Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I know that I could be strung up by my toenails for being a Serious Music Librarian and admitting to my proclivities for pop music...so it's a good thing that I haven't had a pedicure in awhile. Because I have to tell you that I am LOVING the stank out of the new Manic Street Preachers song. It's one of those songs that Virgin Radio plays approximately every 17 minutes and I still love it every single time.
Bonus that Nina from The Cardigans is a guest vocalist (although I'm hating the fact that she resembles a 2nd season Felicity in the video).
Monday, April 23, 2007
Fast forward fifteen minutes when I receive a happy little notice telling me to show up at the Masonic Temple on April 23rd. Again I scream.
Fast forward 48 hours later when all of my friends punk out on me because they're all too cool for skool and refuse to be a part of any Masonic activities. I want to scream.
Fast forward another 24 hours when my new best friend Steven agrees to come with me even though he had not seen an episode (sidebar: he's now a happy addict).
Fast forward to today. Steven and I skipped out of work at 4:45 to run over to the studio and get in line. At the moment that we were exactly halfway there God decided to open the heavens and test our love. The rain was literally coming down in sheets. I felt like I was in Thailand. Unfazed, we travelled the underground as far as we could and when we surfaced again the downpour was no longer coming at us sideways. We pressed on to MTV headquarters. It was when we started to get in the company of leg-warmers and miniature sized hoodies that I knew we were close.
When we finally got there. IT. WAS. MAYHEM.
Broken umbrellas. Screaming teenagers. Burly bouncers.
We didn't get in. We had neither the tickets nor the VIP status.
It's okay Lauren, I still love you.
And at least now I can watch the finale with a glass of wine and a pack of twizzlers.
Yep, classy all the way.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Last week I bought these beautiful lily's to remind myself that a world did exist where the sun shone brightly and the ground consisted of more than gravel and pigeon shit. I bought them when they were still young and closed up and then Monday night, suddenly, as if lured out by Lauren Conrad's voice one of the blooms opened.
It was lovely.
The cat thought so too...hence the yellow blush I awoke to this morning.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
On the weekend I bought some tulips, not just because they were a lovely colour but because I needed SOMETHING, ANYTHING to get me out of my seasonal affective disorder funk.
I also turned on all the lights, played some Bob Marley and hiked up the heat. It still hasn't worked. Perhaps this weeks forecast will cure the blues...
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Please take back your crazy homeless ladies and give them a nicer place to sit than my little perch. Also, she left a whole wad of dirty kleenex out there and I would appreciate if you would come fetch them.
PS. I'm not yelling at you, you're still my big bad blonde mayor man and I love you.
PPS. Please tell me you're pulling out the Pride leathers again this year. Please.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I have a sick fascination with this show. It's kind of like if you got the chance to be invisible and lurk around the lives of boys. Because let's face it even though they are rich actors living in LA, dumb boys are still dumb boys.
Oh yah, that and Vince is hot. As stank.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Alas, the picture captured a scene moments before a bloody, bloody disfigurement took place.
I've taken the liberty of scanning the photo and circling said scene with a bold red circle here for my fellow gentiles in the crowd.
Aside from the little bundle of baby and the middle aged man holding its penis there are several things that I find fascinating in this picture. The fabulous curls on the man to the right, the clearly distraught woman in the trench coat and the plates on the lower right giving evidence to the fact that the picture taker is in fact standing within equal distance of the soon-to-be-severed penis and the infamous Bris Buffet.
Above all, I absolutely love the man in the upper left corner. Rubbing his temple, eyes closed, distraught look on his face...I feel for this man and would like to think that he is also a gentile witness to this ritual. It may be that it is the actual custom for all those in the room to look away while that little piece of pink flesh is being sliced off in the middle of the living room - but I prefer to think that while massaging his head he is questioning just how he got talked into coming to this event...and then he remembers...the latkes. Ohhh the delicious latkes, they'll get you through anything. Even a bris.