if every word i said could make you laugh...

christmas comes early!! my pal cass handed me a glorious present this morning: an announcement that i've been waiting for since 1995, perfectly wrapped up by john stamos and handed to me on a "how rude?!" platter. that's right, eager readers, full house is coming back! (for those of you who don't know...this blog is named after the show, so this is a VERY big deal for me. i bleed tanner blood.)

before i dive into how amazing this is going to be, let's all take a moment of silence for jodie sweetin's life.











ok, now that we've paid our respects -- i hope they work the meth addiction into the show. oh! this is a fun game. what else can we revive?

1. Donna Jo being fat and passing out at the gym because she's been feeding comet all her ham sandwiches trying to be anorexic for a day just so she can look hot at connie dimarco's pool party. and instead of eating ice pops (amazing), aunt becky tells her to eat "lean chicken without the skin" and other "i'm totally anorexic too and this is what my doctor told me i should eat, but i'll really teach you the best way to purge without anyone knowing as soon as these clowns leave the dinner table."
   
2. any episode with jurnee smollett.
3. colonel gladstone. we all know dave coulier will be onboard, and it will be even more classic to watch him have a fake successful comedy career the second time around when he's really not famous. having his dad show up at a vegas gig to tell him to cut. it. out. will be that much better.
4. the rippers. including all the 80's bitches with platinum blond hair, aqua net bangs, and leather mini-skirts who provided no value other than to "play" the tamborene and dance slightly better than zack morris (or a.c. slater for that matter...).
   
5. any episode with gail edwards.
6. TOMMY PAGE!! the stephanie/dj rivalry over whom he's in love with, since, you know, a celebrity of his stature would clearly make out with a 13 year old in her house with her dad two feet away. wait a minute, he's somehow less famous than the rest of the cast, so this shouldn't be a problem.
7. awkward references to dead pam. particularly in the form of 1981 home videos.
   

things i wouldn't mind cutting entirely:

1. the twins. their hijinks won't be as cute (sorry, you're right, they never were) now that they're 45. wait, are they the chubby twins on that disney channel show right now?? regardless, i hope they still have mushroom cuts wherever they are...
2. danny. UNLESS every time he enters a shot they cue the violins. in which case, i want him in every episode. otherwise, i'll take vicky solo. perhaps a widow? plus bob's got a mean comedy tour going -- i doubt he'd give up boston's comedy connection for this gig.
3. the beach boys. UNLESS they play sloop john b and are still breathing.
   
4. kimmy's feet.

"Only a masochist could ever love such a narcissist," and other things that will be recited at my wedding

wow. where to begin?? apologies on being a day late posting. apologies to stephanie savage and the rest of the ggirl writers for thinking you'd completely lost your minds when you simply, selflessly took an early vacation and allowed dorota to write the last episode. but thank god you're back.

a few things to note about this rundown:
1. i have yet to read daily intel or gawker or any other better, smarter blog's take on this 'sode. they're writing their posts for you. i'm writing this for me. because this week was so good, i almost cried. but then stopped because each time it was when blair was on screen and also crying and i realized she's the prettiest crier ever so i shouldn't even try.
2. i'm not talking about the baby situation. i'm just not. adoption? abortion? i can't think that far ahead. it's too taxing. i don't know if it's an existing kid (can you imagine if it were serena?? ick....but i'm a little into it cause i totally hate the dan/serena thing anyway. and i'm sick. and a masochist. and a narcissist.) or a new kid who suddenly strolls back from france to be chuck 2.0. i just can't. it's late.
3. i'm actually not going to discuss lilly at all. or serena really. wait i will discuss serena because i have to mention aaron's facial....situation...but not lilly. can't we just make this the blair-chuck show??

so. ok. wow. this episode is what a pop culture addict's dreams are made of. did anyone else think that serena was wearing a slip and then suddenly it was an actual "dress"?? she WOULD wear lingerie to her step-father's funeral. loved the hair though. at least that tats weren't out...

god i hope rufus stays on this show forever and ever. everything about him makes me laugh. the tight turtleneck sweater, the way he just sits alone playing guitar in his loft (which has become the most transient place since port charles general hospital ... no GH fans out there? robin w/ the hiv? sonny and the mafia? luke, laura and lucky??), how we gave him the most cliche closing line ever. go off to france, find you 25 year old kid, write a song about it and hire tom hanks as your manager and a kid who refuses to take his sunglasses off as your drummer and we'll see you next season.

aaron, on the other hand, christ. someone throw this kid a bottle of ky and a stack of anime porn. he's officially the creepiest dude on network tv. or hand him a mach 3 and my number. HOW does serena get an all expenses paid trip to south america away from her insane family with just her boyfriend at only 17 years old when she HASN'T EVEN PUT OUT YET!! the longest i think i've waited to sleep with a dude to test this theory was 12 (longmotherfucking) days. and you know what i got? a tom petty cd. i was also 17.

all right. it's time.

blair. hearts. breaking.
chuck. too. sexy.

who pulls aggro drunk off that well?? i'm so glad he didn't puke or go over the top with it. just was. chuck is pissed. and he's drunk. and he's still just as sexy. i can't wait for him to do something completely outrageous with all of bart's money. like buying loads of diamonds for blair or my dream nantucket beach house or dorota.

for real, these two could continue this back and forth of "i love you" / "that's too bad" for 10 more seasons. i'd still watch this cock tease tango over and over again. i wasn't even turned off that blair was the big spoon in bed, post-chuck's not-cry. and usually that's grosser than midget porn to me. and i love that blair just peaced on her mom's wedding to spoon. and be gorgeous. and sigh perfect. (Ed. note: what are the odds i don't come into work tomorrow sporting a dvf dress and matching headband?)

ummmmm in searching for an image to close this post, i came across this: http://blairandchuck.com/ and so i now need to go spend THE REST OF MY LIFE on this site. excuse me...

dirt 'stache artistry

serena, you just got served. finally.

i'm prepared to take some heat for this -- i fast forwarded through the majority of serena scenes this week. once they started quick cutting through that photo-shoot montage, i blacked out and drifted off to memories of the fourth season opener of the o.c. when ryan gets shot and fox thought a slow, blue-hued, over-shot scene would do the trick to get the melancholic vibe across. it just made me want him to die. (whoops!) i'm sure there was an imogen heap song playing in the background. buick!

anyway, thats the come the fuck on!! vibe i've been getting from the last couple of episodes of ggirl. from the fashion show to jenny's mullet, to rufus's VAPID personality (thank god for his washed-up 90's rocker shirts, or i'd write him off completely. he's still decent on mute for another episode or two).

i love blake in general, but can she PLEASE be a bitch again. that half episode when she mean girls-style queen bee'd the UES? not enough!!

perfect segue into mr. hall's apperance as eleanor waldorf's new man. there is nowayinmotherfuckinghell that would happen, and i don't mean that would never happen in real life -- this film major is just fine with suspension of disbelief -- i mean that would never happen in the waldorfs' life. never. and then the tie in to aaron?? at least hold back for a full episode before you reveal something like that. and what 20-something son tells his dad the full name of the chick he's been on one date with and goes into explicit detail about their date??

if this were ny mag, i'd be at -500 points for this episode. not entirely fair. it's sort of like if you have two kids - one's a straight A-student, class president, varisity soccer player and one's, well, a complete failure (Ed. note - i was the complete failure). you don't care at all if the failure comes home with a C on his chem test. the better kid, though, you'd go ballistic. gossip girl is the better kid. i know there's potential there, hidden under jenny's cheap eye liner. step it up. let jenny stop being a little bitch and come home for real. there's no way a spoiled 15 year old would live on the street just to spite her dad. let dan sell out and let bart/chuck completely fuck him out of everything he has (which, is what? pretty much just his pride...?). he's a complete punk, he could get smacked around a little bit.

but, back to serena. i have to admit the writers caught me in a lie. all through last episode and a good 20 minutes of this one, i kept screaming "serena would NOT be into this guy. he's SO gross." but serena would ABSOLUTELY be into this guy. and, i have to admit it was when genius blair hit me over the head with 'you think you're a free spirit' line shot at S. and she does. she would date aaron to prove she is an artist. when she's not at all. you can have her dance around in her slip in the middle of central park in november (it's 31 degrees out today, btw), but you can't convince me she actually listens to joni mitchell. she just leaves her "dog eat dog" LP lying around her bedroom for people to think she does.

so yes, i'm pretty fired up with disappointment that i've devoted time to this show and i've simply been let down. and it doesn't take much to figure out where all of this angst stems from -- MORE CHUCK AND BLAIR, PLEASE!!!!

"The Civil War is over. Let reconstruction begin."

thomas friedman ended his NYT column with those nine, simple words this morning. honestly, i'm really trying to get there. i am. i know we have a long way to go. i know this victory could turn out to be the least of obama's wins. he could find his New Deal to get us out of this economic crisis. he could get us out of iraq.

but i'm not there yet.

i'm stuck in shock and awe. not in his win -- in our win -- truly, i never let myself think we'd lose. but in how the last two years and the crecendo we've been reaching for the last 24 hours has made me rethink myself, as an american. bold/lame statement? maybe. but give me a minute.

i thought i cared about something as deeply as was humanly possible. everything i felt was black and white. we must end a war we never should have started. the government cannot dictate the decisions a woman makes about her life and her body. we have to give every man, woman, child the medical help they need with no questions asked.

those were my passions. then, at just after midnight last night, i realized there was something i cared about more than these issues, which had occupied my thoughts and obnoxious bar room debates for two years.

i felt something that i hadn't in a long time, and didn't even realize i hadn't. had almost forgotten what it felt like. i was proud to be an american.

finally. finally, i wasn't embarrassed to say i was an american. i knew i wouldn't have to pause after announcing my country when talking to my newest pals from down under, waiting for their judgement. i no longer had to pretend i was canadian -- pretty depressing when quebec's a better option than boston.

for the first time that i can remember, my heart is full of images of my country, of my neighbors, of my heroes, really. to think, we were called unamerican, unpatriotic for believing in hope and change. but today we open the newspaper and all across america these two images are all we see. it seems hope and change define america.

so, yes, we have a long way to go. but i think we can start tomorrow.

bowties and tears

i'm mondo depressed that rachel zoe is over. it hasn't even crossed my mind that my truebloodlove bairam and i are the only people who actually watch the show, so unless we want to pony up our combined salary of $42,000 to pay for a second season, it might not be back. please bow your heads in prayer that there are enough fags and respective hags out there to join in candle-light vigil/blow our pals at bravo into season deux.

so bairam (or, brian, for his quaalude'd-out office mate) has a bit of a thing for taylor jacobson, stylist associate in the zoe camp. but her bangs totally stress me out, so i prefer the ralph lauren-sporting, buttoned-up to button-down, alexander mcqueen skinny jeaned, brad goreski, rach's stylist assistant. at least he has a decent grasp of grammar.

also, i wore glasses for a solid 10 years, starting with a pair of red fisher price specs in the 4th grade. can you envision? my first flute concert in all black and white and red glasses? shut. it. down. anyway, i'm also a girl and quickly learned to cry to get my way (usually over playing brenda walsh during recess reenactments of that week's 90210 episode), but i must say, NEVER have i fogged up a pair of glasses the way brad did in the finale. he also has a julia roberts-style vein in his forehead when he gets stressed out. i cant decide if the comparison loses him points or if he still wins based on general vein-appearance.

also, he admits to being 30. THIRTY. i didn't have his skin when i was six. if he stays for another season, he's definitely getting his first wrinkle. and i, for one, intend to be there to watch it form.

p.s. placing bets on how long until his first hook up w/ rodger(!!!!). do you die? i die.

talkin' shit about a pretty sunset

and todaaaaay, i'm sick because...that's what i do. according to my mother it's because my air conditioner is in my window. it's not on, mind you, merely its presence has caused me to fall ill.

regardless, i made the executive decision to work from home today. typically if i were to pull tomfoolery such as this, it would be to get a pedicure or crush a pitcher of bloody marys and perv westside tavern for ed westwick. but today, i actually got my shit together and busted out a large chunk of the latest too-much-work-in-no-time-for-'you've got to be kidding me?!?'-pay project i've gotten myself into yet again. so, i took a certain amount of pride in that. i'm also feeling slightly better today, even contemplated mixing myself a salty dog for the first time in 4 days (yeah, i was feeling that shitty...). and as i wrapped up the last line of page 35235 of a 5935938596302 page wireframe, i turned to look out my window at the peachiest pinkerific sunset i've seen in all my 24 long years.

so i thought to myself, LB - stop talkin' so much shit and blog about something sweet and heartwarming. write the julia fucking roberts of blog posts.

and in that moment, i realized something: not a single person i know gives fuck about nice shit.

a moment of pure clarity (...and class).

and the next moment turned into pure hatred. i realized that i can't really see the sunset because of this massive high-rise to the west. and then my concentration was blown by a cab-induced fender-bender on 8th. which is totally going to fuck up people's commutes home, and i'm going to have to hear honking for AT LEAST an hour. so that means i'm definitely going to end up with a headache on the one day i finally don't have a headache. and then remembered my stomach hurt, but that's just because i'm hungry, but i know that those heaven-sent angels over at dominos would definitely judge me if i ordered a thin crust and cheesy bread again this week. and that forced me to hate society for making me care.

so fuck you society. fuck you cabs. fuck you high-rises. dominos -- you're cool. fuck you sunsets. i'm out.

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.