|
|
|
| October 31, 2005
Roman Hands, Russian Fingers
I was commenting to John this afternoon that it's a wonderful world we live in--one where you can learn that the new Supreme Court nominee's son lost the high school No. 2 boys' tennis singles slot (6-3, 6-4) three years ago. And how exciting it must be for the seemingly snarky former (?) editor of the Colgate Forum to have his own category on Wonkette (just like Butterstick!).  John seemed to notice something else about the photo, however. "Is Clinton groping her shoulder?" The more things change.... October 27, 2005
The AOL of Loneliness
Mary Cheney is going to work for America Online. I really have nothing to offer on this other than the title of this post, which maybe four people in the world will get. Speaking of Bush's women: Pour one out for Harriet. And I saw Condi the other night at the High Heel Race. Work!  October 25, 2005
They Put the Fawk in Faulkner
 Tomorrow night will be the second installment of Backroads, a "y'allternative queer night in the Nation's Capital." My friend Kenneth is one of the cowpokes behind it. (Please, someone shoot me for saying that. Soon.)I went last time for its debut and it was lots of fun. A bit loud, but definitely lots of fun. Besides, everyone knows gay cowboys are going to be big this fall. If you're in DC tomorrow and looking for a little Marie to even out your Donnie, I suggest you stop by Staccato. At midnight, the Backroads Players will stage their all-male version of Tennessee Williams' classic A Streetcar Named Desire. I believe Kenneth is playing Blanche. It should be stellar.
Guessing Games
Have you seen the "Call You're Senators" campaign on Harriet Miers Blog!!!? Rumor has it that one of the entries is from yours truly. Bet you can't guess which one... October 24, 2005
I Think I Pulled a Muscle Dancing This Weekend
From Thursday's bluestate to last night's Stars/Death Cab show, music was the overriding theme of the weekend. I really wasn't at bluestate long. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to find the one shot of me in the photos. Unlike some people who seem to be the Paris Hilton of 14th Street. Nicole knows what she did. Saturday night, I caught We Are Scientists and Ambulance LTD at the Black Cat thanks to a spare ticket from a lovely gentleman. I really liked We Are Scientists. I also saw the new look for fall: a polo with collar popped covered by a blazer with a popped lapel. If only I'd had my camera. After the show, we headed to the return of Blowoff. Fun as always. Shriek-inducing run to the dancefloor moment of the night: a surprise song from Morningwood. <aside> I am here today to sing the gospel of Morningwood. They rock. I really love them right now. They are wearing a hole in my iPod. When I first saw the video for Jetsetter on Subterranean (hosted by future ex-husband Jim Shearer) this summer, I thought it was very funny. I especially liked the part where lead singer Chantal Claret pops off her top and gets dragged to a prison full of choreographed goodness. I liked them, but didn't do any more digging until recently. Morningwood truly is "sexy music for sexy people." It's perfect for dancing around the room in your underwear. Or out of it. You can learn more about Morningwood at your local library. Or on their official site. Or on their mysocalledlifespace page. </aside> Last night I saw Stars and Death Cab for Cutie. Death Cab has now officially surpassed Madonna, the Scissor Sisters, Ben Folds, Mary Prankster, Too Much Joy, and the Beastie Boys to become the band I've seen most live. If you haven't already checked out Stars' Set Yourself on Fire, you should. It's the perfect dreamy soundtrack to your life. Someone needs to make them a movie like Zach Braff did for the Shins. As for DCFC, this was easily the best show I've seen from them. They had fun. The crowd was into it. I wholeheartedly recommend you tune into NPR for tonight's show live from the 9:30 Club. It's what Seth Cohen would want you to do. October 19, 2005
Metro Discovers Sniglets
I read in the express this morning about the new Metro ad campaign featuring made-up words like doorker (a person who blocks the subway doors making it hard for others to get on and off the train) and conseaterate (being thoughtful toward those who are in need of a seat on the train or bus). I wish they'd consulted me. I could have told them about my personal favorite: peeternity - the excruciatingly long amount of time one must wait with a full bladder from quiz night at Fado for a green line train to the Heights In completely unrelated news, I've been called a "cattier homosexual." Looks like my work here is done. October 17, 2005
October 12, 2005
Pluma Puma Party
I thought last night was going to be a quiet one. Then trouble texts me and the next thing I know I'm at the Puma Store in Georgetown. It seems there was some Puma/Blender/Sparks/[insert edgy hipster product here] promotional thing he'd heard about from our mutual friend.  The Redwalls played. I drooled over shoes. Sparks (Light) were drunk. I got to hang out with an artist who told me about a scandalous City Paper article that had me wondering just what I'd do for a Nano. After grabbing our bags of swag (and some leftover Sparks Light), we closed the night with a trip to Wonderland. All in all, it was a wonderful night. Too bad the paparazzi were there to fuck things up. I totally feel for Lindsay now.
That's Not Comcastic
For some reason, Comcast decided to change the channel lineup this weekend. Now, Channel 37 is Fox News instead of MTV. My auto pilot with the remote control needs to be retrained, but the change has led to some valuable lessons about the two networks. On Laguna Beach, spoiled bitches LC and Kristin fight over a dimwit. On Fox News, Hannity and Colmes are exactly the same only without highlights. Gideon Yago is totally adorkable. Sheppard Smith is completely fugly. On MTV's Made, kids get surprised by a coach who transforms them. Greta Van Susteren has had plastic surgery that transformed her to always look surprised. MTV had a show called Jackass. Geraldo Rivera is a jackass. The biggest difference between the two networks really comes down to this: Fox News plays more videos. October 06, 2005
Fashion Rocks!
When I saw the following photo of Harriet Miers (Mike should be proud that I went to the third item in this post to make sure I got the spelling write)...  ...I was taken back to the carefree days of March 2003 when we first spotted Pentagon spokesperson Tori Clarke in this little number...  If only I were a drag queen.
TomKat Breeds
Word on the street is that it will be "L. Ron" if it's a boy, "L. Rhonda" if it's a girl, and "Butterstick" if it's a desperate cry for attention. October 05, 2005
Our Winning Season
You know the end of the movie you always wanted to star in? The one with the scene where, with two seconds on the clock, you take the shot from the other end of the court, and everyone watches the slow-motion arc of the ball until it glides in the basket--nothing but net--and the bleachers empty as the entire school rushes to hoist you in the air? You get the girl/boy. Your nemesis storms out, reputation ruined. You're passed around the crowd and triumphantly pump your fist in the air for the freeze-frame where the credits roll to the power chords of a hair metal band long forgotten. I once lived the geekier version of that cliche. My middle school once took part in a tournament sponsored by Eleanor Roosevelt High School, a science and tech magnet school in the county. It was a "junior" version of the local high school quiz show, It's Academic. I told you it was geekier. After a long day with rounds and rounds of questions, my team had made it to the finals. The competition was tough. We were neck and neck throughout the match. It ended in a tie-breaker. I buzzed in just four words into the question. Of course I knew the answer. It had come up in a game of Trivial Pursuit a few days earlier. For one brief moment, I was the hero of my team. I'd brought honor to our school. And I won a trophy. One I still have to this day (and that I sometimes point to when Glenn questions my knowledge of some obscure fact).  So, here's a fun game for a Wednesday afternoon. The first person to e-mail me the correct answer wins a prize. As an added bonus, the first person who answers correctly in the Columbia Heights/Adams Morgan/U Street area can have coupons for free pizza at Papa John's. Be forewarned, though, that these coupons came from a nasty letter sent to corporate headquarters saying I will never eat their pizza again. As such, there are no guarantees against spit (or worse) in your food. The four words uttered before my thumb went a pressin' on the buzzer were: "What Joseph Heller novel...." p.s. If you use google you're only cheating yourself. Addendum: What a friend we have in Jerry, whose quick wit must only be matched by his quick emailing. He was followed closely by a number of others. You people are smart! Seriously, though, does anyone want free pizza in CoHi? October 03, 2005
Did he just say "Exodus Ministries" for real?
After an early late night at Taint (p.s. where do the cute indie gayboys come from? I don't ever see them and then I see them all at once), I was slow this morning to wake. I'm slow every morning to wake, though. Waking to Bush's announcement made this morning even more painful. Not because I hate his choice already (which I totally do) but because hearing him speak is torturous. I think his speechwriters stopped trying. It was way boring. Spice it up, Dubs. In his butchered reading of Harriet Miers's laundry list of activities, my ears perked up when he said she'd been involved in "Exodus Ministries." It's since come out that it wasn't the evil one that sent my blood boiling. At first I thought maybe I'd misheard his poor pronunciation of Texas. If anyone could make Texas sound like Exodus, it's him. As someone once known by most people as Grover, I have first-hand knowledge that frat boys have a habit of renaming things, and Dubya is no exception. He's not Mike Brown, he's "Brownie." He's not Karl Rove, he's "Turd Blossom." It's not homoerotic s&m play, it's "hazing." I honestly spent a good portion of the morning wondering what Bush's nickname for her is. I've settled on Mai-Tai. And I'd like to thank Ben for his early morning commentary: "I do not approve of Harriet Miers ...because she is ugmo." Sometimes when he and I chat, it's like a shallow McLaughlin Group. |
Sister Bernadette's Barking Dog: The Quirky History and Lost Art of Diagramming Sentences - Kitty Burns Florey  Sublimation Point - Jason Schneiderman 
|
||||
 
|
