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...