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Alcohol Is NOT My Friend

My Easter Sunday was spent nursing a killer hangover from too many Stoli Vanilla and Diet Cokes on Saturday night (along with a freebie shot of God-only-knows-what that the bartender convinced me to do with him.)

I think getting older combined with an already low tolerance is to blame.  I only had a total of 5 drinks, and even though I was feeling happy I wasn't falling-down drunk. (I even ate a cheeseburger and french fries afterwards, which, at 4 am, is great for the figure!)

Sunday I woke up with a dizzy head and queasy stomach that didn't go away until almost 5 pm, and could barely stand up straight, let alone leave my bed.  Thank goodness for MTV's marathon of the 2nd season of "The Ashlee Simpson Show!"

At least I didn't vomit, although I think I am going to lay off the sauce for a while and stick to my customary 2 drink minimum.  That should make for a fun Spring!

Teens Are Gross

I apologize in advance for this entry.  But I am bored and easily amused today.

As I think I have mentioned before, as part of my job, I receive and peruse many teen fashion magazines.  This morning, as I was flipping through one of the lower-end titles, I came across a feature called "Guy Confessions" which included this repulsive little tale: (I added a few of my own comments in boldface.)

I know it sounds kinda gross, but it's become a football team ritual.  After practice, we head to the locker room, shower up (at this point I am thinking this sounds kinda hot, but next comes...) and then have a farting contest.  (Waah, waaaah.)  One of the linebackers, Big Al, always wins.  He weighs about 300 pounds and can really rip one out.  (Jeebuz, 300 pounds and still in high school?  That is seriously some next-level shit, right there.)  I was determined to beat him.  So all day I ate things that I knew would give me gas -- baked beans, broccoli, cabbage and tons of Taco Bell.  (Run for the border, indeed!) The competition had begun and I was primed to cut the loudest fart ever.  Big Al went first and, as usual, it was a thunderous roar.  The pressure was on.  (Is your heart racing yet?  No?! Mine neither.)  Wrapped only in my towel because I didn't want to muffle the sound, (again ruining a perfectly hot moment for no good reason) I lifted one leg in the air and pushed the gas out.  Imagine my surprise when instead of a fart, I actually dropped a turd.  (YOUR surprise?  I bet Big Al and the other guys were pretty shocked as well!) I was so embarrassed that I pretended to be sick for the big game the next day. (No pretending necessary -- you're pretty sick, dude!)

Morning Freebie

Today on the way to the office I stopped into a small pastry shop nearby to pick up a chocolate twist and a cup of coffee.  I frequent this shop a couple times a week, and a few weeks ago the woman in front of me was being a royal coont and giving the counter girl a hard time about something really important, like the size of her espresso or something like that.  Like I said, typical New York self-centered, entitled coont.

Since I was in a good mood that day, and this particular counter girl is actually good at her job (compared to the others that work there, who tend to operate with the speed and brain power of a retarded turtle) I made it a point to smile and say something like "Hang in there!" right in front of the douchebag, who probably didn't even notice, but whatever.  I also dropped a bill into the tip cup.

Fast forward to this morning.  The same counter girl happened to be working and I made my usual order -- chocolate twist and a large decaf with half & half, for those who care about these things.  There seemed to be something a little unusual about the way she handed me my bag, but thought nothing of it until I got to my desk and found that she had snuck me an extra pastry!  Awww.  Thanks, counter girl!

Of course, since I just scarfed down BOTH chocolate twists and will now feel even guiltier and fatter today than usual, you could use this as an argument that no good deed goes unpunished. 

And speaking of good deeds (and punishment)...America, please, I beg of you:  get rid of this talentless twit. 

About Face

Fuck you, Bishop Robert Brom!  Your lame backpedaling is too little, too late.  Although I do not currently practice Catholicism, things like this make me ashamed that I was raised Catholic and attended parochial school from grades 1 - 12.  One would be hard-pressed to find a bigger bunch of judgmental hypocrites than these assholes.  (Not counting the Republican Party, of course.)

>Bishop apologizes for barring Catholic funeral of gay nightclub owner [SignOnSanDiego.com]

D.E.B.S.

I went to a screening of a film called D.E.B.S. last night.  It wasn't bad for a freebie -- it had camp, comedy, action and best of all...LESBIANS!  Kind of Charlie's Angels-meets-Showgirls.

One of the film's stars, Jordana Brewster, was there.  She was cute...very petite and super skinny, but I guess you have to be to get Marky Mark to fuck you.  As we left the theater, my friend and I were actually walking next to her as the paparazzi snapped their pictures, so look for my frowning mug in the next US Weekly!

Oh No, She Din't? Oh Yes, She Did!

Lil' Kim was found guilty yesterday of being a big fat liar.  Her perjury stems from a case involving yet another rap shooting at the studio of hip hop radio station Hot 97FM (located a few blocks from my office) and she faces up to 20 years in jail.  Sentencing is sceduled for June 24.

Hmm, I wonder if pasties come in prison-issue orange?

>Lil' Kim Found Guilty Of Lying To Grand Jury, Investigators [MTV.com]

Bethesda Fountain

bethesda1,
originally uploaded by notoriousjdt.

I am obsessed with the angel statue at the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. The fountain marks the exact center of the Park, and I spent some time taking a bunch of photos of the statue while I was there scouting locations for an upcoming shoot. I also harrassed an innocent duck. More images in the photo album here or on Flickr.

Another Reason To Love Amy Sedaris

(...as if "Strangers With Candy" wasn't enough!)

The following genius quote is from a diary Amy kept for the latest issue of art rag Black Book (whose staff, incidentally, includes an editor with whom I had some of the best sex of my life ...twice!):

November 17, 2004
Read the book Sickened by Julie Gregory all day long. Left my apartment once to buy greens for Dusty. Turned on the TV for 3 minutes. How can a reality show have outtakes? Had a dream where the older me was shaking the younger me, age five, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I don’t know why I would dream that—if anyone should be apologizing it’s the five-year-old.

Ha!  Damn straight!  She also references this documentary which I simply MUST see:  retarded reporters covering the Republican and Democratic political conventions. Brilliant!

[via the hilarious Goldenfiddle.com]

Models, Bitch!

In case you missed last week's fierce episode of "America's Next Top Model,"  here's what happened, courtesy of PlanetSocks.com and yours truly.