origin of original

every once and awhile, i have an original thought. then i'm quickly slammed down like naomi campbell's latest assistant after a cell phone is rifled off her dome when i read better, funnier, more intelligent, over all faster blog posts. that's why these peeps get paid more than the intern's salary i've somehow made work by living off bologna sammiches and vodka.

So here's my weekly roundup of the most hilarious, SO-MF-TRUE!! articles/posts:

1. valley wag's "culture of complaint" post on idiotic,embarrassing facebook groups. honestly, i'm mostly embarrassed that "1mm strong against palin" has less than 40k members...
   
2. ny mag's "nairtini gossip girl recap" article, complete with brilliant point system. desperately figuring out who i need to sleep with to become leighton meester's writer's assitant.
   
3. gawker's coverage on letterman's continued bashing of mccain. amazing use of "sullied".
4. the return of mystery!! homeboy was doing magic tricks! that's gotta go on the mediocre sex list. or not, since there's a -2% blacked out chance in hell that any chick i know would drop her pants for a dude in goggles w/ a card deck as his mojo.
5. drew and ed. barrymourning. i can't BELIEVE i didn't get there first AND at a kings of leon show. kick. in. face.
   

de-snagged

bazaar totes read my post!  http://jezebel.com/5053533/maghag 

sex on fire

jumping in where kings of leon left off, i got to thinking (carrie bradshaw lameness intended) about what makes great sex great?

in my years of research, i've come to decide that it's not just one thing, or even a few things, but more of a hurricane-like culmination (oh yeah, this post is going to be riddled with lazy sexual innuendos, so buckle down) of things. it's not just the wind, not just the rain, but this love storm has to come together over the warm waters of the gulf to really pick up steam and do serious damage (usually it's damage to your productivity the following morning).

it's not just that you're in the mood for it because, honestly, are you ever not in the mood for it? it's not just that you finished your sixth ketel grapefruit because, honestly, is there ever a night when you haven't just finished your sixth ketel grapefruit? (if you haven't picked up on this already, you=me in the above and below statements...)

it's also that it's noon and you're feeling damn hot this particular tuesday. it's also "oops...the shower was closer than the bed and thank god it was". it's also that you're "in the mood to be dominated" (of course that came from ET. -Ed.) and were lucky enough to roofie home a dude who's gonna teach you a thing or two. and can we take a second to note: boys, this is relatively rare. most of you are more in the tropical depression category. which is fine. if there's a drought, we'll take a little rain wherever we can.

while we're on the topic, let's discuss the top three things that make mediocre sex mediocre. and wow, this one is a helluvalot easier.

1. Cuddling. way to ruin it, dude. if it was that good, we're probs pretty effing hot (in more ways than one! badumbumCHING) and the last thing i want is your sweaty--ugh. i cant even finish this sentence.
   
2. Prolonged eye contact. this isn't a staring contest. keep your head in the game. even if we're dealing w/ some super sappy emotional sexual situation, i'm not thinking about how much i care about you at that moment. seriously. focus.
3. Post-mortem. if you need to ask and/or discuss (unless out of pure 'holy. good. god.'), you better save your energy for a round two, you've got a lot of making up to do.

this sounds like i'm putting all of the blame/pressure on you cowboys out there. and, well, i am. consider this dancing. take the lead. and watch our toes.

Seven Things I Hate About...

i'm completely hungover today (pause for collective "par for the course..." from all 3 of you reading this), so i'm on the ornery side. i also just read this blog post by some random dude titled Seven Things that Need to Go Away Forever -- original.

I disagree with most of these things. anyone who hates texting and/or IM is no friend of mine. more importantly, he hates "struggles with drugs" stories. clearly he's never seen a single episode of Intervention -- there's no way you can see a hectic gay dude completely methed out and NOT enjoy yourself. so, since this kid has no idea what he's talking about, i'll take it from here with my top seven pet peeves:

7. kirsten dunst
why, why, why is she famous? let's go through a list of her life highlights: a pseudo friendship with sofia coppola, wimbledon, somehow making each spiderman movie worse, her monologue to missy in bring it on where she explains that "the shit" means "the best", and her adament refusal to take care of that fucking snaggle tooth. get her outta here.

6. top shop taking FOREVER to open in the states
get your acts together. commit. pick a date and commit. i mean -- march??! you're not even trying at this point.

5. LARPing
i wasn't going to do this because it makes me a loser for even knowing what it is (live action role playing, btw...yeah, sorry). but that makes me hate it even more. i dont get it. i really dont get any games that dont involve massive amounts of alcohol and/or drugs. what's the point unless you're gonna end up in a closet w/ some guy you've convinced yourself looks like a 1998 dean cain doppelganger (homeboy IS superman. that hair?? you don't have that hair)? maybe that is the point...just in medieval garb? ick. scene.

4. people who can't make a decision on an order when finally at the front of a hectically long line at a chain/fast food joint
you're at mcdonalds? get a burger. you're at starbucks? grande latte. done and done. this is particularly unacceptable at a coffee shop. if i'm waiting in line for 10 mins, i'm probably at the point of desperation/homicide. and if you're sitting there asking the barrista what "mocha" means, you should be shot and/or deported.

(I'm not even sure these are in order, but as i write them i'm getting exponentially more agro, so i guess it works. -Ed.)

3. reality TV fame
this is blatant jack of klosterman's essay, but it's worth repeating. i love reality tv, but being on the 15th season of real world/road rules challenge does not make you famous. does. not. i watch an unhealthy amount of mtv, and i really need for reality tv stars to stop being the hosts of shit. you're on the real world b/c you're black and/or gay and/or hate black gays. i don't need your thoughts on vampire weekend or for you to idiotically interview p!nk on the latest bow wow video. it's actually, physically painful for me to watch you embarrass yourself like that. take the $10k you won on gauntlet, buy yourself a 2001 jetta, and disappear into the midwest somewhere. and for the love of christ take spencer pratt with you.

2. calories
this is mainly because i don't get them. they're a unit of heat? fuck you.

1. backpacks
mainly the mini ones, ESPECIALLY if they're prada/gucci, some kind of super expensive brand that shows that you have no class and/or taste. but really, as my work-wife, mona, brilliantly begs, "do you REALLY need a mini backpack??" are they for mini books? toddlers? a lotta useless, i say.

the thai that binds

so i picked up the times this morning. (and by picked up, i mean clicked on a bookmark -- so young, so tech savvy) and noticed a particularly interesting article about samak sundaravej, prime minister of thailand. apparently he accepted a couple baht for whipping up a few spring rolls on a cooking show and is now getting the boot outta the brown house (racialist for humor...?). new meaning to well...done. 

i hate to state the obvious here, but how the fuck is this guy so easily dethroned when our retarded cowboy (thank you, russell brand) is still in office after throwing over THREE TRILLION DOLLARS toward a war that 65% of americans feel was a mistake to begin with. 

i have a really hard time mentally measuring distances like 60 yards, but i'm pretty good with money since i envision everything in cocktails and chanel, so i can tell you -- thats a significant amount of money. but at least our economy rocks so we don't need it...

i digress.

i mean, how much could they really have buttered this guy's skillet? the equivalent of $10,  maybe? i'm not being entirely ignorant here -- i can't imagine rachel ray throwing millions at sarahcuda palin for the opportunity to hear her secrets on keeping your caribu tender or the most efficient way to fillet a trout. 

to be fair, i know shit about this story -- i've probably read about sundaravej 3-5 other times in my life, so i'm not exactly an expert. regardless, i would welcome him with open arms to either  fry me up a grilled cheese or run this country. 

PS i promise i'll go back to nonsense about gossip girl or gavin rossdale tomorrow.