All right, this post very well might make me the target of hate mail, but I have to say it: What the hell is with the “I Can Has Cheezburger?” site? How in the world is that the #1 blog on wordpress? I would rather read the same post by Sars on TomatoNationuntil my eyes fell out then have to deal with the visually and grammatically assaulting Cheezburger site. Okay, fine, I’m not a cat fan. But still: are that many people tickled by strange pictures of various cats with not-so-funny and not-so-cutely-misspelled captions? And the ads, the graphics, the difficult navigation…it’s really horrendous. Okay, I just had to get that out there. And before you throw that brick wrapped in a death threat through my window, let me just say this: the original “cheezburger” picture? That actually is pretty funny.
Aussies in the O.C. May 29, 2007
The other night I went out with my friend Katie and some Australian tennis pros. Yes, it is good to have friends on the inside of the pro tennis circuit. Who doesn’t want hot professional athletes with hot foreign accents popping up on her social calendar from time to time?
I knows it’s the Nose May 25, 2007
So when Zach Braff began to appear in the peripheral of my celebrity awareness, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. I went to see Garden State when it came out, just like everyone else in my generation. But, unlike everyone in my generation, I did not enjoy it. However, during the movie I found myself confused about whether or not I thought Zach Braff was attractive. I wavered during the entire film, as well as during the few times I’ve suffered through episodes of slap-stick ridden Scrubs. In case you’re saying, “Zach who?” here’s a pic for your reference:
Bad Samaritan May 24, 2007
The other day on my lunch break I drove past a Chinese restaurant, and in the parking lot in front it looked like a bag of dry rice had spilled all over the place. There were about five pigeons pecking around it, really chowing down. Then a thought crossed my mind: don’t birds’ stomachs explode if they eat dry rice? Something about the rice grains expanding in their tiny digestive systems or something. That’s why people don’t throw rice at weddings anymore. But who wants to be covered in birdseed on the dash out of the church. Not very romantic. Anyway, as I was thinking this, I also wondered for a split second if there wasn’t some kind of Good Samaritan law regarding animals. Like, should I have slammed on my brakes, hopped out of the car, and shooed them away from certain death? Surely if I saw a group of humans participating in an activity that would, unbeknownst to them, result in their gastrically explosive demise, I would say something, right? Maybe next time.
Black Fly in Your Chardonnay May 22, 2007
I wrote this a few weeks ago:
“I want to be a writer. I think. Except, lately my view of writers has been changing. For many years, my image of an author was a cross between Jo March of Little Women, staying up late into the night, scribbling feverishly as she passionately weaves meaningful tales and Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City, sitting cross-legged on her bed in front of a laptop, typing up witty observations on everyday life.
