I WANT YOUR SEX!

Once again, George Michael has found himself in a wee bit of trouble.
"News of the World investigators caught the singer red-handed and red-faced as he emerged from the bushes after cavorting with a pot-bellied, 58-year-old, jobless van driver." Mr. Michael was supposed to go on a 50 concert sold out tour, but, as we all know, guilty feet have got no rhythm. Keep your dick in your pants, George. At least in public places with super super grody dudes.

dating time du jour

i was going to try and count these, so you could create some kind of weekly calendar that you could tear the pages off to reveal a new piece of tippage each week, but you're not that crafty and i'm tired. just got off another airplane. that brings me to this week's tip, which actually might be more of a nugget of common sense that you can use to avoid having me punch you in the face.

tip: when traveling, be it on MUNI, BART, air BART, an airplane, on a rental car shuttle bus, in line for a rental car, or really, anywhere...if i don't know you, DON'T TALK TO ME. see, my mom taught me not to talk to strangers (unless i'm in a bar...airport bars don't count, for those, see above for the no talking rule) and i take that seriously. i don't want to give you advice on whether or not your aqua snakeskin versace belt is too gay for america, i don't care that you recently moved to washington after 40 years in LA but are back for a weekend reunion with a lost love (dummy), and yes, your kid screaming about wanting a cookie is as annoying as the other things i just mentioned.

oh, the dating part. quit staring at girls boobs and talking to them when they're reading a book. if they wanted you to talk to them, you'd know.

(i'm grumpy and tired, sorry)

teen beat tuesday...

oh hello. did you miss me? special thanks to gary t.j. for taking over in my absense. he did such a great job that i wanted to expand on his "internet gf/bf" topic for this week's tean beatage. see that guy over there in the photo to the left of these words? that's pharrell williams and today he added me as his myspace friend. i gladly accepted. i'm hoping he will engage me in some really awesome weblogging or video diarying.

just kidding, guys and gals. but really, holy crappers...my eyes! i'm sure that many females reading this here morsel of weekly delight shares with me a deep rooted love for (a) the sound of skateboard wheels. when you hear them from far away, your loins perk and your head wanders in anticipation of a glimpse of someone you would have peed your pants over in 10th grade (i'm pretty sure pharrell knows how to ride a skate board) (b) boys in baggy pants who can pull off funny jewelry (c) boys who like shoes as much as we do (d) pharrell williams, in general.

i'm tired and jet lagged and even when i'm not, i don't really do so well at forming cohesive thoughts or ideas, however, i like him. he's cute. one time i watched the Mtv Diary (you think you know, but...) and it was really really good. the best part was, i was on a jet blue airplane watching it and i don't think the sound was working, but it was still the best 30 minutes of tv i have seen in a long time.

holla?

NO SALSA ON THE LEATHER...

...keep it on the chips.

Klepto Kitty!

Fierce fighting rages deeper into Lebanon, Hussein is hospitalized, Gary Tijuana predicts that the world is ending and Willy the cat is caught stealing gardening gloves from residents of Pelham, NY.
And that, my friends, is the news for today.

Skills

One of the beautiful things about living in a world with so many different kinds of people is that everyone has their own unique skill, or in some cases multiple skills that they can perform simultaneously. Each individual is free to use his/her skills(s) to make his/her life more rewarding and perhaps better the world around him/her.

Take me, for example. I like to consider myself to be skilled at writing. That’s why I write for a living as well as for pleasure, bringing joy into the lives of readers like you.

I’m also skilled at checking email (frequently and during work hours). That’s why, when my pal Nate-Dawg forwarded me this entertaining video clip, I was able to open it, watch it, and gape in awe at this woman’s unique skills.



I have to admit, I’m a little jealous. In my nearly three decades on this planet, I never acquired the impressive and useful skill of pouring a perfect pint whilst rotating myself at high speeds on an upside-down bar stool. Blame it on bad parenting? The public school system? Why was I never taught this skill?

I’m trying not to feel too bad about it. Maybe she’s a crappy writer.

Stooperstars

My dear dear pals in New York are having a house warming party, so they asked me to whip up a lil' invite for them. I came up with the above. It was vetoed. Audrey, I'm not saying that you look like James Brown. I'm just saying, that you're always reeeeally sweaty like James Brown. All I know is that i would definitiely wanna go to a party that had a robot serving beer and alpacas playing the kazoo, with background music by my best pals with 3 of my favorites musicians' heads attached to their bodies.
Miss you suckas.

Teen BEAT TUESDAY, MOFOs!!!!

What is UP!!! I'm Erin's guest blogger today and I'm gonna just jump right in and get this started.

Let me introduce my new girlfriend. Her name is lonelygirl15 and she's 16 and homeschooled. She has a video diary on Youtube that her friend Daniel helped her set up. Her parents are very strict but YAY! they let her go hiking with Daniel!!! But then trouble struck--the 69,000 people that watched the hike vid left comments that he probably likes her. Sunday night, after much anticipation, she posted the latest in this dramatic saga. The following day it had already been viewed 150k times. Here we go:



The most phenomenal part of Youtube is how it lets everyone be a star, posting their own video responses. Support, advice, salutations, or even tinfoil-headed analyses are there for every single lonelyguyorgirl. I'm working on my very own!

Finally, I know a few friends who are very upset they didn't make this wonderful video montage of Andy Lawrence...

garden state part duex

seriously people. garden state was cute and all but it was far from groundbreaking. do we really need to recreate the script again but this time...deep breath...target it to the "thirty somethings?!?" the soundtrack ain't that different either. just more sensative, whiny indie rock that you can get laid to.

i for one do not need to be reminded that gettin older sucks. but who the hell am i anyway? i doubt i'm alone feeling just sliiighty sick of zach braff and his "crossroad of life" love stories. he simply doesn't do it for me. in this destined-to-be fall blockbuster the plot unfolds as "anxieties threaten the future of a domesticated couple." man, those must be some crazy anxieties. ah silly 30-year olds. the one, and possible only bonus to this film is rachel bilson, aka summer roberts from the show you love or love to hate, the oc. also, notice his "domesticated" flame in the movie is none other than jacinda from the real world london. i guess reality tv can get you somewhere. who knew? certainly not him, or her, but possibly this guy if only for his hit song (see below) and his 2004 run-in with johnny law. you get the picture.

i'll see this shit though.

David Broom - Come on Be My Baby Tonight

Drill Squad does it all.

This weekend I realized that just because my digital camera broke, it doesn’t mean that the Drill Squad adventures have to end. The happy foursome went all kinds of fun places in recently, like the moon. Watch out for the Apollo, Drill Squad!



Then they went to Sesame Street to see our dear friend, Margaret Cho.


Then they traveled to 1924.

observations from the o.c.

for the past few days i've been down in laguna soaking in some sunshine, enjoying the warm ocean, and unfortunately observing what seems to be a serious battle for first place in a ruthless "worst guy ever" competition. while the weather and scenery were amazing, the potential company of most of my fellow beachgoers was less than desirable. after 4 days of judging what seemed to be a rugged contest amonst the locals to see who can be the most douchebaggiest, heather and i both agreed that this fellow shall be deemed "worst guy ever" for the summer of 2006. congratulations sir, may your highlights, painful tan and air guitar serve you, and your fellow o.c.ers well.

(please note that a still pic of this dude really does not do him justice. there's just no way to capture his underbitelicious airguitar and foot tap other than a video which we tried three times to get and failed. his wife started looking at us a lil' funny, so we stopped being jerks for the rest of the day. oh, and i apologize if this man is anyone who reads this blogs relative. however, if he is, he told me to ask you for a new limp bizkit album for xmas.)

Friday Dating Tip

(NOTE: while Erin is overseas, Gary T will be guesting for her)

First date no-no: Don't take a girl to dinner, start crying (I'm talking literal tears; whining would be very lame too) and then ask if you can finish the food she probably just lost her appetite for. You almost surely will NOT get a second date!

Bonus Tip: Don't wait to ask a girl out so you can guest write blog entries at 10pm. And if you do, don't tell the girl that's why you're late. Just lie about something like a motorcycle accident. If she asks any questions, say "I don't know what happened but the paramedic said I saved the dude's life..." Then quickly change the subject.

Follow up

Want to know the results of that sopping wet interview? The one I trudged in the rain to get to? The one that left me with giant water spots on my tits and ass? The one through which droplets from my hair dripped down my neck and pooled in the back of my shirt???

The Creative Director called today. He wants me to leave my current job and start at his company immediately. In return, he offered me $50/day above what I'm presently making.

So my interview advice for all you folks out there currently looking for a new job. Be relaxed. Be honest. And be wet.

Very, very wet.

True Story

The rain in Manhattan yesterday was unlike anything I had seen before. It was a torrential, pounding, merciless, violent downpour. And it happened to occur as I was walking to a job interview. And I happened to have forgotten to bring an umbrella that day. Not that it would have mattered anyhow, the rain came from all sides. It was like the Atlantic ocean had been transported to 47th street. The street I had to walk down four blocks to get to my interview.

I tried to wait it out under an awning. I tried to catch a cab. I tried to buy an umbrella. But I was already running late. There comes a point when you’re so saturated with water, you pretty much can’t get any wetter, so you just say “fuck it” and march across the flood, ignoring the lightening and thunder overhead. Turns out that you can in fact get wetter, and I did. I got really, ridiculously, comically wet. I was soaked.

The doorman looked shocked as I swam into the first floor atrium of 466 Lexington. The receptionist handed me a stack of paper towels. If only he had a blow dryer and a clothes dryer behind his desk, he might have been helpful.

Luckily, my roommate, Cate, happens to work in the same building where my interview was. I opted to be another 10 minutes late for my interview and head to her office first to dry off. I had gone shopping that day at lunch, so I had a dry shirt to change into. And, this is the test of true friendship, Cate gave me the skirt she was wearing to put on for my interview. THAT is a good friend.

With dry clothes on, I walked confidently into my interview 30 minutes late. They understood, and were impressed I made it there at all. As I sat down to be interviewed, relieved to be out of the rain, I realized that I had not changed out of my wet under-things. The rainwater from my bra was quickly seeping through my new shirt, leaving giant lactating marks. And when I stood up, I noticed that my underwear had soaked through the back of Cate’s skirt, leaving what looked like a pee-stain on my ass and a puddle on the chair. I started to wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to show up in my wet clothes than look like I wet myself on the Creative Director’s chair.

I had no choice but to just say out loud what I knew he was thinking. “Look, I’m not lactating and I didn’t pee in your chair. I’m wearing my friend’s clothes and my own wet underwear. Sorry. It’s really pouring outside.”

He appreciated my boldness and honesty. I think I’ll get the job.

rockstar: supernova

are you guys watching this show? it's priceless. tommy lee sexually harasses every female, the dude from metallica has the most embarrassing head bang face in the world (not to mention a mean case of static cling on his head), dave navaro is literally a hot topic midget (little person) and watching frat boys sing the killers in growly voices is my favorite thing ever. and shirts are apparently optional for all of the men on the show. i also have to wonder how gilby clark gets his hair so shiny! and where he's been all my life, he's like jack white's dad and i don't mind a bit.

(am i fired?)

moment of silence

whether you were introduced to them in college by every retarded freshman who LOVED to talk about how rad it is to get high and listen to the wall while watching the wizard of oz on mute or you're just a hippie, stoner, prog, rock lover like me, today is a sad day for pink floyd fans.

syd barrett, 60, who suffered from an lsd-induced breakdown while at the peak of his career in the sixties, died last Friday.

a recluse for the past few decades, barrett was a founding member of pink floyd and a gifted musician. he was famous for his innovative guitar playing, experimenting with feedback and distortion and using props such as a zippo lighter to get a unique sound from his fender esquire.

rest in peace little buddy.

teen beat tuesday: triple threat

hey folks. i'm pretty much dead meat after watching this. it features three things that make me feel that it's ok to be a 14 yr old fan dork forever. they are:

1. just to get this one out of the way, because you already know about it: mark lanegan's voice. old news. next...

2. dave grohl on drums. KILL ME NOW. whatever. i think it's the second foo fighters record that sold me on it. i don't really care about the songs, or him singing, or even him in nirvana, really. (it was all about pat smear there!) and even though i like that little leg bounce thing he does when he's playing guitar, it's all about the drums for davey.

3. JOSH HOMME!!! holy crap. the hottest red head on the planet. if you know me at all, you know how i feel about a beefy pair of arms holding a guitar. he's also from the inland empire and isn't a d-bag, which is a work of magic. i like magic.

when i listen to this band, with any of its line ups, it makes me want to over turn my desk and stage dive off the filing cabinet. and watch it again because they're all teen beaterific. (also, the fact that this took place at the troubador, my single favorite place in los angeles, almost makes my brain explode. too much awesome for one tiny room.)

next week, i will be on assignment in italy doing research with the italian soccer team, so i'll have a guest blogger. stay tuned.

Body Part of the Week III

Just want you to know that I didn't forget my weekly promise to post a mysterious body part every Monday. It's just that last week was a holiday. And this week, my digital camera broke.

But I have a body part right here, that I was going to take a picture of and put up online. Now the real mystery is at hand. What was it going to be....?


Okay fine I'll tell you. It was my left nipple. Bummer my camera broke.

Centro-matic

Might as well make this a musical monday for unibloggal. A few days back I found out that one of the bands I adore most is making a trip out to ol' San Francisco.
I feel overwhelmed with the task of explaining how awesomely wonderful Centro-matic, their side project South San Gabriel, and front man Will Johnson's solo efforts truly are. Do some exploring of your own and then come check em out in September at The Bottom of the Hill.

a couple to get you started:
The Dark of Garage
Triggers and Trash Heaps

Soundtrack to our lives

Its monday and its my first post on this fine blog. As a music junkie I often find myself pairing songs to different moments in my life. After a weekend of too much drinking, not enough dancing and insulting pick up lines I'm compelled to cleanse myself with a song that helps "wash that weekend right out of my hair."

In the Morning - Razorlight

World Cuppage

The day is upon us. The special day that arrives once every four years when Americans get to pretend that they actually give a shit about soccer. When we get to pretend we give a shit about Europe. When logic like “My mom’s paternal grandfather was French” and “My last name sounds like it could be Italian” and “I prefer lasagna to ratatouille” deems you a winner or a loser.

But who am I to judge? I spent the day in a hot, crowded bar with everyone else. Staring at the TV screen and discussing penalty kicks and red cards over a pint of Stella, like I actually knew those terms existed before last week.

And for some strange reason, I’m happy that Italy won. Why? Because the Italian players are cuter, of course. Hooray for soccer.

friday afternoon dating tip

time for another round:

tip #2: boys, anytime you have a girl around who you'd like to see in her unmentionables, play anything involving mark lanegan's voice.

Bearded Dog Pic(s) of the Week!

I have a feeling that this movie would have been much more enjoyable had it been starring a cast of wonderfully bearded dogs instead of Vin Diesel and that handsome talking mannequin, Paul What'shisface.

(Unfortunately, it just came to my attention that "The Fast and the Furriest" name is already in use. For a bear porn. Seen this one, Auds? Grrrrrrrrrrrr)

Drill Squad does Prospect Park

Today, the four friends rode their bike to Prospect Park. No visit to Prospect Park is complete without stopping to feed the ducks with the Orthodox Jews. Aud-Ballz and Stef-Lez sang one of their hit songs. The Jews were horrified and ran screaming. More ducks for the Drill Squad!


















(This may be the last DS picture for a while, as my digital camera finally broke. Boo.)

teen beat tuesday (or wednesday)

please pardon my tardiness, but as you're likely aware, yesterday was america's birthday and like you, i was celebrating. without further adeiu:

ladies and gentleman, scott speedman! i am offering up this morsel of hot dogginess because people like to eat hot dogs on the 4th of july and also because i watched a crap load of felicity this weekend. if you've never accepted felicity and her gang into your television family, you should do as i did and netflix all four seasons just as soon as you can. poor felicity could never decide between ben covington (scott speedman) and noel crane (some annoying famous chick's ex-husband whose real name i can't remember). i don't want to ruin the end of senior year (4th season) for you, but clearly ben/scott here is the logical choice for dear felicity. he's whispery and complicated and sometimes punches people while brooding around looking all hot and mildly disheveled. he also plays basketball (without being a BSG) and likes messed up girls as much as any hunky and slightly unavailable guy. oh and he had an affair with a married woman and once got a girl prego in high school, so he has lots to talk about when dates get boring. the only problem is, his most recent career eandeavors (underworld and xXx part 2) are a little iffy, so stick with felicity please.

HAPPY 4TH!!!