At the Chinese New Year Parade

My old phone, the one I woke up and found submerged in a glass of water by my bedside, had a much better camera. This one's, like 1.3 mega pixels.

I kind of want to go buy a decent camera. But I also don't want to turn into one of those people who runs around documenting everything. The only whiteys I saw had huge telephoto lenses and camera cases.

Afterwards, Olivia and I went to Dumpling House. I'm not into dumplings. Anything smooshy and served in a broth generally has me wary.

These were good though. I had pork something or other and a sesame pancake.

Fun with Google Image Search: junior varsity squad

The eagle is a bird of prey. The prey? CHEERLEADERS.

When mom and dad heard about the price of the uniform, they initially balked. They were relieved to learn it would enjoy years of use when Kimmi gets pregnant, drops out, and goes to work slinging cocktails at an Indian casino.


You can bag on cheerleaders all you want, but I LOVE these girls. Tell me they're not adorable. Tell me they're not having fun. Makes you want to sing the school song and host a charity car wash while snorting puffy paint through your megaphone.

These bitches? OPPOSITE. The one in the middle is the reason why I dropped out halfway through high school. Who knows where I could have taken that shit? I could be fucking enormous-wanged NBA players and collecting diamonds for alleged infidelities. At bare minimum, modeling for car shows.


I'll take Flash Gordon Caught in a Glitter Storm Without Appropriate Shelter for the win, John.

Not to get too personal, but I once had a stalker. Even that guy doesn't scare me as much as Lion Head Girl. It's the primary reason Irmo Junior Vocational Tech remains undefeated against all opponents.

At first I was all like, "This is stupid. Cheerleaders don't hang out at the beach. Come ahhhwwwn." Then I noticed the name of the alma mater: SEA KINGS. That fucking OWNS. It's like a street gang from the Fifties. The Sea Kings ruled Brighton Beach and used to get into fisticuffs with the Mastiffs and the Shoobie Boys.

I'll go easy on your girls since you're all of 11, but I will impart one important little bit of advice: black tennies with bare legs will always make you look like domestic help. Trust me. I used to work at Bennigan's during the summer months. Gang up on your coach and whine in that really annoying way teenage girls do until you get better footwear. I believe in you.

UNDERNEATH THIS DIAPER, I AM TOTALLY NUUUUUUUUUDE

my sister did a comic.

"Yeah, that's right. Get some." -- Cat Stevens

Finally, a crush my mother and I can agree on. This picture makes me want to reach through my screen and give him an HJ, even though that zipper is like, 19 inches long.

Fun with Google Image Search: senior portrait

Old Spice High, Class of 1897

Clark Kent: The Early Years, brought to you by Olan Mills

Photo shoot for sanitary napkin commercial? Or school photographer a centimeter away from illegal?

YOU MAKE THE CALL.

Uh...whoa.

Think this one already had a run-in with the photographer a few shots above.

Bro, what's up, bro?

Easy there, Gretchen. That's a horse, not a boyfriend.

Dude, my brother caught the same thing down in Singapore.

Mommy, what's "bitch slap rapping"?

junior year and senior of college i was obsessed with one thing: my biceps.

still pumped from having seen terminator 2 several years previous, i had somehow convinced myself that 4 times weekly gym sessions, embarrassing magazine subscriptions and foul-tasting supplements were the key to developing linda hamilton guns that would take the place of the stork-like linguini appendages i had inherited from my mother.

t2 was more than a movie to me. it was a way of thinking. a lifestyle. one that says it's ok for women to be old. it's ok for them to handle firearms, ride motorcycles, and beat the tar out of somebody.

not that i ever needed an OK, but still. it's always nice to have one. at one point i had linda hamilton pictures in my car, at my workplace, and in my gym locker.

my boyfriend never said anything, but i'm sure he must have found it more than a little odd. those days he spent most of his time trying to avoid me, as any face-to-face contact of longer than 5 minutes would lead to a solicitation for arm wrestling.

I KNOW I CAN TAKE YOU!
JUST ONE MORE TIME!
COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my biceps quest ended when, after a year of work, i happened upon ms. hamilton's workout routine in an old issue of entertainment weekly and discovered: 1. i had made very little progress, and 2. i'd never have the discipline nor the means to ford rivers, eat dry salads, or spend face time with a former israeli commando.

now along comes this new series: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

and grandma's a little worried. i gotta tell you.

to go from this:



to this:



just doesn't spell promising.

you can almost hear the discussion between the producers:

---

producer #1
But I don't get it. The main character isn't the robot.

producer #2
Yes, but the main character is O-L-D.

producer #3
So?

producer #1
We can't have an O-L-D promoting the series. How will we get sponsors?

producer #2
Good point. Let's go with the 20 year old ballet dancer.

producer #3
20? I thought you said she was 19.

producer #1
Get Jim on the horn. See if there's still time to cast a younger sister...

---

i'm being super judgmental though. i know very little about it. maybe it'll be really good.

one thing's for sure: NO SUPERFUCKINGAWESOME HIT VIDEO FEATURING A WHITE SPANDEX BICYCLE SHORTS-WEARING AXL ROSE.

I'd Like to Know Where You Got the Notion

Can anyone who sews help me?

I'm trying to find a cloth-covered wire bent into the shape of a U that sort of folds over and has a u-shaped piece that it fits into so the two of them work like a button to hold a coat together.

my big puffy whorey pimp ebay coat has them and several have fallen off and i'd like to replace them. but i do not know what the fuck they're called. hook & eye? frogs?

i went to joann fabrics but it was no help. probably cause i didn't know what the F i was looking for.

IF YOUR FRIENDS DON'T ACTUALLY ACCUSE YOU

i've been watching infomercials since before i was born.

the name "erin" comes from an actress in a 3 o'clock (as in, in the morning) movie my moms was watching.

i was a shitty pregnancy. always keeping my mom up. kicking and kicking. turning and tossing.

i now present to you "pearl cream" - tell me if this woman isn't a distant relative of barbara wahwah....

Take That, Rewind It Back

Obama got the votes to make ya booty go SNAP!

*I'm aware this is Luda, not Usher. I tried to get a photo of the former with the candidate in question but he was busy applying Turtle Wax to his pectoral muscles and healing sick children with his stomach.

Too bad elections aren't won on looks alone, or I would immediately switch my voting affiliation to the Adorable Casual Black Fonzie Party.


Who are YOU supporting? More importantly, why?

Separated at Birth

Ex-boyfriend from a long time ago's roommate's cat

A young Nick Nolte

decisionmaking

I pay for pornography. I know that's probably weird for you. I'm sorry.

Ever since I got my first laptop and went on a smut hunt and infected my computer with all sorts of horrible, damn near irreversible-unless-you-wipe-the-hard-drive viruses and shit, and THEN had to deal with the humiliation of speaking to a Dell customer service rep in Bangalore for 2 hours trying to get my computer vagina clean (No, I don't know how it got this way. No, I don't remember what site I was on. No, I don't want to send you my browser history.) I've been a little paranoid.

Plus it's dirt cheap. 8 cents a minute. You figure 5 minutes per wackoff, that's 40 cents. 40 cents to access over 5,000 clips that load right, look good, and aren't going to cut me off midway with an advertisement or something sketchy. Nothing kills a boner like searching around for shit and waiting. Why would I want to do that? I live in New York. I have enough inconvenience.

One of thing things I love most about my pay site is that it gets smarter over time. Like Netflix. It recommends things. I think I've totally thrown it for a loop though, because I've watched a few gay dude movies. All my hetero girlfriends are into dude-on-dude porn, I figured I'd give it a whirl.

Know what? Not for me. I like watching guys go all Page and Plant and almost makeout, or actually makeout. But straight on balls to the wall gay dude sex? Eh. S'okay. I'd rather watch the dudes with ladies. HELLO, MY NAME IS ERIN AND I AM BORING. I AM FROM THE MITTEN STATE.

Anyway, because of my brief dalliance into gay cinema, my porn site has inserted a permanent toggle button on my home page.

It says this:

Change to gay.

Isn't that awesome? Like I could just click a button and change myself into a gay person. I'm really thinking about doing it. I want to be a bear. Then I could date this creative director at my agency. He looks like a bear and I have the hugest crush on him. We would be amazing together. I was DEVASTATED when I found out his orientation on MySpace.

Area businesses report a shortage of Crest Whitestrips, Hummer limos, Magnum prophylactics & Paul Mitchell extra-strength sculpting gel

Oh. My. God. Just got this invite in my inbox.

The cast of Entourage hosting an event at the HAWAIIAN TROPIC ZONE????? It's like the Halley's comet of douche supernovas.

I hope K-Fed's free. If not, I've got this one guy who tried to sexually assault me at an MSU frat party in 1996 as backup.

Separated at Birth

Kimchi
Skin Grafts

rashy lingerie

I'm out of drawers. I've been freeballin' in mom jeans for the past 2 weeks. The mom jeans I didn't know were mom jeans when I bought them.

They looked cute in the dressing room then I looked in the bathroom mirror at work and noticed my ass was all puffy in odd places, like I was wearing adult diapers.

Couldn't take it anymore and I'll be a freeze-dried piece of fish jerky if I'm going to do laundry.

Went to Old Navy and picked out some drawers. 5 for $20. Can't beat that. I grab those and a velour hoodie and glance at myself in the mirror on the way to the register.

I notice I have three bright red welts on my face, a raccoon-like mask of blotches spanning my cheeks. I look like an Irish version of the Hamburglar or that Seal guy.

Something about that store - I don't know if it's the cleaning products they use or some chemical they spray on their clothes. This is not the first time it's happened. I have to remember when I'm shopping to not touch my face.

It's kinda fucked up. Can't be healthy. But the upside to all that child labor and carcinogens is this: T-SHIRTS FOR $8! TANK TOPS FOR $1.99.

You know who doesn't shop at Old Navy? Those kids on that TLC show, Kids By The Dozen.

Man I love the Winters family. They take the best parts of being Amish (living simply, shunning modern bullshit) and leave the Jesus and sexism out of it.

They make their own SOAP! They bake bread! Life is one big bake sale and I like to imagine they never have any problems.

I'm going to order one of their dresses then invite some bearded hipster dude over. We'll roll around on straw ticking and muslin sheets and do a little Charles giving Laura Ingalls a spanking role play.

LESBOS!

Separated At Birth

Bill Gates, Microsoft founder

Kim Peek, Rain Man muse/autistic savant

turkey jerky

Yeah, it's been a while. I've been really wrapped up in my job lately.

Tonight was a nice change. I left work early and went to the Bialystoker nursing home on the Lower East Side to make Thanksgiving cards with New York Cares.

Each person has to make 8 cards and then deliver them to/chat with 8 different residents. That's the assignment. NY Cares provides all the supplies and for the first part it's basically craft hour as you sit at a table, cut out paper turkeys, and shoot the shit with other volunteers.

When looked at in comparison to my advertising job, it was the most fulfilling, creative thing I've done in weeks.

I did not have to attend a series of kickoff meetings or map out a schedule of deliverables. I just started making the card. I didn't get in a fight with an information architect over whether the card should be folded lengthwise or horizontal for maximum usability. I didn't have to go through 5 sets of revisions to change the copy from "Happy Thanksgiving" to "A Very Happy Thanksgiving" then "A Very Happy Thanksgiving But Not to People Who Don't Celebrate Thanksgiving" then back to "Happy Thanksgiving" once again. No.

I just wrote exactly what I wanted and the clients were happy. Well, the ones that were awake were happy. Some were sleeping, some were taking baths. One was masturbating and didn't seem to be at all embarrassed by the interruption.

"OH HELLO THERE! I WILL JUST PUT YOUR CARD OVER HERE!HAPPYTHANKSGIVINGTHANKYOUBYE!"

Oh God.Oh God.Oh God.Oh God.Oh God. I have just seen an 80 year old man masturbating.

Until then, my biggest fear had been waking up Alma. I know her from bingo, and she's one mean bitch. Let me tell ya. She doesn't get bingo she will cuss you the fuck out. She doesn't like volunteers and she doesn't like our shitty old cards, either. I knew she'd make fun of my Turkey sticker first round deliverable and yell at me.

I tiptoed in her room like it was the lion's den. She was asleep, despite all the lights blazing and Jeopardy on the TV.

I put the card on the bulletin board next to the one someone made her for Halloween and hightailed it out to see the next resident, a Latino gentleman blasting salsa in his room.

It amazes me how much nursing homes and college dorms are alike. Loud TVs. Loud music. Casual pajama dress code. Communal eating. Card games. Gossip. Sleeping in. Heavy drug use. And it's really expensive to stay there, even though you'd much rather be on your own and kind of don't want to.

Someone call up the Animal House cast and see what they're doing. I've got a great idea for a reunion movie...

turkey, naming conventions, contest

BE ME FOR A DAY!

being a regular makes me uncomfortable. like a pervert. especially when you're in that floaty period between person who comes in there a little too often and the person whose own mother didn't attend but has a cadre of bodega workers weeping and throwing themselves on the casket at his funeral.

there's something about walking in the door, night after night, and asking someone to make something for you that you should be capable of making yourself that just feels imposing.

it's like,

"oh great. here comes the girl who orders a turkey burger, pays, accepts her purchase and politely thanks me. EVERY SINGLE TIME. piping hot cup of christ cocoa, WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER??!"

BE ME FOR A DAY!

i'd say about 4 out of the 5 guys know me. but they all look alike. and I CAN'T GAMBLE. because then i'm a racist. also i might get the wrong order.

and i can't ask them their names, either, because that's mad patronizing. i had an old boss who used to do that. get everyone's name, the minute he spoke to anyone on the phone.

"hello, who's this? desiree? hello desiree. i'd like three calzones..."

DON'T ASK DESIREE HER NAME. JUST ORDER THE GODDAMN CALZONES. dudes used to do that when i worked at bennigan's. go practice your dale carniege elsewhere. this is not the russian tea room. just eat your jalapeno lobster steak poppers, make a cell phone call, and take a giant shit in the men's room. i'll be in the back smoking pot with the dishwashers if you need me. wait. what's your name? arnold? i'll be in the back smoking pot with the dishwashers if you need me, ARNOLD.

BE ME FOR A DAY!

weekender

Some Saturdays I get out of the house early and bum around and do a bunch of shit. Get papers, groceries, walk through the park, see my methamphetamine dealer.

Other Saturdays I lay on the couch, eat a bagel as big as a toilet seat and catch up on my programs.

It's the second kind of Saturday.

One of the shows I'm watching is called Taboo. It's on the National Geographic Channel and is basically

DUDE, C'MERE AND LOOK AT THIS SICK SHIT ON THE TV BOX!

in intellectual packaging.

Today's show is about food and how certain folk in Vietnam eat dogs.

I suppose this is bad, but I don't think I'd have a problem eating dog. Cat either. It doesn't seem that gross.

I'd rather eat a terrier than a big spoonful of mayonnaise.

Sorry, Rover.

Eat It, Lick It, Snort It, F--k It

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OK, I really have a problem with wanting to fuck guys in drag. He thinks he's being all funny, I'm just looking at his ass in those pink velour sweatpants.

How do I cross-reference this with my love of manly men with 8 foot beards who look like lumberjacks - male power archetypes like gangster, executioner, skinhead, thug, and drug dealer?

My brain be all messed up like a plate of hash browns with onions, green peppers, hot sauce, seasoned salt and cheese.

defending the sexy nursemaidfirefightercopwitch

Since when did Halloween go from a holiday of candy and costumes to a nationwide excuse to female-bash and label everyone with XX chromosomes an unconscionable tramp?

Random sampling of the news articles this week:
-Whore-o-ween provides an excuse to suit up like sluts
-Tricks or Treats?
-Have Ghouls Gone A Little Too Wild?
-Skimpy Costumes for Young Girls Called Reflection of Culture

Here's a novel query:

WHY DO WE GIVE A SHIT?

Because they look like skanks! SO?

Because they don't normally dress like skanks! SO? Are you saying you'd prefer them to dress like skanks all the time? Just because someone chooses to dress skanky one day, is she obligated to dress skanky the other 364 days of the year? If I wear black to my grandma's funeral should I be socially ostracized for wearing pastels on Easter?

Because they think they're getting away with it! SO? What exactly are they getting away with? Are they supposed to feel bad? Guilty? Because dressing sexy is on par with kicking puppies, painting swastikas on nun's foreheads and feasting on aborted fetuses? Look at that sexy nurse and sexy cop. Those are BAD PEOPLE! Let's put them in the town square and have them stoned to death, like they do in other countries.

Because they doesn't have the bodies for those costumes! SO? Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? You're no model yourself. What is that, a size 38 waistband? Your complexion's the color of yellowtail. You might want to get out in the sun more.

But getting drunk and going out dressed sexy is dangerous! SO? Oh, shit. I see. You're saying that Halloween is the ONLY time of year people ever indulge in this sort of behavior. YOU'RE TOTALLY RIGHT.

If you want to dress skanky on Halloween, girls, HAVE AT IT.


I'm not really into it, just 'cause I don't think it's a super original way to go. I prefer to torture myself for several months, trying to think of an idea, then give up and go as a zombie.

Here's a thought. Let's write about some of the SUPERFUCKINGAWESOME costume choices MEN come up with, shall we?

TOP 5 SHITTY MALE COSTUMES FOR HALLOWEEN

PIMP Hi, I work in enterprise software sales. I'm a pasty privileged turd of a white male who can't get dates, but this year I'm going as the black male stereotype version of someone who exploits sex workers. Yay for me!

WHITE TRASH I grew up in East Grand Rapids. The closest I ever came to manual labor was a 4 hour shift washing dishes at my aunt's restaurant in Nantucket. I told mom and dad I need to concentrate on my 1 credit elective and got out of working the rest of the summer. I'm dressing up as someone who's socio-economically less fortunate. Why? Because OTHER PEOPLE'S POVERTY IS FUNNY!!!!!!

PIRATE Arrrrggh! I said, Arrrrrrgh! Bro, what do you think of my costume, bro? It's my brother's little sister's shirt. It's tight, but it feels kinda silky. Actually, I kind of like it. The silky. Does that mean I'm gay? Shut up man. I was just messing with you. Queer! What? Dude, I TOLD YOU not to bring up that one time. I was DRUNK, OK? Shhhhhhhhhh. Keep your voice down. Oh, hey Scotty bro-hound! What's up, dude man? Arrrrrgh!!!!!!

AUSTIN POWERS Does my dressing up like a character from an 11 year-old SNL movie make you horny baby?

SUPERHEROS We get to show off our comic book knowledge AND our lumpy cubicle bodies! We spent $100 renting these costumes and took three trains to get to this party, but really we could have saved ourselves the trouble and just jacked off inside each other's mouths back at our 3-bedroom Bushwick share!