Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Do you date me?

Are all of you bitches terribly sad that the Jersey Shore is over?  Just as I invented my own jersey shore drinking game involving pickle juice and energy vodka shots…  Snooki and her band of brothers fade to black.  It feels like my summer is ending as well, even though it’s the middle of fucking January.

Well, praise the lord I have found a new obsession, and it’s free, and it’s on the internet.  Ladies and the five or so gay gentleman that read this blog… I would like you to meet BOBBY BOTTLESERVICE!


Bobby Bottle service is the new black, as well as in addition to… my new favorite person! 

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Pussy and PBR

Lately it seems that reality shows are getting a little too close to home. I'm totally fine with shows like The Real Housewives or The Jersey Shore, as these shows make fun of people that I would already make fun of anyway. In the past few months though, I have heard about two different reality shows that I would be eligible to apply for, and I find this a little disconcerting. Does this mean that other people make fun of me? Crap. On the plus side, neither show will last very long, since they will both probably be the most boring shows ever made, assuming they could even get them made in the first place. (Again, not sure that this speaks well of me either. . .).

The first is a show called The Real L Word: Los Angeles. This show will follow six Los Angeles lesbians as they do normal lesbian things, like, you know, staying at home hanging out with their cats drinking chamomile tea and scissoring. I guess the show IS supposed to be on Showtime, so MAYBE they'll show the actual scissoring, but besides that, lesbians are pretty dull. I would also guess that whoever they find to be on the show will end up canceling at the last minute because they're "too tired," so it will probably never air. Bullet number one dodged.

Example two is The Real Hipsters of Silverlake. The craig's list casting call asks for "rich, wealthy, hipster GUYS and GIRLS 21-30 whose personal style is homeless chic." Now I certainly wouldn't call my personal style "homeless chic," (though I have been known to go a day or two without washing my hair), and I don't think I would consider myself "rich" nor "wealthy" (uh. . . are these different?), but these are my peeps damnit!! Let's be honest though, how many episodes can we really have of a bunch of dirty twenty-somethings drinking cheap beer and trying to out-band-name their friends ("Wait, have you heard so-and-so's new album? It's so rad. It blows (insert your favorite band's name here)'s last disc out of the water, man!"). This show is clearly being created for the sole purpose of making fun of rich people who try to look poor on purpose. Lucky for me (and my fellow Silverlakers), no self-respecting hipster would EVER call themselves a hipster, and thus would not audition for the show. Nice try haters!

If these shows ever do air, truth be told, I would watch both of them. And I would probably sleep with anyone on either.

I guess reality shows about your actual life ARE the new black. *sigh* Fuck.

The Bait-And-Switch

Dear Men (and sneaky Women),

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you very little for a duplicitous trick of yours I just learned about... it's called the "bait-and-switch" and it goes a little something like this....

Tell a girl (or guy) you are hooking up with that you're absolutely "Ok" with the fact that she (or he) doesn't want a relationship. It's fine. It's fine! It's totally fine! No problem at all with restricting your encounters to lovely dinners, fine conversation, and raucous bumping of the uglies... nothing more needed, nothing more expected.

And then.....


And then, out of nowhere they start dropping "I miss you", "You're fabulous", and "I wish you were my girlfriend/boyfriend". Talk about a big old FML....

Now, this puts us in a sticky predicament.... it causes self-doubt - which we don't like - and it causes us to question ourselves... were we unclear when we explicitly said, "I don't want a relationship right now," or "What we have is perfect, let's not change a thing." ???

And when we responded to your lovey-dovey-eyed insinuation, "Well, I'm not seeing anyone else..." with a stare more blank than my ex-boyfriend's face when asked to explain why he de-friended me on Facebook whilst we were still dating, what did you think we meant by that? C'mon people, this isn't Canada, you don't need to couple up just because it's cold outside...

Let's just say it's more awkward than the first time I checked out my hot first cousin by accident... Ladies! Gentlemen! I beg of you... Please don't do the bait-and-switch. It's so not the new black.


Poor Career Choices

OK, so this is kinda sorta related my Radiohead rant; but do you ever feel like there are a lot of career options you didn’t consider?  There seem to be plenty of options that don't require a 4 year degree out there and I am starting to think that perhaps I wasted a lot of time and money.

For example, I know a ticket scalper that made $3k in one night on Radiohead tickets (and that shit is not going to Haiti).  I know a guy with some sort of ailment that got him a “medicinal marijuana” perscription and then sells said weed for much more. And I am 100% sure that I would make more money than I do now if I sold something like crack instead of PR services.  Just sayin’

I also become painfully aware of how really stupid people can make a ton of money when I watch MTV Cribs.  If I see another rapper blowing trillions of dollars on shit like fish tanks with mini sharks or a “professional BMX biker” with a mansion, I might hurt someone.

Why my parents didn’t encourage me to be a stripper or rodeo clown blows my mind.  I definitely wouldn’t be asking for loans if I had those kind of skills.

“Non- traditional” careers are the new black.

High Infidelity…

Recently I’ve been pondering the paradoxical nature of monogamy. Is it really possible to be with one person for the rest of your life? Who cares? That’s not what I’m talking about… (the answer is a resounding no, btw).

I’m talking about serial monogamy: the process of dating one person right after another right after another right after another... just writing about it is almost enough to drive me to creative suicide (like doing a pike-jump into oncoming traffic) I can't imagine actually doing it.

And yet I did. For ten years. Was it fun? Sure. Was it worth it? Ya, why not. Was I monogamous the whole time? Um, I believe I’ll answer that question with another question, “would you like to have a bubble bath with your handsy perverted uncle?”

But I digress…

Thanks to ditzy Psyc Majors who ramble our ear off thinking they’re being prophetic and telling us something we don’t know after one too many Seven & Sevens, we ALL know that monogamy is a construct. Great. Thanks. But does anyone stop to think why? Cue equally intellectually inferior Sociology Majors.

So here’s my question (and hopefully it’s a new one; coming from somewhere other than a desire to pursue a major that doesn’t strategically position said girl as more marry-able and ‘cute’): if we all agree monogamy is bullshit… why do we hold this asinine construct up in such high regard? And, why do we stigmatize and alienate those who "fail" at it?

Remember the first time you shoplifted/cheated on a test/snuck out of your parents’ and/or boyfriend’s house to be with a boy/touched your BFF’s boyfriend’s naughty bits?

Um, thrilling!

Infidelity is sneaking a bite of the last cookie (and by cookie I mean married man’s you get it). It’s all us morally devoid weekend sociopaths have left. So to all you naysayers and whistle blowers… shush it! (Or don’t, some of us get off on that too).

Did you ever stop to think that there could be tremendous benefits to having a little fling? Keeps things fresh, learn new tricks, even appreciate your current partner more. True story. (Just be safe, you adorable little skank.)

I was never more vindicated on the day my boyfriend told me my skin was “positively glowing” and "what was my secret?” From that point on our love life improved immensely and I made sure to thank my on-the-side-lover for the bounce in my step… See? Everybody wins.

I leave you with two paradoxical but universal truths:

1) It’s hip to be square

2) It’s good to be bad

And that’s the new black… just don’t tell anyone, my boyfriend would kill me…. LB.

*Disclaimer: don’t be a dumbass and cheat on someone who matters or with someone who has kids. Next week’s lesson is on cost-benefit analysis…

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Will Work for Corporate Rock

In order for you to understand how much distain is brewing inside me today, I am going to have to have to give you some background info.  Radiohead is playing a Haiti benefit show at the Henry Fonda theater tonight.  Tickets were sold online via auction so the highest bidder won.  The highest bidder was playing around 400-500 dollars from what I can figure out. This a “amazing” for 3 reasons:

  1. OMG it’s Radiohead!  Everyone’s favorite band of all time!  Frat dudes love them! Super judgemental hipsters that don’t normally listen to music that you have heard of love them! Your dad loves them!
  2. The Fonda is a smaller venue so it’s going to be “once in a lifetime experience” and what not
  3. That whole giving money to Haiti thing…
 Oh wait, no one gives a shit about Haiti and I guarantee you that scalpers are going to getting much more money than Oxfam off this shit.  The insanity of people trying to get into this show is disgusting. Take for example this guy, he is clearly loaded and doesn't give a fuck about Haiti but was too lazy to get tickets on line.  On second thought, I think I am going to call him and see if he'll take me to Katsuya next weekend. Or this dude is such a fucking loser I don't even know where to start.  This douche has to be my favorite, I am pretty sure that he will be going to the Radiohead concert tonight.  And I am 100% sure that this Persian girl's daddy is going to be PISSED when he hears about her swapping her birthday present for a Radiohead ticket.

I didn't know that people were so desperate to listen to Radiohead.  I am putting my copy of the Clueless soundtrack on Ebay immediately.

Selling your soul to see some band is not the new black.

How to Hide Your Drinking Problem 101

Now, if I was to wake up on a random morning and have a vodka soda with my cheerios, you would probably think that I was a dirty drunk.  But move that meal a couple of hours later and call it "brunch" and it's socially acceptable to drink bloody marys and mimosas.

This is the thing I don't get about brunch;  why is it OK to have a bloody mary but not a rum and coke or perhaps a tumbler of Jack Daniels?  What exactly is it about spicy V8 that makes it socially acceptable to drink vodka in the morning? Does anyone even drink that shit without vodka in it?  The mimosa I kinda understand because it has a "lower alcohol content."  But in those tiny champagne glasses? Bitch please! No one had just one mimosa.

Oh well, who the fuck cares?  It's 2:00 p.m. and I've already had three alcoholic beverages today. 

Brunch is the new black.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Hope for Hotness

OK, so I know the point of the Hope for Haiti telethon was to raise money and awareness for Haiti and for Wyclef Jean to quote himself like he was the bible. And because I did my part and texted GIVE to 50555, I think that it's time to raise awareness about another terrible tragedy. Leonardo DiCaprio is not hot anymore.

Now, I have first loved Leo since "What's Eating Gilbert Grape," when he was totally robbed of an Oscar because he went "full retard," or maybe even before that when he was the hot homeless kid on "Growing Pains." Every girl in America wanted to be that fat chick floating next to him on a piece of wood in the icy ocean, the Juliet to his Romeo or join his murderous cult on "The Beach."  But a terrible event has taken place, and Leonardo DiCaprio is no longer hot.  Please refer to Exhibit A below from last night celebrity clusterfuck:

I mean, him and Jack have have the same amount of wrinkles.  His whole face just seems bloated and his mustache is beyond pervy.  He just makes me think of beer guts and sweat that smells like vodka. Sick.

Leonardo DiCaprio is not the new black.

R U 2 kewl for skul or wat?

When did it become okay to just completely eliminate all grammar and
spelling from text messages?  I mean, I get it, sometimes if I’m up to
159 out of 160 characters and I’ve already eliminated that second
space bar after all of the periods, I may spell “you” as “u,” but I
don’t feel good about it.  And occasionally I’ll throw in a “l8r sk8r”
just to be ironic, but only to people that know that I’m kidding.  I
gave my number to a girl on Wednesday, and today I had the following
text conversation:

Chick: Hey kelly..wats up..
(at this point, I am judging her already, not only on the spelling and
lack of capitalization, but on the two period ellipses instead of 3)
Me: Hello. . . who is this?
Chick: (I will remove her name for annonymity’s sake)..u gave me ur #
Wensdae nite..

Seriously?!?  I mean, I talked to this girl for about 1 minute (yes,
clearly I should be a little more selective about the strangers I hand
my number out to. . . point taken).  This text is basically the first
impression that she is giving to me.  Wensdae!?!?!?!  She spells worse
than an illiterate seventh grader.  Come the fuck on.  And it’s not
like typing “Wensdae” is really any easier than just spelling the
whole damn word.  The name of this person that I am omitting is also a
“creative” spelling (read: misspelling) of a common name.  Perhaps she
was just doomed from birth?  Even so, six out of the eight words in
this text message are wrong (including her name).  Get your ass back
to elementary school, and take your mother with you.

On the plus side, texting can make it easier and more efficient to
scan for mate quality.  I could have spent days talking on the phone
with this person thinking that she was a very bright individual.  Now
I know a person’s level of education by first text, and much less time
is wasted on those unworthy of my attention.

So what was my first impression?  Ur an idiot.  Or should it be U’r an idiot?

Textspeak is not the new black.

by guest blogger KC

Sunday, January 17, 2010

I stopped caring...

Unless Adam Lambert fellates Ricky Gervais in the next five minutes I am turning this off.

The Golden Globes are not the new black.


Is anyone else super-fucking bored?  I thought that Ricky Gervais would spice things up a bit but it’s all the same NBC jokes we’ve been hearing on Conan.  Does anyone care about the dude that wrote the song for Up? How bad did you want to smack that chick from Grey Gardens?  None of these dresses are even exciting.

Let’s make up a Golden Globes drinking game!

I’m gonna drink every time someone thanks god, their agent, the crew, or their husband/wife or a costar or says the word brilliant or amazing.  This will make it more fun.

Bored is not the new black.

Pure Sex

I just missed a lot.  There was a small martini crisis.  I may or may not be drinking a dirty martini made with olives stuffed with colossal garlic cloves and it may or may be delicious.

I might also be bored with all of this celebrity sharing already and why the fuck they give the President of the HFPA screen time is beyond me. The only thing keeping me watching are the occasional glimpses of NPH, god I love that man.

NPH is the new black.

Before you get really excited!

So for those of you mindlessly watching the Golden Globes, there is something you need to know before you get drunk/whisked away by the glitz and glamour.  The Golden Globes are the most bullshit award show out there.

They are voted on by the Hollywood Foreign Press which is basically a mafia of 60 or so geriatric entertainment writers with little to no credibility.  They have been known to vote for people that buy them expensive watches, which is totally allowed apparently.

Did Monique just share her award with everyone who has ever been molested!  That was awesome.

P.S. Dear Monique, god doesn’t give a shit about your Golden Globe.

I'm such a bitch sometimes.

I'm just gonna come out and say it.  Precious is disgustingly fat.

I don't know why when Mariah puts on ten pounds people freak the fuck out and call her fat and pregnant but this bitch who is like a walking billboard for diabetes is supposedly "adorable."  I think maybe they just feel bad for her because of the whole rape/incest illiteracy thing, oh wait that was a fucking movie!

Fat is not the new black.

Rain and celebrities do not mix!

Get out the bubbly bitches!  It's time for the Golden Globe Awards.   It's raining on the red carpet!  Ryan Seacrest loves talking about it! People like Paul McCartney have to hold their own umbrellas.  Fonzworth Bentley just came in his pants.

Oh, according to that guy on E! who uses caulk instead of hair gel, purple is the new black.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Lay off me already...

I am on a brief trip to my homeland and haven't really had time to blog.  Plus I was starting to feel like this chick...

Taking a break from you blog is the new black. See all you bitches on Sunday for the Golden Globes live blog.

Monday, January 11, 2010

And how does giving me 10 more make you feel?

In true Los Angeles/Lesbian/Jewish fashion, when I broke up with my
ex-girlfriend, I decided to treat myself to a little bit of therapy.
Not that I was slitting my wrists and crying all day or anything, but
I was kinda’ bummed, and figured there was some personal growth
waiting to happen in there somewhere.  I wasn’t really interested in
going to some Kaiser group-therapy b.s., so I shelled out a pretty
penny to see a woman my friend had recommended to me.  While this was
helpful, the majority of it was just me talking things through.

Now the other thing that I did for myself in the process of this
break-up was sign up for personal training at the gym (I wanted to be
really well adjusted AND really hot).  What I discovered is that in
between reps is a great time to talk out your issues!  Here’s a person
who 1) is paid to listen to you and b) doesn’t know all of your
friends.  For $30 a half hour every week, I get to spill my guts and
get an outsider’s opinion, while simultaneously toning that same gut!
Genius!  I recommended this to a friend, who said that they maybe
wanted to talk to someone with a little more insight into the world
than a 
personal trainer at LA Fitness. . . , but I stand by my claim.

Multi-tasking therapy is the new black.

Post by guest blogger KC.

For the love of NPH!

I’ve been noticing a suspicious trend in marriages recently: chicks marrying totally gay dudes.  I’m not talking about your run of the mill gay boyfriends who are out of the closet and go to places like “super pop stars” and “cherry pop” with absolutely no shame. I’m talking about that dude that you work with that has been to see Wicked fifteen times and says things like “super-high wedges are going to huge next season.”   We all know this guy.  When you ask him if he’s dating anyone just to see if he’s realized that he’s gay yet, he makes some vague statement about an ex-girlfriend who is in Ohio or college or some other far away place.

This guy is a good friend; he is great for happy hours, if you feel like doing something cultural like going a museum or movie with subtitles, or if your date cancels at the last minute he is always available for dinner.  He always tells you that you look great when you see him, usually with a specific compliment such as “loving what you did with your hair!”  You would probably tell him that you wished he was straight if he ever came out the closet, but not really mean it because you’re not attracted to him at all. 

I keep hearing about girls my age marrying some variation of this dude!  A friend commented last night that “marrying your shopping buddy might be the right move these days.”  She might be on to something.  I mean, aside from the whole sex thing you’re not going to find a more devoted adoring partner than your “metrosexual” best friend. 

Marrying a gay dude is the new black.

Enough is enough (is enough?)

A friend of mine is dating this guy who is basically any Hip Hop enthusiast’s wet dream: tall, dark, and bad ass (and from one of those countries that us prepsters only go to on grad trip or buy ethically made clothing or coffee from when we’re feeling guilty about over-consumption).

So what’s the problem? Well there isn’t one really. Except that recently, my friend started to limp.

“New swagger to match your new man?” I chuckled.

“No,” she groaned, clearly in pain. “He Chris Brown’d my ass.”

Whoa whoa whoa, I thought, it just got dark in here...

And thus, I submit to you the following; how far is too far? When it comes to comedic endeavors, it seems that lately, all decorum and regard for political correctness flies out the window. Quite frankly, I love it.

I say bring it all back – the rude jokes, the naughty insinuations – but let’s keep smart folks. Let’s inspire each other to reach cheekier, more ridiculous levels of humor. After all, life, like that hellaciously boring family on Little People, Big World, is just too short.

Going too far is the new black…. LB

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Announcements! Announcements! Announcements!

I just wanted to let all of you know that I am going to be drinking a shitload of champagne (and by champagne I mean sparkling wine) and live blogging the Golden Globes Awards this Sunday.  I hate celebrities when they are all dressed up, drinking Moet and receiving completely made-up awards.

Get excited bitches!

Friday, January 8, 2010

I wonder if this is a big problem in Peoria...

As if dating in general isn’t hard enough, there is a whole new element to dating in Los Angeles that has been coming up a lot lately.  Celebrity exs.

No, I’m not talking about dating a celebrity myself.  I have to have a few cocktails to tell that story and you’ll probably still have to wikipedia the dude.  I’m talking about dating dudes that have dated celebrities.  As an eastsider there is the constant fear that you’re being compared to Kirsten Dunst every time you meet a hot dude at bar, especially if he’s in a band. 

I once dated a guy who had been in a long relationship with an actress that played the irresistible girl next door in one of those horrible teen movies.  I mean, how are girls like us supposed to compare to girls who get paid to not eat and work out all day? Famous people need to sick to dating other people for that reason.

Slow down Kirsten. Celebrity exs are not the new black.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

A douche is a douche is a douche...

And by any other name, he would still be a douche.  

Tonight I had the pleasure of hanging out in the Cahuenga corridor.  While Los Angeles is a lovely city, we have really douchey parts. None more so than the Cahuenga corridor.  If you're not not familiar there is an educational film to teach you the ins and outs of the corridor.  

There is every breed of douche there,  from the guy with too much hair gel to the guy with $300 ripped jeans.  But do you know pisses me off the most, the douche with the chain wallet!  Who do you think wants to take your wallet with your maxed-out credit cards?  And if they really wanted your wallet, do you think that pussy chain is going to stop them?  If you pair your chain wallet with a studded belt, you're dead to me.

Chain wallets are not the new black.

Shooting isn’t Just for South Central Anymore

Remember in college when you would go totally crazy over any guy (or
girl) in a band?  If it had a guitar, it was totally fuckable.  It
didn’t matter if they had any skill, or any actual gigs, or even any
original song.  Show me a guy with kinda long hair and an accoustic
guitar, and I’ll show you a sorority herpes outbreak just waiting to

Now while a Vintage Fender certainly isn’t a turn off, there is a new
panty-dropping accessory in town – the camera.  Why are cameras so
sexy?  Well boys and girls, it’s a known fact that most people are a
little bit (or a lotta’ bit) vain, and want nothing more than somebody
who can make them really, really, ridiculously good looking.  A good
photographer is like a good hairdresser, but more permanent, because
that shit will be on your facebook for years.  YEARS!!  Everybody
likes looking at pictures of themselves, but it is so much better to
sit and look at good pictures of yourself.

You may now be asking yourself, “I’d love to start a hobby that may
also find me a bedmate, but what type of camera should I buy?”  Now,
you’ve got a couple of options here.  If you’re frequenting bigger
parties where you can swing your way into looking like the official
event photographer, a giant expensive model with a huge lense and huge
flash is the way to go (bonus points if you are ACTUALLY the event
photographer).  If this is your scene, bigger IS better.  Try to
“accidentally” run into people with it, as the “Oops, I’m sorry, did I
hit you with my camera?” can act as a pretty 
good conversation
.  If you’re into a more hipster scene (you silverlake and
williamsburg kids out there), you’ll probably get more “bang” for your
buck (get it?) going with something vintage like a Holga or a
Polaroid.  And if you’re in a bind for cash, just grab that digital
camera that your mom got you for 
Hanukkah 2 years ago and hit the
bars, because. . .

Cameras are the new black.

Post by guest blogger KC

New social networking site...

As a social geography major, I’ve long been fascinated with the way in which we’re all connected. It follows then, that social networking sites and hooking up with a lot of people are two of my greatest hobbies (and proud achievements).

I suppose it is possible I took that kindergarten song “the more we get together the happier we’ll be” a little too literally… However, it really does seem that “your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends” is good advice for both the Internet and the bedroom. But I digress…

Social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter really boil down to one thing: they’ll all about who’s doing what to whom, where. When you think about it, it’s all about geography. We’re all social cartographers of sorts; trying to tap into what’s going on and most importantly, how we fit into the mix. Recently I wondered to myself, why not marry my two greatest loves and become a cocktographer?

Enter LinkedIn; the site for professionals to connect and expand their job networks. So here is my proposal: take the concept of the popular site and apply it to men. I call it DickedIn.

Much like its predecessor, DickedIn would apply the concept of online networking to your junk. Ladies can see how they're "connected", update their status, and keep track of ex-dick. There would be a link for “Would you recommend this Dick?” and the site could be accessed pre-blind dates. (Now where’s the App for that?) Posting photos optional...

DickedIn is the new black.


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Finally Amanda!

So I know that I ragged on Amanda Bynes Cosmopolitan cover a few weeks back, but if you scroll down and look at that shit you will see that she looks like an orange hag.  But the girl finally got it right.  If there is one place that could make your grandmother look like a sex kitten with their airbrushing techniques it's Maxim.  Check out the below.  Well played Amanda- no one will remember that Cosmo incident after they see this sitting next to their boyfriend's toilet next month.

Amanda Bynes (and Maxim's airbrushers) are the new black.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Canadian Hookups are The New Black

Thank you for that lovely introduction LT…

Yes, I’m Canadian and yes I’m sorry aboot it. Yes, me and my fellow sap sucking Igloo dwellers live above the world’s greatest party and we know it. And yes, we apologize way too much and we’re beyond freezing most of the year.

But what you may not know is that our climatically challenged conundrum, coupled with our deliciously potent beer, manifests itself in the following fast-forward mating equation: polite people + two beers = rosy cheeks in betwixt whoever’s thighs are warmest.

Hey, I said we’re freezing, not frigid.

I’ve always found it interesting to be a Canadian outside of Canada. Most Europeans love us, Asians think we’re huge, and Australians are basically what we would look like if we were British, broke the law a couple hundred years ago, and took rugby way too seriously.

But America, oh how I love America. When revealing my citizenship to a potential bedmate in the U.S. I’m always greeted with the same creepily approving nod (as though I’m about to be colonized – I was actually once asked if “I’m into that” ???).

I’m not sure why, but for some reason Canadians are like that rapaciously slutty girl who’s just so darn adorable that you forgive her anyway. Any American who’s traveled abroad or sampled the syrup will attest to this… Ya’ll love to engage in a little free trade between two friendly nations…

And if you don’t, give the Eager Beavers a chance. We’re cuddly, we’re polite, and although we may smell like maple syrup, we’ll literally do anything to warm up.

And that’s why… Canadian hookups are the new black.


Performing my civic (jury) duty...

I am basically only writing this post because I have reached the end of the internet and a new level of boredom.  It's sometime around 2pm-ish and I have been sitting in the "jury holding room" at a Los Angeles courthouse and I will apparently have to sit here until 5pm making excuses as to why I can't serve on certain trials.

We're all just sitting here in silence.  Which is not what they said would happen on the jury duty initiation video in which they implied we would make life-long friends like this was jewish summer camp or something. There are a surprising number of hot dudes here so put on a bright green scarf so that they can better identify me when they write their craigslist missed connection ads later tonight.

I'm so bored I took a walk town the hall to look at all of the criminals and assholes who didn't pay their child support and discovered The Office for Name Changes and immediately my mind started racing.  Do you think I should change my middle name to "awesome" or "bitch"?  I mean awesome would obviously be cooler.  Can you imagine people saying "You know that chick? Her middle name is 'awesome.'"   While, bitch would obviously be more accurate, let's be honest.

But right now I am way too focused on the geriatric man in front of me wearing MBT sneakers.  It's a little late in life to tone your tush asshole!

Jury duty is not the new black.

Monday, January 4, 2010

New Blogger, eh...

As you have probably noticed I am lazy as fuck and rarely update this wonderful blog.  I don't want to bore all of you to death as you sit there clicking refresh over and over again and nothing happening.  So over the next few months I am going to be adding a few additional bloggers to keep you entertained.

Our first new New Black blogger is Lou who comes to us from Toronto.  Even though Canadians are a lesser species and they are sick as fuck please welcome her with open arms.

So welcome Lou! Pictured above.

Outsourcing your blogging is the new black.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Bizarre LA Celeb Sightings

Living in Los Angeles, you obviously see celebrities all the time.  "Oh look, there's Jeremy Piven!" is something you would expect to hear at any the sushi bar or "Is that Lindsay Lohan in her car shaking?" might be something that you hear in the parking lot behind Hyde.  These are all normal things that you get used to over time.  But when I saw Eric Dane of Grey's Anatomy fame and his wife the Noxema girl sitting behind us in the University of Oregon section at the Rose Bowl this weekend I was very confused.  As you may have heard, the celeb couple had little scandal this year and have been laying low.  Also, if anyone remotely famous had a connection to Oregon it would be on the cover of the local newspaper every day.

Once my level of post-game consciousness evened out at hammered from the previous level of black-out drunk (Bowl games are college football games with beer!!!), I went to my computer and started to google and the only connection I could find between the couple and Oregon was their sex tape threesome partner former Miss Oregon Teen USA.  

Supporting your sex tape threesome partner's college footaball team is the new black.

Picture stolen from my mom's facebook page.

Horrible Fashion Trends

I have a lot of pointless theories but one of the most developed is about how American Apparel is actually a social experiment being run by a secret division of the government testing the stupidity of hipsters.   As someone who has actually purchased a $50 hoodie in the past week, I am pretty sure that we the people are failing.  More on that later...

Today, I just want to complain about these ridiculous pants.  How much PBR and cocaine was Dov on when he thought these were a good idea?  They don't even look good on the model.  Even the American Apparel in my neighborhood seems to be offended by them and hides them in the back of the store.   And the only thing that could make these pants worse is American Apparel's janky ass construction.  Imagine how embarrassing it would be to wear these pants... OK, now imagine how embarrassing it's gonna be when the ass splits wide open the first time you wear them to Cinespace on Sunday.  That's just sick.  Now, I have been ranting about these hideous pants for months and yesterday this photo of Menudo came to my attention and it all made sense...

Hideous pants are not the new black.  Send this shit back to the '80s where it belongs.