ANTM Cycle 14: I swear to god, I hope vampires are real out of spite

photo courtesy of Fanpop. And whoever they took it from.

Alright my little moon disco Macintoshes, let's talk about how much better the Kanye Pandora channel is than the Lady Gaga channel. I'm just saying. One gives me Mos Def, the other gives me T.A.T.U. Followed by Nelly Furtado. Oh Pandora, you are a fickle lover.

Now let's talk about vampires. Cause that was the theme for this week's ANTM, that and CoverGirl screwing people (see NICOLE FOX) over. Seriously, what's up with this Dania person? Her pants are two sizes too small for her. Probably cause she's not a petite model. Do you know what she was on Heroes? She was crazy "oil oozes out from eyes and kills all of you" girl. NOT SEXY. Where is Nicole?

Okay, back to vampires. You know what I think of when I think "vampires"? Hair identity issues. No, it's true. Pattison and his amazing engineered hair of steel have permanently linked the two in my head, which is why this week's focus on Brenda and her hair of suck (see, pun) was totally appropriate. Brenda was freaking out. I mean, in general. But then Tyra saw she was "not working the edge" and decided to just make the girl cry and shave the sides of her head into this rag doll of a faux hawk mullet. Which incredibly, Brenda still managed to make look soccer mommy. It's like, her super power.

You know what else I think of with vampires? Mommy issues. As in, no mother should be allowed on ANTM ever again. I am sick of it. I am sick of the manufactured child pity monologues, but mostly I am sick of the constant superiority complex they lord over everyone else in the house. "I had to grow up really fast cause I got knocked up, so even though I'm on a CW modeling competition and only 2 years older than you, I'm going to treat you like a child." If being a mommy is so important to you? GO GET A JOB THAT INCLUDES A BENEFITS PACKAGE AND WON'T INVOLVE YOU NEVER BEING HOME. I want to bitch slap this Anslee thing.

In her defense though, Alize totally shouldn't have gone to the dark place with that whole bad mother thing. I would have probably lunged across the counter and throttled her. However, the dark place is where Alize lives, and the dark place is full of water, because Alize will never take off her silver bathing suit. The girls had to do some stupid activity where they learned to emote from the Upright Citizens Brigade (what?) and when Alize fell over? SHE WAS TOTALLY WEARING THE SUIT UNDER HER SWEATER.

I have a terrible theory that maybe she couldn't afford to buy nice underwear before coming on the show? Or she's a Never Nude?

So the producers did the next logical thing and totally took all the lines out of the Cover Girl commercials. As in, just stand there and pose dahlings. Tatianna (Who? I know, right?) takes the cake by silently posing like a Ukrainian video girl. Good for her. I guess.

Back at the house, the Tyra Mail tells the girls they will be visiting the No Neck Monster for their photo shoot. Every girl in the house assumes this means snakes, because what else would any reasonable person assume? I certainly don't think of vampires. I mean, vampires have necks. That's how they became vampires. Jay shows up in his bestest Saturday night leather bathrobe. The girls have to put in whiteout contacts for the shoot, which leads to Brenda crying again and Anslee being all stupid superior again and me cutting my toenails. Then the girls have to climb into a tub of blood, because this is a True Blood photo shoot where everyone is wearing cutoffs in a claw foot bathtub. Everyone freaks about the blood, except Tats, who is all like "I'm not scared of blood, I work with dead bodies." Which would be impressive if it was real blood. Which it wasn't. Calm the fuck down.

So to sum up, they inexplicably frizz Raina's hair again. Simone and Anslee try out for the remake of Mannequin. Alize knows how to spread her legs. And Tyra is going to wear a new and ugly in a different way jumpsuit every episode. Beauty Queen gets kicked off, which is totally unfair, but whatever, she's professional and nice about it. I bet she's sad she can't mention she goes to Duke every 12 seconds anymore in a national forum. And no one has killed that Talley thing yet, which I am really disappointed in. I refuse to adopt dreckitude as a thing. Tyra has started imitating his cadence, which is almost completely unbearable. Doesn't he have a vacation house in Thailand to retire to? He and Dania should go there and farm pepper. Maybe then they would get some idea of what hot actually means.

I know, that last one didn't go anywhere. Oh well. Jumpsuits!

Oh Wendy's, you are truly the Helen Mirren of the Fast Food World

stolen from The Gurgling Cod

I say we take a road trip to Waltham MA.

"They take the chicken and nugget it. Then they take the chili and magic it. So, here is what I did. I ordered both the Chicken Nuggets and the Chili from the lady. Both of them are on the dollar menu and I was all like "WHAAAT?" and the lady was like "BOOM!"

"Its like Jesus whispered in Wendy's Ear and said "Make it so that when you dip the fries in the chocolate malt, people will orgasm"

And now I have to go to Wendy's for lunch. I hope you happy Internet. First you torture me with Benjamin Button references all day. Then you make me crave a spicy chicken sandwich. Seriously, I'm totally sorry about the Hardcore thing. Can't we be even now?

I'm pretty sure I'm Destined for Raver Hell no matter how much indie rock I listen to

America's Next Top Model: What the Fuck Tyra?

I know firing squads aren't allowed in America, but isn't the CW based in the Phillipines? Or a dimension where international law doesn't apply? Why are they in Barbie's Malibu condo?

So I mentioned my DVR drama last week. Apparently the magic box has magically worked itself out, so lucky me, I was able to watch ANTM's last episode. Remember how I was all set to cancel my cable? Well then Breaking Bad started again, and this new show Justified with Timothy Old Elephant. So yeah, I'm not getting rid of it. Nobody thought for a moment I really would right? That would be like France admitting Muslims have rights. That Justified show is kick ass by the way. But after watching this ANTM episode, I can safely say I fear for my sanity. Cause I voluntary watched this show for years. Like, two years. Countless hours spent trying to come up with pithy comments and comedic insults. Only to be rewarded, once my ANTM skills were tuned and humming, to this disaster of a season.

It's like Tyra thought "hey, Bridget's not watching, let's kick everyone off that is mildly attractive at all!"

My favorites have been decimated. The after school tragedy of Gabrielle. The CBS mystery of Naduah. And now the whiny embarrassment that is R.E.N. "I just want my mom to like me! Even though I apparently hate her! But yet I'm only doing this for her! She didn't buy me clothes!" I'm sure they all deserved to be sol...sent home.

Now we're left with 8 weird girls they grabbed from malls, who all have kids and desperation in spades. Abasia, Abattoir, Achene, Algolagnia, Anile, Apostrophe, Arguria and Allolalia. The Eight Reasons to send your teenage daughter to an all girls school. I hate them all. I hate the one who DOES look like Miranda from SIC. I hate the trashy one from Georgia who is going to be the worst old lady ever. I hate the pageant queen who doesn't know how to pose and wears weird purple things to panel. I sort of hate the skinny boney one who functions as a black hole, sucking in all interest and leaving us with nothing but the Approaching Void... but not as much as the others. I want to take the one who is obviously Skipper's black friend and ship her to Bryn Mawr and leave her there until she learns how to tell the difference between clothing and bathing suits.

And then there's Raina. I don't particularly like her as a model, but whatever. She and the Void are the only ones with a shot here. Let's just put them in a cage and let them battle it to the death, then we'll really be able to tell who Wants It More.

Tyra, you have spent 9 years whipping your viewing public into model judging shape. You have to raise your standards accordingly. Or maybe the show has successfully gone through all the pretty girls in America who give a shit about Cover Girl?

This Leon Talley thing? Is it there to eat the losers? Kill it.

There may or may not be another recap next week. I may have run off to Wyoming by then, and boarded myself up in an abandoned coal mine.

I Relent Doug

So this morning, Occasional Superheroine shared this with her readers:



I love that video specifically because of how some of those people just start dancing with him. It makes me so happy.

So then, because I had the song in my head (and I admit, I like this song. A lot), I had to go watch the actual video. I watched both of them, the ten minute long operatic one with the plot details and so many long awkward pauses I couldn't take it. And then the edited 3 minute one below. I mean, it's a music video. You shouldn't stop the song for two minutes in the middle of video.

I have not liked any Lady Gaga before this, and I wonder if I like this more because she reminds me of Madonna in it. Am I being shallow? Does the fact that most of her costumes are pretty tame and bare endear her more to me? Or maybe I just like this song. I know I like that fact that Gaga uses Beyonce as her little Barbie doll, and I love how much fun Beyonce is finally having. If Gaga is the musical partner that brings Beyonce out from the platinum palace and back to the mall, then I forgive her Poker Face. But not Bad Romance. Rah Rah Suck It.

Isn't that a great stillframe for a video? This whole choreographed dance scene ripped jeans thing? How can you not want to watch that?

Edit: apparently the only "official" short version is covered with ad stuff, so I had to find a new one, cause they took the first one down. So the ripped jeans thing no longer makes sense. But listen, why do they overprotect music videos, of all things? I mean, don't you want people to see them?



But I really really love the comments...oh comments...you're my favorite friend.

glorifiedp do not support this woman or beyonce. they have ties to secret societies and the occult. in short, they've sold their souls to globalist elites bent on turning YOU into a mindless automaton, devoid of morals or principles (as evidenced in this video). the symbolism in her videos is apparent to anyone willing to see. Check out her hand to the eye gesture in all her videos (it's the eye of horus). aside from all of this, this new music is just plain shit. 3

angelic6465 What! Oh my god she's driving the pussy wagon from kill bill. how hilarious.

Yes Angelic, it's hilarious. It's insane. It's unheard of. It's the Eye of Horus!

Lady Gaga tickets went on sale today. I'm pretty sure everyone at that show gets a Free Ascension, so don't miss out. This might be your only chance to get out before the Rapture.

Well I, for one, think you're wonderful. <3, your secret girl crush admirer

Thanks. I think you're wonderful too, because I think anyone that thinks I'm wonderful must be smart, funny, good looking, and forgiving. Also probably has a desk job. Hopefully with a good retirement plan.

Are you reading this Boy? Don't be stingy with The Wire. I have other options.

Don't mind the haters Bridget. We love you.

It's funny, cause before I went to bed last night, I got called a hater. Which is not odd. The Boy calls me a hater at least twice a day. At first I found it confusing, because I thought a hater was somebody who talked shit about people that were more talented than them. But? I mean? C'mon. Drake? Squidbillies? Buddhism? Versus Me? Now I realize it's his way of admitting he's a hater, by hating on me. Also, he's psychologically incapable of giving compliments, something I like about him, because it makes me have to work for them. So when he's calling me a hater, he's actually saying "you're the most wonderful girl in the city, and you have the best most discerning taste."

Alright people, ask me some real questions.

Ask me anything

fucking bitch

Who? Moi? really?

I bet you're way more conservative than you pretend to be to your friends.

Also, I hope writing this anonymously to me online makes you feel better about what are obviously some unresolved issues. You should work on those. Unless working on them requires you to interact with me at all, in which case you shouldn't. I don't really need to know who you are.

Ask me anything

I Don't Need To Tell You My Mood. Just Guess. Here Are Some Clues.

So the following conversation was had by me today on Gawker.

Dsmvwl Admin Promote to frontpage Approve user Ban user ×

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SharpShinyClaws 01:12 PM

All I'm saying is that if some sort of "revolution" comes, and you tea party people think you're going to be offing a bunch of liberals without guns, think again. Just because we're liberal doesn't mean we're not prepared. After all, we live in sinful Sodom cities right? We were practically raised in the Apocalypse. Also, we're smarter than you.

brianesser76 01:18 PM

@SharpShinyClaws: I'd venture the numbers of gun toting liberals is minuscule compared to gun toting republicans.

SharpShinyClaws 01:36 PM

@brianesser76: That's because our hunter/pot dealing boyfriends don't let people play with them at parties or take them out in public.

SuperKarateMonkeyDea... 02:19 PM

@SharpShinyClaws: You know who was a liberal? Einstein. What did he do? He came up with the idea for THE ATOMIC BOMB. That's right, teabaggers. BRING IT.

I made this dinner last weekend when I had to make something, which is how this happens. Skinless chicken breast dredged in egg/flour/cornstarch/five spice, then deep fried and sauced with this glazey stuff that was half honey, half siricha, splash of soy sauce and fish sauce. Potent. Snap peas sauteed really briefly in garlic, butter, and soy, so they are still snap crackle poppy. Look what pretty colors! Proving once again that fish sauce makes everything good.

Then I made apple crumble in my toaster oven, with pecans mixed into the crumble and a premade shortbread crust that was sitting around and saved me from having another dish to do. So it was more of an apple crumble pie. Less sweet, more apple buttery. I've been eating it all week. Look, it has a halo. And thus I avoided 5 apples going bad. I am a good shopper. Sort of.


The Boy has figured out the perfect way to keep me around. Get me addicted to The Wire, then only feed me a few episodes every other week. It's ingenious. I will never be able to break up with his Netflix account, or at least not for a really long time. How many seasons are there? I'm on like, episode 5. Seriously.

Speaking of tv, Time Warner did some hoodoo shit to their system, and now all my scheduled DVRs are erased, and I don't have half the channels under 23, which by the way includes the channels ANTM and Lost are on. So that's two episodes of ANTM to catch up on, and one apparently really riveting episode of Lost, and I hate you Time Warner. They tell me I have to switch my box, but they don't really have a fucking clue, and if I miss either of these shows next week, I'm just cancelling my cable cause fuck, I find I don't care that much. Cable, your hold on my loyalty is more tenuous than you think. There's a lot of unrequited "smart people don't watch cable" guilt wafting around my head. You'd better tread lightly.

Also, my brother showed me the Cutest Thing Ever, Cuter Than Squirrels

Just in case you get the wrong impression, here's my dinner from last night.

Things I will say on the internet that will probably make you mad...cause I'm mad.

I know I haven't spoken a lot about politics lately on there. I still read about it a lot, but lately it seems like the only thing to really point out is the ridiculousness, the downright death defying dumb crappiness, of it all. At one point, while reading some of the outrage that the Health Care Haters poured forth, I just wanted to run to my daddy and say "has everyone always been like this?"


He's been into politics twice as long as I have, and 100 times more, so I feel like he could really tell me if the circus has always been this bad, or if I'm really witnessing a turning point. A new McCarythism. Which is what it seems like. Is this the internet's fault? Now that more and more uneducated, selfish, biased hacks are able to find a free voice? I want to launch into rants about the general populace's stupidity, but then I have to remind myself these assholes aren't the general populace. And I blame that squarely on the media, online and other.

The smaller people get to be louder now, but I can't let myself forget that most people in the country don't just glom onto one extreme side or the other, that they are otherwise decent people who aren't great people, but who are trying to survive and get by and don't spend half their waking hours on the internet reading about this stuff. That most Republicans aren't fire and brimstone gay beaters, and most liberals are not...well...me. If there's one thing watching my dad as a child taught me, it's that you have to speak to people as individuals and figure out what their immediate needs are, because that's what they care about and what they will act on. And if you care about people, you should work on those things first. Some people make lots more money than me, so they care about taxes. Lots more people make less money (or just about as much money as me), and they care about public education, and potholes, and healthcare.

Believing what the tv tells you is how The Fear starts.

And if I care more about the needs of the moderately poor, then I just have to get them to vote. Never forget the lesson about voting. The whole point of this fucked up system is that whoever gets the most votes wins, and then they run things for a while, until someone else wins. This should be the accepted rules of the game. Unless you are from Texas and you are this guy. Who wants to repeal the 17th Amendment and allow states to APPOINT their senators. WHAT.

So anyway, here are some of my political feelings today:

1) Of course the Health Care bill is not what we wanted. There's no public option, and that was a large part of what some of us were pushing for. But it's a compromise, and it makes things somewhat better. Not all the way better, but somewhat. If Obama himself had come to me and said "hey, the only way I can get the votes for this is to sign an executive order that says we won't provide more public funding for abortions and that means insurance companies won't be likely to offer it", I would have been like "alright, well that doesn't change much does it? It's bullshit, but alright, make the deal." Because the health insurance I have now wouldn't have paid for an abortion anyway. And the health insurance I had for most of my adult life, which is to say NONE, wouldn't have either. Frankly, I'm with Planned Parenthood on this one. They singlehandedly prevented me from becoming pregnant for ten years, and I feel pretty confident that they've got my best womanly interests at heart.

2) Hey Republicans! Feeling low, cause you think this bill is a bad idea that will bankrupt the country, and force you to buy insurance you don't want, and be complicit in killing babies? Angry that now you, as a participating citizen who uses streets and utilities and firemen and cops, will now have to foot a tiny bit of the bill so poor people don't die? Well guess what? Try electing people who aren't mercantile idiots. When you elect congress people like Bachmann and Boehner, this is what you get. When you voluntarily put people into office who can't take a shit without consulting a lobbyist, and whose only career aspiration is to get invited on Fox News as a consultant, you are fucking screwed. I don't give a crap about your media personalities and their destructive weevil little minds. They aren't policy makers. But your policy makers are dumb! I know there are well-spoken not dumb Republicans. I meet them in real life sometimes. But why don't I ever see them on the news?

And calm the fuck down. This bill and every other piece of legislation coming out of the Hill is so far from Socialism as to be laughable. I mean, it is laughable. It makes me laugh. In a very sad sad elitist way. A condescending laugh really. ALSO LOTS OF REPUBLICANS DRINK COFFEE SO STEP OFF.

Democrats - we're guilty of this too, if in less degree. We have some people sitting in that Congress who are real dickwads (ahem Stupak). JUST BECAUSE A PERSON IS EXPERIENCED AND REALLY OLD, DOES NOT MEAN IT IS GOOD EXPERIENCE. This bill should not have taken as long it did, and it illustrated just how many horses asses are being allowed in DC. Hillary should make you all sit in the corner. The Republicans are not going to remain laughing stocks forever, even though it really seems like it.

3) I cannot even find words for how pissed I am that this Unabashed ToolBox has the balls to insinuate Christiane Amanpour is too Iranian to be the new host of "This Week". Also, and the Salon article didn't really touch on this, he says her profile in Washington has been "widely considered to deficient".

"Consider: Whenever CNN has thrown one of its big election-night, convention, or presidential debate spectaculars, drafting nearly every living staff member to appear, Amanpour has had a conspicuously low profile. "

That's a bad thing? Did she not give someone enough face time, or enough money? Oh my god, that just makes me wish she could be the host of everything.

Anyway, what I'm really mad at here is the idea that being Pro-Israel or Anti-Israel is suddenly a really important qualification when the person isn't bowing down to the Israel lobby like Wolf Blitzer. Israel IS A COUNTRY. It's not a fucking moral decision. I can be anti- Israeli policy and not be an anti-Semite. It's not like being Pro-Women or Pro-Gay. And those things should have nothing to do with her qualifications either, because the whole point of being a journalist is being objective, remember? REMEMBER?

Ain't No Thing

Is it wrong to post a picture of a collage you gave to someone as a present? Does it take away of the value of the present? I prefer to think that in fact it increases the value, because now you are all jealous of my mad collage making skills and the fact that you can never ever have this ever.

What are "things"? An inanimate object. A material possession? An emotional construct regarding a subject in your mind? A large slimy sloth creature slouching towards Metairie LA with the head of a snapping turtle and the body of an obese camel?

This thing, this vague nebulous word used to describe social contracts, pet peeves, bicycles, monsters, unknown objects, asexuals, forbidden fruits, and moldy sandwiches, this word is crawling across our language. In its wake, the littered corpses of proper nouns and NOT ONE SINGLE FACEBOOK FAN PAGE FOR "THINGS". Fix this, my minions. I want to be a fan of Things.

God, if you give me minions, I promise to never yell at my sister again.

Here are some Things:

Thing 1

Thing 2

Thing Red

Thing Blue

Addictive Thing

Amazing Thing

Pretty Thing

It's Open Window Time! Let the Killing Halt!

what is your opinion of the Irish stepdancers and their curly wigs?

As an Irish girl with really really straight brown hair, "nut brown" as they might say in a fairly popular Irish song, I am offended by the Irish step-dancing industry's obvious attempt to cater to a segment of the population whose entire idea of Irish culture comes from their viewings of 19th century Irish immigrant maid porn.

Ask me anything

Corned Beef and Kegs

Photo courtesy of The Boy, who was downtown working yesterday at 6am. When I dropped him off for work this morning, E.4th was littered with trash and looked amazingly like it used to look, before the restaurants grew up like a shiny plastic playmobil set. Dark, gray, dirty, and used up like a twelve dollar whore.

I woke up for a small time today, like I was sitting there at work and thought "wow, my brain is totally finally functioning and clear." But it was over quickly, like a glimpse of the sun through the clouds.

During lunch, I accidentally erased ANTM, cause I misread it and thought it was American Idol. Did I cry? Well, it didn't actually occur to me what I'd done until hours later. The thought slowly crept in, as if I'd forgotten to turn off the lights. But I spent tonight briefly at the roller skating rink for Jere's birthday, and then the Red Lantern for some gay bounty hunter/japanese obstacle course talk. So I'll be honest, I don't have it in me to care. That picture above? That is my brain. Salted fat meat and metal containers of cheap yellow booze ie Giant Hop Urine. I'm going to bed.

What To Do In Cleveland for St. Patricks Day If You are Really Irish and Not A Poser

I finally, after 5 years of having to work St. Patricks Day, got it off this year. That's 5 years of being named Bridget Callahan and not wearing the color green on 3/17 at work. 5 years of the same conversation over and over again. "Bridget Callahan. You're Irish, aren't you? Why aren't you out drinking? Why aren't you wearing green Bridget? Where's your Irish spirit Bridget?"

My Irish spirit is telling me to quit this job, mister. See, most of the time, we don't listen to our Irish spirit, because it tells us to get degenerate drunk and have unprotected sex.

Alright, seriously, my name is Bridget. Callahan. Who the hell doesn't know that's Irish? That's like saying you don't know Maria DiRienzo isn't Italian. Or Olga Napistroika isn't Russian. Napistroika is not a real last name, I don't think, but I sorta wish it was.

Last year I wrote about "stupid rich snots and their Irish Pubs."
2008 it was How Living in Cleveland is Just Like Being Irish
And 2007, R.E.M. was the official band of St. Patricks .
So this year, let's talk about...

What I Will Be Doing Tomorrow Since I Am Actually Sort of Irish (even though we are all technically Americans, which is fine because I would probably make no money, have 12 children, and believe in leprechauns if my forefathers hadn't had the sense to skedaddle.)

1) Going to Church with My Mum.
Alright. This part of the plan is not concrete yet. After all, I'm a hardcore atheist. But my mom is Catholic, and always has to go to church by herself now that my brother's in Columbus. So it would make her happy. Also, I was in church choir for a long time (and every other minor position of power I could insinuate myself into), so there's a nostalgia factor for me. It involves waking up pretty early. But they will have bagpipes.

Point is, you have to go church first, because it's a church holiday, and THEN you go to the bar. DO IT RIGHT PEOPLE OR GOD WILL PUNISH YOU.

2) Eating Corned Beef with My Mum, and Drinking
We'll ( Mom and her friends and me), be going to the ABC Tavern tomorrow morning, so if you wanna come say hi, I'll be the one making fun of my mom for being drunk. My mother is hilariously exactly like me when drunk. Or I'm exactly like her? I like the first way of saying it better.

3) Chasing down short men in green hats, and demanding they give me money.
To be fair, I do this all year round.

4) Voting Democrat.
I know there isn't an election tomorrow, but that's never stopped us before. I figure I can just rig one up in the girls' bathroom. Figure out some way to make it a pyramid scheme. Maybe also have some under the table betting. Kiss some babies. Just symbolically of course, babies are germ infested booger bombs. My ancestors didn't run from the peat bogs just to have some baby spit all over them.

5) Fail At Something Miserably.
Then I will forget I was the one that failed, and blame everyone else. Because I'm awesome at everything I do, so it certainly isn't my fault.
Trust me, this is quintessentially Irish.

6)Overspend on Booze.
See absolutely everything I said above.

7)Apologize to my significant other for being wasted and therefore no good in bed.
Ditto.


So everyone have lots of fun tomorrow, and for gods sakes, use condoms!

The Ides of March

"Ay, they have come, but they are not gone."

Today I have canoodled, grocery shopped, had to call my health insurance company, slept for three more hours in the middle of the day, read too much about Rielle Hunter, and listened to a song detailing the death of Pokemon. Now I have to clean my house. Which means I should not be on here anymore, but I really wanted to post that picture, cause your house would look like that too if you had been bleeding from your vag for a week with no signs of stopping or passing out in your future. In fact, it got worse today. My vagina is being haunted by the ghost of Julius Caesar. He is demanding satisfaction for his grievances. And olives. Also tangerine Popsicles. That's not a winning combination, but I'm afraid of what he might do next. My bureaucracy does not need anymore centralizing.

Edit: by "clean my house" I actually meant "learn the lyrics to Shakira's Objection in Spanish"

I'm not trying to scare anybody but...

Has it occurred to anyone that International Pi = 3.1415926535 Day and Daylight Savings Time happened on the same day this year? Does it mean that all of our mathematical processes are slowly aligning them, shifting into pattern with each other, until they become indistinguishable as one Unified Field Theory, the grays with the grays, the lights with the darks,and then the world ends? Not with a bang, but with a whimper, a slow soft sigh of relief from the universe as it relaxes its muscles and smooths its furrowed brow.

Which sounds all pretty and fine, until you remember that you'll be dead and/or enslaved by pan-dimensional antelope with guns. How would they hold the guns, you ask? They would be mounted on their faces, with a trigger harness attached to one of their back legs.

Daylight Slavings Time

This morning I forgot about the clocks. I should have remembered, since David at the ABC, the man with the infinite capacity for remembering names, drinks, faces, reminded me and pointed out it was George W. Bush's fault it came so early. Here is a prime example of your government working you harder folks. Get the workers up earlier with the excuse of energy savings. Also an example for everyone of how time is just a construct of corporations. The War Machine. The Retailers. Time serves the economy, not you. Remember when you were little, and DST had this flavor of being utterly scientific? Before you understood the actual science of these things, and you thought the government was regulating the rotation of the earth? Remember the hopelessness and cog-in-the-machine feel, parched and restrained, when you first learned that DST was pretty much standardized so they could save coal in the world wars, and give people longer daylight hours to shop?

I am tired and a little bitter. If you couldn't tell.

But I'm trying to erase some bitterness with the sweet candy of Australian scientific papers published in 1898. When DST was conceived with the benefits of mankind in mind. Oh Victorian innocence of the leisurely. You couldn't have known that there would come a time when poor people didn't have time for stirring walks at 5am before work. Or that someday 30 year olds would regularly be sleeping in till 11am on Sundays because they don't believe in God and don't have 14 babies.

"“In order to more fully utilise the long days of summer, it is proposed on the 1st October of each year to put the standard time on two hours by making 12 (midnight) into 2 a.m., whilst on the 1st March the time would be put back two hours by making 2 a.m. into 12 (midnight), thus reverting to the present time arrangements for the winter months. The effect of this alteration would be to advance all the day's operations in summer two hours compared with the present system. In this way the early-morning daylight would be utilised, and a long period of daylight leisure would be made available in the evening for cricket, gardening, cycling, or any other outdoor pursuit desired. It will no doubt be urged that people are at present quite at liberty to make use of the early-morning daylight in summer without any such drastic alteration in the established order of things as is here suggested. To this objection it may be pointed out that, living as we do in a social community, we are unable to separate ourselves from the habits of those around us. We cannot individually alter our times of going to bed or getting up, but must fall in with the habits of the majority—at all events, to a great extent, Again, under the present arrangement, those who desire to utilise the early-morning daylight are compelled to take some of their recreation before their daily work and some afterwards, which in many cases results in their having to forego pursuits that they would be enabled to follow successfully if their daylight leisure were continuous."

George V. Hudson "On Seasonal Time"
All he wanted was some more time in the evening to collect bugs.
Fuck you Hudson.


"I therefore venture to propose that at 2 a.m. on each of four Sunday mornings in April, standard time shall advance 20 minutes; and on each of four Sundays in September, shall recede 20 minutes, or in other words that for eight Sundays of 24 hours each, we shall substitute four, each 20 minutes less than 24 hours, and four each 20 minutes more than 24 hours. (Another means of arriving at approximately the same end would be to alter the clock thirty minutes on only two or three Sundays.) This is the whole cost of the scheme. We lose nothing, and gain substantially. Having made up our minds to be satisfied, on four occasions, with a Sunday of 23 hours and 40 minutes, the advantages aimed at follow automatically without any trouble whatever; everything will go on just as it does now, except that as the later hours of the day come round, they will bring more light with them. Those who have travelled by sea east or west, will remember how easily they accommodated themselves to the frequent alterations of time on board ship. They simply adjusted their watches, attended to the engagements of the day in correspondence therewith, and quickly dismissed from their minds all recollection of the alterations which had been made. If this can take place at sea day after day for several weeks without discomfort, may not a similar operation be possible on land?"

William Willet's 1907 The Waste of Daylight
If the sailors can do it, why can't we? And oh my god, 4 sundays? Seriously? Are you trying to throw the incompetent and unproductive off sync with the rest of the world, so we can go off in a corner and die? Like, if you spin the world fast off, we'll just tumble off?
Fuck you Willet.

I used to admire Indiana, for having the guts to stand up to the rest of the American Time Construct, and do their own incredibly complex and cryptic to the rest of the country thing. But then they folded a few years ago, and we all go gamely along. So fuck you Indiana too. Cowards. Now I have to admire Arizona, and we all know that isn't going to happen.

I should just go back to bed.

One marginally cool side effect: Twitter just told me it was not working because some users were experiencing "frozen timelines". Alright. I'm down with that.

Please explain your technique for puking while driving. (I have a vague recollection of you talking about puking while driving, if that wasn't you, perhaps you could hypothesize on the best way to puke while driving).

I am going to answer this question now instead of waiting, because apparently the whole Formspring team is being arrested and the site was a social experiment where they were going to reveal everyone's true identities on April 1st, (http://www.benkling.com/uploads/formspring.html)
Which is exactly the sort of thing I would do if I had any programming cajones at all, I kind of think its awesome. But it means the site might come down, and this is really important advice that might save your life one day.

Step 1: Never clean your car. Ever. Keep every fast food bag or target bag or plastic bag you took your lunch into work with today in the car.

Step 2: When you start to get that salivating acid flavor in your mouth, and you know you're going to start vomiting, thrust your hand into your not fit for human transportation backseat and if you've done step 1 correctly, you will find a bag immediately.

Step 3: Do not take your eyes off the road. But slow down to 50 or so, and make sure you are in a lane that doesn't require you to do anything but go straight. This method is not recommended for hilly areas. You should pull over if you're in West Virginia. Also maybe move somewhere where you are in less danger from mountain trolls.

Step 4: Hold the bag up to your mouth with as tight a seal as possible. Please note: this method may make you inadvertently good at blowjobs.

Step 5: Do not remove it until you have successfully evacuated your stomach at least three times.

Step 6: Write about it on the internet so everyone can read about your mad skillz. And that you are a public menace.

Edit -Oops, I forgot Step 7: Ignore step 1 when it comes to puke bags.

Ask me anything

PPS: Alright, so apparently that's a fake news story about Formspring. But I thoroughly encourage the team to consider doing this. Please. Pretty please.

See, I like your questions because it gives me a reason to feel useful at 2 am?

Okay, so I'm coming up to Cleveland soon for a wedding, can you suggest places for lunch and brunch? Thanks!:)

Oh brunch. Always a great source of aggravation for me.

Flying Fig has a great brunch. They have this amazing drink called a Hot Russian which is basically a White Russian with enough espresso in it to make you believe that maybe that dream you had only a few hours ago really was your great American novel, and also maybe you would like to go back to the hotel room, get more drunk and have more sex, because who cares its Sunday and you're half trashed already so fuck this reception. Maybe I should point out I mostly drink at brunch.

Or you could be cooler and less degenerate and go to Li Wah for dim sum.

As to lunch...lunch lunch lunch. I love LeLoLai's, which is a bakery not a restaurant. But the Cuban sandwiches are amazing, and the coconut macaroons are addictive.

The Beer Engine on Madison in Lakewood is great for slightly more interesting burgers and sandwiches. Bar atmosphere once again, but friendly. Like, where you go if you are a bartender in Lakewood and wake up at 3pm and need sustenance. Really great chips.

Sahara Restaurant on Lorain Ave is great Lebanese food. They open at 12pm. The waitresses are girls you wish were your best friends.

You'll notice these are all West Side places. Sadly, if I'm driving all the way out to the East Side for lunch, it's Hot Sauce Williams all the way.

What do you think of the Clash of the Titans remake?

I never saw the original so I don't have any nostalgia kicking in, or defensiveness.
I'm a fan of giant monsters and winged horses.

My only two worries are these:

1) 300 SUCKED as a movie. And I get real tired of special effects real quick if the plot doesn't hold up. I'm getting a 300 vibe from that whole glowing toga thing in the trailer.

2) Krakens are giant squid, which is terrifying. Squid have beaks, large nasty ones which make them resemble horrifyingly crazy mutant water emus.

I am EXTREMELY disappointed the Kraken, one of my favorites, has no beak and in fact looks like it needs dentures. Shark teeth? Really? Teeth are not imposing on a large creature unless they are huge and defined. BEAKS are huge.

I will totally be going to see this with The Boy. But my expectations will be low.

Write a poem

Beginnings

Once upon a time
In a galaxy far far away
On a distant shore
It was a dark and stormy night
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

A screaming comes across the sky
This is the saddest story I have ever heard
It was a wrong number that started it
Through the fence
124 was spiteful
I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man
There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.
The cold passed reluctantly from the earth,
It was the day my grandmother exploded.
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen
The mechanical unicorn opened it's eyes.

Do you believe artificial sweeteners/preservatives are ruining our bodies and lives? (paraphrased because formspring ate the question, with obviously no concern for FDA regulation)

The first time I read Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, there was one single little sentence that stuck with me. It made the most impression on me, shining past all the other poverty death destruction despair ect.

"How could they know that the pale blue milk they bought around the corner was watered, and doctored with formaldehyde besides?"

See, you say "Um, because it was blue?" But you also say "how stupid to think sticking leeches on you would cure a disease!" and then you eat an apple that's been genetically engineered to stay crisp for thirty days. Cheese that comes pre-shredded and pre-colored. Butter that isn't butter. Or you fry some salt and preservative infused turkey in your non-stick Alzheimer pan, while in the microwave your rice in a bag with flavoring is steaming away. You rub aluminum play-doh smelling salts into your lymph nodes and smear your lips with paint that smells and tastes like air freshener. And later you'll breathe in traffic and smog through your windows like you have every day of your life, while you wipe down every surface in your house with a powerful disinfectant that isn't harmful to your cats at all, promise.

I have it on good authority alcohol kills lots of other things. In addition to hope, I mean. Just saying.

Ask me anything

Some Crazy Mumblings

I don't have anything specific to say right now, except that it was a lovely warm 55 degree day. I was inside all day working of course, but I opened all the windows. Rabbit Cat knew what was up, and immediately claimed all the windowsills as hers for Spain. Mouse Cat looked very confused, like she didn't remember freedom or maybe it was memories of being stuck outside all summer living off my parents porch, thin like a serpent, that clouded her eyes with fear. At first she jumped up to the window gladly, then she scurried away scared under my legs. Coward. By the end of the day they had both chilled the fuck out. I think everyone in Cleveland had chilled the fuck out. It took us a minute. We were confused.

My head is full of ANTM. I keep thinking about how Raina totally looked better before when she was Denise Richards. But then they dyed her hair black and it made her eyebrows look ogreish instead of unique. I think Gabrielle will probably be annoying, but do really well. Nuaduah totally got screwed on her eyebrows. You don't take a bald girl who is naturally dark haired and therefore has a dark shadow on her skull, and then bleach her eyebrows unless you hate her. Also, her name sounds like something she made up to cope with the repression of her terrible cult days, like Zircha or Willowa. Like it's written in her own backwards language the cult children created to communicate secretly at night, chained to their beds. But anyway, those eyebrows are going to screw her and take away any softness she had.
Next week's recap will be longer. It's just that hey, first week, there's so many girls, who cares?
Also it's funny that either a) Tyra still uses Myspace or b)Tyra doesn't want to piss off Facebook. Fiercespace indeed.

I finally got out of the house on my lunch break today and took my time going to the store to buy maxi pads and motrin. What a winning combination. I thought to myself in the store, what else can I buy to make myself even more of a menstrual stereotype to the counter clerk? Acne soap? Check. Discounted Ben and Jerrys? Check. Big bag of Cracker Jack for a dollar? Check and mate. Only it turns out my bag of Cracker Jack only had 5 peanuts in it. 5. And my prize was a pencil topper with a picture of ants. What the hell is a pencil topper? Why would any kid in the world know what it is? Who still uses pencils? I think my hand would go into seizures and spasms if I tried to use a pencil for writing.

If I were a cute gay guy, I would get a tattoo of the Cracker Jack sailor and his dog. Their names are Sailor Jack and Bingo. I didn't make that up, it's on the bag. Some trust fund kid out there tells people his family is the Cracker Jack family. He should have that tattoo for sure. Ungrateful bastard.

What else? Today none of my customers are listening to me. I say "do you have your reference number?" and they say "blah blah blah everything under the sun about this case except the reference number" and I say "do you have your reference number?" and they say "what?" and I say "your reference number sir" and then they read it to me. All day. It's not normally like that, so either the whole country has gone deaf from some crazy air pressure systematic workings, or I'm going hoarse. Hoarse with really really quiet warm weather joy. See, look how optimistic a worker I am! You should hire me to never have to interact with customers again.

The Boy keeps making me rap CDs in some attempt to get me to stop playing Mountain Goats every time he's in the car with me. It won't work forever dude. Drake and me, we have our limits. Because he is named after a duck, and he probably chose that name. But I still like when people make me stuff.

I wanted to clean out my whole house this weekend, but I forgot I made plans on my off day tomorrow to drive up to Marty's and have him look at my bike and eat dinner and things. Then I'm working Saturday and Sunday, and then Monday will be the only day I see The Boy. So probably nothing at all will get cleaner, which has been the case this whole winter. The problem is not my schedule. It can't be. I hardly see half my friends, I see my boyfriend only a few days a week. No, the problem is definitely me and my inability to do anything at all whatsoever responsible on a day I also have to work. Or on a day I have off.

It will never happen, but I wonder what kind of person I would become if I never had to work. Would I eventually morph into someone who cleaned because she had enough time, which is to say nothing but time? Maybe I just need way more space than other people, my motivations are moving at epochal rates. Or maybe I would just become dirtier and crazier and start sewing jackets for my cats out of layers of foil.

Finally, there is the Space Cougar.

ANTM Cycle 14: Briefly Briefly We Fly Into the Light

TEAM R.E.N.

I'm not going to dwell long on what was obviously such a momentous night in my household. We were there, we all saw it together. Suffice it to say, Tyra's long cherished dream of designing, engineering, and making over the perfect fake tv model has been realized. The moment R.E.N. stepped into the spotlight and over Perez Hilton's prostrate body, boldly staring down her organic competitors while her Creator glowed proudly above her, the the television/gossip blog world was changed forever, as well as several hotly debated areas of physics and molecular biology. Also she's vegan.

This will be a Cycle to remember for generations.



Now, how the hell do I get Top Model Canada and Top Model Germany on my TV? Are they on Netflix? Will The Boy allow me to use his Netflix to watch Heidi Klum in Tyra's role if I explain what a massive hole Project Runway has left in my psyche?

Sometimes I go outside, but generally only on my way to other covered buildings

So the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo is awesome. For a zoo. What I mean by that is that the zoo is free on Mondays to people who live in the county, to reward them for living in Cuyahoga County and having asthma since birth. Also apparently Hinckley Township, though I have to say I think that's bullshit. If you're going to let those guys from Hinckley in, you might as well just start letting everyone in. Have some standards Zoo.

The Boy and I went this Monday, attempting to get some sunshine and also to make up for the disaster that was seeing Brooklyns Finest on Sunday afternoon, a terrible movie that should ruin the careers of everyone involved except Don Cheadle. Assuming Richard Gere and Wesley Snipe had careers left. On an unrelated note, so I always try to refer to the guys I date by nicknames on here right? Except when I hate them. Then I use last names. The Boy has mentioned he would like an upgrade to his nickname. His suggestion was Captain Awesomeness. I'm hesitant. It's a little long, frankly. I like The Sentinel, but then it sounds like I'm dating a crazy alien robot guardian, which I'm not opposed to but, melodramatic much? I'll think about it. People are so demanding.

This is a monkey who wants to eat that small boy's skull. He's thinking "I could feed my family off your body for a week." The boy is thinking "That monkey will be my friend!" Listen kid, monkeys are not your friends. If you ever come across a monkey in the wild, you should run, because there are probably 20 more of them in the trees and they will use you for dodgeball practice and then brunch. Your only hope is to offer them a trade, where you lure your other small defenseless friends into their trap in exchange for your own life. Growing up is hard in monkey country.

When you were little, the zoo was awesome cause you could go there entirely guilt free. Now as an adult you go, and it's a constant battle of conscience and justification, glee and guilt. Especially in the primate house. All the large animals are either pacing like broken records or lying around comatose. The glass is scratched up and dirty. We went to the wolf enclosure, which is this nice really large yard, and there was one wolf pacing furiously up and down against the window, while the other wolves looked on sympathetically and went about their wolfie business of digging in the snow. He was the broken wolf. The Boy said he needed his reset button pushed.

Its not so bad with the small animals, maybe cause you look in their eyes and know they're just thinking about how to hide in this tree better. Of course, this particular day I think we came around feeding time, because the red panda was clawing at the enclosure door exactly like my cat claws at the cabinet. So all the pacing was possibly accentuated by that. I know all the reasons zoos are great for protecting species and educating people and bringing unimaginable joy to little kids who are just thrilled they can see a monkey in person. I'm a fan of the zoo. I'm just saying, some of the magic is gone when you're older and able to project.

I feel like wallabies are the white tailed deer of Australia. Really cute, really destructive pests. I am still terrified of them though. Like, they will kick my face in terrified. This little guy is in the Australian Walkabout Experience, or whatever they call that place. It's a whole little corner meant to look like Australia, only Australia circa 1929 without the whores and drinking. Also, inexplicably there is a giant plaster tree with a ship's mast growing out of it, squat in the middle of the park. It looks like they acquired it when the sets for Hook were being sold off. Assuming I am a little kid, am I supposed to believe that ship was washed up in the middle of continent by a tsunami, and then the tree grew up below it, hoisting it into the air as a symbol of the impermanence of man? Cause I will, if you tell me to. I did appreciate learning about the giant fences sprawling across the continent to keep dingos out, and that it's all repurposed scrap metal, like a massive Mad Max style barricade. Maybe Australia is permanently stuck in 1929.


Oh, but the zoo is still fun and pleasant. It's still a good place to wander around with a date, avoiding large school groups, sipping coffee while the lions sun themselves. It's beautiful and grandiose and peaceful. More intellectually stimulating than just watching Planet Earth reruns. It's got a public purpose, and a sentimental one, and it reminds you to feel things in your soul even if they are not the best things. You can't go to the zoo without being reminded of your own selfishness, but then it gives you opportunities to ask for forgiveness. Mostly by donating money, but also with appreciation.



PS the other great thing about going to the zoo is if you don't have kids, there are a ton of other people's kids to entertain you with their kidness. But you don't have to take them home. In fact, it's encouraged that you don't.

If I Were to Ever Get a Tattoo, It Would Probably Be Something About the Stockyards

I know I come off as highly opinionated about a lot of different strange things. Sometimes at bars or parties or on buses, I will occasionally shout about topics with my outdoor voice. And I may or may not have threatened to break up with a boy because he didn't like Finding Nemo and therefore had no heart.

But when it comes to actual things worth having opinions about, I fully admit my inadequacy to tackle this topic. I will, because I love you, but please do not yell too much at me because your doctoral thesis was about how people who idolize Fitzgerald are ruining American literature. My doctoral thesis is currently about Should I continue watching American Idol even though ANTM is back on, because I already started that shit. So, you win by default.

In no particular order, here are ten books that I think of as the quintessential Americana.

1) To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
2) The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger,RD.
3) The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
4) The Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
5) The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
6) O Pioneers! by Willa Cather
7)The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
8) On the Road by Jack Kerouac
9) A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
10) Beloved by Toni Morrison

I know these are all novels about American History now. But whether or not you like the American character in Tropic of Cancer, it rings true. Selfish, decadent, decrepit, soul seeking, confused, drunken, weeping, whoring, desperate, evil, futile, beauty in our faults, murder for ourselves, clawing our way from the fields, disappointing our forefathers True. History of the Empire True.

My favorite American short stories (which I think are harder to write when they are truly memorable, like ships in bottles) are by Flannery O'Connor, Fitzgerald, Hawthorne, and Asimov. Yes, I'm counting him. I claim him for country.

And the quintessential American short story winner is The Lottery by Shirley Jackson. I would like to have that story tattooed on my back, scroll-like.

PS I would have Margaret Atwood's "Rape Fantasies" tattooed on my torso and inner thighs, but she's Canadian, so you know.

Ask me anything

True Story

The Dinner Party of Doom! (part 2)

So you know how there are some people that have aspirations? Like, they really enjoy something, so they try to actually get good at it? This girl Laura is so aspirational, she actually throws dinner parties for 14 people at a time, because she says she ENJOYS it. The nerve.

And then she actually makes like, a ton of food. For OTHER people. Just to watch them enjoy it. I know, it's beyond comprehension. I've been trying to wrap my head around it now for days. So she like, sends out invitations in advance and plans this really large menu that involves really time consuming prep. She shops for weeks ahead of time. And does she do the decent thing and demand money or some other form of material payment for all this work? Of course not. Does she politely wait until everyone has shown up before starting to chop vegetables and assemble stuff? As if. She does like, all this annoying cooking work ahead of time. Someone needs to stop her before she hurts herself.

Unbeknownst to you, the party had collectively consumed 7 bottles of red wine within the first hour. So we will all live to 97. It's a scientific fact.

The biblical Samurai of Death by Red Wine, illustrated in a way that says "look, I'm an actual artist deigning to use your artfully placed coloring books. You all are inferior."

This is, by the way, the expression most people make when talking to Jere.

Really yummy Beef Bourguignon. I would sort of like to have an entire plate of this again, right now please. With a side of egg noodles.

Our lovely and way overqualified for her job cook, Laura. I didn't get a shot of our hostess Christie, but lets just say that the rug and sofa set in her living room would make you weep with correctly hued decorating joy.

The chicken mole was easily my favorite dish that night. It was so chocolaty, it was eating dessert for dinner. But that was later of course. After she added the chocolate. I couldn't take a picture of that because I was too busy eating it a lot.

So I think lots of girls, no lets say every girl, has moments of such complete adorableness, that we should all probably have paparazzi around us to capture that, so when we're old and considered completely out of the game we can hang these pictures somewhere on our bedroom vanity mirrors and remember how young and sweet we were.
This is Lauren, having one of those moments.

Chocolate peanut butter cream cupcakes. What.

Finally, and having nothing really to do with the dinner party but being really important nonetheless, at the exact moment that this picture below was taken, the song playing in the bar was Candlebox. It's now recorded for posterity. Long live the West Side of the Flats, refusing to remain relevant for 20 years and counting.

The Incident

By Steven Tabutt

If Mean Girls Were a Disney Film...

yanked from Jezebel



I have always thought Sleeping Beauty would be a Regina George. Boo, you whore.

This American Idol Thing, Right?

Alright, as a last ditch effort to save some small part of my dignity before I get really into this, let me just point out that I have never watched a season of American Idol, and have kept myself chaste from Ryan's cold dirty stare.

But see, now I have a DVR.
Also, look, I know I've got my reality show sins. Top Chef. Tool Academy. America's Next Top Model. Which by the way starts next week (thank fucking god), so I've been thinking of this Idol thing as just a pre-game show, you know. The warm up to the apocalypse.

So I started watching Idol this year when they hit the top 24. There is no point to watching anything before the actual performances start, at least unless you really enjoy feeling superior to the rest of the country and watching people cry in pathetic and heartbreaking ways. Which I DO, but two hours straight of it, and at that point you either hate yourself, or you're getting off on it in an inappropriate way. It's deliberate I bet, a way to get your ego pumped enough so that you'll feel completely okay judging these people when voting hits, even though the worst of them is still more talented than you. Except for...well we'll get to that. C'mon America, you OWN these people, separate the wheat from the chaff you fat couch bound motherfuckers. Remember, you saw her during the auditions before they picked her! It's like you discovered her yourself! You are prescient, honestly. Your contestant's fate is completely dependent on your support, you god blessed children of the sweet green flatland.

How does anyone watch this show without DVR? First of all, it's on three nights a week. And each show is like, two hours long. And 1 hour 15 minutes of that is commercials. This is not the fucking Olympics guys. There are 12 people each show, they sing like a minute thirty worth of song and then boom, commercial break again, between EACH ONE. They are just fucking with you. Or they think you have a real bladder control problem. Maybe you are drunk enough that you do. Maybe they figure all the drinking you would have to do to get through 2 hours of this shit, for the past nine years, has fucked with your soft insides enough that they are willing to be a little merciful. Or Kara has to take a break every ten minutes to refresh her spray tan. Who is this Kara creature and why is she on here? Every time she opens her gaping maw, she looks around for approval, like an Italian aunt. "I like you!" "You're dirt, but I like you!" "I hated this, but I like YOU." Over and over again, like Paula's soul was implanted in her and looped. She is every girl you have ever met in a bar downtown that you hated.


Oh I criticize but shit, I think total? I've watched about 4 hours of this show. The Boy usually calls me just as it's finishing, and then I feel even more dirty because he wants to talk about other things, and I just seriously want to talk about song selection. I wonder if he's going to be okay when Top Chef starts and I no longer have shame holding my tongue.

I have opinions about this show, guys. And here they are.
First, the boys. There are only two boys I like, and I don't really like either of them much, but they are the only ones who don't make me want to never touch a dick again. Wait no, there's three. But the third one is David Cassidy, so I don't think it counts. Everyone else is a) flat b) trying to be Josh Groban or c) has a mullet. To be fair, Mullet Guy sorta has a Marty McFly vibe going on, and I'd like to believe it's deliberate, but I don't think it's as deliberate as it should be. There's some guy from Atlanta who wore tails last week, and needs to be a senate page, really it's his true calling. There's Egghead Latino, as he's being referred to on the interwebs. Everyone's a big fan of him, but he smacks of Wannabe Fallout Boy to me, and I think if there's any justice in the world, he will fall. He sang "Sugar We're Going Down" the first week, and I thought to myself, if the Barenaked Ladies singer ever dies in a fiery not at all intentional plane crash, this guy has a job for life. Also I just looked it up and the Barenaked Ladies singer just quit the band last year, so hello?

But here is my top pick guy: Lee. I have nothing deep to say about him. He does songs I hate, but he's adorable, and not singing old R&B songs, so win.



There a rumor that this year the producers really want a girl to win, presumably because Clay and Adam really burned them. And I think they have stacked the deck accordingly, because the guys are generally exactly what you find if you searched youtube for "High school band doing cover of John Legend." The girls aren't much better. There's a stylish Cuban mami church singer who sang Creed, so GOODBYE I don't care how awesome your little outfit was. There's that blonde girl from One Tree Hill who played the piano this week, though she played it so slow, it made me think maybe she also learned to play the piano this week. Some sixteen year old lounge singer named Katie, who is like, the new Rickie Lake.

Oh, but there are three girls I love. LOVE.

First - Jewel. Totally the best singer. Charmingly reticent to the whole Idol thing. Looks at Ryan like he's on crack. Only pays attention to Simon's criticism, which oh my god, the stereotype about him was completely correct. It's like I've been hearing about this mythical Simon creature for years, and only now I can admit that yes, he is the only real person in this whole show. Everyone else is a hologram. Even Ellen. Ellen looks like she fought a little before they took her, like she was hiding out in the Costa Rican jungle, which is my explanation for her safari outfit this week.



Next - Jewel. But Jewel after she got rich. I like the Gray Haired Wonder, cause at least she's trying to actually have a sound, even if it is the same sound coming out of every British recording studio right now. I suspect she's a good front woman. She's going to get a recording contract out of this either way.



And finally: Siobhan. The girl everyone knew in high school who had the lead in every play ever done in that cold creaking auditorium. Rachel from Glee. Did I mention I love that show? It was only a matter of time before the Idol got me I guess. This is her performance from the week before, cause she did Aretha this week, which was okay, but she looked like a complete tool doing it and you knew she did it only so she could hit a high note. I think I just like her because I like the idea that not all those high school drama club stars end up getting fat and married in Illinois somewhere. Though the mere fact that no one bothered to make a youtube video of her actual performance is disconcerting. All of you East coast fat cat liberals need to get off your high horses and vote for her so everyone's dreams everywhere stay marginally intact.



So there are my honest favorites. And then there is Haley. Haley is not a girl or a boy. It is a Haley, the first completely self powering self propelled karaoke machine/wii. It got eliminated this week, I just found out while searching for this video. I wonder if they will repurpose it to make lattes.



If you want to waste an hour of your time looking at the disintegration of our gene pool, here are the other performances.
I'm sorry I did this to you. To all of you.