Thursday, November 27, 2008

Today I am thankful for...


Thanks Dad!

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Some sicker than others.

Are you watching Celebrity Rehab Season 2?! Dr. Drew, who contrary to popular belief is only an M.D.--he is NOT a psychiatrist...kind of weird, right?? Anyway, the doctor (in this case, an internist) is back for a new season and a whole new crop of 'celebs'. Including, none of than very likely the most insane human being in the world, Mr. Gary Busey. You may remember him from his memorable appearance on Season whatever of Celebrity Fat Club, no, Fit Club. Well, now you most definitely will not forget about him or his BUSEYISMS again anytime soon.

P.S. Feel free to add your own!!

JK! Rowling! Jeff Conway's no stranger to Celeb 'hab. And look--he and his wife (slash running bud) Vikki submitted some home footage (entitled "Violence Is an Answer"). Awww. If I had any money, I'd put it on these lovebirds being 2gether 4ever.

Friday, November 14, 2008


World's Funniest Email

This was forwarded to me today, however I do not know either of the parties involved. This guy's girlfriend cheated on him and she wrote him an email to apologize. And he responded. Enjoy.

It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird,the world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened. I am so sorry.

Dear Elizabeth,
Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under 'L' for 'Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about'. You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is 'a stupid thing'; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is 'a stupid thing'; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much raisin bran that morning isn't as much a 'Stupid thing' as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once, but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying, 'Well, I didn't Fuck him' somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world 'looked funny' to you yesterday. Since your World revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the millcum-guzzling blonde who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector.By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I forwarded this email to about 100 people.
Talk to you never,

World's Meanest Email

*BTW, I DO have permission to print this.

On Tue, Nov 11, 2008 at 10:53 AM, Laura Tate wrote:

MORNING. I want to go back to bed immediately, but will be at work until like 8:00. EW.

Anyway, last night I was scheduled to have drinks with my friend Katie, who is totally awesome. I debuted with her. But for some strange reason, she is friends with Lindsey [redacted] (though I think not best friends or anything, thank goodness). So when Lindsey somehow learned that Katie and I were going to have a drink, she apparently invited herself and Katie informed me of this yesterday, but for some reason I did not make up any excuses. I have been avoiding Lindsey successfully for 1 year, after blocking her from gchat, ignoring her countless Facebook wall posts, and coming close to hiding out in the garbage room in my building's basement until she leaves New York. I even saw her in Williamsburg after Audra moved there, but ducked behind Evan and his parents while whisper-shouting "OH MY GOD! THE MOST ANNOYING PERSON IN THE WORLD IS RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET! THERE! IN THE YELLOW TANK TOP AND AVIATOR SUNGLASSES!"

So I went there and watched them each drink about 6 glasses of wine as Lindsey told the following stories (loudly):

  • In my favorite moment of the night, we were talking about babies because Katie's sister just had one. Naturally I would have loved to hear about Katie's nephew, but Lindsey would have none of it. She proceeded to inform us that she doesn't "usually" want kids herself (when she finds someone to impregnate her, I'll die of shock), but she was eating dinner at a restaurant one time and her friend so-and-so told her to turn around because a little girl at the next table looked exactly like a child Lindsey would have. I then listened to Lindsey describe this child in detail (creepy, right?), from the haircut to the clothes. Unfortunately my bar stool had no back, so I really had to keep myself from nodding off and falling to the floor.

  • She is against universal health care because she went to a "socialist" doctor in England and came back with bronchitis. I informed her that England/Europe has a longer life expectancy and spends less money per capita on healthcare (thank you V!), so it's safe to say they're not completely incompetent. She then said, "Well, um, I had bronchitis!" I informed her this was an isolated case and probably had nothing to do with the "freaky herbs and drugs" she claimed to have been given. As a side note, I think it would be pretty tough for anyone who went to medical school or has EVER VISITED A DOCTOR'S OFFICE to mess up the treatment for bronchitis. Antibiotics. Plus, Lindsey is clearly too out to lunch to take the full course of treatment.

  • At one point she asked me if I "remembered" her boyfriend Dave – I said yes, as in "No, I've never met him, but I have heard you obsess about him PLENTY." (Her mother, in her constant attempts to correct Lindsey/calm her down/restore a sense of dignity to her offspring, frequently reminded me when she was in town last fall that Dave was too old, chubby, and freakishly short.) Lindsey then told me that Dave had the audacity to get married on her 25th birthday (what a JERK! NOT) and then listed all of the 2 boyfriends (and I think 1 imaginary boyfriend) who married the next girl they dated, afterward declaring herself "the girl you date before you marry someone else," noting that they usually went back to whoever they dated right before her. Yeah? No shit. They saw that there really ISN'T anything better out there and the fear of ending up with someone like Lindsey scared them so much that they ran as fast as they could to the altar to protect themselves.

  • Then I got to hear about Lindsey's election night. Apparently she wasn't "thrilled" with either of the candidates, meaning that her father told her to vote Republican and she realized they were going to lose, so she declared herself a moderate/centrist to save her own dignity (all 3 teaspoons of it she has left) and pretend she is actually smart enough to understand what either political party represents ("um, I think one raises taxes or something?" I mean, fine, be Republican. I don't care. But if you honestly have no idea what you're talking about, you need to be kept in a cage in Siberia on Election Day). She went out to a lovely dinner with two of her friends and refused to watch the returns, but then ended up on the phone with Holloway Gott for 2 hours while Holloway cried about how her husband, stationed in Afghanistan, will inevitably die due to Obama's election. When I informed Lindsey that Obama's anti-war stance actually means that Tim might come home, she switched gears and then told me that poor Holloway doesn't know any better. Another example of what happens when Lindsey talks to someone smarter than she is – she buckles under pressure and pretends her idiocy is actually someone else's view she was just innocently relating.

  • At another point when I asked Katie about her new nephew (whose name is Winfield, which I think is totally WASPy and awesome, not to mention that Katie's sister is awesome and I REALLY wanted to hear about the new baby), Lindsey insisted that it was more important to hear about her friend Ginsey's (sp? Not sure, because it's some sort of invented Marietta nickname for Virginia) baby, even though a) I have never met Ginsey, b) Ginsey accidentally got pregnant and had a baby in college and is now living with her parents, making her situation something you don't happily mention over wine with the girls, and c) Oh – yeah – I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I then looked at pictures of Ginsey's baby on Lindsey's iPhone and saw that Caitlin called her about 6 times during this conversation.

  • When I identified her jacket as Paul & Joe for Target, I then had the privilege of enduring a rundown of where she purchased every piece of clothing, jewelry, and piece of lint she was wearing. Her sweater was "Abercrombie from 6th grade," which is just so hilariously cheap with a Ralph Lauren skirt, her barf-colored Paul & Joe jacket, her Tory Burch ballet flats and the costume jewelry that she sports like a 6 year old playing dress-up in her mother's closet. Just to piss her off, when she concluded by saying "Look at me, really mixing high and low fashion," I made a quip about Michelle Obama's penchant for H&M and J. Crew. She politely laughed, making it abundantly clear she had no idea what the heck I was talking about. As usual.

  • Yes, we have a lot of election-laced stuff in here; I was merely trying to crush everything she said with my relative wealth of knowledge about politics and current events. It was incredibly obnoxious and satisfying. But I think this gem will lead you to understand why I acted this way: you see, Lindsey's father is a lawyer in Atlanta, and when she voted absentee this year she called him for his counsel on which judges to vote for, as they are not listed by party. And do you know what is SO fucking funny?!?! Her dad knew ALL of them! Like, she would be looking at one and read it to him and he'd say "He was my pledge brother" or "I worked with him right out of law school" or "he was my best man" or "why yes, that's the man I call every night before I go to sleep." She kept emphasizing that she was making informed votes, as "these are people MY DAD works with on a daily basis and knows REALLY WELL." Wow, what intimate connections he has with all of Atlanta's great and powerful judges, who are practically famous for holding the least glamorous elected offices in a badly-run Southern state capital. As another daughter of an Atlanta attorney, I actually know just how unremarkable it is for lawyers and judges to know each other since, you know, THEY ARE IN THE SAME PROFESSION. The ultimate name-dropping, Lindsey – not only do you not know these people yourself, but no one cares about them – AT ALL.

So, after an hour and a half of this, I figured it was best either to fashion a pistol out of various utensils on the bar and shoot myself with it or get out of there as fast as I could. I did manage to start picking up my stuff, but Lindsey detained me for another 10 minutes planning our joint belated birthday celebration that will never, ever happen as long as I live, breathe, and hate people who won't shut up when they have nothing to talk about.

Did I mention I ran out so fast I forgot to leave money for the 1 glass of wine I drank? Yeah, incredibly rude, ridiculously inconsiderate, not like me at all. But for God's sake, CAN ANYONE BLAME ME?????



Thursday, November 13, 2008


It was totally ladies night...meaning it killed.

And no, it was not like that episode of "Six Feet Under" where Ruth enjoys a kooky girls-only party (and by 'girls', I mean no one under the age of forty-five). They get all effed up, and pledge to start an all-woman commune together. No men allowed!

Wednesday, November 5, 2008