I’m the new male genitalia correspondent for the Virginia Quarterly Review! Best literary blog in the world! On its way downhill starting today! Unless they fire me!
YouTube 1.0 = Blogging about tonight’s episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos in real time.
Haha - That kid stuffed toy trucks down his pajama pants before he went to bed.
Haha - That dumbass fell off the roof.
Haha - That trick-or-treater dressed like Gumby tripped on his green legs and couldn’t get up.
Yesterday the bbf and I spent FIVE hours at Ikea shopping for a kitchen. Usually when I make the Ikea trip, it takes me exactly one hour to curl up on a floor model futon and cry, or drown my stress and misery with Swedish cinnabuns in the store’s food court. But this time I was patient, I didn’t get overwhelmed (couch! fake tv! huge shopping cart! screaming child! couch! loveseat! couch!), I treated everything like a big game of House Tetris, and I even treated myself to a Buffalo Chicken Quesadilla at Pizzeria Uno’s as a reward for good behavior. Still, I will not risk going back again for at least another week, when I have to return or exchange everything we bought.
Does anyone else remember the historic day last August when Perez Hilton announced he was 100% sure Fidel Castro was dead? I am thinking about adapting his blog post into a feature-length film, like War of the Worlds (based on a book radio hoax) or Pirates of the Caribbean (based on a theme park ride). Perez will play himself, and at the end of the movie Martians will land and force him and Castro to make out with each other on the short gangplank of a pirate ship.
I chose this for my first hosted image. I know you understand.
I took the GRE today. In Fairfax. Two hours away. During my naptime. And they wouldn’t let me bring my candy or my Chapstick into the room with me. And I had to ask for a key to use the bathroom, which I hate. And I felt all this pressure to “know things” and to “do well.” But despite all of that, I think I did okay on the test. I was surprised considering that in lieu of studying last night, I went out for Mexican food and then watched The Thing, starring Kurt Russell. Kind of a great movie.
Lying in bed last night I was all excited (!) because I was going to take a test today (the challenge! the novelty! the possibility that the testing staff would pull me aside halfway through and say, “You are the smartest person ever to take this test. Don’t worry about finishing. Enjoy this bag of jellybeans instead.”), I asked Darren to hit me with some vocabulary words for me to define. He only offered me one: fag-a-tronic. I was stumped. It didn’t do much for my confidence. Fagatronic? Can that be a verb? I couldn’t even use it in a sentence.
I still don’t know how I did on my essays, but I am hoping that the inspired joke I made about fat stunt people with osteoporosis will earn me extra points.
I just discovered that my website is featured in my favorite local paper! I always read Nell Boeschenstein’s column because we seem to share taste in all things internet, so I was thrilled to be mentioned. Thanks Nell!
I have to mention that I was at Court Square Tavern tonight when I picked up the C-Ville, and when I saw my name in print I experienced the simultaneous needs to throw up and to call my mother.
It was about 3 in the morning when I woke up with an exciting new perspective on human pollution. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be weird if people had special habitats for yawning and sneezing in the same way they have special habitats for peeing and defecating?” Like if someone was sitting at a dinner table and had to hiccup, she would have to excuse herself to the hiccup room and everyone would judge her if she didn’t wash her hands afterwards.
I try to be charming at parties, and yet I always end up dry humping someone by the bar or threatening to steal a girl’s baby. I lose people’s jackets, I feed hyper kids too many cookies, and if certain friends haven’t arrived by a certain hour, I make angry, drunken phone calls demanding their presence. But the important thing is that I have a good time. I always manage to have a good time. I am glad that the party ended when it did though, because otherwise I might have proposed mooning cars or playing the fainting game and I would have weirded out my last remaining friends. I didn’t go to many parties in high school and college was no disco, so I think I am still stuck in that middle school party place, where you want everyone to overeat popcorn and candy, gossip about celebrity haircuts, take forbidden drags of cigarettes, and make a public nuisance. And then it’s one in the morning and your guests are bloated, drunk, or pregnant, and they all want to go home. I, on the other hand, want to keep hanging out and play Truth or Dare or Ouija Board, but instead I put all my Pepsi and vodka-induced energy into washing the party dishes and sweeping the floor while the bbf passes out watching The Goonies, and then I kiss him on the cheek and I can pretend we’re playing house in the 1980s.
Thanks to everyone who came to our party! If you didn’t get an invitation I promise it was an oversight or I think you smell bad.
First draft
First person
Last chance