Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Fix Yo'self Guurrl

I know its cliche but I'd have to say my biggest fear is dying an old lady alone with cats (I hate cats).  One that curses at children playing, whose hostile womb has long since sputtered its swan song to its abandoned ovaries.

A close second is camel toe.  I have an irrational fear of camel toe.  Actually, it's not entirely irrational.  I wear spandex more than most and I don't particularly like underwear.  But I'm also afraid that I don't actually know what qualifies as 'camel toe'.  I can get into the graphic details involving more than one crotchal crease and vaginal fold BUT I wont. Instead I just Urban Dictionaried that mess.  This is what I got:

"When her pants are so tight you can read her lips!"
"A vaginal wedgie("vedgie"), most commonly caused by tight pants that work their way into the crevices of the vaginia making a shape that clearly resembles a camel's toe"
"When a woman's clothing clings so tightly to her crotch that a viewer can make out the cleft between the labia, she is showing camel toe. So named for the similarity to the actual toe of a camel.  Sometimes applied to viewability of a man's cock through his clothes, but this is awkward."

And those were the mild ones.  I chose them so I didn't scare readers off before they saw these :   

A Camel's Toe                                                                         Camel Toe 

Proof that it can happen to anyone 

Anyway I don't want to end this post all negative Nancy.  So instead of living in fear I want to spread the word...(HALLELUJAH AMEN).  You know what you can do to prevent camel toe (wear underwear, loose clothing) but do you know what you can do to remedy the problem?  Courtesy of MF and eHOW here are some ways to remedy a camel toe problem should you find a bunch. Ways to Remove Camel Toe

IN CONCLUSION:   Please enjoy this musical tribute

Update:  A way to prevent CT is to buy the Cuchini....(actually sold):  Instant remedy! Never worry about camel toe again!

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

I Realize It's Wednesday But...

So Big C works on Irving Place and I used to always make him take me to this mediocre Chinese food place down the street.  It was a sort of reparation for forcing me (an overweight, bookish, and oh-so-awkward) middle schooler to meet co-workers and bosses at his company and wait for hours.....hours for him to decide that he had worked enough for that day.   I never fully understood why I liked this place so much.  It's got this gaudy decor with garish chandeliers and faux-wood panelling.  It's like those party venues which advertise on public access television and where you imagine the Gotti family has hosted every special occasion ever.

Tonight I find myself heading back there with AB and co.  But on my last visit (during the summer) I made a shocking revelation which would wondrously connect my current and middle-school self in some existential meaning-of-life way.  Two words.  Free wine.

I've never been someone who's huge on going out of my way for free things...I didn't take every free t-shirt, or dinner, or snack, or study break coffee in college.   But I LOVE me some wine.

Anyway if you're in the area.  The service is awful and the waiters aren't friendly...but the wine is free and if you're like me you'll want to check 'The Cottage' out.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Where the F@!& is the Thong Song....

So it's been a long weekend.  And this probably isn't a real post.  but please read on...or just look at the pictures....the pictures are good.

Reuniting with parisian-amis is always a good, random, sloppy, wine-soaked time.  Friday night started off with dinner during which I discovered a fun surprise on the way to the bathroom.  Photo.  Booth.  There are few things in life that make me happier than photos but photo-booths give me the instant glee and gratification of a child presented with ice cream.  After the second WC trip and the third glass of wine, I'd convinced AM and JM that there was no way we we leaving without a photo series.

Unfortunately I don't have the photos.  I'm sure AM got her hands on them but I will be peer-pressuring her for a scanned image to upload.  In any case, I'll describe.   First, we had to beat out a 9-year old who was the only other person at The Smith who hadn't out-grown the fun of photo-booths (except me) .  Then we had to fit three people in a space that is definitely designed for one maybe two but definitely not three.  The picture was not great.  especially for me.  You really can't see me because the booth was backlit.  And JM's huge head strategically stole the spotlight.  But, I digress.  More important than the bathroom photo-booth was the subsequent party.  It was CA's bday which is why the three of us made our way form union square to a basement fun house in Korea-town for Karaoke.

That's where things got really sloppy:  I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.


All in all it was a great night.  One beef.  Where the fuck was The Thong Song.  CA had plastic guitars and Hawaiian leis.  She had Karaoke...but I have never, never, been to a bar or bat that didn't have 'dumps like a truck' or 'thighs like what'.   No Sisquo.  There's something wrong with that.  Fortunately it didn't ruin my karaoke jam and they still had MJ (ABC and Thriller) and 'N'sync (I want it that way) and the owner are lucky cause I totally would've burned that bitch down. would've lit up like Siquo's effigy.

Also my computer keeps saying that Sisquo is spelled improperly and I'm convinced that it's only because it lacks the accent over the 'o'.  I'd never noticed that before and that somehow make me like him better.

AWSisquo = Sisqo
I want it that way = Backstreet Boys

Good day sir.
Mar 15
Me - I thought about that when I re-read it. And was like...I really want to know who is going to correct me...congratulations.

And Good day sir.
EditMar 15
AW - are you surprised? haha.

i was just hoping that i didn't come off too rude, but the 12 yr-old girl inside me had to object to anyone who confuses 'N SYNC with the lowly Backstreet Boys.
Mar 15
Me - um. not at all. and the 12-yr old girl inside me says: This 'tells me whhhyyyy' we're friends.EditMar 15

Thursday, March 11, 2010

TMI Thursday: Hair Today....Gone Tomorrow

My waxist is a Nazi.   And she has been carrying out illicit-amoral experiments on my nether region.  You know that scene in The 40 Year-old Virgin, where Steve Carrell actually gets his chest waxed by a giggling asian beautician?

Well, its true.  Except she's an Indian version of satan with a price on my vagina's head (?!?).  Perhaps a poor diction.   Anywho...she sucks...but do you know what sucks more?  The fact that I always take her back.

There are few positions more awkward than having your legs behind your head on a table stolen from a gynecologist's office veiled with a thin piece of paper that sticks to your ass which is sweating in anticipation of the vaginal pain your body is about to shudder through.  The only thing that can make this situation more awkward is being naked from the waist down and having a woman you barely know berate you for missing your scheduled appointment a month ago.  The one you skipped because females of our species are, at times, also driven solely be their genitalia.  Although, to be fair, I can't fault her (my who-ha) for acts of self-preservation.  I think that makes me genetically viable or something.  Also, lets be honest, it was a hard day and if I'd visited the waxing warlord I definitely would've left crying.

I know I'm not the only one...waxing hurts like hell.  But, Oprah-help me, I keep going back.  And I know I'm not alone.  Women the world over go every month.  In spite of the fact that there is something wrong with hoping that one day, like your mother before you, your skin will be desensitized enough to leave a waxing session without a single salty tear rolling down your cheek.  There's also the hope that you'll get married and give up...which I unfortunately wouldn't.  At least there's electrolysis.  But I kind of feel like I should harvest some eggs, just in case, before I go down that road.  

So yeah....TMI...

Monday, March 8, 2010

TMI Tuesday a little early: Anonymous Quotes I Will Never Reveal the Circumstances Under Which I Heard Them/ Quotes Whose Authors Need to Remain Anonymous

"Sometimes I think that guys just don't see things, like cellulite.  Like those guys who are into voluptuous women er whatever.  I just think.  They must  not see it"

Straight girl to straight girl, "I'm really into your ass.  It's so perky.  It's enormous.  I just want to grab it.  I don't even want to call it an ass.  It's like a flank, a haunch"

"It helps if you play with my balls"

"Sometimes I have a problem with dingle-berries, they suck"

"My vagina itches"

"Yeah, it's really small.  Like I didn't even realize until I saw more of them.  The second time I was like oh wow this guys pretty well-endowed.  But after a few more I was like...there's no way that I was just lucky that many times."

"I have to go to the bathroom.  Can you put some headphones on or something?"

"I mean I like expect to have at least 2 orgasms"

"Her fake nail came off in his butt.  Apparently, its not that abnormal for guys to like a finger or two in there."

"So everyone's really high on coke and shit and we get stopped by the cops.  The two of them get arrested and they have like a good amount of drugs on them.  So one of them somehow slips his cuffs and shoves the drugs up his ass...the other kid totally went down for possession."

Dear Drunk Guy I Didn't Have Sex With On Saturday...

You're kind of cool.  I enjoy making out with you.  But there are a few reasons why I'm glad we didn't do the nasty.

a.  you never texted me back a couple of weekends ago.
b.  you have some of the symptoms of an only child
c.   last Sunday I saw a barrette (not mine) on your window sill.

signs of hope.

a.  you danced to James Brown in your living room at 2 AM...that was one of the coolest things i've ever seen.
b.  you sobered up pretty quickly
c.  you don't snore.

maybe next time.

Also, Dear friend-of-a-friend who was hitting on me at the bar on Saturday.  Don't worry, you weren't to forward.  In fact, I had no idea you were gaming on me.  So...welcome to friend zone.

Also random-guy-in-the-gray-hoodie who I ran away from by accident.  Sorry about that, but you were boring and it was awkward and I on reflection I think I did us both a solid.

Also Hatian-cab driver,  I'm sorry I was too drunk to properly close your door and that I that brought drunk-guy-i-didn't have sex with on saturday into your cab.  I'm glad he didn't vom.

thank you all for your interesting vignettes.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Armed and Dangerous

I like to think that people have missed my blog posts the past two days.  I also like to think that when I am absent people think I'm actually doing cool and impressive things like inventing something or stalking Tina Fey.  But, no.  In general I don't do things because I'm just too lazy or helplessly hungover or caffeinated into a coma.  And I've probably been watching a Law and Order: SVU marathon for 15 hours because I'm too lazy or too hungover or caffeinated to find the remote.  But this time none of those reasons explain my digital 'Gone Fishin' (actually hungover might be a sign of a problem seeing as how it was mid week).

The fact is I've lost my muse.  And yesterday I today I got it back from the gods and Michael Jackson.

I'm not sure if everyone has heard about the viscous attack on poor little Blanket Jackson by his cousin Jaafar (I couldn't make that name up).  Apparently the 21st century equivalent of mailing in your cereal box tops is buying weapons online.  Jermaine's pride and joy (age 13) bought a taser gun online and upon receiving it decided to test out the product.

The shocking press a few days ago prompted Child Services to investigate the Jackson home.  The family now denies that any of MJ's kids were near the weapon at any time.  And that as soon as the family knew the children has acquired the weapon it was confiscated.  Witnesses are sticking to their stories and are claiming that Jaffar also threatened Prince.  

What would MJ do?

My guess is that he'd be 'Speechless'.  Maybe ask Jafar 'who's bad'.  Perhaps tell him to 'Beat It'.  Possibly ask him if he 'Wants to Be Startin' Somethin'.  Annnnnd I'm done.  

In other 'I'm embarrassed about what some crazy black people' do news.  Naomi Campbell.  

Running in heels is a good talent when your a super model fugitive.  This malicious model was on the run yesterday after beating her driver and fleeing the scene.  She accused him of covering up some of her boyfriends infidelities and as a co conspirator his punishment was death by high heel.   Anyway the driver isn't filing any criminal charges because he probably just wants money.  And so the evil -anger-issues-empire remains and still hasn't learned a lesson.  

Monday, March 1, 2010

F*%! You Mr. G-the-Weatherman!

Today is one of those oddly pleasant days that I fuckin' hate. It's false spring.  Just as you start getting used to it some hairy-assed rodent gets scared of it's own shadow and it matters that your corner house neighbor it too lazy to shovel and too cheap to pay someone else to do it.  I mean Last week everyone was trying to figure out how many ways you could create one word out of"snow"(or some variation) and "Apocalypse."(or some variation)  I imagine the first newscaster who used 'Snowmagedon' this year really gave him/herself a pat on the back after that one.  I suspect it was Mr. G from the WB--er whatever its called now.  Why?  Because I think he's an asshole.  I can honestly say that he's one of those people I hate for no legitimate reason.  But look at him (Pic1).  He looks like a grown up Peter Brady with David Hasselhoff hair. He is Douche-bag.  Anyhow, any time I hear 'Mr. G'  I think of  Mr. G from Summer Heights High (Pic 2), who i like infinitely better so Mr. G's can't all be bad.

So those are my rather dreary thoughts for such a nice day.  But for serious, I'm lovin' today.  It reminds me of how much happier new yorkers are in spring.  So for people who have time I suggest getting out before the day is over.  For all of you who won't make it because of those--umm what are they called---those things you get money for---right, JOBS, sucks to be you.  I don't mean that.  It's supposed to be warm for the next three days at least and not rainy on Thursday.