Thursday, June 29, 2006

Consider this your notice...

I concocted a semi-crazy long-term photo project this morning while brushing my teeth. Those of you who reside within the five boroughs of New York Cit-ay, whether I already know you or not, will be invited...and by "invited," I mean "expected"...to participate. I'm about halfway through the necessary prep work, so further details will follow. You've been duly warned.

I'll be off of work and on the loose for the next five glorious days. Hide your boyfriend and your Xanax.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

What I am is what I am

Completely and totally over:

  • Baseless, insecurity-laden snobbery
  • People who don't walk on the right
  • Finger-pointing (both the literal and figurative types)
  • Ward Churchill
  • Being broke
  • Online dating
  • Rain
  • Gothamist
  • Smug, self-congratulatory, crappy, derivative indie rock(ers)
  • Bandwagon World Cup fanatics
  • Veterinary crises
  • Ted Nugent
  • Politics
  • Boredom
  • Missing my CO/CA/Kuwait posse
  • Flip flops on men

Theoretically over, but deeply enmeshed with:

  • Inaction
  • Corporate America
  • Weight obsessing
  • Singlehood
  • Sebastian Bach
  • Blogging
  • Cowardice
  • Insomnia
  • Complacency
  • Gawker

Still completely and totally okay with:

Monday, June 26, 2006

Ethan's Entourage

I may not be doing jack dick with my life, but I certainly have productive friends.

Check out the latest Baby Dayliner (aka Ethan Marunas) video. Note cameos appearances by Damien Paris and Adrian Grenier.

You know you're hot shit when one of the best looking dudes in Hollywood shows up in your video and fails to upstage you. Go Baby.


Friday, June 23, 2006

Best.Spam.Comment.EVER.

From my new friend, aptly named "free ass pic":

"When searching for http://www.assoholics.com, your site appeared in the listings. But this site is not exactly what I was in need of information wise about free ass pic. So that being said. :) Have a great day. I am off to continue my search. "

See that, ma? I made assoholics.com, kinda! You musta done something right!

Clearly, though, there is much work ahead of me. I want to be exactly what you are in need of information wise about free ass pic. Really.

Hey, at least I finally have a goal of some sort. 'Bout time.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Kyle's Mom's a Bitch...

And Billy's Dad is a Fudge-Packer.

Quite possibly the best gay-themed, non-porn short film in the history of the universe.

Happy Pride, my homos!

Monday, June 19, 2006

Help a girl out

My typical bitchtastic commentary is neither required nor appropriate here. Please help if you can.

From the New York Daily News:

Friends of Kevin Aviance are appealing for donations to help the downtown performer, who did not have health insurance at the time of his brutal bashing last weekend.

Aviance, who has topped the Billboard dance charts twice, was knocked unconscious and had his jaw broken by four thugs in the East Village. He is recovering at home after being treated at Beth Israel Medical Center.

Checks made out to Eric Snead — Aviance's birth name — are being accepted by the Gay and Lesbian Anti-Violence Project at 240 W. 35th St., Suite 200, New York, NY 10001.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Bring on the tofu

Sign in the window of the Caribbean butcher shop down the street from my apartment:

Burnt cow face!
Goat head!
"Ya mon!"

I'm sure there's an awesome joke about cultural diversity in there somewhere, but I'm just way too grossed out to bother looking for it.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Scratch that

I'm the first to admit that I know very little about babies, and further that I have even less desire to learn any more about them. But there was this absurdly cute one on the D train this morning, and she did this absurdly cute thing where she pulled up her little pantleg and scratched her ankle, in a near-perfect imitation of adult behavior.

At that moment I was struck with a revelation, or something.

One thing I do know about babies is that sometimes, they just fucking scream and scream and scream, even after you feed them, change their shitty diapers, rock them, burp them, whatever. (This is one of many reasons why I won't be crapping one out. Like, ever.) The kid's not sick or injured, nothing seems to be really wrong, and it just keeeeeeps on screeching it's little lungs out.

What if the kid has an itch?

Imagine having a heinous itch, lacking the ability to scratch it, or to tell anyone the problem? Meanwhile, someone keeps sticking a bottle or a tit in your mouth, bouncing you up and down, thumping on your back, and talking retardo coochie-coochie baby talk in your face. I think I'd scream my guts out too. That's torture. Poor, cute little bastards.

One more reason not to have 'em, if you ask me. Babies, that is. Itches I can handle.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Helen's Highlight Reel

Friday, June 9, 2006 (4th anniversary of my arrival in New York):

  • Visited doctor for checkup, grievously hung over from yet another stupid work party. Discovered, when asked to disrobe, mortifyingly mismatched socks. Attempted unsuccessfully to convince doctor that skimpy open-in-back gown weighed 8 pounds while standing on lying bastard of a scale. Managed, shockingly, to pee in cup without peeing on hands.


  • After two years of constant online ridiculousness, finally met Dan and Renee in person, at Bronx Zoo. Watched enormous monkey spank his not-quite-so-enormous monkey. Watched gorillas eat both their own poo and the poo of others. Life = good.


  • Took Dan and Renee to Chelsea, because gayborhood is what I know. Ate and drank far, far too much, because that's what I do. Enjoyed self tremendously.


  • Engaged in heated altercation with cab driver who, based solely on my requested destination, referred to me as a "fucking whore." (Note: requested destination was neither a brothel nor a strip club, thereby rendering remark uncalled for, if not inaccurate.) Relinquished my right to report his psychotic behavior to the taxi commission by informing him I was the mayor's niece and would "own him by Monday." Don't ask why, as no answer exists. Made it home safely, albeit in different cab.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

  • Gaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh. Gaaaaah. Oy.


  • Percocet...


  • Yay!


  • HBO On Demand. Food. More food. Still more food. Mmmmm, food.


  • ...

Sunday, June 11, 2006

  • Made first venture to laundromat in new 'hood. Made up fake husband to dodge advances of scary (okay, ugly) dude who came in off the street to ask A) if I'm Puerto Rican, and B) Could he call me sometime? (No, and, uh, no. But thanks, though. No, really.)


  • Finished unpacking and organizing apartment. Socks now successfully matched. Remaining bubble wrap disposed of without further incident.
  • "Custer was a cunt. The end." - Calamity Jane
    Life = good.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

X-cuse me

The coolest part of X3 was sometime around the middle when I sneezed into my hand, but Kit thought I sneezed into her popcorn, and she got all grossed out and didn't eat any more of it.

Okay, that wasn't the coolest part. But it was up there.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Happy Satan Day!

I have no idea what the caption says, but I love me some Satan a la South Park.

6/6/06 is a special day here in the Ninth Circle. And for more than the glaringly obvious reasons, too. My reverence for all things evil is rooted fairly deeply in my family's history.

My grandfather was born in Brooklyn in 1910, to recent Italian immigrants. A couple of days later, a family friend casually asked, "what are you going to call the little devil?" A bad seed was unwittingly planted; Great Grandpa Giovanni, funny funny guy that he was, named his son Dante Lucifero. No shit. (The fact that my grandfather was pretty much Satan incarnate for most of his life is a story for another day. Right now we're happy, yay.)

It's clear, then, that I simply can't help it. The badness...it's in my genes. And today...it was made for people like me.

So how does one properly celebrate such a rare and momentous occasion as this?

For the NY kids, I recommend getting totally hammered at Duff's and calling in sick tomorrow. Then, when you get fired, you can sell your soul to the devil to become rich and famous. Everybody wins!

Denver monkeys should go see the Giraffes tonight, along with Stephanie Bastard, Raging Intestine, elusive Denver Post music critic Ricardo Baca (poo on you, Ricky!) and a mildly retarded host of others. I actually wish I was there. Kinda.

You could, of course, go see the Omen remake, or crank out some Slayer.

And for the rest of you lazy bastards, I'll make it easy to revere the evil...Maiden loves you.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Reason #856 why living alone totally rules:

Because yesterday, after unpacking some fragile items, I spread the leftover bubble wrap out on the hardwood floor and spent 45 minutes riding my roll-y chair over it. In my underwear.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Helen: Here and Now

I decided today that I definitely hate Natalie Merchant. Between that phony nasal drone and the pretentious I-went-to-art-school-to-piss-off-my-parents lyrics, she can totally fuck off.

In other news, Kurt Cobain is dead, and O.J. Simpson killed his wife.

I am nothing if not completely in touch with today's relevant issues.
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