Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Speaking of WTF...


No, honestly. I don't understand. So is it like Mothers Against Drunk Driving or Driving Drunk or whatever but to protect children from Tweeting Predators? I mean, not like Twitter is the most sophisticated thing in the world or anything, but I cannot imagine many of the dudes from "To Catch a Predator" on Twitter. So weird and difficult to picture (so to speak) similar types sending those X-rated tweets right from their iPhones...and BlackBerries (I don't discriminate too much). Anyway. EW. WTF.

I don't know. What else could really it be? I really have no clue what *The Influential Moms Network* means. I just saw it and thought WTF.

Spoiler Alert--Is actually rather lame slash boring:

p.s. In a related story, I am now on Twitter. In a related story, DUH.

The Snuggie! AKA The WTF Blanket


Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Death Therapy, Bob. It's a guaranteed cure.

I'm only trying to say that Amity is a summer town. We need summer dollars. Now, if the people can't swim here, they'll be glad to swim at the beaches of Cape Cod, the Hamptons, Long Island...

What we're entitled to is a house in the Hamptons. Maybe a perscription drug problem. But happiness does not seem to be on the menu.

You French great.

I am a star. I'm a star, I'm a star, I'm a star. I am a big, bright, shining star.

I don't see any connection to Vietnam...Anaïs.
Well, there isn't a literal connection, Dude.
Anaïs face it, there isn't any connection.

OK, stop. I feel like I'm watching regional theatre, you guys. God! Am I in the Cleveland Playhouse or something? Your craft is a muscle, you need to exercise it. Take a break; think about what you've done.

These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand racing.

Come on, man. I had a rough night and I hate the fuckin' Eagles, man!

You're the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it.
With pride. What can I do for you?

Carnies. Circus folk. Nomads, you know. Smell like cabbage. Small hands.

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

Of course. The rabbit's not like us. It has no... keen look at something in the mirror, it has no history books, no photographs, no knowledge of sorrow or regret...

Now, we need to make 8 gallons of bug juice by snack hour; do you know where the powder packets are?

Take a vacation. I'M ON VACATION.

Would you call me selfish?
No. Not to your face.

How bout I answer your question with another question; how many abo-digitals do you see modelling?

Zero hour...Scott. It's the end of the line. I'm the firstborn. I'm sick of playing second fiddle. I'm always third in line for everything. I'm tired of finishing fourth. Being the fifth wheel.

Now put your hands up in the club...

I want you inside me.
What did you say?
Oh hey... from before...

And who am I? That's one secret I'll never tell ...


C U Next Tuesday

Oh such a lazy post...but it is my intention to entertain you, really.

Anyway, basically...eff you, TV. Feature length films... booooring. So pretentious.

Just give in to the magic of video internetz...

This first video--very popular at the moment--is kind of like a LOLCATS Super Special (bonus points if you got that Babysitters Club reference).

Crazy (crazy brilliant, that is) director, Liam Lynch provides an excellent introduction to this piece.
*Please note: Liam refers to a recording of "Dan talking"--more specifically, Dan is ranting during an LSD Trip.

No explanation necessary.

This next one came up when I was trying to find video evidence of police brutality (um, more about that another time)...anyway, it's just absolutely insane. I mean, really.(?)

And now...back to happy, shining, sparkly magnificence!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009


Blah, blah, blah...the most annoying night of the year. I kind of feel like an asshole for even posting this stuff, not to mention that this shit's a month old already. I need to get over it. All people who blog are tools--not all tools are people who blog.

Eda, Nico and I went to Jill & Zach's party at their swanky new-ish place in Williamsburg. Every year we make sandwiches for dinner on NYE--giant, monstrous, gourmet'd-out sammy's with every possible savory ingrediant available from Whole Foods or whatever.

I met John at Lionsgate--my press contact for the WSN.

Katie and I have been bro's since we was 9 years old, yo!

I met Adam this summer when we went camping in Brooklyn. Mmhmm.

We counted down on the roof. It was like negative forty degrees.

So this was just stop number one of numerous locations that night--I feel like the no photos after 5am rule should be ammended to nothing after midnight on this particular night of the year.

P.S. If you see THIS IS NOT AN EXIT 'tagged' in pink lipstick on any wall(s) anywhere...I do apologize.

I can get cash for this gold medallion of me wearing a gold medallion!

I don't really care.
Well I care.

You spend all day on the phone anyhow! Why don't you make a phone call that's gonna help you in your future?


Tuesday, February 3, 2009

I like to dissect girls. Did you know I'm utterly insane?

Reason #75,943,748,593 Why 30 Rock KILLS

Reason #93,201,783,748,594:

I mean, what are you gonna do--turn off your T.V. AND your computer??

Gold Medal Winner of Bong Hits

"You could tell Michael had smoked before. He grabbed the bong and a lighter and knew exactly what to do. He looked just as natural with a bong in his hands as he does swimming in the pool. He was the gold medal winner of bong hits."

I mean, I hope Mikey's not sore about that quote--homeboy was just trying to pay him a compliment.

Also on The View yesterday, Elizabeth Hasselbeck made the obvious connection that if MP's smokin' the ganj he's probably, definitely taking steroids--I mean, yeah, everyone knows weed's the ultimate gateway drug for juicin' up. What a dumb bitch.