Where has the year gone ?
Why, I've been so busy I haven't had time to blog.
For me, this year has been a steady source of ecch...
Anyone reading this--would you like my best of the year list?
Movies-
I don't go to the movies; I wait for On Demand (if you've ever read this blog, you would know how I feel about small smelly kids and their shitbag parents). Why can't all mothers be as caring as Andrea Yates?
I can't name 10 movies, but I did like Art School Confidential.
Music-
Don't really buy CD's much; love XM Satellite Radio. Oh I bought 1 CD -- The Punch Line. It's great; buy it today.
Fashion-
All I know is I have a great knock-off Dior bag. Two cheers for slave labor so I can have my bag!
Important for 2007:
Please take this advice: to anyone out there who may be reading this... From now on: No more winter hats with the pom-pom on top. It's not 1978, you're not 12 years old; stop trying to recapture your youth. You still hate your Mom and your Dad doesn't care about you. Drop the ribbon barettes, the rainbow shirt and the pom-poms--you just look stupid.
Oh-
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
I'm going to the Borgata on Sunday to see Jim Norton... OOOOH!
Dont'cha wish you you were me?
Friday, December 29, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Mouse without cheese in a town without pity
Oh, I hate the summer.
The sun--nice and all--but me and my transparent skin slathering sunblock #50 all day long = not so much fun.
I guess I could use white gloves and a parisol for protection, but would it really go with my jeans and Converse sneakers?
So I have one of those lovely iPods. One of the old ones, not the ones where you can watch TV shows (on a screen the size of a baby mouse for $399.00 -- brilliant). Anywho, I love the thing but, hey, loading it in -- could it be more of a pain in the ass? It makes me pine for the days of the good ol' mix tape.
Okay -- what was the worst thing you had to deal with the tape runs out? Go to side two. My other problem it's so impersonal. Remember when you would make a mix tape for your friends, complete with homemade artwork
or how about when you liked a guy (or girl), you would say all the things you wanted to say on the tape (I like you/you're special; hell even "I hate you")Oh hell -- you made a conection. What do you do now? I downloaded this for you; check your file -- did you? Thanks; it must have taken you all of 30 seconds.
Love in the modern age.
The sun--nice and all--but me and my transparent skin slathering sunblock #50 all day long = not so much fun.
I guess I could use white gloves and a parisol for protection, but would it really go with my jeans and Converse sneakers?
So I have one of those lovely iPods. One of the old ones, not the ones where you can watch TV shows (on a screen the size of a baby mouse for $399.00 -- brilliant). Anywho, I love the thing but, hey, loading it in -- could it be more of a pain in the ass? It makes me pine for the days of the good ol' mix tape.
Okay -- what was the worst thing you had to deal with the tape runs out? Go to side two. My other problem it's so impersonal. Remember when you would make a mix tape for your friends, complete with homemade artwork
or how about when you liked a guy (or girl), you would say all the things you wanted to say on the tape (I like you/you're special; hell even "I hate you")Oh hell -- you made a conection. What do you do now? I downloaded this for you; check your file -- did you? Thanks; it must have taken you all of 30 seconds.
Love in the modern age.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Gradually, then suddenly
Yes, it's true I am a 35 year old.
Now, you say 35 is the new 20 and 40 is the new 30 but hey, what the fuck--I'm still 35. Five years from the big 40. Ten after that, 50 (and hopefully, I will have learned how to drive
by then). So what did I do? Wanted to see the Poseidon disaster; no luck--sold out. Then again, the local theater seats 40 or so people... so everyone who doesn't have a job can get tickets.
The real fun was on Sat. Went to the Borgata at A.C.; no craps involved--just Jim Norton.
If you know the name, you probably listen to Opie and Anthony.
Sadly, if you don't, all I will say is
"RAMOOOOONE, get this idiot an XM radio and stop worshiping Howard Stern!"
("hoo hoo hoo, I created comedy--tell 'em Fred")
Anyhoo, enjoy the sunshine and think of me...
Love,
Liz
Now, you say 35 is the new 20 and 40 is the new 30 but hey, what the fuck--I'm still 35. Five years from the big 40. Ten after that, 50 (and hopefully, I will have learned how to drive
by then). So what did I do? Wanted to see the Poseidon disaster; no luck--sold out. Then again, the local theater seats 40 or so people... so everyone who doesn't have a job can get tickets.
The real fun was on Sat. Went to the Borgata at A.C.; no craps involved--just Jim Norton.
If you know the name, you probably listen to Opie and Anthony.
Sadly, if you don't, all I will say is
"RAMOOOOONE, get this idiot an XM radio and stop worshiping Howard Stern!"
("hoo hoo hoo, I created comedy--tell 'em Fred")
Anyhoo, enjoy the sunshine and think of me...
Love,
Liz
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Your mother was wrong--you're just not that special
That's right--you're not special.
You and that damn walkie-talkie phone of yours.
Grown man with a contraption what makes you look
like you're ten years old (why don't you string two cans together
and have the conversation; it would seem more dignified).
Oh, how about the Bluetooth idiots? The loudmouths with the
blue/silver beetles hanging on, looking like a hearing aid.
Carrying on--like your phone call is so important.
First, use your inside voice. Second--your call to the office
isn't the call to the red phone, ok? Talking into space makes you look
mental.
If I'm going to sit next to a nut--fine, just make sure he's
got his tin foil hat on (preferably talking about Jesus or JFK;
I can never get enough of a good conspiracy theory).
One good technology bit--woman sitting next to me was watching Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. No Caddyshack, but still funny.
You and that damn walkie-talkie phone of yours.
Grown man with a contraption what makes you look
like you're ten years old (why don't you string two cans together
and have the conversation; it would seem more dignified).
Oh, how about the Bluetooth idiots? The loudmouths with the
blue/silver beetles hanging on, looking like a hearing aid.
Carrying on--like your phone call is so important.
First, use your inside voice. Second--your call to the office
isn't the call to the red phone, ok? Talking into space makes you look
mental.
If I'm going to sit next to a nut--fine, just make sure he's
got his tin foil hat on (preferably talking about Jesus or JFK;
I can never get enough of a good conspiracy theory).
One good technology bit--woman sitting next to me was watching Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. No Caddyshack, but still funny.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
On behalf of the passengers, please turn off the noise
My morning commute:
Train packed to the rafters. Stand? Guess so.
Oh, look a seat--of course the guy sitting in one of them
has his legs splayed out like he's something special;
well,tough luck, bucko--I'm sitting down. Cram my frame into
that cushiony seat. AHHH... time to relax... until guess what
happens?
Two women/two guys sitting across from me start the morning
'entertainment'. All of them blabbing away; laughing, stomping
their feet, cursing up a storm (what were they talking about?).
Don't know, but it had a lot to do with f@#k, s%$t, mother... you get it.
You would think that's enough--no, not yet.
They decide it's time for the musical portion of the show--simultaneously, they pull out the cell phones. The usual assortment of rap/R&B horseshit and one of them actuallyrecorded a song on her phone (off key with the sound quality similar to one who would sing into a paper towel roll). OOOH--Beyonce--watch out! She proceeded to play the song over and over again, especially her little rap part.
Now, as you can guess, everbody on this train is a little annoyed; everyone waiting for someone to say something.
I could tell some glanced over to me as if to say 'young lady you have nothing to lose--sacrifice your health and some teeth and tell those people to hush'.
Sorry bud; I've been down this road before--I suffer you suffer.
By a stroke of luck or the hammer of the gods, an actual conductor came by
told them to turn off the music. They did after much grumbling (after Mr. Conductor exited the car, they gave one more performace of the
song in a cappella). All this AND the woman sitting next to me had wicked B.O.
Good morning indeed.
Train packed to the rafters. Stand? Guess so.
Oh, look a seat--of course the guy sitting in one of them
has his legs splayed out like he's something special;
well,tough luck, bucko--I'm sitting down. Cram my frame into
that cushiony seat. AHHH... time to relax... until guess what
happens?
Two women/two guys sitting across from me start the morning
'entertainment'. All of them blabbing away; laughing, stomping
their feet, cursing up a storm (what were they talking about?).
Don't know, but it had a lot to do with f@#k, s%$t, mother... you get it.
You would think that's enough--no, not yet.
They decide it's time for the musical portion of the show--simultaneously, they pull out the cell phones. The usual assortment of rap/R&B horseshit and one of them actuallyrecorded a song on her phone (off key with the sound quality similar to one who would sing into a paper towel roll). OOOH--Beyonce--watch out! She proceeded to play the song over and over again, especially her little rap part.
Now, as you can guess, everbody on this train is a little annoyed; everyone waiting for someone to say something.
I could tell some glanced over to me as if to say 'young lady you have nothing to lose--sacrifice your health and some teeth and tell those people to hush'.
Sorry bud; I've been down this road before--I suffer you suffer.
By a stroke of luck or the hammer of the gods, an actual conductor came by
told them to turn off the music. They did after much grumbling (after Mr. Conductor exited the car, they gave one more performace of the
song in a cappella). All this AND the woman sitting next to me had wicked B.O.
Good morning indeed.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Hey kids--Easter's here!
Oh, I do love this time of year.
Bunnies a hoppin'; Christ a risin'.
There's something about a chocolate bunny with those l'il yellow eyes and carrot noses and
cute l'il names like Sunny ,Honey, Funny (and of course the one that's the cheap
store brand that looks crosseyed and more like a jackrabbit).
All of this insulin raising goodness that turns me into a wide eyed l'il kitty (BLINK - BLINK, think about it, it's cute).
Oh my days of youth; all my cares were tied to what PAAS food
coloring to use on my eggs: pink, blue, ohh now it's purple--now let's use crayons; wait--now it's cracked--next.
(nobody ever eats the eggs anyway; blue egg with a green yolk = tasty)
My favorite Easter story? It's the one where my mom allowed me to get a
comic book. I pick the one with the Bunny on the cover, bypassing
the fact it had the SCARY comic book title.
The l'il rabbit lured children into his factory, dipped them in chocolate,
and bit their heads off. Read this--couldn't sleep for days.
So pull out your Easter bonnets, take out those chocolate rabbits, rip the
heads clean off and think of me.
.
Bunnies a hoppin'; Christ a risin'.
There's something about a chocolate bunny with those l'il yellow eyes and carrot noses and
cute l'il names like Sunny ,Honey, Funny (and of course the one that's the cheap
store brand that looks crosseyed and more like a jackrabbit).
All of this insulin raising goodness that turns me into a wide eyed l'il kitty (BLINK - BLINK, think about it, it's cute).
Oh my days of youth; all my cares were tied to what PAAS food
coloring to use on my eggs: pink, blue, ohh now it's purple--now let's use crayons; wait--now it's cracked--next.
(nobody ever eats the eggs anyway; blue egg with a green yolk = tasty)
My favorite Easter story? It's the one where my mom allowed me to get a
comic book. I pick the one with the Bunny on the cover, bypassing
the fact it had the SCARY comic book title.
The l'il rabbit lured children into his factory, dipped them in chocolate,
and bit their heads off. Read this--couldn't sleep for days.
So pull out your Easter bonnets, take out those chocolate rabbits, rip the
heads clean off and think of me.
.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Alright... complaining's my business and business is good...
Alright...
It's Friday. Worked all week. Not much to say. Hey it's a living and I'm legal.
As I type this, I would love to listen to my XM radio, but no reception in the
apt (the one downer of moving).
Hey Clem, how's the commute to work?
It's public transportation... Crowded bus--everyone smells and has a shitty
morning attitude. Of course, Ms. Fat Ass has to sit next to me every time I
might get a seat.Get off the bus, make the mad dash to the train (with 10 seconds to spare). Hope a get a sea or at least not have to sit next bunch of commuters with all the charm of a teamster with out a contract.
By golly, Clem -- gone shopping lately?
Went to To Old Navy, cute stuff tired of hibernating in the same damn shirts and jeans.
Bring on the spring... I welcome the return of Fancy Clementine.
Gee willikers, Clem -- did your brother just get hitched?
Yup... thanks for telling me Quentin--nothing like finding out weeks later from your mom; that makes you feel in the inner circle.
And last, but not least, check out the new article in the New York Magazine
''Forever Youngish - Why Nobody Wants To Be An Adult Anymore".
Ha ha... cover story on indie yuppies (sorry--grups) and there, brethren...
OOH LA LA.
'Bye.
It's Friday. Worked all week. Not much to say. Hey it's a living and I'm legal.
As I type this, I would love to listen to my XM radio, but no reception in the
apt (the one downer of moving).
Hey Clem, how's the commute to work?
It's public transportation... Crowded bus--everyone smells and has a shitty
morning attitude. Of course, Ms. Fat Ass has to sit next to me every time I
might get a seat.Get off the bus, make the mad dash to the train (with 10 seconds to spare). Hope a get a sea or at least not have to sit next bunch of commuters with all the charm of a teamster with out a contract.
By golly, Clem -- gone shopping lately?
Went to To Old Navy, cute stuff tired of hibernating in the same damn shirts and jeans.
Bring on the spring... I welcome the return of Fancy Clementine.
Gee willikers, Clem -- did your brother just get hitched?
Yup... thanks for telling me Quentin--nothing like finding out weeks later from your mom; that makes you feel in the inner circle.
And last, but not least, check out the new article in the New York Magazine
''Forever Youngish - Why Nobody Wants To Be An Adult Anymore".
Ha ha... cover story on indie yuppies (sorry--grups) and there, brethren...
OOH LA LA.
'Bye.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Le Fig's All Here
Greetings, saplings.
I blog to you from the fair state of New Jersey. Yes, I've been here a full two weeks. I didn't have time to blog when I was going through my moving week. Let's just say I lived on three hours of sleep a night and Uncle Sam bars. But I'm happy to say, settled in, content and oh what a beautiful apartment.
Now my commute is through New Jersey Transit. The trains are quite nice but crowded; nicer class of people than say, a certain ferry I used to take. Sorry (not to be a snob), but so far I haven't seen any homeless men taking the train with me. There's nothing like the smell of beer and sausage to really wake you up in the morning.
So as I said, things are settled; work is fine and we'll see how the months progress. Just wanted to say hello.
Until next time...
Your loyal Le Fig
I blog to you from the fair state of New Jersey. Yes, I've been here a full two weeks. I didn't have time to blog when I was going through my moving week. Let's just say I lived on three hours of sleep a night and Uncle Sam bars. But I'm happy to say, settled in, content and oh what a beautiful apartment.
Now my commute is through New Jersey Transit. The trains are quite nice but crowded; nicer class of people than say, a certain ferry I used to take. Sorry (not to be a snob), but so far I haven't seen any homeless men taking the train with me. There's nothing like the smell of beer and sausage to really wake you up in the morning.
So as I said, things are settled; work is fine and we'll see how the months progress. Just wanted to say hello.
Until next time...
Your loyal Le Fig
Saturday, January 14, 2006
The time of salivation is here
I bring a message of love for the new year.
Not really, but if you weren't familiar with my blog, you might have been fooled.
So what has the new year brought?
I'm moving, thank you very much. No more ghetto, baby--I'm movin' on up. Before we leave, I have one wish... I hope my neighbors die of a drug overdose and their drug-addled corpses are
found weeks later, half eaten by rats the size of chihuahuas (if you wonder about the hostility, read my old blogs; otherwise, you get it).
Guess what I have: XM radio. I used to love me some Ipod, but the fickle female I am, well... Let's just say: I LOVE ME SOME XM! You have no idea how nice it is to listen to real music with no commercials.
THE LE FIG HAPPY LIST:
1. XM radio
2. O&A on XM (trust me, it's I-can't-breathe funny.)
3.The Flavor of Love: The VH-1 show. It's ghetto-horror-tastic.
4. Any reality shows about tattoos -- Miami Ink, Inked (it's my new thing; just work with me)
5. Smokehouse BBQ Buffet: food--me love it, nothing more to say.
More tasty tidbits later. Stay gold, Ponyboy.
Not really, but if you weren't familiar with my blog, you might have been fooled.
So what has the new year brought?
I'm moving, thank you very much. No more ghetto, baby--I'm movin' on up. Before we leave, I have one wish... I hope my neighbors die of a drug overdose and their drug-addled corpses are
found weeks later, half eaten by rats the size of chihuahuas (if you wonder about the hostility, read my old blogs; otherwise, you get it).
Guess what I have: XM radio. I used to love me some Ipod, but the fickle female I am, well... Let's just say: I LOVE ME SOME XM! You have no idea how nice it is to listen to real music with no commercials.
THE LE FIG HAPPY LIST:
1. XM radio
2. O&A on XM (trust me, it's I-can't-breathe funny.)
3.The Flavor of Love: The VH-1 show. It's ghetto-horror-tastic.
4. Any reality shows about tattoos -- Miami Ink, Inked (it's my new thing; just work with me)
5. Smokehouse BBQ Buffet: food--me love it, nothing more to say.
More tasty tidbits later. Stay gold, Ponyboy.
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