Being that it’s Friday and I don’t have too much to post about since other than feed my growing alcoholism, I don’t really do much (and I can only devote so many posts per week to g and t’s), I’ve decided to compile a list of things that have made me fall over laughing in the past week. This amalgamation of youtube videos and the like has most likely been viewed by you guys more than once, but I promise there are quite a few gems in here.
Aww, poor Eliot.
* if you look carefully enough at the comments under this one you’ll notice one that asks how much for his adoption. not even kidding. if this was my kid i’d increase his allowance with the number of hits this video gets. muahaha this is why i’m never having kids.
This just brings me back to my days of living off of York Rd and the numerous Bon’Qui Qui’s we would encounter on a daily basis. Oh Loyola….I miss chu.
You remember this little nug from his hilarious rant about things he hates? Well he’s back, and talking in-depth about birds.
Comedy skit about boys acting like girls.
If you hate everything a la the little nug from #4, you will also love this guy hating nature.
This lil puss in boots!
This wittle nug upset about not being a Single Lady
So today begins the period of time in my life we’ll call Hell. Everyone: sigh at once. That’s right, it’s payday. Now, while most of you may rejoice at getting paid (and don’t get me wrong, I do too) this marks the beginning of, how do you say it? Oh right. Budgeting.
Ugh, that just sent chills down my spine. Budgeting and I are about as close as two seventh graders at their first homecoming dance. (Well maybe not the impregnated coke-dealing seventh graders of today’s world, but back in ’99..) Anyway, we don’t get along. Of the 12 browser tabs I currently have open, 7 are relating to clothes and/or shoes and/or ways to buy these clothes and/or shoes.
Last night is a perfect example of how my flagrant habits and love of all things alcohol tend to repeatedly and without fail rape my wallet and immune system simultaneously with a final score of life: 1, Stef: 0. So Cameron comes to the city for a little bit of work training and a lot of Stef time and after the epic confusion that was 1575 Broadway versus 1585 Broadway and someone not having a cell phone because he took too many videos of the Yankees home opener we were fast on our way to Blockheads. Three of these margarita/tequila/corona nug bottle combinations later and I was on my way to black out city. No literally. I have never blacked out so fast in my life. ANYWAY. I went homeish, around 9:45, started watching Lost, and passed out at 9:47 on.the.dot.
Mexican Bulldogs
Last week, same story, different cast. Monday I went to dinner in TriBeCa, Tuesday I blacked out in the East Village slash Lower East Side, Wednesday was Pinot Noir overkill, Thursday we went to the Frying Pan and had a bucket of Coronas, and Friday was death via g and t’s at an old SoHo stomping ground. Nothing compared to the weekend, however, when we decided to go to Bostimore turned Bostiyork technically known as Boston to the rest of the English-speaking world. Being that I usually don’t sleep under normal conditions, my expectations were drastically sub-par when it came to my health and well-being after Saturday. However, it was an awesome trip, complete with some of the hardest laughing I’ve ever done. For example, would you or would you not burst out laughing if a random 40 year old man sent you a facebook message entitled “blissfully ignorant” saying that he stumbled upon your picture and that it took his breath away …literally, and that the only things to have taken his breath away thus far included the Grand Canyon and the birth of his niece? If this doesn’t make you want to reply with a/s/l/bbm pin I don’t know what would. (PS: this minute recap does not do the scenario justice at ALL but we were laughing at cmb’s expense since, you know, she is the 8th wonder of the world and everything).
Anywho, back to budgeting. Does anyone have any tips? I’m scareddd. What if I have to give up trivia? Or Brother Jimmys? Or DORRIANS?! Good God. HALP.
In an attempt to reduce the redonkulous amount of cheese in my current diet, I went to the grocery store last night. Grocery shopping is by far one of my favorite activities, although as is drinking and going out to dinner. So you know, they battle constantly for my undivided attention, and drinking usually wins. As does eating macaroni and cheese at the bar. ANYWAY. Point. Grocery store. Right. So, last night, I bought enough vegetables to feed a small African nation, and with my ever-green (EVERGREEN!) mindset, I plan on eating every last one of those broccoli florets. So, with a red pepper, some broc, and a few other vegetables I haven’t seen since Madge used to place a glass of MILK (gross) in front of me and not excuse me from the dinner table until it was all gone (oh HAY 1993), I decided to google stir fry recipes. Now, on the food network, which is probably my 2nd favorite channel other than HGTV, the first recipes that came up were:
Chicken Fried Steak
Chicken Fried Steak and Gravy
Deep-Fried Stuffing on a Stick
Aside from the many inappropriate that’s what she said jokes associated with anything including the words “stuffing” and “stick” what the F is going on here? Do they suggest purple drink as a “serve with” recommendation? I really don’t understand the concept of “chicken fried steak.” a) how do you “chicken-fry” anything and b) is it chicken or is it steak? If J. Simpson wasn’t too busy making an ass out of herself and portraying America as the deeply cultured society it’s internationally known and respected for, I’d have to ask her to weigh in.
Now, I for one obviously eat a lot of cheese, no refuting that. But the other contributor to my impending doom via bad cholesterol is fried food. Obviously anyone who’s been to a single Brother Jimmy’s has heard of their frickles (fried pickles..come on people!) and I for one eat them every single time I go there. Which, unlike Dorrian’s has proven to be usually only once a week. This presents quite an interesting point, as I for one do not have a huge boner for pickles, or any other dried sometimes vegetable all the time phallic symbol floating around in a jar full of weird yellowy-greenish liquid. However, you fry it, my taste buds start to dance around like the cast of The Gods Must Be Crazy when coke bottles start falling from the sky. You could fry anything and I’d eat it. You could probably fry Oreo and I’d have a bite. Ew. I immediately retract that statement. But, if you add horseradish….
Anyway, point of blog post (is there one? nahh). I decided this past weekend to stop force-feeding (and by force I mean completely by choice) myself cheese, in all capacity. Now, hold your horses, I don’t mean I’m going to entirely live my life without cheese forever, I simply mean that in the mean time a little Draino for my arteries via veggies and fruit might not be the worst idea. Also, even though eating healthy might be about as fun as having your ex-girlfriend featured on Barstool Sports as smokeshow of the day, it might be a little more wallet-friendly. Although that macaroni and cheese at the bar idea is going nowhere…fast.
I think having a designated day for youtube video screening is about as beneficial as cancer. Not that I don’t find it fun and a cute organizational tool when my friends’ blogs devote certain days to awkward Wednesdays for example…it surely brightens my day. However, I tend to find slash friends tend to send me funny clips on days that aren’t Tuesday, and I feel the need to share them on a less intermittent basis. Chu dig?!
So, I give you, Things I Hate, which fellow reader V (haaay sup) had on her wall the other day. If this doesn’t send you onto the floor laughing, please rectify your sense of humor, immediately.
In honor of our dear friend spitting out things he hatez, I have come up with my own list of pet peeves. For your perusal:
1. when people don’t text you back. um hellooo i didn’t just waste a text on you for no reason! (well technically I didn’t waste anything hay sup unlimited texting). get back to me now or lose me as a friend forever. yust yoshin. but no seriously, big x marks the spot against chu.
2. dogs with 3 legs. I know this is a terrible thing to hate and its probably not their fault that they have 3 legs, but its so upsetting. Thats like praying for rain (on your wedding dayyyy) just so that other people can be miserable. Ok terrible analogy but you get the point. It may be more akin to being really really ugly and going out in public. Not that any dog is ugly (thewe awl wittwe piggays!!) but its just upsetting to society I think. Take one for the team and leave your 3-legged dog at home. Or hay maybe don’t eat its 4th leg for lunch next time*
*inside joke being that one of my old roommates had a 3-legged dog and everyone joked around that she ate its 4th leg. Hopefully she won’t ever read this because I’m pretty sure that was an inside joke she was never equally involved in. But I guess the rest of the stuff we did to her face was probably worse and she got the point then. So read on, Jess!
3. people who are overly hygienic and like, shower all the time. Why waste the water? I think since Easter, I’ve taken 2.5 showers and I feel fine.
4. People who say you have to finish that! there’s sober/hungry kids in India. Like really bro? You want me to Fedex them the last 4 sips of my Budlight now or later?
Sidenote: last night at Bro Jim’s I ordered a quesadilla (can you say cheeeeeeeeese) and couldn’t finish it due to the copious amount of Frickles I ate 5 minutes prior and decided to wrap my leftovers up. Then I decided to throw them out solely for the purpose of not having to carry them around the rest of the night. Little did I know the night ended 10 minutes later when I fell asleep in a cab on the way home. SICK. I could be eating half a chicken quesadilla right now as opposed to salivating over the Chipotle I plan on eating for lunch. life: 1, stef: 0.
5. People who refuse to come out of the closet. Come onnnn, we know you’re gay. we love that you one day will be gay. just save everyone the hassle of second-guessing your sexuality and come on out. Ricky Martin did it (although I was under the impression that “She Bangs” counted as coming out of the closet 10 years ago), you can too! And don’t worry about Grandma, just cause she’s senile doesn’t mean she’s retarded. She knows already too. And finally, the beard that you date while you remain inside the closet will still be fat and ugly when you come out. Although you did just give her a gay best friend, so she’ll most likely forgive you quickly. Who doesn’t want one of those?!
6. Overly competitive people. like, chillax bro. Its just a game. And its most likely a drinking game, so put those beer muscles back in your white tee and call it a day.
7. Republicans. They really grind my gears. But should I ever choose to move to DC and appease Madge, I’m bound by my future career path to shut the f up.
8. When you don’t realize that you’re signing up for a lifetime’s worth of emails from some obscure store who’s deals I do not give a SHIIIIT about, and judging by the repetitive nature of these emails, not many people do. Example: Easter of 09 Chas and I were flying solo to Seattle to meet Madge and I of course was playing babysitter. Babysitter entailed a few games of gin rummy and carrying whatever belongings my mom deems necessary for Chas’ in-flight entertainment. Usually this consists of: a deck of cards (for aforementioned gin rummy), a book, two-thirds of Pfizer’s latest prescription inventions and a bottle of Mountain Dew. This trip, Chas decided to bring along his favorite hat. Upon being awoken from the deepest plane-sleep I’d ever had, I managed to get all of our belongings together and get Chas off the plane while forgetting the hat. BASICALLY demonstrating how I secure the worst child of the year award by a landslide. So, doing what any over-achieving guilt-ridden daughter would do, I ordered him another:
the hat.
Now you might ask, why must I order from this asinine (hehe) website? Well let me tell you: this website is Chas’ pride and joy. He gets the catalog, brings it into work, fills out the form, sends in a check, and acts like the 4 year old he really is inside a candy store when whatever he’s ordered gets delivered. So, in a feeble attempt to re-rack up as many points as humanly possible, I ordered it from there. GOOD GOD. Two emails a day is not even coming close to the justice my raped gmailbox deserves. UGH.
Anywho, I hope you enjoy the things I hate, because I sure as f don’t. Have a good weekend!
So Bean informs me that she is going on a detox diet. Of course, this makes me look back and reflect upon my life, and current diet. Without laughing, lets think about what I’ve eaten in the past 48 hours:
Dinner: 2 strawberry margaritas, a gin and tonic, macaroni and cheese, a stella
Late night snack: probably a grilled cheese but to be honest, I don’t remember
Wednesday, April 7th
Breakfast: inexistant, overslept and wanted to kill myself. (see previous day)
Lunch: a panini from fresh & co with turkey and 2 types of cheeses
Dinner: a bottle of pinot noir, goat cheese salad, steak sandwich with cheese, some ridiculous drink containing lychee (whatever lychee is, it needs to be expunged from the universe…GROSS)
Thursday, April 8th
Breakfast: a blueberry eggo waffle
Mid-morning Snack: oatmeal
Lunch: KEITH!!! sorry, very excited about that. umm where was I. oh right, lunch: pb&j sandwich (pam beesley and JIM!!!) mk where was I. oh right, sour cream and onion chips, diet peach snapple (sans rum), carrots, laughing cow cheese
Dinner: TBD, but probably something greasy and fried and with….CHEESE
areeeee we noticing a trend? My diet consists of 4 main food groups:
I would bet any cardiologist would probably send me to Jenny Craig and write me a prescription to NY Sports Club. Thankfully, I don’t have a cardiologist. And Chas uses his so much that he doesn’t have time to share. Also probably a bad sign that my cholesterol mildly mirrors my father’s and will continue to do so until I, myself, go on a detox diet. Ugh, even the thought of that makes me want to buy a bag of Cheeseburger-flavored Doritos and have them physically inserted into my arteries.
Good luck beanster, I’m here for you when you decide to come back to the cheesy-filled dark side!
Neeks – this post is for you, consider it an early bday pres And Pino: I cannot say or read the word asinine without thinking “my uncle touched my ass in nine places when I was younger.” Read: inside joke. Suck it.
The asinine (hehe) blogger. Or social media user. Everyone is friends with one, electronically at least. You know, the people who update twitter each time their eyelids flitter. Wow, I guess I need another cup of coffee, excuse my rhyming. Anywayz, chu know them, chu love want to suspend their social networking accounts, and have most likely defriended them in real life. So here goes, I’ve broken down these offenders into three categories:
1. The person who uses facebook like its a combination of twitter and foursquare. I have nothing against facebook stati (statuses?…whatever) You want to broadcast to the world that you’re in a different city, you no longer have a blackberry (who? me?) or you hopped on the Yankees bandwagon and finally in 2009 it paid off. Unless you are like me and you get a new pin number 9 times in 2 years, those status updates are few and far between and therefore fairly reasonable, rendering no apology nor facebook unfriending. However, if you are under the hilariously yet simultaneously annoying misconception that anyone GIVES a flying fuck as to your whereabouts, what color your nail polish is, how many times you’ve GTL’ed in the past 48 hours or what you’re doing at any given hour of the time or day, stop flooding my mini feed with your nonsense. Everyone knows the only true uses for facebook are stalk any and all guys you’ve ever hooked up with and assess with robe and gavel how much weight the obnoxious jappy bitches you went to high school with have gained since the last unofficial HS reunion the night before Thanksgiving. You are delaying this fun process and making it much more time-consumingly difficult to navigate through your BULLSHIT.
2. The twitter whore who thinks she is your only source for pop culture and current events updates. HELLO THAT’S WHY I SIGNED UP FOR TWITTER. Being that your username is not @cnn, @nytimes or @mashable, stop retweeting everything they do. SICK!!!!! THE IPAD CAME OUT! Everyone within a stone’s throw of a radio signal knows that, ass. Oh, you like social media? COOL every 13 year old with a twitter profile likes social media. Last time I checked, no one held a gun to my head and threatened me to join Foursquare. I do not need an update every four seconds about the latest social media trend. BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS SISTER. Oh and take the audacity with which you complain about your ever decreasing number of followers and SUCK IT. I know you think you’re all that and a bag of chips but SURPRISE! the world of twitter will survive without you !
3. The foursquare-twitter feed abuser. So you’ve discovered foursquare. Congratulations! You and hundreds of thousands of your closest friends can all have the same iPhone app. NEATO! You’ve also realized that it links to your twitter. Immediately and I mean imm.ed.i.ate.ly remove this link and prevent oversharing before it begins! Unless you are sharing something useful along with your check-in, or shouting something that you want your less-technologically advanced friends to be party to, there is NO need. If I want to know your whereabouts (again, refer to the first offender) I will find out. I will sign up for those push notifications and add you to my library of friends. HOWEVER, until I make that life-changing decision, do not flood my twitter homepage with your check-ins and cute “wow I haven’t gone running in forever!” isms. Nobody likes isms anyway. Bueller?
There you have it. This list was slightly although not really inspired by something my roommate Google Buzzed (I guess gchat-statused?) Good God social media is confusing (maybe I should revert to following abuser #2 and deal with it? nah I’d rather live under a buzz-free rock for the rest of my life)
Happy Wednesday! and another edition of Dating, Shmating and Other Ridiculous Stories will soon come your way I promise!
En route to a much needed catch up sesh via dinner with cmb, I found myself strolling through the meatpacking district. This awakens such fond memories of freshman/sophomore year of college when my winter and summer breaks would consist of the 10:48 pm train, a bottle of diet peach snapple and rum (I never really gave up on my dreams of becoming a bartender, let alone learning my lesson regarding the do-it-yourself g and t’s) and whichever fake ID’s lucky night it was.
Two of my friends became self-acclaimed club promoters for a good two years, which meant a series of things:
A) annoying facebook invites 7 days a week to clubs I’ve never heard of let alone ever imagined being inclined to walk into (especially if they’re gay clubs in Chelsea that before I’m allowed to drag my feet into I need to “take a walk around the block,” eat a hot dog bun, run into the bathroom of a nearby diner, rinse, lather and repeat until said bouncer was convinced of my “sobriety.” Why was I at a gay club in Chelsea you ask? Still trying to figure that one out. Along with the rest of the past 6 months of my life.)
B) never having to pay for alcohol (as long as your drink is [grenadine?] a combination of vodka/cranberry/orange juice/17 other people sharing the same scant resources)
C) never having to be actually 21 to enter said establishments. this was fun…til I turned 21. you know that age-old expression that you want what you can’t have? (oh hayyy we’re old friends) well s’true. I by no means gave up drinking on August 22, 2008 (HA) however the clout and glamour once associated with these posh clubs was as far as gone..RIP, I don’t miss you one bit. Thanks to Swallows, Murphys, Craigs, Edisons, Sullivans, and Greens, I’ve traded in plush couches and bottle service for rail gin, wooden bar stools and Taco Tuesdays.
Anyway, these 2 and a half years of Marquee-esque Lindsay Lohan drug-deal sightings were fun while they lasted. Until it was 2:30 in the morning and my ever so loving boyfriend at the time would drive into the city from northern NJ (what a gem) and drive me and my shwasted club promoting friends back to Pdubs (double gem). Shit got old…fast. A popped collor or 4 from Dorrian’s though…eeee lemme change ma undies.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t ask for much. A few bud lights over here, a few orders of frickles over there…maybe even an Oscar? I would settle for any one of these boys:
Happy Youtube Tuesdays~ (courtesy of Bean)
Anyway, I’ll be at the bar later on. No, not some swanky swank club in the meatpacking district but Lower East Side? sign. me. up.
And 
