Friday, June 8, 2007
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Separated at Birth
Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
11:57 PM
4
comments
YOUR STUPID
online dater dude sends me a message. he has this at the end of his profile:
Significant misspellings and unintentionally crappy grammar may demote you from "I'd date her" to "I'd do her." Just sayin'.
dude, i feel you on the spelling and grammar.
but implying that 1. you'd fuck a stupid person, 2. you'd disingenuously fuck a stupid person and then treat them like shit after MAKES YOU A TOTAL COCKHOLE.
you probably have copious shoulder hair. i can tell by the way your 5 o'clock shadow looks in that photo.
Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
4:10 PM
2
comments
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
tuesday tally (it's wed but i like alliteration)
+ I have money to shop.
- I hate all the clothes in the stores now.
+ Thanks to running + general ennui, I'm able to pour my ass into a size 4.
- There's no way to show it off, since all the dresses this season are empire/trapeze/babydoll and make you look like a pregnant bohemian doily.
+ I am going to be quoted in Cocktail Weekly.
- I have no idea what this publication is or what it's about.
Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
10:53 AM
9
comments
Monday, June 4, 2007
Has Anyone Noticed?
That we have a black guy and a woman running for president? Not that either one will win. Too many redneck shitholes in this country. But I just realized. I have a lot more time to think about this kind of stuff now that Paris Hilton is off the streets and safely incarcerated.
Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
2:43 PM
4
comments
Sunday, June 3, 2007
34 down. folded food. 7 letters. not calzone.
today was the total opposite of yesterday. left the house at 10:30, ran all over the east/west village being all productive. actively solicited people for social interactions rather than avoided phone calls.
went shopping. as usual, bought way more cheap costume jewelry than i did clothes. some women spend $400 on a chanel bag. "but i'll have it forever." and they probably will.
i spend that same $400 on plastic & faux silver/faux gold earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and so forth that fall apart after three or four wearings.
some would call this a poor purchasing decision but i disagree. it takes me approximately 3-4 years to spend that amount on bamboo round-the-way-girl earrings and noisy plastic bracelets. the hooker with the chanel bag only gets her purchasing high once. ONCE.
i do worry about the legacy i'm passing on to my children though. the other woman can be like "here honey, here's this bag." and the daughter's "thank you, mother, for this beautiful and timeless accessory."
i'm all "yea, sorry, taylor madison skylar phoebe rosepetal. i would give you these hoops i had that said SEXY TAURUS and 400 some-odd plastic jelly bracelets, but they're in a landfill seagull's stomach. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WISH YOU HAD A DIFFERENT MOTHER?"
here's the thing i want:
as in
New Money is different than money money. I have money money. I don't particularly need money money.
I want NEW MONEY. New freelance jobs. Articles in publications I haven't worked with before or that have rejected me so many times it's become a comical Horatio Alger story.
I need to do more pitches.
I have to go change my Crest Whitestrips.
Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
8:37 PM
6
comments
Saturday, June 2, 2007
piece of shit saturday
it's beautiful. i need to leave the apartment. NEED TO WON'T. until tonight. i ordered ATL on on-demand. it wasn't too bad, actually. i have very low standards when it comes to movies. my 'this is going to be stupid' filter is completely lacking, especially when it comes to movies starring rap artists.
atl has all this rollerskating. people rollerskate in uniformed teams reminiscent of The Warriors. they keep alluding to this big skating competition that never actually happens. i'm sure it got cut out post-production but it seems like a pretty big boo boo. couldn't they have included one short scene? and a cameo by Deney Terrio? i know dance fever wasn't really about roller skating. i just like deney terrio.

i'm working on a movie. there is no part for a deney terrio. i would like to get tip harris though. i would casting couch, chair, ottoman, davenport, bureau, and chifforobe the fuck out of that young gentleman. he has such a cute face. all pinchy and grouchy. you want to kiss him on the nose and give up the jane fonda just to see him smile. he's the baby gerald of the dirty souf.

Posted by
Erin Bradley
at
5:16 PM
10
comments



