Stairway to Heaven

P.S. I love the sound of my own voice...not. Cringe.

Today I am thankful for...

THE UNICORN SONG

Thanks Dad!

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.

Z-Card

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.

Brad,
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.
Elizabeth

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,
Brad

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 25^th 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 6^th 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?????

Love,

Lulu

11.11.08

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!

YES WE DID!!!

Freaks & Geeks

HAPPY HALLOWIENERS! Today is most likely my favorite holiday.

Going to the Day of the Dead party downtown...DJing/iPoding: Harley & Cassie, Leo Fitz, Chrissie, Waris, etc...and THE VIRGINS are gonna play a show. Great times.

L'inspiration du soir

HBO's Carnivàle
* Thx to C, B & others for turning me on to this amazing show...which of course was canceled. FTW.

OK. Not quite.

What's your costume? I think someone should go as Ghoullio.
TTYL.

Tears On My Pillow

Ball up your fists. Who doesn't love a good cry?


An American Tail - "Somewhere Out There"


Pete's Dragon - "It's Not Easy"


PD - "I Love You, Too"


The Rescuers - "Someone's Waiting for You"

BUT...


Thank you. You're welcome.

Changes for Samantha

I am not ashamed to admit that at nearly a quarter of a century old I am still completely obsessed with American Girl--I can also attest to the fact that since I received my Samantha doll at the age of six, she has always held the highest mark in my heart. I love Samantha because of her amazing gear--the school outfit for S Learns a Lesson, the cape, muff and footwear for winter's Changes for Samantha, basically every outfit and accessory is magnificent. I acquired the complete collection, including all of the furniture, and even a matching nightgown for myself. I later received Kirsten, Felicity and Addy--and I adore all of them. However, Samantha remains above the rest, which says a lot since I hate to play favorites. It pains me that American Girl is bidding adieu to my favorite Gal, but I am positive that there are enough of us Samantha enthusiasts to carry on her legacy to future generations. By the way, I would just like to add that--as a New Yorker--I have gone for High Tea not once, but twice at the American Girl Store on Fifth Avenue; absolutely incredible.

I sincerely hope this is a publicity stunt and that they really aren't sending her away.

GOSSIP GIRL HERE

Tonight's GG, "Pret-a-Poor-J" did indeed runneth over with predictable plot lines and the same ole love triangles, quadrangles, hexagons, etc. But in no uncertain terms do I wish to trash the show, it's too easy--and like Richard @ Gawker has duly noted, this 'dramedy' can only be viewed in the light of comedy, where often the joke is on the show's creators, themselves (I'm talking to you, Josh Schwartz). The writers of this show are not ignorant of the cliches, farce and sometimes seemingly unintentional satire for which they themselves are responsible. For those of us who shouted in gleeful agreement with New York Magazine's declaring it the Best.Show.Ever...we the people, get. this. show. We love it not in spite of its flaws, but for all the forty-two odd minutes of its utter ridiculousness.

As the title suggests, little Jenny Humphrey gets to carry the episode, now that she's dropped out of Constance and is the big bright shining star of Eleanor Waldorf Designs, all while being home-schooled with/by Vanessa (though please note that V still finds time to "run" the Rufus gallery, attempt to save non-Williamsburg Brooklyn bars and also make movies--that are now for her admission to NYU). Anyway, Willa Holland shows up at the 'Atelier' playing the role of a model named "Agyness," so basically one is to assume that had this taken place during, say 1995, she'd go by "Kate." But I digress...so Agy is doing a fitting with J, and they become like, insta-Be Fri's. Meanwhile, Eleanor keeps taking credit for J's designs, but neglects to follow through on her promise to let lil J meet 'n greet the all the oh-so-important buyers. Not fair! What's an aspiring fashionista to do? How 'bout flee the stuffy UES and head downtown to party with Agy AND (here's where it gets really good) her 'photographer' friend, "Max"--i.e. the Mark Hunter to her would-be Cory Kennedy. The Cobrasnake--I mean, Max takes a bunch of Last-Night's-Party-esque pix of the two crazy gals, and J is eating it up. Unfortunately, she has to pull an all-nighter for Eleanor (to copy a dress she designed but with Waldorf fabric) in preparation for the presentation tomorrow with Bendel's and Bergdorff's--Eleanor has of course promised Jenny that she will be allowed to sit in on the meeting, but obviously dramatic irony is at work here, and we know it's not gonna happen. Jenny is forced to turn down A and M's oh-so tempting offer to go meet up with a stylist for Paper Mag and Nylon (wowzer!), and head back uptown. Pret-A-Poor-J, indeed.

Meanwhile, Nate "man-bangs" Archibald continues to shack up chez Humphrey, much to the chagrin of Vanessa (whose hair btw, was not nearly as fug as it was last week). Ever noticed how pretty much everything in life gets that girl's American Apparel knickers in a twist? To V, the Devil Wears Headbands--sometimes Prada ones, too--though V's too high up on her moral high horse to notice (side note: whatever happened to her Vespa?). Yes, the girl (Blair) is back in town--err, back in Brooklyn (omg ew!). You see the Blair and Chuck cat and mouse game, the song that never ends...oh, but sing on, B since Serena has managed to enlist Dan and his 'male perspective' to advise over the situation. I have to say, although B & C are pretty much the number one reason to watch this weekly charade, the whole "say those three words, no you say them first, no you, OK no nookie, OK fine" shtick has definitely run its course, especially after last week's Cruel Intentions episode. But back to Brooklyn--Serena and Dan are somehow on good terms again, I guess because last week she apologized for turning him back into the pumpkin, I mean, social outcast that he was pre-Serena. So S convinces B that D is the one who can truly help her get Chuck to scratch her itch (that only he can scratch). Blair finds that Dan does indeed have a few good ideas, and off she goes on her quest of seduction.

The 'Bedford Gallery'--because remember, the Humphrey's live in Williamsburg not D.U.M.B.O--is gearing up for another opening, and sparks fly when Serena meets the artist-in-residence, who is basically just Dan 'cept he's into light installations or something, rather than penmanship. He asks Serena out, but she refuses so as not to hurt poor Daniel. Mr. Artist gives her some crazy riddle to solve (I know, WTF) in exchange for a second chance to go out with him, but for the moment, S would rather mend her friendship with D than pursue a new romantic interest.

Speaking of interests, it seems Nate--maybe after accidentally walking in on a half-naked Jenny--may have a thing for Girl Humphrey. And while we're back to J, after slaving away all night for Eleanor, the boss takes her work and tells her to home because she looks like hell (yeah, all that eyeliner does make her appear rather cracked-out). Jenny is furious because this is her dress and Eleanor promised that she would get to meet the buyers today and maybe, finally get some credit for her work. When it becomes clear that's never gonna happen, J goes off on a tirade against Eleanor and walks out, taking her frocks with her--including, the green number that Serena wore on the catwalk (the one Andre Leon Talley just loved).

Everyone ends up back in Brooklyn for Mr. Artist's gallery opening, including Agy and Max, who it turns out went to RISD with Mr. Artist--small world! Agy is thrilled to hear about Jenny's Waldorf walk-out, and convinces her to start her own clothing line--I mean, she totes knows an Editor at Nylon, Max can shoot the campaign and OMFG it's gonna rawk. J, A and M ditch the gallery under the pretense of meeting up with all of Agy's so-called Hipster fashion connects, but instead they end up at Max's pad--what the show's set designer's perceive to be a way cool downtown loft. Agy pressures Jenny to dance with her in their bras to the Smith's while Mark, I mean, Max snaps away, how edgy, how cool.

Vanessa tells Dan about being used as "catnip" by Blair and Chuck in last week's episode (where I guess she was the Reese Witherspoon character, with bad hair), and she's ticked off that Dan would be willing to help someone as evil as Blair--because in her opinion, Chuck is the lesser villain of the two. Always the pawn, Dan sabotages Blair's final chance to be with Chuck angering Serena in the process, but not enough for her to turn her back on Dan. In the midst of asking Dan's permission (why?) to accept the date with Mr. Artist she suddenly solves the riddle and realizes that holleeee shitballs, they not only attended camp together as little tots in Switzerland, but were married on the bank of Lake Geneva, with licorice rings and everything! Sadly for S, she's too late, as she watches him whisk some other young lass away on his moped. Too bad, he would've been Dan with money, and hence, nothing over which to argue--didn't she almost have it all...poor S.

Chuck and Blair finally come to terms with the fact that they could never be an actual couple, that without the games, there's nothing between them. Finally! Sad for Blair, but happy for us, since it's been pretty obvious their romance was a one-way ticket to nowhere, and those two can now go back to wreaking havoc and hilarity on the lives of others, phew.

Back to those half-naked girls--Jenny's totally into it, until Nate--who apparently possesses the clairvoyance to know J's exact location--dashes in as J's "Knight in Shining Armani," who actually looks like a total L 7 in this 'uber edgy' downtown setting, but who cares as he whisks Jenny away, and out of this 'very dangerous' situation.' Surprise, surprise, Nate berates Jenny for being so foolish...and then they MAKE OUT. End Scene. Wonder how long it'll take Dan to break them up; place your bets.

Saving the best for last, which is actually the first scene--my god, after that My Fair Lady parody, I didn't think that could be topped, but--by george, she's got it! Well, Leighton does, anyway. The show opens with Blair fantasizing about sexing it up with Chuckie, while she, um, services herself (all with Kristen Bell narrating away)...until, gasp, Dorota walks in! Blair asks for a few more minutes of privacy, you know, just to finish a little project. D's response? "Remember, god is always watching."

Like I said...

XO XO

The old guy and the black guy?

5:19 PM Laura: yeah...I don't know if Dan can make it

he's been working SO MUCH

5:20 PM me: really?

Laura: yes it SUCKS

i hate it

me: like because of the economy?

like you said, i heard there's something wrong with it, or something

5:21 PM Laura: apparently. I guess the world is having money troubles

5:25 PM me: something like that?!

i heard these two guys both want the same job

like to run something

5:26 PM Laura: the old guy and the black guy?

me: Is he black? I heard he's a terrorist.

5:28 PM Laura: omg - what?

he's a muslin?

me: IDK

Laura: liek the fabric?

me: i heard he's BFF with a terrorist

5:32 PM Laura: is he going to make us all muslim?

or is he going to attack US

5:33 PM me: probably. i heard he's gonna take all our money via taxes and use it to give health care to poor people. wtf.

Laura: well...that's actually true

but I'm OK with it because I'm a bit of a socialist

now that we see capitalism run amok is not good

dude Dan HATES Obama

it pains me

5:36 PM me: i just sent a probama email

Laura: nice

I'll be there with you

me: can we start a facebook group--girls who love cats and barack obama

5:40 PM Laura: yes

I can invite my friend B

me: my friend has a dachshund named barrie barack obama

i'm sooo jealous

5:41 PM did you read my email? did you like the part about the wolves?

5:42 PM Laura: YES

I think I am going to come

me: cool

Laura: I'll bring my sis

me: it'll be funny

5:43 PM like calling random people

Laura: I want to call and say "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? He's 172 years old!"

me: NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN

THE LAST CALL FOR CHANGE: BOWERY HOTEL

Sunday, October 26
Noon-8pm (show up whenever, leave whenever)

The Bowery Hotel 335 Bowery
btw. 3rd & Bond Streets
New York, NY 10012

Please come join us in making calls to undecided swing state voters, who very well may decide the outcome of this campaign.

It promises to be a very interesting experience. Bring friends, your cell phones and cell phone
chargers...and it's the weekend, which equals unlimited minutes, duh.

See you there...K THX BAI.

Today on Tyra: BROMANCE

Remember on Gossip Girl ("Chuck In Real Life") this past Monday when Dan had a whole monologue (or so it felt like) about his Bromance situation? He got extremely defensive. His point ultimately being that getting together with Nate to 'juggle soccer balls' does not mean...well, exactly what it sounds like.

Cut To: The one woman we can always count on to create public awareness of the important issues, Miz Tyra Banks. Today, watch as she and her guests thoroughly explore the cultural phenomenon behind said portmanteau.

"Bromance"

Boys will be boys -- until they become more than just friends. Tyra talks to men whose relationships with their “boys” have become so super-close, they’re considered bromances! Watch as jealous girlfriends dish about what it’s like to be outsiders in their own relationships -- and refuse to take a backseat to their boyfriends’ bromances!

Groucho and Me (Part III)

BIRTHDAY EDITION!

Born: October 2, 1890
(so technically, this post is one day late)

Ode to Grouch