Monday, March 31, 2008

Amazing, half of this coulda been mine!

I am useless and don't know how to embed this but check it out. Village voice does "Indie Cribz" featuring Mike House from Team Robespierre. I almost shared this hovel with Mr. House after the Battletorn/Guns Fire Mayhem tour a million years ago. His fridge has crabs! You won't see that on MTV.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

If you've ever wanted to see a bus full of crusties with facial tattoos explode...

DOOMSDAY!! Okay, so I saw it at week ago (and then ate twenty-two 10 cent wings immediately afterwards at Croxley's...I recommend doing those two things in tandem) but I keep forgetting to write about it. Never in my whole life have I ever seen a movie begging for me to blog it more than this one. It was like a beautiful dream.

All I really can say is, BURNING MAN meets MEDIEVAL TIMES.

It's not the color of your skin, it's color of your pants.

HEALTH Perplex NYC's Dance Party Seeking Hipsters

Just the title of that article makes me vaguely horrified to be a part of it. But there I am in all my fuschia Judi Rosen glory.

You know wearing pink jeans really gets a girl in trouble. This morning I was standing on the F platform minding my own business playing Sudoku (fucking crack) when a giant dude in baggy jeans and a sports jersey approached me. Seriously, he was huge, at least 6'3" and well over 220 pounds.

I looked up and he opened his mouth before he figured out what he was going to say. After a couple of false starts (dudes, seriously, decide what line you are going to us BEFORE you approach a chick) he laid out the "I just had to approach you, you're so beautiful" gem we all know and love.

I tried to brush him off nicely saying, "I'm just trying to get to work, I'm really not in the mood to be meeting anyone right now."

He shook his head disappointed in me. "I see how you are. You're racist. You just don't like black people."

Now if I was awesome I would have said, "I'm not racist, I'm just superficial. I have no problem with black people, I just don't like fat people." Well he wasn't fat so much as just giant, dense both physically and mentally.

But since I am only internally a jerk I told him that I wasn't racist, I just feel no obligation to hold a conversation with strange men who approach me. Being a chick in New York City, especially one who wears tight pants (okay skin tight pink jeans) and has tattoos, I'm pretty used to it. I practically have a sign around my neck that says, "ASKING FOR IT"

Anyway, check out the link. It's pretty funny. It's my second time on and I'm wearing the pink pants that make weird dudes bother me constantly and I'm totally not gonna stop wearing them.


And p.s. I am totally not racist. I even went through what we lovingly like to call my brown period. Seriously, there was like an entire year where I didn't kick it with a single white dude. There was a the chubby stoner rock Mexican who actually said "mang", the cokehead islander with the sweet pad and an intense designer pedigree, the dreadlocked black clothing designer aka walking talking Bad Brains reference, and the mystic Iranian who liked to do it to Neo Nazi black metal and wore more chains that I did. See? Race doesn't matter when it comes to getting into my pink pants. Ridiculousness is what really counts.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

I am so entering this next year

Mr Bojangles





Heavy Mettle


If Love Were All

Rising Sun


Monday, March 10, 2008

Tomorrow's a Party

Tomorrow off to San Diego. Yeah...I know. San Diego, I take the crappiest sounding vacations. Let's see, there was Denver in February, Nebraska in January, East Lansing, MI in November...I can pick 'em. But Jake and Ivy are there and fuck it, we're gonna have a scumbag springbreak in Tijuana. Try to break into the underground extreme metal scene although if I did that I may not come back.

See you suckers after the donkey show!

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Wow, that was painful

I have been sick as hell for three days. Left work early on Thursday and ended up passing out for 21 hours. Yeah, 21 fucking hours. Went to bed at 5 pm, woke up a few times to take more meds, and got up at 2 pm the following day. Beat that scumbags. After having exhausted every possibly reality tv option (because my Netflix selections are too classy for my fevered brain, seriously, who am I trying to impress, do I really need to view the entire Cronenberg catalogue?) and entertained myself with numerous texts from my weirdly jetsetting friends (polo club in South Florida? What?) I got so bored I even tried to read Gawker...(I exhausted DListed, TMZ, and Perez Hilton first)

Best texts I received during my haze:

"I hit jim in the face with a bottle on stage. Didnt break"
"Heroin smoothie"
"I am jet setting at the polo club"
"New aids. worse than new coke"

I have no idea what's going on, but I do know that not even Robotussin makes Gawker readable. It's just a bunch of jerks like me talking shit on other jerks like me.

Anyway, continuing with the meaninglessness of this post...this is my brain right now:

Monday, March 3, 2008

The best thing I've seen all day...

Also here is the best quote, "they call my Jon Benet Ramsay because I do a lot of beauty pageants." - Girlicious...yes...fuck...I watched it...once, and that was my reward...yeah lady, it's a super awesome compliment for people to nickname you after a dead child queen who was raped and murdered by her parents...sweet!