Quick update
If you ever considered making a donation to this Web site, now is the time because I just charged almost $3,000 to my credit card for a Powerbook. Happy Skanksgiving to me!
Addendum: My "zine" will be available for $5 sometime after the holidays. It's basically a collection of reflections on former boyfriends, and I'm very happy with how it's shaping out. I'm sure you will be interested in reading it! Have a great weekend, I'll be back in action Monday morning. <3
Happy Nuggetsgiving!
I'm going home to New York this weekend for Thanksgiving. Rejoice! I won't be back until Monday morning, so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update the ol' Web log. (Has anyone else noticed I've been adhering to AP style lately?) Anyway, I'll try to write an entry or two, but I hate opening up this site on my parents' computers.
OK, time to pack. Peace out, white people!
Pretentious entry alert
After having read "Bravo"'s blog this weekend on Economic policy of the Clinton presidency, I felt compelled to post about my views on the economic boom that developed during his term in office.
It was good.
LOL, losers.
Stop right now, thank you very much
Did anyone watch "Behind the Music: Spice Girls" on VH1 tonight? What a load of crap! The producers completely glossed over Geri's solo career, ignoring her TWO popular albums, TWO autobiographies, multiple yoga videos, and AMBASSADOR TO THE UNITED NATIONS, and instead quoted some nameless commentator as saying, "Watching Geri's solo career was like watching a car wreck." Whatever! She is a wildly successful entertainer, and I think we can expect a lot from her in the future.
And what about Victoria, who is now a spokesmodel for Rocawear? Her ads are everywhere. Why didn't they mention this?
The show was only an hour long, and I don't think you can squeeze the Spice Girls phenomenon into 60 minutes, not including commercial breaks. The show seemed to have many factual inaccuracies (didn't Emma join the group after some other girl left?) and I did not learn anything new. I am very disappointed!
Sorry, I'm flipping out about nothing, but the Spice Girls -- particularly Geri -- are held very close to my heart. GIRL POWA!
Birntey SPears play by play!
If anyone cares to know of such things, The AtaRiS, those fabulous boys did a remake of some asshole's song "Boys of SuMmEr", performed at mah school and apparently they got drunk and messed up the dressing room and then proceeded to perform intoxicated, rambling incoherently. Those knaves! Actually I would have done the same thing so yea I guess they are cool.
God damn it it is so fucking hard to type while listening to the new Britney CD. And does anyone listen to the MOANING in every song? OK, want to trip your mind? Listen to 'Outrageous' REALLY LOUD on your headphones; during the chorus, the baseline will make you think your cell phone is on a flat surface, vibrating. FREAKY.
While listening to 'In The Zone', forget about the Britney in eyeliner and hair extensions. Imaging THIS Britney!!! It is simply impossible to listen to. I'm thinking of her that way now -- augh, the only thing missing from that picture is hair curlers and about 10 years of aging. Shit.
'Outrageous' is the only song on the album that fades away to a close. R. Kelly -- what a lazy fuck.
My fav song has GOT to be 'Touch of My Hand.' The opening is just so sexy. And the rest seems sensual yet sincere. The image of Britney wacking off is a nice bonus.
The baseline to 'Touch Of My Hand' sounds SUSPICIOUSLY like the riff to Bee Gee's 'Stayin' Alive.' Ok, maybe not.
On her first album, when they turned some of her lines into that annoying robot-esque computer-generated voice, it sounded like she was on the phone, calling her parents and saying that if they didn't give her kidnapped $100,000, she was going to die. Now it sounds like she is on the phone as a phone sex operator.
'The Hook Up' is a fuckin' awesome track. Exploiting the culture of inconsequential minorities RULEZ. Rock steady, mon!!
I wonder if Britney Spears hates black people. After all, she is from the South. Well, if that is the case, she better shape up; that bitch should be kissing black peoples' asses! Or at least Hatian asses.
OH MAN, I love 'The Hook Up' when it gets to 2:20. Her voice is so scrambled, I LOVE IT. And they actually make her sound Haitian. Remember when Alicia Silverstone said "Hate-ians!" in that movie "As If." Lol, that cracked my shit up. Oh fuck, the movie was called "Clueless." Duh.
Ah, 'Shadow' is on. This is a good point into the CD in which one can take a short break, perhaps get a snack, or use the bathroom. This song is good, but if you missed 30 seconds of it, you wouldn't really give a shit.
Actually, I have a personal connection to the song 'Shadow' so I like to listen to the whole thing.
Haha remember when Britney sang that song "Not a girl Not yet a woman" lol that was such bullshit.
Oh, someone cued the Baptist choir in the background! I was afraid they were going to forget!!
"Shadow" is over, praise be.
"Brave New Girl" is such a ripoff of Garbage's "Cherry Lips", I hate it.
Secretly I like it! lol
Oh my god, does she really sing 'My M.O.'s changed"?! Lol she is such a presumptuous witch.
Augh I need to lay down.
No I am definitely NOT high lol.
I should have kept that bottle of vodka!
It is Saturday night. I stayed in to write a paper. After finishing the fifth page, I closed Word and turned on the campus television station. I am absolutely obsessed with this one show. Two girls wearing a lot of mascara walk around campus and ask people stupid questions. "How many people do you think I've slept with? Do I look like a drug addict? Do you think I'm a slut?" They had this hilarious skit in which they pretended to be phone sex operators into beastiality. I'm laughing my ass off, wishing I had a television show of my own, and feeling like a total loser.
My boyfriend, who I hardly see outside of quick trips to the school cafeteria or brief naps in between acts of chaos, went to Dupont and didn't invite me. I should just become an alcoholic out of convenience -- I'm always alone! WHY AM I NOT DRUNK.
I suppose it was only a matter of time before I mentioned Justin Timberlake's penis
Being such a well-adjusted individual and all, I've decided to start an advice column on this Web site. So if you'd like me to solve your pathetic problems, send me an email.
Also, start saving your pennies because I'm about to release my SECOND zine!! Lots of funny essays and pictures, y'all are gonna love it. But it's gonna cost ya -- $3, that is. In the meantime, I encourage you all to donate some cash via Paypal and Amazon since my bank account is smaller than Justin Timberlake's penis. Har har.
Yet another entry devoted entirely to the subject of alcohol
Just what the Internet needed: a new Web log! But whatever, it's written by my good friend and fellow substance abuser, Shayna -- aka The Shank. You can read her irresponsibily candid musings here.
Anyway, now that I am a "model resident" who also happens to be on academic probation until May 2004, I've given up on dorm-style drinkin' lest I be documented with alcohol in the residence hall for the fifth time and be thrown out onto the streets. Sobriety has never seemed so unappealling -- and unlikely!
Since complete abstinence from the devil's brew is not an option -- or, at least an option that I am willing to consider -- I allow myself a cocktail or five in the company of a few dorm-ridden friends; all other rowdy routes to intoxication (i.e. beer pong, power hours, funnels, etc.) are reserved exclusively for off-campus locales. It's a shame that things have progessed to this point, but only I can accept the blame and procede to pin it on fascist resident assistants and other campus faculty in positions of dubious authority. Le sigh.
I swear I'm not a bad kid. Can't I blame past indiscretions on, like, being gay or something?
I'm so in the zone right now!
I wrote a review of Britney's new CD for our school paper. Things you should know before reading it: Thomas Hall is a dorm on campus, and Phi Sig Sig is a slutty sorority.
Britney Spears
"In The Zone"
(Jive Records)
Despite releasing a bevy of albums after her 1999 debut album, "...Baby One More Time," it's been hard to shake off that inaugural image of Britney Spears slutting it up in a Catholic school girl uniform. Fortunately -- or perhaps disturbingly -- "In The Zone" presents Ms. Spears outside of her plaid skirt and into something a little more kinky. Namely, masturbation.
That's right, kids. "Touch Of My Hand" -- unarguably the most sensual track on this pop-tart's latest album -- is all about Britney being caught red-handed (or perhaps red-dildoed?) in a self-indulgent reverie. One can only imagine the brainstorming session that took place between an apparently horned-up Spears and the three other writers who penned the song. Though it's an exquisitely produced track, the entire album is a clear indictment of one fact: Britney needs to get laid. And fast!
OK, so perhaps recording a song devoted entirely to "clicking the mouse" is going a step too far -- but who on this campus is honestly satisfied with his or her sex life? The degree to which this campus will relate to "In The Zone" is truly astounding. Take, for instance, the track "Early Mornin'," on which Britney laments a misconceived drunken hookup. "Got drunk 'til the break of dawn, hooked up with a guy named Joe, passed out on the couch," she sings, almost matter-of-factly. (At this very moment, you know that girl who passed out in a Thomas Hall lounge is heading over to Borders to buy this album!)
Once interesting only to high school girls and -- secretly -- your dad, Britney Spears has finally produced an album that any sexually active, vaguely alcoholic college student can relate to. She might as well get it over with and join Phi Sig Sig.
You stupid bitch
To the red-headed Nazi fuck in my American public policy class:
After overhearing a conversation in which you began a sentence with "I don't have a problem with homosexuals, but...", I stared at you for five uninterrupted minutes, contemplating your demise involving a perilous cliff and a wheelbarrow. I hope this made you uncomfortable.
By the way, on the rare occassion that you smile, it looks like you are intentionally pinching your face. And everyone in the class hates you.
xoxo Toby.
PS This entry is boring and not funny
I would write about my Friday night, but to be honest, the shame of being documented with alcohol in the dorms for the fourth time is simply too much to admit to myself that it actually happened. Instead, I will wait until the letter from Judicial Affairs and Mediation Services arrives in my mailbox to deal with the very real, very scary threat of being expelled from the residence halls. Cheers to that!
Le sigh. You know, if I had just gone to New York as planned for the *namedrop alert* Fleshbot launch party, the unfortunate affair with an irate residential ass-istant would not have transpired. The bitch had clearly never seen the better side of Natural Ice 30-rack! (Of course, if I had not been participating in a beer-fueled Power Hour, the same logic applies, but I would sooner blame an external, unrelated coincidence than take responsibility for my own actions.) But anyway, as the kids say, hindsight is 20/20 -- unless, of course, you wake up after a night spent drowning in the devil's brew, still drunk. (Not that that has never not happened to me or anything.)
And we're moving on. Quickly.
Currently, I am toiling away the hours at my McInternship on Capitol Hill, where I've taken to catching up on school work and reading weblogs -- I mean, "Web logs" -- instead of drafting constituent letters and answering the phone. Whatever, if you think I'm lazy and unproductive, then fuck you! It's not as if I'm getting paid. (Please ignore the fact that collectively, this internship amounts to, like, $9,000 worth of college credits. Thank you.)
Some woman on CNN just said, "Her uterus is still intact." Cruel world -- if only I could say the same of my sanity.
No New York for me
I was supposed to be going to New York today for the Fleshbot launch party. But I've a very bad cold, so I won't be able to make it. Aw, cheer up, babies -- I didn't mean to make you cry. I'll be in the city Thanksgiving week signing autographs at various locales, so email me if you're interested in meeting up.
This is where I un-ironically insult other weblogs
If you're the author of a really shitty weblog, chances are that I am your Number One Fan.
And I'm also the one who will leave you bitter, drunken, typo-pocked comments at 3 in the morning. Sorry about that.
You see, I've developed this masochistic tendency to read weblogs that serve only to irritate or annoy me. You know exactly the kind I am talking about. The weblog with a really slick design but chillingly tedious content. The weblog whose noxious pretension is eclipsed only by its author's unholy compulsion to update multiple times in one day. The weblog that is so unspeakably bad that, like a gruesome car accident, you feel compelled to bear witness to its own hideous nature.
Perhaps this explains why my homepage is vividblurry.com. Oh, irony, thou art a cruel mistress.
Anyway, I'm going to ignore my instincts and post some links to the weblogs I've been hating lately. Proceed at your own risk; mediocrity can be highly addictive!
-www.spriteboyworld.com
-www.signalshift.com
-www.sparkology.net
Hmm. Apparently I will not rest until everyone and his underaged lover thinks I am a total and complete bitch. A mighty crusade, I must say!
Addendum: A reader suggested www.jasewells.com for some more mundane musings.
Whatever happened to class?
In case you all think I am majoring in Advanced Alcoholism with a minor in Narcotics Studies (oh, if only!), I am posting a tentative schedule of next semester's classes. True to form, I waited until the last minute to register my courses, but whatever, I seem to have slapped together a pretty decent schedule that allows me to work with mild diligence during the week and drink myself silly on the weekends. It's a party and you're invited!
-Contemporary Media in a Global Society
-Legal Aspects of Communication
-Editorial Policies and Methods
-Religious Communication in Media & Society
And I still have room for an elective. Basket weaving, anyone?
Condoleeza "5-Minute" Rice
**WARNING: THIS ENTRY IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK.
Sorry, Jessica Smart! Maybe next time, Elizabeth Lynch! Thanks to her "alleged" sex tape, Paris Hilton has officially become America's new sweetheart! Okay, maybe she's not a sweetheart, but thousands (millions?) of men are masturbating furiously to nightvision-goggle screenshots of a fellating B-list celebutante, and that's got to count for something, right?
Though this latest development in the Paris Hilton sex tape scandal is exciting, we must remember to keep in mind the other important issues that are affecting our lives. Which is why I present to you screenshots of the tragically underrated CONDOLEEZA RICE SEX TAPE.
That's right, kids -- what follows will shock you. It might even sexually stimulate you. (Thank goddess it isn't real...)
What the hell does VH1 stand for anyway?
Let's get this straight -- I wasn't in New York for a job interview, unless, of course, you are Michael Musto and consider "VH1 Sound Bite Whore" a legitimate occupation. (Oh, and let me just say that I would love to sit my ass down in front of a camera and elicit pithy commentary about celebrities for the rest of my life, but I don't think that gig comes with a decent health care package.)
Yea, so anyway. Some producers at VH1 are creating a show about music video cliches, and after reading my mildly amusing BritneyWatch entry, they offered to fly me to New York for an interview.
For about an hour, I prattled endlessly about Michael Jackson, Jessica Simpson and Joey Lawrence. (Yes, Joey Lawrence!) The producers laughed at almost everything I said, though I consider the possibility of them actually laughing at me as very likely.
If this show goes to air, I strongly doubt I will be included in the final cut. Though I suppose I was funny, I was also horrifyingly spastic. The woman kept reminding me to look directly at the interviewer -- and I would do just that for maybe 2 minutes before pausing and gesturing wildly to everyone else in the room to deliver a tangential sidebar about something completely NOT related to music videos. I'm blaming the Ritalin for that one.
Anyway, I'm not going to bore you with the details of my weekend, but I did have a nice dinner with Choire Sicha and a pretty wild night with my friend Matt at a bar called Apt. And though I did not, admittedly, spend most of my time in New York exposing my abs to anyone and everyone who wasn't legally blind (as some seem to believe), I took this special camshot for those that missed out:
I will probably delete this entry at some point
Wouldn't it be disturbing if abortions became as normal and common-place as defecation?
"Sorry, guys. I'll be right back, I have to take a fetus."
"Does anyone have to use the abortion clinic? There won't be another rest stop for at least 50 miles!"
"I've had to start wearing adult diapers. When I'm out in public, I sometimes start fetusing uncontrollably."
"God, I'm so backed up, I'm gonna have the biggest abortion later."
Wow. Was that a new low?
Extreme Mating
The parental establishment classifies "the college years" as the best of one's life. That's crap! Let me tell you, if these are the best, I can only imagine what post-graduation will be like.
I see myself alone in a tiny Arlington (if this was a New York web site, I would precociously say Brooklyn) apartment, eating tater tots and plucking my eyebrows intermittently. Yes, it is true -- I pluck my eyebrows when I am restless, or am bored, or have just woken up, or am drunk. Hot damn, I pluck them all the time! But for whom would I pluck? No one, you see -- no one at all. It would be just me in that apartment, alone, with no one around to appreciate the beauty and craft of my well-plucked eyebrows.
Not surprisingly, I digress. The real thorn in my side (oh, but if only it were some other thorn-like object invading an entirely different orifice!) is this whole "going to college" thing. It needs to end. Now.
To this end, I shall drop my tedious classes and kick my shitty internship to the curb. Be gone, shitty internship! I am through with you and your envelope stuffing and your awful constituent letters and fascist dress code. I cannot bear to tolerate one more intolerable minute! Oh, the humanity.
Instead, I will move to L.A., where I will spontaneously but nonetheless felicitously encounter Jillian Barberie, talented host of Extreme Dating and Good Day L.A. (Why L.A., you ask? Hell, bitchez, why not!) Jillian and I will fall in love, get married, have three gorgeous kids, and inject each other with Botox on Sunday mornings while eating toasted sesame bagels and nursing our coke hangovers with orange juice and a hearty handful of Xanax.
God, I love Jillian Barberie. She's the only person who has been able to make me smile lately. She seems so at ease on the set of Extreme Dating, and believe me, that is not a passive aggressive insult. She seriously cracks me up. I think I'm going to write an entry about how great she is when I'm not feeling so lazy. Guys, c'mon, I'm totally serious.
P.S. My interview has been pushed back, I should be in New York on Friday. Who wants to give me a place to stay?
P.P.S. Tom Ford is leaving Gucci. Oh no, ladies! *hysterical cry* What ever will we do???!!!!@#$@Q#%$#@$ snooooooz
Public Service Announcment
I'll be in New York on Wednesday for an interview. Email me if you want to liquor me up and take me out for an expensive lunch. Hardyhar.
Ooh, Halloween pics
Halloween isn't just for kids! It's also for broke-ass college students with stunted maturity levels and a hankering for free candy. Here's some hot pics from last night. (I'm the witch.)
