a better role other than the ditzy blond cheerleader? well, one problem....she doesn't smile. ever.

SO that brings me to my next awesome idea - a spice girls reunion! i'm sad to say that on more than one halloween, i had the great pleasure of dressing up as both posh and sporty spice. apparently i hang out with a lot of blondes, because on another occasion i was forced to be charlotte york from sex and the city because i'm the only brunette. standing around chicks who dressed up as naked at some frat's halloween party and i'm in a fetching cardigan... needless to say i drank way too many cosomo's and spent the night puking in my communal dorm bathroom. that's probably what sporty spice is doing right now - and Baby too as soon as she gets her legs down from up, over her head.

But Posh won't go for it. guaranteed. with this new clothing line and reality tv show, there's no chance she'll go back to her roots. she'd be crazy to do it. i bet she actually thinks she's the first wannabe celeb (yeah that was supposed to be punny b/c of the spice girls song "wannabe"...you there?) to have the brilliant idea of creating a clothing line.

regardless, whoring yourself out on stage or in your rich husband's bed? i'd take becks. at least you get hotter arm candy than scary spice and her afro (and, maybe, eddie murphy's kid?).

awfully ornery

Speaking of fierce! holy shit, annie!!




i'm in the bitchiest mood today and i have some time to kill. so you're getting nothing but fierce.

you know, what's so annoying about shitty days at work...when they're on fridays, am i right or am i right?? (yeah i just got a total urge to write this post as if it's a bad stand up comedy routine. it's cracking me up so i'm keeping it going.)

so i says to myself today, i says "self, how can i make this day better?"

anyway, i decided either by kicking babies or getting crushed. so i'm getting crushed. now, i have a question to propose to guys. what if you saw a girl sitting at a bar alone on a friday evening, having a few beers....maybe a shot or 7? would you be completely attracted to her? the woman of your dreams?

the correct answer is yes.

anyway, what else sucks about today? ummm it's the most beautiful day of the year and i'm at a desk drinking seltzer water with the shakes b/c the tequila from 3 days ago finally cleared my system. i'm salivating at the thought of a beer, i mean...thats not that healthy.

all right, i've really got nothing, so i'll leave you with something awesome:

poor man's posh

a little stumped as to what i should post today, i asked my pal kerry for an idea of something light to chat about today. her response:

Kerry: umm....how about the the fact that insurance companies should begin to cover genetic testing for breast cancer since the tests are available and effective and allow for preventative measures to be taken / aggressive screening to help lower the overall cost of treatment

awesome.

well, i wont be discussing breast cancer today. er...sorry? now i feel kinda guilty about it. like is should be blogging about something important like cancer. shit.

whatever, let's talk about katie holmes. i mean, christ woman. she aged literally 25 years in the last 18 months. why is tom TRYING to make her unattractive? he doesn't want her, i think we can all safely say that's a fact at this point. so why does he care if she's hot? doesn't her being hit in the face bring his stock down?

i really would kill to know the terms of their agreement. i wonder how i can get some face time with one of those "reliable sources" always featured in US Weekly and figure it out. between the people i know and the people you know, one of us has connections to the TomKat lair. actually, i'm sure there's all kindsa freakay shite going on in there. i can hear the lambs screaming...

lock it up

when the number of hours of sleep over a 3 day period are less than the number of shots you've taken. reassess. and by reassess i mean, know that your life is awesome. my life was officially declared awesome this weekend.

since i was out and about in various venues of new york city ranging from black tie events at gotham hall to dive bars to trendy clubs, i took in a lot of, shall we say, mating rituals. i'm pretty much an expert at this point. so, being that i'm basically certified to judge people i'd like to comment:

Girls - get dressed, sober up, and lock it up!

christ, i can't count how many times i saw a 20 something chick pouring vodka tonic "with a splash of cran" all over the front of her off-the-rack bloomies mini-dress while simultaneously pouring herself into the arms of some hairy chested tattooed metrosexual's arms (ed. note: dudes, the metro-era is over - button up the shirt. on second thought, burn the shirt.)

i mean, i'd rather gnaw my own pinky finger off than wake up in the arms of one of these jokers. what's worse is, underneath layers of blue eye shadow, these ladies are pretty cute. ok, so i'm being a bit stereotypical. some of them were wearing lavender shadow.

in nyc, you always run into one or two of these chicks in a night. usually you find out later, shockingly, they're from jerz. and you know they're looking for a place to crash that night, whatever it takes. and i respect that. i live in narnia so the thought has crossed my mind before - but usually i realize the cost of a $50 cab ride is significantly less than the medical bills i'll incur while being treated for the clap...

and i mean, guys, you're really just as bad. as much as you say you hate that girl who's wasted and falling all over you - do you not find yourself doing the stride of pride at 7am the next morning? (and, let's be honest, you really didn't get any last night b/c she either passed out or vomited all night), but maybe it's just cool for you b/c getting laid (or saying you got laid?) is more important than who it's with...

i don't know how this turned into a sex-nazi post. i really just meant to bitch about girls cause i pretty much hate 95% of my gender.

i guess i'm no expert after all.

go out, get crushed, and have all the sex you want. even if you end up with a kid you don't want, odds are brad and angie will buy it off you.

just walk away....

i mean, it hurts. i feel like a part of me died last night. it's just...when you invest so much time, energy, love and then everything comes crashing down and you just feel lost, almost...empty wondering What could I have done to change things?

kelly clarkson's tour is canceled.

so maybe she sang one too many break up songs and turned all super-lez on us. so what? i stuck it out. i defended her. i sang at the top of my lungs. i eagerly anticipated the new album.

so what if there were more chicks at her miss independent (time out - kel, could you have thought of a less lez name? the Since U Been Gone tour woulda been lame, but might have had a little less box appeal...) summer tour 2006 than at your typical Lilith Fair? did i defend her when everyone called her fat and talentless? absolutely. but no more, kel. you let me down. your album sucks and, well, you're not skinny.

let this be a lesson to all your wanna-be performers out there: if you gain 10 lbs no one will like you, no one will buy your albums, and your tour will be canceled because no one wants to see a fat lesbian dance. not even fat lesbians.

infomercial addicts anonymous

i'm pretty fiesty today. just read an article in the times that pissed me right off. and, for the first time in my life, i wrote an email.

will that email be read? nope. at least most likely not. but i still feel better about it. i had an outlet for my anger. i kinda hope the dude doesn't get back to me since i'm just a lowly copywriter and he probably makes my yearly salary....per word. if i worked at the times i'd be lucky to get this guy coffee. he's still an asshole.

anyway, the article, if you're too lazy to click the link and read it, is entitled "More advice graduates don't want to hear" and it gives great tips for all of us post-grads on how to save a few bucks.

hey there, you 22 year old, cherry cheeked ivy leaguer! need some extra cash? yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you blew all your cash on that Hercules Hook set you saw on an infomercial last night!

that's seriously this dude's advice. oh, and lay off the $2,000/lb chocolate. thank GOD someone finally wrote that. if i see one more hipster strollin' around billyberg chomping on a designer chocolate bar, i'm calling suze orman.

i go back to my motto on life - everything is relative. you never have enough money. whether its $30k/yr or $300k/yr everyone wants (and thinks they need) more. but at 10am, we're not getting into social commentary. actually, it has nothing to do with 10am...i'm a complete materialist and drop hundies at the bar weekly, so i'm not going to be a total hypocrite.

regardless, i don't watch infomercials. and that's the point.

by the power of grayskull!

it's a slow wednesday and i'm still feeling a little under the weather, so let's talk gossip.

i heard a rumor that a He-man movie is in preproduction. you know he-man, the most powerful man in the universe...well, supposedly he's being played by brad pitt.

discuss.

i mean, he-man's pretty gay. wow. i can actually hear my brother and cousin moaning over this because of the countless hours those two screamed battle cries before diving off the rock wall in our front yard. but, i mean, he was/is gay. easy now. there's nothing wrong with that blah blah blah - i'm only mentioning his sexuality b/c the guy had a blond bob and never wore a shirt (so...maybe not gay, but an anna wintour wanna-be?). also to segue into the fact that brad pitt is the perfect casting choice for said movie. as much as he may have once been a stud (though i, personally was never really on that bandwagon), he's now angelina's bitch. plain and simple.

ok, i don't feel like talking about brad pitt anymore, so back to the master of the universe. most every child of the 80s remembers him. so then how could it be possible that the show was canceled after only 2 seasons?? even more shocking is that i actually remember a decent amount about the bodice-ripping Aryan and his snobby alter-ego Prince Adam, and the show premiered the year before i was born!

i've mentioned how much i hate remakes and sequels, but again, i'll prove myself a hypocrite (get used to this) by saying a remake of He-man would be hellabetter than another spongebob movie....

jungle cats

UPDATE: Bill Simmon's take on the Yanks at the moment: I'm more amazed that my Uncle Ricky e-mailed me this morning with the subject heading "9 1/2." Congrats, you swept the Pirates at home. We're all impressed.

Told you he could say it better.

WARNING: This Post Sucks

i started writing about cougars - the leathery skinned, Revlon-wearing, leopard-print-loving old ladies, not the puma-like creatures ready to pounce. then again, they fit that definition as well.

anyway, that's where the title of this blog comes from, but i'm 23 and could care less about anyone over 30. unless you're my mom or someone awesome, 30+somethings don't really exist to me. bitchy? sure, but hey, 2 points for honesty as our Guster boys taught us. regardless, it's a hot post title, and i figured it would get you reading. so, thanks for being here.

onward! i decided to write about the red sox (ps i just wrote red sex. take from that what you will...). when you don't really have much to talk about, the majority of the world discusses the weather. bostonians are the greatest people on earth, however, so we talk about the sox. and currently, we're dominating, as per usual, so it seems fitting to discuss said domination.

living in NYC during baseball season sucks. right now, the yankees are on a winning "streak" by this i mean they've won a handful of games and they're still about 10 games back, but for some reason i still have to listen to the jokers on the 7 train or in any bar i walk into squawking about A-Rod's 2 homers in last night's game or something equally as hypocritical. i mean, manny sucks a lot of the time, or schilling has a slump and we do bitch and moan, but could yankees fans define fair-weather anymore than they do??

Just the thought of the day. nothing original, so further/better comments on the sox i'll leave to you, friends (yes, i heard the comments and removed the thing that forces you to sign up for google blog to comment. you can post away w/o signing up now) or to the sports guy, who's waaaaaaaaay better at this than i am (evidence).

PS How great is The Post?

oh hai...

my good friend samantha told me i was being ranty today. and then my pal meg suggested fridays should be a bit lighter.

granted, i don't really care what either of these chicks have to say....false, they're smart ladies and i concur. also, i'm bored off my face today, so a fun post you shall have, readers!

by now, just about every one who has a computer knows about LOLcats. they've been linked to, blogged about, digged, redd, and threaded for months. but gollygee i simply can't put my finger on why i love them so much. i hate cats. they chase balls of yarn and shit in boxes and are all around bitches. inside cats are inside b/c they threw a fit when their owner tried to take them outside and outside cats are strays. period. also, they're assholes.

now, i'm a bit of nerd. i know, i know -- i'm also awesome, but i sometimes overanalyze things. and when i become obsessed with something, i become obsessed with it.

so i did some research this caturday (see what i mean...) and dug up the origin of the LOLcats. turns out they're pretty damn old! which generally bugs me. i don't like sequels or remakes or movies based on books or series' in general. i appreciate inventiveness. but in this case, these cats would have died permanently had some bloke out there not revived them.

so good on ya, anonymous dude/gal (probably gal)! and thank you for helping me and my colleagues get through many a long work day....

stop caring

i sometimes fake being passionate about things. by sometimes, i mean often, and by often i mean i don't genuinely care about a damn thing unless it provides fodder for me to get in a fight with someone (preferably a Carmine Gotti-like Yankees fan at a dive bar in Queens, where i'm certain the only reason i'm still alive as i walk away from the "debate" is because i'm a girl. unfair? chicks still only make 75 cents to the man's dollar, so that extra quarter is paid back in being loud and obnoxious after a few too many and walking away without a black eye).

one of the things i might actually be passionate about is the media. relaaaaaaaaax! i'm not gonna sit here and pretend i know enough about the inner-workings of the media to intelligently comment. actually, you know what? i didn't pay $100 grand for a degree in what amounts to being a blend of pop-culture and creative writing for nothing, so i will comment. and you'll shut up and read!

i hate infotainment. i hate that Paris Hilton getting out of jail/being in jail is the number one story on CNN right now. and i LOVE celebs and their crazy lives, but there's a time and a place for it. and the time is not the 11pm ABC nightly news and the place is not MSNBC. it's 3pm on a Wednesday when you're clawing your eyes out at work, sweating out the 11 'tinis from the night before and the place is dlisted or thesuperficial. I mean, does it affect my life at all if Paris is in jail? Other than that my girl Lindsay Lohan will get more blog time, no, it doesn't. So get the ho off my CNN homepage.

i read a really interesting article yesterday about push and pull news, which is where this animosity is coming from - that or the everything bagel i unfortunately (or fortunately) scarfed this morning....the poppy seeds - every damn time!

anyway, i don't know why i decided to make things so heavy this morning. i'm actually in a really good mood today. friday, the weekend, 77 degrees in sunny Manhattan, and John Mayer and J.Simp have officially broken up.

and i decided long ago (never to walk in annnnnnnyone's shadow!!) that every post should end on a high note. so let me leave you with this throwback video. lest we forget....


UPDATE!! CNN BREAKING NEWS: Paris Hilton Ordered Back to Jail. Leaves Court Room Screaming!!

and i'm praying there's video...

fist pumps and telethons

let's get one thing cleared up right off the bat. so we're all on the same page. wtf is up with the name of this blog? well, let me tell you, friend. i have a slight obsession with pop culture -- music, tv, film, you name it and i spend way too much time thinking about it. i can't really name the time or place when this obsession came to brew, but i can tell you the first she-crush i had: Donna Jo Margaret Tanner.




that's right. she was slightly chubby, loved the knee-raising fist pump, occasionally thew in the mid-western accent even though she was from the Bay area (though, to be fair, only when accompanied by a "Oh Mylanta!"), and goddam could that girl sing! she had gusto. and most everyone has forgotten about her. and that, friends, is a shame.

we laughed with her, we cried with her (shut your face off if you are actually sitting here pretending you could hold it together when the violins cued and the mom reappeared in the form of a fun family video talking about much she loved her girls), and we begged her to just eat that bologna sandwich and stop feeding it to Comet before she passes out on the treadmill at the family gym before she even got to Kathy Santoni's birthday party! PLEASE stop eating ice pops and listen to Aunt Becky when she says to eat some lean chicken without the skin!!

i digress.

i really have no business creating a blog. that's a fact. but maybe it'll get me more friends. or someday someone will slap me on the shoulder and slide a pint of Sam Summer in front of me at the bar and say "You can't name all 50 states and their capitals." and i will. and they'll say "A person like you ought to have a blog." and i'll tell them i do. and all this will be worth it. someday...