friday dating: 2006 and beyond

well, it's almost that time. you'll be in a semi sparkely top (unless you have a dong, please), you'll be drunk on some mix of coors light, vodka cranberries and southern comfort and as everyone knows, since it will be new years eve, you'll be ready to french. there are a few things you're going to keep at the forefront of your mind, through that boozey haze, if you want to nab yourself a midnight frenching partner. afterall, it's the one minute (literally) of the entire year where you can just grab someone and make the shit out of their face without it being weird, slutty or overtly forward.

1. first of all, play that mother cool. i mean, just don't worry too much. if all else fails, you'll end up frenching all of your either same sex friends (if your a girl of any orientation) or female friends (if you're a gay guy) or a really random and very drunk stranger (if you're a straight guy).

2. in playing it cool, you must be a floater. don't commit to one table, one bar stool, one area of the party. keep moving. it's never too late to switch to a new prospective make out partner. keep your eyes out for someone who is on a similar prowl and make sure you're within about 2 feet of them at about 11:58pm.

3. start the flirtation early in the night. nothing heavy. no need for lots of conversation. maybe start off buy finding a cute person and buying them a shot. then take off. come back in an hour or so for another. laugh a lot but don't talk. just laugh and drink. don't over think it.

4. when the countdown begins, don't go roving for any heavy eye contact with the object of your desire. hug friends, count loudly, act non chalant and if you must, casually kiss someone else first. then move in for a hug, quickly transition that into a world class french fest. know what i mean?

5. afterwards, don't assume that you're going to have a bed buddy. your mission was clear: tongue at midnight. don't get all greedy.

and lastly, happy new year, bitches.

wolf like me

i don't have cable, so when i get the chance to house sit for my cabled friends, i get really excited. i wake up in the morning and flip that shit on as soon as i can. instead of watching something very mind fulfilling like cnn or the weather channel, this morning i went straight for mtv. you know, so i could get knowed up on what the kids are into these days. i found out that davey havok from afi wears fake eyelashes in the snow, jay-z is a race car driver and that winners of america's next top model actually DO get work after the show is over.

first of all, this video rules and the song is one of my favorites in quite some time. secondly, did you see naima?

last thing. i found out that blogger isn't letting unibloggal be a part of "erin is gross" anymore, so until then i'll be squatting on the audsteph account.
peace,
erin

ho ho ho (aka erin)

hi y'all. don't worry, i didn't adopt a southern accent while i was gone for the baby jesus holiday times. i headed up north to seattle for a few days to eat the shit out of some food, stay in weird hotels and hug lots of older people who liked to tell stories about me from whenst i was but a tot. a few highlights from my trip:

while watching lots of tv, i saw an infomercial for YOGA BOOTY BALLET. i've searched the internet like crazy for the past 12 seconds and haven't been able to find a video in order to demonstrate how insanely wtf-y this shit is. they have a move called "bad kitty" where you stick your spandex clad ass out really far and make cat scratching motions with your hands while gyrating profusely. it's hot.

while shopping for some last minute gifts, including a "secret santa" gift for a yet to be announced female member of my family, i visited a fred meyer in bellingham, washington. as far as i can tell, fred meyer occupies the rung on the ladder above kmart and walmart but about six below target. they sell lots of food, delicious wines and a foot spa for only $17.99 which i purchased!

remember when i previously mentioned stories about little me? well, every time there is a family gathering some variation of this little story seems to rush violently from the voice boxes of either my grandma or one of my 8 aunts. apparently at age 2, i plopped down on the couch in front of a room full of family members and loudly asked them if they all wanted to see my "trotch" while lifting my dress above my head. oh, good to know nothing's changed. i'm always fun to have at parties!

after returning, i visited our myspace page. i was reminded that about 2 weeks ago i drunkenly updated our general interests section to include some of mine and our favorite things. a dear reader and genuine real lifey friend was puzzled by one of these interests, namely, drysex. he wondered why we might be inclined to list this over its counterpart, wetsex. see, tenth grade erin was a huge fan of drysex. you could experience what one of our friends named "pee feeling," not get prego and do it in your mom's minivan without being naked. also, modern day adult erin is a huge fan of all things retro and vintage, which includes drysex. so old school. now go add us as your myspaceter so we feel very popular and friendly.

lastly, blogger has been screwing me hard (and dry) for the past six days or so. i have been totally unable to sign into blogger to update you with drunken reflections on holiday lore. it blows. you'd think google could spend some of their fifteen hundred million trillion dollars on making this thing work, right? afterall, the future of china depends on me writing about dumb crap.

yours truly,
erin
p.s. it might be a little slow around here for a few days. it's impossible to "get it up" for your blog when your with your mom a lot.

Friday dating tip (Saturday Style)

Due to Holiday travel plans and some crossed Unibloggal communication, this week’s dating tip is appearing one day late.

Today’s topic: The First Post Hookup Email. Or, FPHE, as some call it.

You know what I’m talking about. The sexual tension had been building – whether it was or two months, two days, or two hours, doesn’t matter – the tension was there. So after a drunken party or a long night out at the bars, you find yourself finally hooking up with the subject of this tension. The two of you have a passionate night of ecstasy. And, if you’re lucky, maybe grab brunch together the next day.

Monday comes and you return to work as usual, but you can’t get this person out of your mind. So, rather than doing something as bold as calling their cell phone, you decide to send a nice email. Thus bringing us to FPHE.

This is a sensitive procedure. Any stray letters and you can ruin your chances of seeing the person again and your chances at a happy life. You want to make it clever, without looking like you’re trying to be clever. Breezy, without sounding like you’re trying to be breezy. Meaningful and yet indifferent. Subtly communicating that you want there to be a repeat hookup, without implying that you want to have babies with them. At least, not just yet.

Tactics you should steer away from:

Too breezy: “Hey, yeah, so I ran across your email address and I thought maybe I’d drop you a line.”

Making up excuses for emailing: “So, I saw this dog today, and I remembered you said that you had a dog growing up. And I thought maybe I should write to let you know that there’s a dog on Smith Street right now.”

Too blatantly hookup focused: “Remember when I saw you naked the other night? Hehe, that was cool.”

Stay away from dumb typos: “I’d love to go they’re again with you the next time your free.” (especially if you’re writing this FPHE to miss stillman)

Don’t blow it: “I had fun the other night. Soooooooo, when are we getting married?”

Follow these simple rules and just be yourself (unless you’re lame, in which case, be someone else) and you’ll construct the perfect FPHE.

peace out '06

2006 was, all in all, pretty damn great. thanks for another rad year, sweet pals!

1. what's your favorite unibloggal post ever?

i'm pretty sure this post changed some lives.
also...friday's dating tip: stick to your own hood contains, in my opinion, one of the best quotes of '06:

"if you're from the marina and you're a dude, your salmon button up shirt will match your girlfriend's face, an awesome hue achieved from months of tanning. also, she's at the gym so much that she won't even notice that you're probably gay. why else would you vote for a republican and wear shiny dress shoes on the the weekend?"


2. what's your favorite record of the year?

i'm gonna give first place to califone 'roots & crowns'. here are a few of my faves for your listening pleasure.

3. what's your favorite celebrity wtf of the year?

rip torn-the-eff-up's mugshot's just too damn good.

4. most babe-a-licious man of the year:

sweet will johnson.

since i didn't give 'fort recovery' top album status (although it's def up there) i've gotta give the centro-matic frontman that melts the shit outta my heart some love.

5. drunkest moment of the year/biggest impending doom feeling:

i was a detective for shame-o-ween this year. apparently there were some clues somewhere in the area of gary tj's lady friend's breast which i grabbed, complimented (to him) and then entirely erased from my memory until i was reminded of the majority of the evening a couple days later.

6. favorite photo of your group of pals from 2006:


pants off dance off

7. Favorite thing (blog/site/video) online right now:

i need music in my ears for pretty much the entirety of the work day or i go insane. thank sweet baby jesus for hype machine and also kexp. some good daily programs but the real jackpot is the huge archive of live performances.

8. Craziest crazy person in the street/on public transportation story:

while on the 22 fillmore the bus got real crowded and a pretty beat old lady got pushed a little. she screams at a group of teenagers "you knocked my teeth out, bitches". i looked down the aisl and sure enough her full set of dentures were lying there. she then screams multiple times "gimme my fuckin' teeth back". one of the young dudes finally reaches down, grabs the teeth, hands them to this fine old lady and she shoves them back into her mouth.
i also have endless sick stories about the 14 mission if anyone's new year's resolution is to barf more.

9. Favorite beverage of 2006:

i love me some good coffee

10. New Years Resolution:

i hope to invert the current ratio that rules my diet of burritos:veggies and coffee/booze:water

It's been a crazy year

With ten days to go, I have all my questions answered. Well, not all my questions, but the ten that Erin posed today.

1. what's your favorite unibloggal post ever?

I think I’d have to go with Steph’s “Series of letters to the first girl I ever fingered by Michael Ian Black” because it led me to one of my favorite pieces on the web. A piece I reread almost weekly and it makes me lol every time.

2. what's your favorite record of the year?

At the risk of sounding conceited, I’m gonna have to go with Chosen Pussy’s Greatest Hits.

3. what's your favorite celebrity wtf of the year?

Ummmm, do the roommates of the Real World count as celebrities, because I think everything they’ve done since they moved in has constituted one giant wtf.

4. most babe-a-licious man of the year

Bea Arthur.



Hot.

5. drunkest moment of the year/biggest impending doom feeling

Oh, where to begin. Was it this year that I woke up in nothing but a mullet wig and then barfed on the F train? No, that was 2005. Perhaps is was the night I went out in the meat packing district with Gordon and Terryl and managed to get us kicked out of all the hip clubs. Whatever, some people just like to take off their shirts when they’re pretending to pole dance.

6. favorite photo of your group of pals from 2006, please post



I’m just kidding.

My favorite photo has to be from my Ugly Sweater Party on Saturday. I’m sure Gordon’s thrilled that this is now online TWICE.



Also, jumping back to the beginning of 2006, I have to include this one of the masterbraiders:




7. Favorite thing (blog/site/video) online right now (with link).

My all-time favorite blog is of course dooce.com the blog that inspired me to create You Nork, which in turn inspired Stephanie to start Unibloggal. So to sum it up, if there was no Dooce, there’d be no Unibloggal. And my favorite video might still have to be from The Lonely Island, pre-SNL fame. So, the video is not in fact from 2006, but the SNL fame is… sort of.

8. Craziest crazy person in the street/on public transportation story

On Wednesday night, I was followed the four blocks from the subway station to my house in Brooklyn by a gangster-type lad shouting, “Don’t pretend that you aren’t looking for cock! All you bitches wanna get fucked. You want my cock, bitch. Don’t you cross the street to get to get away from me. Come on, you know you want my cock.” I mean, he wasn’t that crazy because I really did, in fact, want his cock. I ended up inviting him upstairs for some Christmas cookies and a good fuck.

9. Favorite beverage of 2006

Dr. Pepper. It will always be Dr. Pepper. I love you, Dr. Pepper.

10. New Years Resolution

Cut down on Dr. Pepper.

hey 2006, don't let the door hit you in the ass

happy holidays, everyone. in honor of this special time of year, we have decided to share with you a look back on what for us has been a year of growth and subtle transition into the blogosphere. we hope you're happy to have us, because for us, you dear 12 readers (that's right, we've grown!), you're all we need to have a stuffed stocking. throughout the next week or so, various members of the unibloggal family will share with you a quaint retrospective on the year past. we hope you enjoy it. and if you're traveling, be safe, keep it to under three liquid ounces and don't drink too much egg nog. that shit is nasty.

Favorite unibloggal post ever?
that's an easy one. by far our most awesome and "commercially viable" post was tonight i'll be your naughty girl, the creative pubic hair manipulation game by nads, posted by laurin on august 21st.
Favorite record of the year?
another easy one. so this is good bye by the junior boys kicks major ass. and it makes you (me) want to take off your (my) clothes. second place goes to show your bones by the yeah yeah yeahs. and their website kicks ass.
Favorite celebrity wtf of the year?
well, i tend to believe that all celebrities are wtf worthy, but i think my blue ribbon goes not to britney, paris, lindsey or the crocodile hunter, but to jared leto for being the biggest douche brain on the planet with the shittiest band alive.
Most babe-a-licious man of the year?
one minute for erin brown to be totally mushy.
Drunkest moment of the year/biggest impending doom feeling?

Favorite photos of the friend family from 2006?
they're all right here.
Favorite online "what have you" (blog/video/etc)?
hmm. i'm very self centered, so i usually just read our blog over and over and over. let me me think of something other than the "dick in a box" video, which i can't stop watching. here's a blog, a video, and a photo that i really love.
Craziest crazy person in the street/on public transportation story:
this actually happened today when a 90 yr old chinese woman was coughing and hacking up loogies so hard (into a plastic bag) that she barfed on the bus. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Favorite beverage of 2006?
champagne. i'm fancy.
New Years Resolution?
i would like to start recycling and not eating cookies. and i'll start smoking more, so i can quit. and i'll definitely go to the gym a whole bunch. (not)

christmas present anyone?

after catching up on episodes of mtv's rob and big (which i now love) i have discovered that i am now also obsessed with bulldogs, especially given their natural pension for skateboarding. rob and big chronicles the (mis) adventures of professional skater rob drydek, his bodyguard/bff christopher "big black" boykin and there new bulldog puppy meaty. in one of the episodes they come across tyson, "the skateboarding bulldog," and attempt to teach meaty how to skate. i'm in love, i'm definitely getting one and they will be skateboarding before you know it. here's a little promo video of tyson's talents to get you obsessed too.

I carried a watermelon?!?

It was the worst “I carried a watermelon?” moment at a work meeting ever.

All our male readers may need an explanation. Unlike every girl, you dudes may not have watched Dirty Dancing 800 times over and balked in empathy when Baby informs Johnny that she “carried a watermelon” to get into the staff party.* Because how could any line ever be more embarrassing than that?

I’ll tell you what line could be more embarrassing than that. Let me start by explaining that I’m not a good presenter. It’s something I need to work on, as it’s the job of a copywriter to present their ideas in front of big groups, but I still have a way to go. So at the meeting last week to review all the ideas for a new constipation medication website, I got up in front of 20 adults to present my masterpiece: The Normalmeter (pronounced nor-MALL-mi-tur). The tool that helps people find their “normal” when it comes to their digestive issues (my job is sooo glamorous). I got so nervous when I stood up that here is what eloquently came out of my mouth:

“The point of this program is to illustrate that everyone has a different ‘normal.’
What’s normal for you might not be normal for someone else. I mean, maybe normal for you is being a vegan. And normal for me, is, um, eating puppies!”

The room grew silent and 20 faces looked at me blankly.

Finally the creative director spoke, “Uh, that’s just not normal.”

EATING PUPPIES? From what sick recess of my brain did that example spring? Good thinking, Audrey. Eating fucking puppies. Maybe normal for you is decapitating kittens and raping babies.

Well, at least everyone at the office now knows what a freak I am, so next time I say something insane they won't be surprised.

*I also used to pause and rewind the shot of Patrick Swayze’s bare ass getting out of bed. Is that normal?

teen beat: best present ever

basically i could have used this weekly box of chatter to air my feelings of lust and admiration for one justin p. timberlake (i just made up his middle initial, so what). he went from totally geek to totally chic (like ronald p. miller aka mcdreamy) and he makes songs that inspire women worldwide to take off their clothes. he's from the south but for the most part curbs his potentially hideous accent. he devirginized britney spears and is now boning a hot older lady, something we older ladies greatly admire. in addition, he dances like a BSG (basketball shoe guy) but doesn't wear suspenders or actual athletic attire. and to make matters even more insanely bonerific, he's in this, which might be the single catchiest and hilarious thing i've seen in like 3 days:


on january 11th me and several of my girl and gay friends will be traveling to san jose to see mister timberlake in the flesh. we will be riding in this:

except ours is going to have a STRIPPER POLE and a cage for COUGARS. roar!

coke head of the class

this weekend, i had the displeasure of attending a random holigay party filled with coked-up homos of marginal intelligence. normally, my puritanical ass can guzzle alcohol in these kind of situations and have a good time. however, i should have listened to my gut—let’s call it my smilla’s sense of snow—which told me to leave as soon as i stepped foot inside. you see, the party was a pseudo-serious one, involving heart-to-hearts, cheese spreads, "which firm do you work for?," and "oh my god, i’ve been to indiana!!!"

anyway, i stuck around for a good 45 minutes, but had to leave after overhearing the following conversation which, sadly, was delivered in earnest:

coke head 1: you know what?
coke head 2: what?!
coke head 1: like, in 50 years, like, in our lifetime, the north pole is totally going to melt and we’re going to be underwater.
coke head 2: that is so totally going to suck!!!
coke head 1: i know! but you live on the 4th floor so you should be okay.
coke head 2: yeah. you know, that’s why i didn’t take that job in miami.

holidating

this is a sexy couple on their way to a black tie holiday affair.

i was watching the today show this morning while i was hungoverly getting ready for work and ann curry and meredith vierra were giving me tips on what to wear to holiday parties. mine is tonight. i hope i don't barf.

anyway, the holidays can be a tricky time for daters, so i am going to offer a few suggestions that i hope will make your yule tidings a bit more sexified.

1. don't buy him drakkar noir. that's for 10th grade. actually do buy it for him because that way you can ensure that no other woman will both never have sex with him and also not come within fifteen feet of him.

2. don't include mention of one boyfriend/girlfriend in your family holiday update letter and accidently send that to another boyfriend/girlfriend. that actually happened to me this year and it was awkward.

3. don't walk around with mistletoe hanging above your head expecting that lots of babes will want to french you. attach it just above your zipper, instead.

4. if you have an office crush and you somehow get that person as a secret santa, don't buy them undergarments. not only will you offend them if you buy a size that's too big, but you'll have to spend every day of the coming year wondering if they're wearing them. sheer office torture!

5. if you're going home to meet the parents of a new significant other, there are a few things to keep in mind. (a) don't get drunk and sit on his dad's lap, especially if you're a boy or a REALLY hot girl - either way, dad boners are uncomfy (b) don't bring up the possibility of children, the mom will get really excited and will hate her child forever if he/she someday dumps you (c) don't have loud sex, duh. that's such a cliche from every meet the the parents rom com.

6. don't get swept up in the holiday mash fest and end up feeling lonely. if you do, you'll end up having either i'm only doing this because i don't want to cry sex, if anyone else were available i'd be doing it with them sex or please buy me a christmas present even though you hate me sex. (not sure what exactly that is, but i'm counting on one of you to figure it out for me.)

More office party lore

Okay, you wanna talk office holiday parties?? We'll talk office holiday parties. Actually, I can't say too much about mine because my memory fades sometime after the third hour of the open bar. But I did get some strange looks the next day. And more than one coworker came up to me and asked "Are you really in a band called 'Chosen Pussy'?" "Um, no. That must've been a different drunk freelancer with her tights on her head."

However, I can talk about the Fake Office Holiday Party by Metro Metro that I went to on Wednesday. The one where everyone pretended to be a typical employee. Characters included:

Condescending IT Guy
Loud Talking HR Person Who Knows Your Personal Info
Guy who "knows" Photoshop from a 2-Hour Class
"Technically, That's Illegal"
Lunchtime Yoga Group Member
"Wait to You Hear How Smart My Baby Is"
The Gay Guy
"I Swear I'm Not Gay"
"This Is Just a Day Job, I'm in a Band"
Smells of Cat
"Well, This Isn't How We Did It In the Marines"
Office Virgin
"I'm Not Racist, But"
“Want to Read My Poetry?”
Inappropriately Dressed
One of the Four People Nobody Can Tell Apart
"Buy My Kids' Cookies"

If you’ve worked in an office, I know you know all those people. The winner of the night, or course, was “Office Whore” but only because she blew everyone in the bathroom. Cheater.

L+O+V+E

i would like to take this opportunity to wish my fellow unibloggistas a happy six month anniversary. i feel like we've really bonded and have become one since way back in june when this fine blog was birthed from our fingers.

awesome audrey - even though you are on an opposite coast, i feel so attached to you through your talk of poo.
sweet stephanie - your photoshopping skills make me weak in the knees. my eyeballs quake at every image your brains create.
lovely laurin - even though you're now married, i am happy that we share a love child named unibloggal.
captivating colleen - you are a little tornado and i hope to soon be at the eye of your storm.
jammin' julie - despite the fact that you've fled from frisco, just like peaches & herb, we've reunited and it feels so good...cyberly.

Work Holiday Party Aftermath

You know the girl in your office who doesn't speak and you really aren't even sure if she has teeth and then all of a sudden you have your holiday work party and that girl is dancing on the bar with her shirt off and frenching tony from accounting? Well, folks, I'm that girl. But instead of dancing on the bar, I was wrestled to the ground and instead of taking my shirt off I had a bloody nose after face planting into the bar that filled up two dishrags. Oh, and it wasn't tony from accounting, but it was the audio guy and rohit gave me a motherload of a hickey. Yeah.

Okay, the party started at 2pm (first mistake) at dave and busters - I know, it's douche central, but so fun. I can't turn down skeeball. Ever. Or air hockey. But this is the result of my air hockey game:


Okay, time to go home and do a wardrobe change (only cause if I didn't, I would have been wearing a loin cloth by the end of the night).

Onto party number two - lameo. Seriously, one co-worker told me about how she used to be obese and how when she lost all the weight she had what she described as a "mudflap", and honestly, I couldn't handle that shit. So…onto party number three (mistake #45 by this point). That's where I talked to my boss for over an hour about how I don't really want to work in television (how do I still have a job today?) and about being single - it was like pillow talk! I don't think I let him get a word in. I surely didn't ask one question - just flapped my gums till finally it was time to put a lid on it. He politely excused himself.

So I moved down the bar to the audio guy who is so cute, but lord, he had the world's ugliest shirt in the world on. I tried to take it off and I believe I asked him what he was thinking when he put that on, but boy oh boy, retardo. So he starts doing all this dirty talk 101 to me (which is not hot, by the way), "touch my dick, it's huge. Is your pussy wet?" I was like enough with the skinemax bullshit, lets makeout. So we did. In front of everyone. Yep. It was rough. Dear lord - that was me. I'm that guy.

Then that's over and I go and decide to wrestle with brynn. She's a scrappy gal and had me on the floor in a matter of seconds. Well, face first - hard floor - broken nose. No, not actually broken but when I say blood, I mean probably a gallon of blood came out. Pouring. Like someone just turned on the faucet. You would think that once you start bleeding, it's time to go home. No. I'm not even close to being that rational.

Head over to see my friend and we decide to give each other hickeys. Not make out. Just neck. He's indian so I didn't make much of a mark, but hot damn! I have a full on placemat of a hickey on my neck. I think I tried to make out with him by showering him with compliments, "you are my number two crush in the office". Yeah, number two. I'm a total sweetheart.

And I'm back in the office today. I feel like a racehorse with a broken leg. I'm useless and my time is limited. Someone needs to put me down. A racehorse with a broken leg and swollen nose. Ouch.

holiday gift giving?!

hi. i hate buying unfun presents for people. therefore, i've compiled a list of potential gifts by friends of unibloggal. please support them with your wallets and buckaroos. thanks.

pretty pretty paintings by cielo oreste.

glorious earrings by chiara triska.

sweet wallets by slaughterhead.

bitchen bags by ryan green.

and finally, amazing photo zines by jeremy and claire of day19.

B-U-T

and now for some post lunch distracting and hilarious sweetness courtesy of wonder showzen:

ask me ask me ask me

Here’s an activity to do with friends. Have a contest to see who can come up with the most depressing lyric from The Smiths. It’s remarkably easy as all their lyrics pretty much want to make you take a knife to your throat. A serrated one, so you can slowly saw through your jugular while you contemplate the misery of the world.

But seriously, what’s there to be so sad about, Morrissey? You’re an effing rock star! rejoice! But no, instead:

“Haven't had a dream in a long time
See, the life I've had would make a good man bad
So for once in my life let me get what I want
Lord knows it would be the first time”

Not depressing enough for ya? Try this one on for size:

“Surly you're happy
It should be this way?
I said "No"
And then I shot myself
So, drink, drink, drink”

And my personal favorite:

“I think about life and I think about death
And neither one particularly appeals to me”

Endless fun, I tell you.

What reminded me of Morissey and The Smiths? Two blogs I read regularly: Dooce and my friend’s friend Jim. Which begs the question:
In my life, why do I give valuable time to people who don't care if I live or die?

teen er...elderly beat tuesday

erin generously let me take over her teen beat tuesday post today so that i can share with our loyal readers my love for george takei. george built a name for himself in the mid to late 60s when he stared as helmsman sulu along side captain kirk on the original star trek. i have come to know and love him as the newest recurring guest host on the howard stern show. george takei is the lovable gay former tv star grandpa you never had. he's cute as a button and makes me smile every time i hear his infamous laugh or use the phrase "oh my." the video below is from george's roast of william shatner on comedy central. i could just die from a cute overload when george calls artie lange his "cuddly muffin." i promise you'll love him too.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIE!

The big banana
And karaoke queen
That’s our Juliana
Hilarious and obscene
She'll bring you up
She's never dull
Her kiddish cup
Is always full
Singing 'bout Hannukah
Rapping 'bout Jews
Her entertainment
Is sure to amuse
Today's her birthday
Soon to be a relic
And all she really wants
Is to bone Tom Selleck

Happy B-day Jules. Tons of love from Unibloggal.

What will technology think up next?

Since Erin is in the far away land of Los Angeles today, she asked me to take over this Friday’s dating tip. A decision I’m sure she’ll soon regret.

Today’s dating tip is about visitors. Two kinds of visitors… the out-of-town lover type of visitor. And a girl’s special monthly type of visitor. And how the two should never arrive on the same weekend.

Granted, the timing of one’s cycle is something that is a little beyond our control. Or so I thought…

We have a certain friend that was inspired by Steph’s post and now has all of the Unibloggal’s cycles on his phone. This is actually convenient because I can consult with him to find out the daily status of my reproductive system.

But what I didn’t realize until this week is that not only can the program monitor your cycle, it can also control it. Making sure one’s monthly “visitor” is gone before the out-of-town lover visitor arrives.

erin: wow, really?! i mean, his phone can cease menstruation?
me: Not cease, make it come early.
me: either that or I willed it so with pure mental power
erin: wow
me: a miracle I tell you!
erin: i wish the phone could sterilize me
me: hmmmm, that could possibly be arranged, if placed in the right position in your uterus
erin: haha
for an extended period of time. the phone rays might make it shrivel up
me: true, but when someone called, it would be like a party in your belly!
erin: oh crap
if you accidently put it on that weird rio dejaniero techno ring tone it would suck
me: "what is that noise?" "Oh, that's just my inutero phone. It'll go off in a sec."
erin: so awesome
me: AND, if you were to get knocked up, it would aid in communication with your unborn fetus
dude, this is a brilliant idea!
I'm going to patent this immediately
erin: "hello, please pick up"
me: maybe we can put a blackberry/trio type thing in there too and call it... CompUterus
erin: holy shit
me: Introducing: THE COMPUTERUS (patent pending)
erin: blog that shit

D.I.Y

tonight i'm going on a date with a fine fella and have been compiling some great dating advice from some special pals, both male and female. since erin's tips don't come out til fridays, my favorite so far comes from my sweet manpal who once told me the best thing i can do on a date is take my shirt off myself. his name's larry the iguana. you guys don't know him.

"I think that you're supposed to take your own shirt off during the first makeout session. Sounds like you missed that opportunity, but #2 will suffice. Here's some further guidance:

(Scene: in car, at night, yellow light from lamppost outside casting revealing shadows through steamed windows as a young couple (is 36 still "young?") smear their lips and tongues against each other)
GIRL (pulling back): I want to show you something
GUY (inquisitive): What is it?
GIRL (putting her finger against his lips, slurring slightly): Shhhhhhh (fumbles with buttons on her blouse)
GUY FURROWS EYEBROWS IN A CONCENTRATING AND CURIOUS WAY
GIRL REMOVES SHIRT CLUMSILY, THROWS SHIRT AND BRA INTO BACK SEAT
GIRL: Suck on 'em

See? It's foolproof. Have fun tomorrow night!"

hey erin, shut up!

sorry, i'm going to be out of town for three days, so i'm talking a lot today. i apologize.

i'm a big fan of mcsweeney's lists. are you? this one is hilary-town. and also totally sad and depressing. when is someone going to donkey punch that fool?

Alternate Titles for O.J. Simpson's New Book.
BY JEFF DRAKE, WENDY MOLYNEUX, JOHN ROBERTSON, AND ANN SLICHTER
- - - -
Stab This Book

Stab Your Wife With This Book

Beat Your Wife to Death With This Book

Tuesdays With Stabby

Are You There, God? It's Me, a Multiple Murderer

To Kill a Mockingbird, Wherein the Mockingbird Is Your Ex-Wife and Her Friend, the Waiter

What to Expect When You're Expecting to Stab Someone

A little off the sides

“So, have you been here before?”

“Yes, ow, but I moved recently from San Francisco, ow, so I used to go to a place there.”

“Oh really? And how are you liking New York?”

“New York is, ow, great. Yeah, I’ve been having lots of fun.”

“Do you work in the city?”

“Yeah, I work right up the street, actually, at an ad agency. Ow.”

“That’s great. Now lay on your stomach and hold your butt cheeks apart.”

No time for pleasantries at the bikini waxing place.

the photoshop olympics

it appears as though stephanie is in for a run for her money (i love grandma cliches) when it comes to most masterful photoshop laugh-attacks. one of the joys of being at work is having the handy internet at your fingertips all day. while fingering the internet this morning, a friend sent me a link to this image, which was posted on another friend's flickr page.

personally, i can't stop laughing. visit his page and check out scuba gooding jr. thank you

journasty: your new favorite band

i've been in a little bit of a reading slump lately because i am a huge nerd who can't stop doing crossword puzzles, watching the movie wordplay and blogging for work about the classic design of the ny times daily puzzle. it's rough. however, i'm going on a road trip tomorrow (hello, LA) so i've been saving all of my puzzles up for the drive, that means i've been forced to read again. i'm currently working on chuck klosterman's "sex, drugs, and cocoa puffs* a low culture manifesto." so far it's a great book with musings on the real world and billy joel. between every chapter is some other small little story, strangely in a different font with no real point. the one i read on the bus this a.m. forced me to come and say, "hello, blog!"here's an LOL-able excerpt bit from one of these different font pages. it's a game i very much would like to play. My own commentary is in red.

Ten minutes later, I found it necessary to mention that Journey was rock's version of Dynasty. This prompted a spirited debate we dubbed "Monkees=Monkees." The goal is to figure out which television show is the closest philosophical analogy to a specific rock 'n' roll band, and the criteria is mind-blowingly complex: It's a combination of longevity, era, critical acclaim, commercial success, and--most important--the aesthetic soul of each artistic entity. For example, the Rolling Stones are Gunsmoke. The Strokes are Kiefer Sutherland's 24. Jimi Hendrix was The Twilight Zone. Devo was Fernwood 2-Night (WHAT IS THIS SHOW?) Lynyrd Skynyrd was The Beverly Hillbillies, which makes Molly Hatchet Petticoat Junction. The Black Crowes are That '70s Show. Hall & Oates were (are? and is oates then tom hanks?) Bosom Buddies. U2 is M*A*S*H (both got preachy at the end) (THANK YOU, U2 is the mashiest band ever. and after last friday's game of trivial pursuit, i also know that he wore horns on tour which makes him a drama geek, too.) Dokken was Jason Bateman's short-lived sitcom It's Your Move. Eurythmics were Mork & Mindy (i like this analogy because as a kid, i loved both of these but for the life of me i can't remember why). We even deduced comparisons for solo projects, which can only be made to series that were spawned as spin-offs. The four beatles are as follows: John = Maude. Paul = Frasier (shouldn't he have been Wings? that wasn't a spinoff, huh? although i think i get the analogy here. frasier crane (paul) always felt like he was picking up sam malone (lennon's) sloppy seconds. does that make diane yoko?), George = The Jeffersons, and Ringo = Flo (hahahahha!). David Lee Roth's solo period was Knots Landing. So there's proof: Marijuana makes you smarter.

O'Brilliant

This weekend I was reminded of an old favorite speech. You may remember Conan O'Brien’s Commencement Speech to the Harvard Class of 2000 from the email that was forwarded eight billion times to everyone and their mother about six years ago. But it’s so brilliant, it definitely merits a reread every year or so. Not only is it ingeniously crafted and laugh-out-loud funny, but it also contains some great advice on surviving this journey we call life.

It starts here and only gets better. Be sure to click here and read through to the very end, as the last line is one of my favorite quotes in existence, not to mention my life motto.

"I'd like to thank the Class Marshals for inviting me here today. The last time I was invited to Harvard it cost me $110,000, so you'll forgive me if I'm a bit suspicious. I'd like to announce up front that I have one goal this afternoon: to be half as funny as tomorrow's Commencement Speaker, Moral Philosopher and Economist, Amartya Sen. Must get more laughs than seminal wage/price theoretician.

Students of the Harvard Class of 2000, fifteen years ago I sat where you sit now and I thought exactly what you are now thinking: What's going to happen to me? Will I find my place in the world? Am I really graduating a virgin? I still have 24 hours and my roommate's Mom is hot. I swear she was checking me out.

Being here today is very special for me. I miss this place. I especially miss Harvard Square - it's so unique. Nowhere else in the world will you find a man with a turban wearing a Red Sox jacket and working in a lesbian bookstore. Hey, I'm just glad my dad's working."

total douche pop

last night we turned on the television to see what kind of pop culture shitstorm was being brewed up on the billboard music awards. i came to a few conclusions. they are:
1. middle america likes country music, shitty rap and plastic surgery faces all mixed together in some hybrid genre called billboard music awards.
2. pharell williams can't rap but he's a freakin babe.
3. catherine mcphee is majorly fooooine.
4. fergie is such a fucking douchecicle that i can hardly stand it. in this video she looks like a tacky 13 year old at christmas time between the neck and knees with a weird tan plastic head upon two stilt shoes that she can't walk in. why is she on earth?

teen beat tuesday: the oc, it's back

you may not agree or you may just be living in the dark ages aka 2003, but the oc is back, people. ryan atwood, who i've always had a tumultuous relationship with is handling the loss of his dear marissa like a champ. he's taken up early morning jogs on the beach, he's trying to quit caffeine and in a couple of days he's going to have the show's first nocturnal emission. here's a photo of the new and improved AND DARE I SAY HOT photo of mister chino.

do you see how his helmet hair is gone?
do you see that he's driving a rugged jeep wrangler?
do you see that he's not wearing a hoodie or a visable wifebeater?
all of these things are distracting me from the main reason i never was bonerfied by ryan in the past...his slopey shoulders! see the diagram below.

this is a man-feature which usually makes my eyes hurt, but i have no other choice but to congratulate ryan on a successful trompe l'oiel. i can barely see his downhill slopes because i am captivated by my own reflection in his aviators. just kidding.

start watching, people! i need to discuss this amazing show with all of you. thanks!

Ron Mueck

If you like sculpture, if you appreciate fine art, or if you like pointing and laughing at giant flaccid penises, I highly recommend the new Ron Mueck exhibit at the Brooklyn museum. I've been there twice this week to stand in awe at the frighteningly realistic models.

Mueck's art is part of a movement called "hyper-realism." Each of his sculptures not only look like real people, but they each convey an emotion - fear, isolation, dispair - so convincingly, you see a bit of yourself in every piece. Um, maybe not this piece:



Mueck's expert attention to detail and patience in making these pieces is impeccable - every single hair, every single vein and toenail and goose bump in place. You almost don't want to get to close, worried the subject will grab at you or leap from his chair.

I studied the sculptures for so long that on the subway ride home, I was staring at every other passenger, marveling at how their eyebrows looked so real, but Mueck does a better job. Check it out in Brooklyn if you can, or if you live elsewhere, look for the exhibit to come to a museum near you. It's real cool. (I'll never make it as an art critic, will I?)



P.S.
He also designed a lot of the puppets for my favorite childhood movie, "Labyrinth," which earns him at least 20 cool points.

paxil rose can't hang in sexy town

you may have heard the recent axl rose related shit storm that hit cleveland last week when he called the eagles of death metal (who were invited to open for them on the tour) the "pigeons of shit metal" and kicked them off the tour following their set. in response to this, the band, who in a stroke of genius by contract were paid in advance for all of the shows, responded with the following laughtastic statement:

At first the audience refused to welcome us to the jungle, but by the time we took our final bow, it had become paradise city. Although Axl tried to November rain on our parade, no sweet child o' mine can derail the EODM night train. We say live and let die.

amazing. in addition, buddyhead posted the following video of aaron north interviewing jesse hughes about the debacle. good watching.



only through the eagles of death metal site can you buy their new dvd, "dvd by sexy," directed by liam lynch. speaking of which, here's a great little morsel that laurin passed along to me a few months ago. it's a video memorial to his cat, frankie. if a cat loving man don't set your loins aquiver, you're just not human in my book.

Hit me labia, one more time.

Today at lunch in a intellectual, vegan café in the West Village, I looked up from my kale and potato soup to see what is now probably the world's most famous vulva. The hipster at the table next to me quickly slammed his MacBook shut and giggled with his buddy behind their square-rimmed glasses. Is no one beyond the Britney vagina craze?

I assume you've seen it. Everyone else has.

So, rather than pollute this blog with discussion of Britney's chocha and how it has recently decided to say hello to the world, I've decided instead to link to every other blog in the entire world wide web that has headlined this news-breaking phenomenon. But, dear Gawker and Best Week Ever, please understand that I mock because I care.

Here are some of the leading headlines. You'd think we'd just bombed another country: Britney's Vagina's Reign of Terror Continues. This is not breaking news people! Britney's Vagina Is On A World Tour. I have to admit that this headline actually made me laugh BRITNEY'S LEGS TO SPLIT UP PERMANENTLY.

And the blog that gets the big award for the fullest coverage of Britney's least covered bits: Best Week Ever, in which Britney's Vagina actually addresses readers personally.

friday dating tip: preservation of the girl boner

it's friday! hooray. i just did a google image search for "girl boner" and the second picture was this photo of david beckham. i can't argue with that logic, as he's definitely a hardcore yum driver. at 3am when i woke up to do my daily bout with "oh my god i'm so stressed out" (i only do it in the middle of the night so i can live the rest of my life with my head up my ass), i was thinking about how heterosexual and female to male my dating tips usually are. this made me self conscious. however, i'm busy today, so you're stuck with my breeder knowledge for at least one more week before i become better at living in the shoes of another. literally? do you want to give me your shoes? ok, here we go.

unlike man boners, girl boners are in no way a physical manifestation of blood and flesh (ew). in actuality they are internal things i've referred to in the past as "loin quivers," they are feelings in our guts likely tracing back to our evolutionary (or biblical, whatever) need to have our fertile bread baskets risen by your man yeast. (i'm so gross). when you do something that makes us like you, we'll remember it for a long time. even if we physically hate your guts, you might still leave us with a girl boner.

first of all, there are a few subtle ways in which you can create the girl boner, some of them are:
1. saying dirty things without meaning to, like, "i got a new cell phone, can i have your number so i can reenter you?" wow, see that? "reenter"...we'll remember that shit. if you were worthy the first time.
2. "say my name, say my name". no really, say it. girls fucking love that shit.
3. if you've never kissed a girl who you might like, go for a little affection, but not too much. like a random half hug kind of thing when you're "courting" a girl is good. nothing smothery and gross, but just a little something to tell her, "later i'm going to french your brains out, but not yet."

secondly, there are several very overt ways in which you can annihilate our fragile boners. they are:
1. i know that i stated above that it's possible for our boners for you to last much longer than our actual interest in you, but the opposite is also true. if you drag the process on and on and on, we're going to forget you exist and find another man to ignite our uterine flames.
2. if without REALLY knowing us, you go about suggesting that we change a facet of ourselves which you may not be a fan of, we will definitely hate you and our boner will shrivel. for example, once while on the world's worst date, i had this so called guy ask if i had ever considered keeping my natural hair color. what a laugh! anyone who knows me recognizes the fact that i wouldn't recognize my natural hair color if i saw it. that said, i never saw this "guy" again. (until last saturday when he randomly asked me for a cigarette outside of madrone. i spat upon him. jk)
3. try to regulate your e-personality. we are busy girls, we email and we IM and we text message. some dudes portray themselves as illiterate and as either huge fans or huge anti-fans of punctuation and grammar. figure it out, at least a little bit. also, don't use weird abbreviations/misspellings. it's creepy. (totes is just fine, though)
4. please don't tell us we look like your mom.

weekend to do list and dance tips

Thanks Sparkle Motion for the sweet dance moves! After "thorough" research, I've discoverd that its a bit dead in the Bay Area this weekend. But have no fear fair unibloglets. There are a few glimmers of hope to brighten up your social calender and get your lazy butt off the couch and out in the brisk winter air.

friday

Local eclectic post-punk meets noise music duo Moggs will take center stage at the Hemlock tonight along with Weird Weeds and Ferocious Eagle. If Deerhoof and Unwound had a love child it would play music like this. Check it out.

saturday

Voxtrot are gracing Great American Music Hall tonight. "With one foot in the library and the other on the dancefloor, Voxtrot combine classic 60's pop (think Love and Left Banke) with the heady, subversive sounds of 80's Britain and still come out ahead of their time." Good shit.

For an "Evening of Art, Fashion, Music, and Film" (featuring unibloggal pal and artist extroidinaire Sita Rupe) head over to Club Mezzanine.

sunday

I can't find anything earth shattering so I suggest a movie. Shortbus, Volver or the Science of Sleep should get you started.

put on a happy face

even though its friday, which usually makes me beam from ear to ear, this morning started off on the wrong foot and put me in an unusually bad mood. that is, until i saw this photo on dlisted. i love this photo. i love this couple. i love the finger. thanks heath and michelle for brightening up my day.

for some reason i just love this commercial. for one thing, it's got a catchy tune that includes the words diarrhea (barf) and has a funny looking robot. last night, i was watching this during the most innane hour of television ever aka america's next top model (aka the least improved show on television) when this commercial came on. i was so thankful that it wasn't another day in the life of a cover girl that i made a mental note to share it with all of you. for once i actually remembered my mental note and voila! happy lil friday, bitches.

he'll save children - but not british children

someone anonymously sent me this george washington video that i'm loving not only b/c of the obvious schnauzer cameo, but mostly b/c i had NO idea that george washington invented cocaine. oh, and had dicks growing out of his feet.

THIS HAPPENED A YEAR AGO, ALMOST EXACTLY

okay, alright. everyone take a deep breath. what i'm about to tell you is a true story. yes, a TRUE story. it didn't happen to my sister's cousin's neice. and it didn't happen to my uncle's blood brother's half cousin. it happened to me.

since my last relationship ended up in the dumpster, i decided it was time to see what all the fuss about internet dating was. maybe not for love but maybe to get a free drink and who knows, right? i mean, what if??? gosh, i'm a little girl in a big city and i gots to take me some chances, no? yes.

so i signed up for the onion.com. i have a friend who has gone on a ton of dates from there and is currently in a serious relationship from there as well. granted, i find her boyfriend to be just shy of a desperate and socially awkward teenage girl, but still, she seems happy. so, i signed up. in the profile they ask you questions like which celebrity you most resemble and what one might find in your fridge - you know, stuff that counts and really lets you look deep into what kind of person i am.

after a few days of browsing and getting emails from 40-somethings who couldn't believe what a "cutie" i was and ohmigod, they like sushi too!, i realized i needed to find the awesome dudes who weren't finding me. i did some searches, and then there he was. he looked completely like he'd be one of my friends: messy hair, glasses, slight beer belly, funny profile - he seemed perfect...except for the picture that made him look like bob guiney from the bachelor. fine, nobody's perfect.

so i emailed him and used all my 200 free points that you get for signing up but if you want more have to pay for them. so yeah, i emailed him something very clever, i'm sure. he repsonded right away and was funny and we exchanged a few banterous (word?) emails. before i knew it he was asking me out on a saturday night date. now, once i passed all this by some seasoned internet dating friends, i learned that i had already broken all the rules. rules, you ask? yes, rules.

1. don't email him, let him email you. you can see who has viewed you on these sights and apparently by just viewing people a couple days in a row is your way of batting your laptop's eyes, constant glances across the internet super highway, if you will. 2. never continuously email with someone - just decide to go out and go from there. anyone can look great in gmail format, but it can all go to shit once you see that face standing next to you. 3. this is the most important rule - the most crucial - never EVER make a date for a weekend. you only have one friday and one saturday every weekend and you must save those for a 3rd or 4th date. by no means, put all your eggs in one basket and blow your wad on a saturday with a stranger. start out with a tuesday. if that goes well, maybe see him on a thursday or even a wednesday (hump day!) and then, and only then, if that goes well, do you even consider going out with him on a weekend!

well, i should have spoken to my expert friends before hand, b/c as nice as my date was, he was a gay man with erectile dysfunction. i should have known. on saturday we spoke on the phone and he called me "honey". you know on sex in the city when samantha turns to "the girls" in full on drag queen style for one of her famous one-liners and says something like, "honey, i need dick like a homeless man needs a meal!"? well, that's how he said it. it was uncomfortable.

so i met him out and of course, he didn't really look like his pictures. his beer belly was a lot more than slight and his hair was a little greasy. even after our brief phone call i was still surprised at his gay/staten island accent. but we had so much in common - we both love watching laguna beach, we both hate U2, we both hate misshapes, we both enjoy shopping and have a lot of girl-friends...and the list goes on.

remember when i said you can list which celebrity you most resemble? well, i put down mariah carey and steve harvey. i used to get mariah carey, but i in no way look like a big black man - it's absurd and i've always been told that i have a delightful sense of the absurd. well, homeboy told me that in my pictures i look like a light skinned black woman. when i blankly stared back at him he said, "what? you said you look like mariah carey and steve harvey!"

he also was very confident and told me that not only was he extremely smart, but he was also one of the most charming men i'll ever meet. and he refers to his best guy friends as his "hetero life partners". that's when i started to feel weird. by this point we were several wines and a pitcher of sangria in the hole and had started being affectionate. i kept thinking that maybe i could love a gay man. we did get along really well, i mean why not?

we kissed. gay men are good kissers. but i was convinced that maybe he only acts gay outside of the bedroom and once we were safe inside his boudioure then he'd show off what a lathario he really was. so yes, i went home with him (that's rule #4 apparently). well, lets just say he was no lathario. in fact, homeboy couldn't even get a boner, yet acted like he was burning in passion. it was so weird. seriously. i was dying. dying. honestly. i still am. and i'm starting to feel bad about writing about this. and he had a small penis. i mean, i couldn't find it. oh, i'm getting embarrassed. it felt like he had 3 balls. i'm just saying. oh god. i have to stop. but i can't. shit. he called me baby, which made me want to vomit. "baby, you want some water?" "baby, you okay? are you that tired?" oh god....so painful...

well, the next morning (rule #5 - even if you go home with him, don't stay the night!) he told me how he has a "man-crush" on paul rudd. he admitted to going to see stella just so he could try and sit next to him. needless to say, i got up and faked a phone call from work saying i had to go in on a sunday! i'm not sure why i couldn't just say i had to leave. but i did. he asked to see me again and looked him in the eye and lied my face off, "sure". i felt awful. i still do. how could i have ever been honest to him? "no thanks, you're gay with 3 balls."

monday morning rolled around and i decided that it was time to put it to bed. i let him down easy and said i was still working on getting over an ex. he wasn't an easy one to shake off, but today, wednesday, i think he finally got the hint.

with all that said, my internet dating days are over. i turned off my profile and am hoping that after you read this will decide to set me up with one of your friends the old fashioned way. whadda' you say???

UPDATE:
so, i've never gone out on another internet date, but i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it. and i guess i'd be lying if i said i didn't sign up again, create another profile, e-flirt with a few possible dates and then almost decided it was a good idea until i was haunted by the memory of ol' 3 balls. and i'm getting to that point again when i just might make the jump. at least it was a date, no? and i learned my lesson, albeit the hard way.

but, at the end of the day, as desperate as i may feel, i'm gonna stick to old fashioned drunken makeouts and just live vicariously through those e-harmony commercials where they try very hard to get "real life couples" whose candid banter ("wait, should i be telling this story or do you want to?") is perfectly set to natalie cole's "everlasting love". carole, a middle sister and office manager, and dave, a state farm sales rep and high school wrestling champ, are happy in st. paul, mn. and honestly, i'm happy for them. seriously.

a proclamation from our president

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim November 30, 2006, as National Methamphetamine Awareness Day. I call upon the people of the United States to observe this day with appropriate programs and activities.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this twenty-seventh day of November, in the year of our Lord two thousand six, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-first.
GEORGE W. BUSH

Meanest Man Contest / Languis - Split

For our 2 potential readers who aren't somehow affiliated with sneakmove, check it out:
Our favorite pals of Meanest Man Contest have a new CD out that you can buy here! It's a split album with the fine fellas of Languis. Super great stuff.



You can listen to a sampling, too.

teen beat: a broken heart

i've been working on a special memory lane for the upcoming birthday of one of my best friends. it's lead me to unearth some serious WTFs in the pack rat department. these include letters from as far back as 7th grade. did i say letters? i meant testaments to broken hearted babies. if this isn't teen beat worthy, i don't know what is. the following note is the emotional outpouring of my distraught best friend. i changed some names because the object of her desire isn't named something ubiquitous like brian or chris...and who knows. he might be out there somewhere, still.

Erin -
(WARNING!!!!! This is an emotional letter for me! So, handle with care!)
Help! I have never been so confused. I have been more confused but this time it's bad. I am so stressed out for the first thing. I am so worried about my report that's due Friday and I've only taken notes on a couple things. Second...Ben. Or guys in general. They are so confusing! Ben, oh I'll never get over him with Nicole liking him too! Great, that is just going to make things even harder. I'm sure he likes her. It's only obvious. But, I don't know why i'm worrying. My hearts broken but hey, who gives a care? God. But i don't know why it hurts so bad inside. Now, I'm crying, it's so unfair. I thought "Hey, I really like this guy" and I thought we had something going for awhile. But obviously theres not. Maybe its me, but I tried so hard to make him like me. I am shattered inside, Erin. I don't want to like anyone but him. I say i'm leeting go, but that's a lie. My heart is incomplete. I felt so special when we were together, but now it's a mirage. It looks like its there, but its really not. I wish it were the other way around for me and Ben. See, it's like you can't see it, but it's there. It seemed like he liked me but you couldn't really see it. I believe love is blind! I know everyone has problems but why does it seem like I have so many? I feel like crap, I look like crap, I treat people like crap, I am crap. I want to be pretty, I want to feel good aboyt myself but it its just not there. Another mirage! It's also a mirage for you and Ryan. I hope things work out. I've been so mad lately. I need a guy who treats me good and doesn't kiss and leave. I mean I can't make Ben like me and I respect that. He's entitled to his own choice and he may decide that he never liked me or he may not, but that's his decision. I've been waiting for a long time and I am willing. I like him and wish thingscould be how they were at Christmas vacation. But people change and I guess that's what happened with Ben. It just faded away like your poem said. (I WROTE A POEM?!) Guys lag sometimes and boy do they hurt you emotionally. One little thing could shatter my heart. Like Ben. I totally opened my heart up and it feels like nothing can stitch up my wound. I feel emotionally scarred and I just wish I could tell Ben how wonderful he made me feel and how I wished we could have been happy 2-gether but he has a rep to keep up, of not to be a softie and can't handle a girl's heart. Well I gotta cry to sleep now. Pray for me. Man, I hope things brighten up 4 U & Ryan.
Love always & Forever.

Have they not seen previous seasons?

I understand that they’re young, and hot, and filled to their frosted tips with raging hormones, but MTV's Real World has been on for eighteen seasons. EIGHTEEN (if that doesn’t make you feel old, I don’t know what does). So, by now, even young Jersey girls like Colie, no not “collie,” Colie, should know that hooking up with the cute “I like to make out, it’s my thing” Alex the very first night you live together is a BAD idea. Even though he’s (allegedly) well-endowed. Yes, thanks to the wonders of modern microphones, the entire country now knows that 21-year-old Alex has a giant wiener, at least by Colie’s standards.

This is probably why second hot girl roommate, Jennifer, decided to hook up with Alex the NEXT NIGHT. And I quote, “Before I knew it, we were having sex!” Yes, that happens to me often… making frozen pizza, and oops, your penis is in my vagina… how did that happen? But wait, it gets better, when Colie comes down to check on the pizza, which is now practically on fire like the loins of the Real Worlders, Jennifer and Alex pretend like they weren’t just getting it on in the guest room. One little problem with your plan of betrayal, kiddos – there’s a fucking camera on you at all times! Remember? The audition tape? the mic that’s permanently affixed to your ass? That’s why you’re in Denver in the first place.

I don’t know, maybe the altitude has gone to all of their heads. I could go on about the two girls that made out in the hot tub within 12 hours of arriving in Denver, and the strict black Baptist and gay Baptist that sleep side-by-side, but I think you already get the message I’m trying to send: Best Season Ever of the Best Show on Earth!

Thank you, thank you, oh glorious MTV, you’ve done it again. I highly recommend tuning in on Wednesday at 10pm to see more of the drama unfold.

friday dating tip: "no, duh"

the holidays are a time filled with family, friends, loved ones and out of town guests. today i will bestow a bit of fairly obvious wisdom. it is not advisable to have your mother, siblings and other blood relatives within ear shot if you plan on getting it on. for some reason the taboo factor kicks in and you really want to do IT. "what if someone comes in?" "what if someone can hear us." "what if it was just real quick?" these are things that will likely run through your head as you're trying hard not to pull down your pants and those of your stowed away non-familial guest. i just realized this is probably too much information, so i'll stop. here's my advice: save up for months and pitch in on their hotel room and you can go about your business. if you're in need of some excitement think of someway to get it that doesn't involve the possibility of burning off the retinas of your nearest and dearest.

EDIT: I WOULD JUST LIKE TO INFORM EVERYONE THAT NO ONE WAS CAUGHT IN THE ACT DURING THIS THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY.

UNIGOBBLE

happy almost t-day from your pals at unibloggal!



here are ten things that we are thankful for this year:
1. our five readers
2. pies
3. cute dogs
4. cute boys
5. good butt jeans
6. sweet, sweet vodka
7. good pant shoe conversion
8. not having to get on a plane this weekend
9. kelly's mushroom gravy
10. days off

Thanksgiving Afterparty @ Madrone SATURDAY!

If you're stickin' around the bay for t-day come kick it at madrone on saturday night w / our pals Bomarr and DJ Ray Liotta! Should be good times as usual.

teen beat: in beverly hills

advanced warning: this may be a long and photo-heavy post.

i'm not sure if anyone who reads this (except cristy) is aware that after about 16 years of waiting (or at least since dvds were invented), beverly hills 90210 is finally available on laser disc. just kidding. in addition to the absolute teen beatery of everyone on the show (HAHA!), we all remember such famous episodes as the skeletons in the closet diet pill/date rape fiasco, brenda's breast cancer scare, kelly's mom on coke at the fashion show and more. all of these nuggets are available now for purchase or through rental on netflix. i'm about to begin disk six and i am pleasantly shocked each time someone pops up with a new outfit. first of all, here's my interpretation of an outfit donned by kelly taylor in the pilot:

and a few episodes later:

this is what i call "two hot babes just begging for a yeast infection." i mean, do you see how high their belts go? they don't make jeans that go this high without severely cutting into one's private area. and the absolute rampant use of black spandex! it's glorious. who wouldn't want to eff these two? (and i'm sure many of you males did - in your own minds - upon the release of shannon's stint in playboy).

here is another example of denim gone awry. they all appear to be madly in love with one another, but i just wonder how they can stand it with all of that baby blue denim! and look, donna, the perpetual virgin is absolutely not going to let a member of the opposite sex penetrate her waist region with their hand.

aye carrumba! hottie alert. look at that posture on aaandrea (totally pre-yoga!). look at those witch boots on kelly. and all of that grand canyon style cleavage on donna, not to mention brenda's catchers mit bangs. how did anyone get laid in 1990? i'm dying to know, as i was too young to know first hand. oh, wait...

it looks like we just need to ask uniblogGAL, julie, as she obviously has lots of experience canoodling with dylan mckay!

celebrity slip ups

there is a game called celebrity that the friend family plays upon occasion, namely this passed sunday at the second annual friendsgiving. it's usually when we're drunk, stuffed with food, gathered in a group and looking to create some big chill moments. big chill moments are those that you look upon as frightening because you realize that you're now the age your parents were when they had you, you're old, you're an adult and other related troubles. anyway, back to celebrity. in order to play this game, every participant must enter into a bowl, three celebrities, famous characters, musicians, literary characters etc. for the most part, the gamut is run, from 2pac to dagney talbert. the goal is to get your teammates to guess as many celebrities as you can within one minute. last night's game resulted in a few hilarious moments. they were:

1. celebrity: lou reed. in the first round of play, you're allowed to say anything you want other than the actual name of the person. this resulted in, "first name rhymes with poo." classic.

2. celebrity: michael jordan. in the second round, you use the same celebrities from the first, but you can only use two words to describe it. even if your teammates cannot guess, you're not allowed to deter from those two words. the two words provided for this clue were, "slam dump." do you sense a theme?

3. celebrity: neil patrick harris. in the last round you use the same celebrities from the two previous rounds, but you must act them out using charades. that means for every celebrity one of the gamers will either be making big fat tune in tokyo boobs with their hands (female celebrity) or they will be acting out a large beaver tailed paddle, wagging it back in forth in front of their, in this case, vagina (no boys were playing - this paddle obviously means male celebrity). given the recent announcement that little doogie howser likes boys, the clue giver in this case ended up walking around to her teammates poking them in the butt with her extended index finger.

i wish i had photos. maybe stephanie will photoshop something awesome for you to look at. if not, it's reeeally too bad for you that you missed out on the fun.

chat-a-fuckin-rama!

i love gchat as much as the next uniblogger. i really do. in fact it's gotten me thru many a boring ass day of work. though i've often wondered 'why the hell is there no way to chat with more than one person at once?'. well, today we found a loophole. you CAN chat with more than one person at a time. you just have to be sent a spreadsheet in order for this to occur. thank god our googalicious pal chris is so darn organized that he decided it'd be a rad idea to send one out to a few of us for a dinner party this sunday in order to keep track of what everyone's bringing. we all happened upon the ability to chat within this spreadsheet by accident. and it was amazing. ok... it was mostly just insanely distracting. however, it just shows that this feature will most likely be added to gmail in the near future. goodbye work! hello chatmania. shit.

lil' friday belated dance tip

i forgot yesterday to put together a unibloggal approved "to do list" for this weekend so you will all just have to fend for yourselves. i'll be back in effect next week with a very special turkey day edition.

in the meantime check out this fantastic breakdown of some popular rave dance moves by "matty walker." my favorite parts of his very educational video include the fact that he doesn't feel the need to get off the couch to teach us these combinations and that he insists on mouthing the dance instructions to the camera like his playing a pathetic game of pictionary. the boy is pure genius.

good luck people. i expect to see "big fish, little fish, cardboard box" or "deal the cards" the next time i see you on the dance floor.

i am totally sirius right now

so a couple of weeks ago i bit the bullet and signed up for god's gift to my ears (so much god talk today, erin. jeez! oh, it's cuz i went to sin city last weekend and i have TONS of sinning to make up for)...sirius satellite radio on the interweb. see, i am a die hard howard stern fan who has for the past 11 months since his transition from regular radio ignored his eff bombs and sibian rides. every friday on howie's station, they play repeats from like twenty years ago and that's not super fun to me, so i listen to actual music.

i think i have found the world's perfect radio station. it's called first wave. in the past few minutes, i've heard:

Lightning Seeds: Pure
Violent Femmes: Kiss Off
The Police: When The World Is Running Down
Nik Kershaw: Wouldn't It Be Good (this song rules!!)

and i realized two very interesting facts:
- i still hate U2, even "the old stuff"
- i actually like REM

friday dating tip: rainy weekend style

IMPORTANT EDIT: i just realized the sun just came out (kinda) and that it might not actually rain this weekend, so maybe save this one for another weekend...or the entire months of january thru april.

is anyone feeling the winter yuck feeling due to rain like i am? while i'm stuck at my desk in work clothes, it just makes me wish i was home under the covers. it also takes me back to high school when i'd be stuck inside with no car, no where to go and no one to get freaky with on a friday. here are some tips for creating the ultimate weekend indoors. thank god for adulthood, our own apartments, bigger tvs, dvds and crushes who aren't on the football team.

watch john hughes movies. i just checked out his IMDB page and let me tell you, i had no idea what a prolific writer he is! his resume includes such obvious hits as "sixteen candles," "breakfast club" and "pretty in pink," but also "some kind of wonderful," "planes, trains & automobiles," "uncle buck" and more. who knew!? now boys, we know that you don't care if john bender (judd nelson) and claire is a fat girl's name (molly ringwald) make out after he puts her diamond earring in his ear. however, if you act like you do, you might get laid. which brings me to...

stay in your jammies all day. this way, when you eat the whole thing of macaroni and cheese (and/or brownies) out of the pan, your jeans won't be too tight. i realize that jammies aren't sexy, but they're easy to take off, which is sexy in itself. don't you agree? (disclaimer: it might be a good idea to wait about 30 mins after pan emptying before jammie removal)

find a comfy blanket. see step four from last week's tips. nothing says rainy day like dragging your blankie off your bed and onto the couch along with a couple of pillows. that shit is heaven right there, nah mean?

get the perfect partner. not just anyone is suitable for a day of mushy movies, crappy warm food and for seeing your butt in old navy pj bottoms that you got for christmas your sophomore year of college. you have to find someone who is equally committed to comfort, coziness and who won't pressure you to go outside, for god's sake. this person also must kiss like a champ, like your messy hair and lack of makeup and have a pair of his own jammies. (sorry, this had a slightly feminine tilt.) there is really something to be said for someone who doesn't mind just fucking sitting there all day.

that is, until the mash kicks in...

here's a song to go with your weekend indoors, wishing the rain would go away. thank you to the quarbmeister for making my ears happy with this tune. you can almost hear the raindrops on the window.

Brooklyn Poachers

No need to get nervous, fellow Brooklynites. That is, unless you like to poop off of power lines. This morning I was perusing my local paper, and read an interesting expose on a recent wave of parrot poachers in Brooklyn. Parrots in Brooklyn you say?

The article claims the wild monk parrot population is being decimated by unidentified individuals climbing trees while armed with humongous nets. The lil' squakers are kidnapped for breeding and then sold for a whopping $25. How can I witness this?

ILLEGAL AVIANS!
According to BrooklynParrots.com, the birds escaped into Brooklyn in the late 1960's, when a shipment from South America was accidentally released at JFK. 60,000 birds flew the coop. Lucky me. Now we're neighbors.

Is your curiosity peaked? Then check out the Wild Brooklyn Parrot Safari on Saturday, December 2nd, 2006, at 12 Noon. And wear a hat.

got hoes in every area code??

trouble keepin' track of all of yer bitchez? want to avoid them at certain times of the month if possible? well shiiiiiiiit... now this handy dandy software can be downloaded to your pimp ass cell phone and you can keep track of "if/when she has her menstruation, when the ovulation is/how probable it is that she gets pregnant, and how big the PMS effect currently is. Can handle multiple women ;) "
seriously, whatever douchebag decided to market this to men instead of women as a potentially positive and helpful tool shall be cursed with a period of his (and hopefully not her) own 365 days a year for the rest of time.