Archive for February, 2013

New Public Service

February 28, 2013

I am happy to take on the job of Blog Euthanizer, even though I know no such thing exists yet.  I am, however, someone of a prophet when it comes to technological advances in that a few years ago, I predicted the coming of the E-Undertaker, a person who dismantles the social media of someone who passes away.  What I would like to do is troll the Internet and destroy blogs that are horribly maintained –– the exact rules will be determined by a tribunal of “experts” who will be gathered together in a conference room at a midtown Marriott some time in April.  (To apply, contact Siobhan.  You know how to get her.)

A Tweet

February 26, 2013

I just picked a wedgie on the street in Borough Park.  Waiting for the modesty squad to haul me off.  #modestysquadofBPinc

That’s how you do it, right?

File This Under “Duh?”

February 25, 2013

According to the Times, science tells us that a “Mediterranean diet” could reduce your risk of heart disease.  Somebody back me up here –– wasn’t that common nutritional knowledge by now?  (Do we just feel better that we can quantify it?)

Freelancing Opportunities

February 23, 2013

CHARISMA MAGAZINE

Each year, freelancers write 80 percent of our articles, but we

assign most of these to writers who have established themselves

with us. In most cases, we only give article assignments to writers

with published clips. All Charisma articles, with the exception of

the shorter stories (specified below), should be between 1,800 and

2,500 words in length. More than half our readers are Christians who

belong to Pentecostal or independent charismatic churches, and

numerous others participate in the charismatic renewal in mainline

denominations. Charisma Media is a leading creator of diversified

Christian resources that empowers believers for God’s purpose. Our

vision is to inspire people to radically change their world.

 

What exactly is an “independent charismatic church?”  Anyone?

My MySpace Mood

February 22, 2013
I envied the shit out of Shirley Temple's hair when I was a kid.

I envied the shit out of Shirley Temple’s hair when I was a kid.

Apparently…

February 22, 2013

… in my mind it’s still the eighties and people still get perms.

IS: I think I might have a perm-contact high just by working in venice beach

the whole gallery smells like weed right now and I have no idea where its coming from

me: HAHAHAHAHAHAH

IS: I have to talk to my sponsor about this

me: omg

wait

not as funny as how i first interpreted it

which is embarrassing

but when you said “perm-contact high”

i thought you meant like

from hairspray or products

Wait… What?

February 20, 2013

Many in the tri-state area have probably heard the sordid tale of Rob Morrison, CBS news anchor (well, former) and resident of my hometown, that glorious bastion of WASP repression.  Apparently Morrison strangled his wife and his mother-in-law called the police and he’s saying it’s not a big deal and she (m-in-law) is saying that it is and yadda yadda yadda.

It’s all kind of boring, except for one small thing about the night, via Gothamist:

“It’s believed that Ashley Morrison hit her husband to beat him away while he was choking her, according to the Post’s sources. Another detail about the evening: The couple was watching Mystic Pizza before the alleged altercation.”

Mystic Pizza?!  How could that feel-good movie about a bunch of hard-scrabbled, dough-slinging Portuguese teenagers learning about the world and themselves lead to such violence?  How could a night that started so, so right go so, so wrong?  Tell me, Morrison!  How?!

Texts from my Dad

February 20, 2013

Dad: I forgot to tell you I saw Brigitte Nielsen in the hotel lobby in Zurich

I was scared to death

Honestly I've never had so many frightening pictures to choose from.

Honestly I’ve never had so many frightening pictures to choose from.

Job Application

February 18, 2013

Dear Karl Lagerfeld,

I wrote you some months ago to inquire as to whether or not you had a position open as personal letter delivery girl, but I haven’t heard back yet.  Perhaps there is nothing open at the moment, or maybe your HR person didn’t properly pass along my CV, or maybe you considered my stationery (embossed maroon genitalia adorned the envelope flap?) too prosaic, but I do hope you will forgive me for trying once more to seek employment with your outfit.

I would like to offer my services as a maid to your miraculous feline, Choupette.  I suppose these positions –– there are two maids, no? –– are clambered over by fashionable French maids all the time, but I must state unequivocally that I love your cat more than they do.  She is, as you say, a stunning beauty –– a face to rival Ingrid Bergman’s, locks luscious enough to put Catherine Deneuve’s to shame, and a grace so awe-inspiring it’s an insult to compare it to that of the Bolshoi ballerinas.  I want nothing more in my life than to maintain the diary of her day, which I will do in painstakingly neat handwriting, and to scrub her Goyard feeding bowls with soft-bristled toothbrushes.  I will even soothe her when she wakes up from her nightmares.  If I cannot devote my being to Choupette as a nun would sacrifice her womb to Christ, I will promptly throw myself in the scene clutching that precious image of her as a kitten playing with the iPad.

I am an ideal employee for this situation as I have a lot of experience with cats, although admittedly none as regal as your beloved, and also in that I don’t mind at all being humiliated and dehumanized at every turn.

References available upon request.

My best, and I do hope to be hearing from you very soon,

Itinerant Daughter

Choupette, your purr is my siren song.

Choupette, your purr is my siren song.

Alice Attie

February 17, 2013

Honestly, I thought I was maybe the most interesting micrographic artist of my time, but clearly I’m totally delusional and not hip to the jive, because Alice Attie’s stuff blows me out of the water.  My roommate told me that a strange woman would sit in her philosophy seminars and do what appeared to be doodles all throughout class, and then it turned out that she was working on projects for the below exhibition, which I’m terribly sorry to have missed:
#tinywritingenvy

And here is an older piece of hers, just for posterity’s sake:

UGH I hate myself.

UGH I hate myself.

I’m working on a rather large scale piece as a gift to my professional soul mate, but I think I might just give up now that I know of Attie (bad joke.)