Category Archives: Favorites

The turtle frog spider picture – now with more sex appeal

When the bbf and I each posted the spider-sitting-on-top-of-the-frog-sitting-on-top-of-the-turtle-in-my-parents’-pool-filter photo on our individual websites back in August, we expected to receive a handful of comments like “Cute!” “Rad!” and “Aww.” We did not expect “Your photo inspired me to get a permanent tattoo.”

“Incredible Journey” Tattoo

Aimee Pierson of California was so touched by the story of these interspecies friends working together to survive that she wanted to spread the word about their “incredible journey.”

It would not have occurred to me to get a tattoo of this image, but I am proud and amazed that our photo made such a difference in someone’s life. And the photo will continue to make a difference at every cocktail party Aimee attends in a backless gown. And at her community swimming pool. And in her sex life.

Looking at this tattoo, I feel like I’m standing on top of a smile on top of a puppy on top of Christmas morning. Thank you, Aimee, for sharing the turtle-frog-spider love.

Breezy Palomino calls out the liars

Of all my Murray cousins and their significant others, Nick and Alice have the best blog.

 Breezy Palomino has the wind in her hair

Scoff Magazine’sThings That Are Never True“:

2) This is the perfect weather for my fleece jacket and river sandals. I just get so cold up top and hot down bottom.

Democratic National Convention erotica

From a Craigslist NYC ad posted yesterday:

Looking for Someone to Recite Pledge of Allegiance While I Masturbate – 28 (East Village)

Hello, I am a SWM looking for someone to come to my apartment to recite the pledge of Allegiance while I masturbate to the Democratic National Convention on TV and ejaculate onto an American flag. Age and physical appearance do not matter, but a background in politics and law would be ideal.

I also have it on good authority that the same lonely gentleman recently posted the following two Craigslist personal ads:

Grocer Seeks Anal Foreplay

I am a 29-year-old grocery bagger at Trader Joe’s seeking a woman interested in engaging in anal foreplay. I have been working in the Union Square Trader Joe’s for 2 years now and am hoping to soon be promoted to manager. Trader Joe’s is an excellent place to work: Congenial coworkers, excellent benefits and 401K, and a culture that rewards excellence. My ideal mate would be as enthusiastic about Trader Joe’s as I am, and would also have a extensive background in rimming, analingus, and bead use.

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN DATING A GROCER BUT ARE NOT WILLING TO ENGAGE IN ANAL FOREPLAY, PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND.

IF YOU ARE WILLING TO ENGAGE IN ANAL FOREPLAY BUT ARE NOT ACCEPTING OF THE TRADER JOE’S LIFESTYLE, YOU MAY RESPOND, BUT DO NOT EXPECT OUR RELATIONSHIP TO WORK OUT IN THE LONG RUN.

 

25-year-old Administrative Assistant Looking for Practical Woman to Engage in Reproductive Acts

The perfect match will be readily aware that the notion of “love” can be reduced to nothing more than a series of chemical reactions, and that mating rituals such as “dance” and “presents” are superfluous acts that should be immediately dispensed of.

She will understand that human beings themselves are nothing more than a particularly complex swarm of cells and that any attempts to claim that we are somehow fundamentally different from other animals is to betray a complete denial of science. Therefore, she will not cry when men die.

She will readily admit that Earth and all its inhabitants are infinitely inconsequential specks of dust and that God would not shed a single tear were the planet to be spontaneously destroyed in a supernova next week.

She must be a decent cook.

If you are interested in assisting me in satisfying my base, biologically-programmed need, please respond. If not, it doesn’t matter, since we will all be rotting in the ground soon.

Craigslist Author, please come forward. I have taken the liberty of outing your fetishes so you will no longer feel ashamed. Maybe you can find true love among my readers, the most compassionate and loyal perverts on the web.

I am dragging Michael Ian Black into my windowless van and driving him some place really special so we can finally have some alone-time

Michael Ian Black, the man previously best known for his Taco Flavored Dorito work, is now featured in my blogroll. He’s finally achieved the superstar status he always wanted.

I like Black’s website because he uses it to 1) publish and review his four-year-old daughter’s short stories; 2) promote drinking, gambling, and Don Cheadle; and 3) publicly challenge David Sedaris’s sissy book sales with his own My Custom Van (And 46 Other Mind-Blowing Essays That Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face).

Here is your chance to cheer on David as he battles Goliath, Goliath being the petite gay man with the glasses. Here is your chance to root for the underdog, the underdog being the hunky, six-foot-tall comedian with an illustrious television career and a devoted nuclear family, the overdog being the bookish Frenchman with the shoes made out of baguettes.

Bookforum’s links are amazing

It’s like they were written specifically for me. In the past 24 hours, Bookforum’s links range from interviews about politics with Playboy Bunnies to a comparison of Nietzsche and Derrida to a defense of rom-com fiction to an interview with Jhumpa Lahiri to an analysis of Lil Wayne’s new rap album. And they do that every damn day. While the Bookforum people have already scoured the internet for the most transfixing news in the world, I’m still chewing on my morning toothbrush and trying to figure out what the headless people in my dream signify. But because Bookforum knows me so well, they will probably link to my personal dream diary tomorrow. Those people either employ some extremely weak or some extremely powerful search engines; they can somehow access my whole brain.

The homeless, hipsters, and the marriage of style icons

Gawker is compiling a guide to “New York’s modern eccentrics.” The list includes Mr. Purple:

Is Mr. Purple from the Upper West Side still around? I first saw him in 1978 on West 86th St. He wore flowing purple robes and a live boa constrictor wrapped around his neck and waist and he rode a purple bike…He asked my mother out on a date and she actually went.

This is so much better than Gawker Stalker. I don’t love the idea of turning potentially mentally ill people into pseudo-celebrities, but they’ve suffered for their craft a lot more than Sarah Jessica Parker has and they deserve the fame if they want it. Plus I expect that the internet attention will benefit them in some way. Maybe they’ll start blogs. Or write memoirs. Or maybe they’ll get laid by Gawker groupies:

The Earth Angel is a freak of nature who frequents the 6 train and various buses. He was written up in AM New York in early April. This guy gets on the train – with hair down to his ass – holding a folder in front of his face that he calls his forcefield. He claims to have been sent to Earth to find the angels – which, conveniently, are always hot chicks.

For some reason hipsters love crazy homeless people. I remember a man in D.C. who knew this and used it to his advantage. Every night he sat outside the Black Cat, an indie night club, and said “Black cat, black cat” on a monotone loop to the kids standing in line at rock shows. No one could resist him or the little change cup he shook. The man was a legend who made more money than I did. He may still reside in D.C., but I bet he’s retired to St. Tropez or Ibiza by now.

The story of the Black Cat Man teaches that if you’re homeless and you have style and a gimmick, you might as well capitalize on it. Maybe hipsters relate because they have style and gimmicks of their own. Is being homeless really so different from being in a band? Is being homeless really so different from living in a mansion? Is being schizophrenic and owning snakes really so different from seeing a therapist and breeding dogs for Westminster? For the sake of my moral convenience, no. But the truth is I lost my train of thought halfway through that paragraph.

Crazy about Todd Levin

Today’s Morning News features an essay by Todd Levin in his “Consoles I Have Known” series. Levin is a singularly gifted writer and comedian with a website and a love/hate relationship with video games. In this essay, entitled “Praystation,” he tackles both the phenomenon of Great Writers Who Move to New York City to Be Famous and End Up Writing Shitty Online Copy about Bass Fishing,  and the Chinatown bootleg gaming industry. This is the read of the day unless I write something equally brilliant later, which is unlikely.

Hot damn, it’s going to be a good day after all

Nerve and IFC present. . .

The 50 Greatest Comedy Sketches of All Time.

I’m not interested in becoming a reputable movie reviewer

Therefore I can admit that I am psyched about seeing 10,000 BC tonight at the cinemaplex near Taco Bell. From the moment I glimpsed a preview for this film about prehistoric mammoth hunters, I knew I had to see it in the theater. I feel like all the decades of improvements in film technology, CGI, and digital post-production have been building up to tonight’s realistic depiction of a saber-toothed tiger eating somebody in a loincloth. I also spent many hours reading the Clan of the Cave Bear series when I was a kid, particularly the sex scenes. I just have a thing for prehistory and I am too lazy to be an archaeologist. I like movies and books to do the work of my imagination. Full review to come!

Inspirational tear-jerker on PBS

I watch television purely for its entertainment value. I like my programming stupid, obnoxious, and grossly irrelevant. When I’m sitting on the couch I like my frontal lobe to lapse into a sitcom rerun coma. Which might seem weird because on the whole I am a serious person. I avoid fluffy books. I am always trying to quit tabloid magazines. But if I’m going to watch TV, I want to be able to turn my brain off completely.

Yet last night when I was babysitting Harper “I Want to Wear My Purple Flip-Flops to Bed” June, I could find nothing worthless on TV. Therefore I was forced to watch something good. And it turned out to be really good.

Have you guys heard of PBS? PBS. . .Pretty Bitching Shows. Last night African American Lives 2 was on. Besides making me fall in love with Chris Rock in a way I never thought I could (maybe my newfound infatuation has something to do with the little hat he was wearing. The bbf has a similar hat that also makes me wild. Sometimes I borrow it and expect strangers to fall in love with me. But it doesn’t seem to work the same way for girls.), the AALives2 special made me forget that I might be missing some reality show or crime drama on CBS.

Henry Louis Gates narrates the series, which guest stars Don Cheadle, Tina Turner, Morgan Freeman, Chris Rock, and Maya Angelou, among others. Granted, I tuned in at the end of the program, but here is the gist of it: Gates (I love that he’s a Harvard professor and his family still calls him “Skip”) presents a handful of famous African Americans with their own family histories, copiously researched back to the days of the Civil War. On camera, Gates reveals to his guests who their great great grandparents were; he shows them their roots. The institution of slavery and its omnipresent aftermath deprived millions of people of their histories. For Gates to give them back, even if only to a select few, is deeply moving. Especially to a girl who hasn’t had a drink for a week and is consequently an emotional rollercoaster.

I have two highlights I want to write about, so don’t read any further if you are immediately going to order the DVDs. But there are plenty more highlights in the series, to be sure.

1) Gates tells Chris Rock, who wears his little hat so endearingly, that one of his ancestors became a North Carolina state legislator after emancipation. This is the same ancestor who fought for his freedom in an all-black regiment in the Civil War.

In his heartbreaking response to the news that his great great grandfather was a state legislator, Rock says, “Until I lucked into a comedy club at, you know, age 20, just on a whim, I assumed I would pick up things for white people for the rest of my life. . . .If I’d known this, it would have taken away the inevitability that I was going to be nothing.”

Rock says that when he was a kid, he wanted to be President of the United States. That’s all he wanted to be. But he was born just days after Malcolm X was assassinated, and in that violent climate, what mother wants her black son to grow up to be a powerful leader? Yet if Rock’s Brooklyn family had not had its history wiped out by racist revision, maybe he would have had the self assurance to pursue politics. But he did all right for himself. It’s just crushing to imagine all the young people who don’t succeed as a direct result of being deprived of their histories.

2) Gates tells Morgan Freeman about the legacy of his great great grandfather, a white slaveowner, and his great great grandmother, a slave on his plantation. Working only from census and land records, Gates determines that these great great grandparents stayed together for decades after emancipation. They raised seven children in the same household. The former slaveowner deeded land to his “illegitimate” sons. And then, for one last kick in the nuts, Gates shows Freeman a recent photo of the gravestones of his great great grandparents. The two stones are side by side, surrounded by those of the children. And on the gravestone, the great great grandmother shares her partner’s last name.

I can’t make this stuff up.

And it’s not just a show on PBS. The African American Lives project is ongoing, with educational outreach, some deal with Oprah, and a companion book to the series. I only wish someone would mass-produce Chris Rock’s devastating little hat.