he will 'rize' again

The Lovely Jess and I tackle religion and offer some suggested improvements...

Jess: Check out this search term: "i need some hooping material for sermons"

Yours Truly: What's hooping?

Jess: I have no idea.

YT: I automatically assumed it was for a Baptist sermon in the Deep South. I have no idea why.

Jess: I was thinking hula hoop.

YT: I was thinking it was a form of religious dance. Like stepping or krumping in the name of Jesus.

Jess: I want Jews for Jesus to krump instead of handing out literature.

YT: "I krump for Jesus. Do you?"

Jess: "Jesus krumped while carrying a cross on his back."

YT: "My boss is a Jewish krumper."

Jess: "Jesus krumped for your sins."

YT: "Jesus krumped on water."

YT: "And on the third day He rose again from the dead. He krumped into Heaven..."

YT: Right? That's part of the Apostle's Creed?

Jess: Yes

Jess: Jesus and Judas had a krump off after the Last Supper.

YT: Yes. And Jesus lost apparently.

YT: Judas was the dopest krumper in all of Galilee.

Jess: Judas krumped off the chain.

YT: Is "dopest" still in use?

Jess: I don't think so.

YT: Or did I just sound like Katie Couric when she tries to sound all hip?

Jess: Kinda

YT: Crap. Oh, but let's face it... I'm not far off from Katie Couric.

Jess: You're less orange.

YT: And nowhere near as perky.

YT: Nor are my gums as huge and unsettling as hers.

Jess: Indeed

Jess: Man, religion would be so much more fun if everyone was krumping.

A very good point, don't you think? Pope Benedict, if you're reading this -- and I know you are -- The Lovely Jess and I respectfully suggest that should Vatican III ever convene, you all consider krumping as one of the changes applied to the Mass. Perhaps this exciting new element will help restore depleted congregations to pre-scandal numbers. Think about it.

hey, mr. producer... i'm talking to you, sir

... It's not too late to change your mind! This doesn't have to be. There's still time to right this wrong. Stop now before it's too late and this travesty becomes ... gasp... an original cast recording. Oh, the humanity!

What on earth am I jabbering on about, you ask? Apparently, The Hoff's life story is about to be turned into a musical. I've gotten several emails already today informing me of this development and really, I'm at a loss for further comment. It's just too much to absorb. However, I will say this: If Andrew Lloyd Webber or Frank Wildhorn sign on to this project at any point, my head WILL explode. Mark my words.


Via mejack; Joe; and Sheila. Thanks, guys!

the horse is not dead yet. soon, but not quite yet

Greetings once again, errant Googlers! I'm here to answer some of the questions that inadvertently led you to my humble domain. These are pressing issues so let's get crackin', shall we?

"Does wilson from mad hot ballroom has a crush on some 1 if he does show me a picture of that girl"
Wow, you really don't understand how Google works, do you, sweetums? What you need is not a search engine, but rather, a private investigator with a Magic 8 Ball and three unused wishes granted by a genie. So, uh, yeah... good luck with that.

"Is it normal for the pussy to itch after being fingered by a male?"
Sure it's normal... if said finger is riddled with poison ivy or was dipped in itching powder prior to um, application. Woman, get thee to your gyno! STAT!

While the following weren't phrased in the form of a question (you people would be SO busted if this was Jeopardy!), they are still worthy of a mention:

:: story of lesbian woman hunting young girls pussy
Is it just me or do you immediately conjure up an image of a lesbian dressed in safari gear chasing after her prey with a big net?

:: crazy bitch goes off on a telemarketer
I'm thinking a telemarketer searched for this term. Why? Because any woman who goes off on a telemarketer is not a crazy bitch in my book. She's a heroine and should be revered.

:: wife has well spanked bare ass
Question to the, uh, I'm assuming husband who search for this: Are you just looking for a random photo of any wife with a spanked bare ass? Or are you researching if your own spouse is stepping out for some S&M and a little sumpin' sumpin' on the side? If so, might I direct you to the PI who is helping out with the whole Wilson's Crush Investigation?

:: dry hump sleeping niece
I have your IP address and I'm calling the authorities.

:: in the nuts vulnerable
Is there anyone who isn't vulnerable in that region? Besides someone wearing a cup or a codpiece made of steel?

:: feline anal leakage
One more reason I'm glad I don't have a cat.

Want more answers to hard-hitting questions? Check it out!

:: a public service announcement
:: customer service
:: gettin' more mileage
:: the keyword is... random
:: more fun with keywords
:: my unhealthy obsession with statcounter

some (nasally) words of wisdom from curly mcdimple

When laid up with a gnarly head cold (yes, I'm sick again. I know! WTF?!?!), it's best not to watch a film such as... oh, I don't know, say... Sophie's Choice. The ensuing crying fits courtesy of the sensitive subject matter do NOTHING to help one's congested state and limited Puffs Plus supply, let me tell you.

So, if you're illin' and looking to pass the time, stick with lighter fare such as The Ringer. Sure it's tasteless but well, so is everything I've eaten in the past week. Here's to consistency!

And that's one to grown on.

i don't see dead people

So, um, Mickey Spillane just died. I'm going to go ahead and add him to the growing pile of recently-deceased people I thought were already dead. Joining Spillane on this list are Red Buttons, Shelley Winters, Nipsey Russell, Lou Rawls and Al "Grandpa Munster" Lewis. I totally gasped at the news of each and every one of their demises, partly out of sadness but mostly because I thought they had already bought it. But they were still alive and kicking all that time. Who knew?

I have GOT to start reading the obit page a bit more closely. No chance of me ever winning The Dead Pool, now is there?

crickets

I've nothing to say. Life is status quo. Nothing new or unusual is happening. I'm coasting at a comfortable speed. I'm not numb but rather, kind of content. Although, I have had a fire in my belly and rediscovered something that has been sorely lacking for quite some time -- motivation and drive as far as work is concerned. Not that I want to be in my current gig forever. Oh no, I've got books and screenplays to write and major designs on a fabulous life of luxury. But for the foreseeable future, this job o' mine is more than okay. That's where my focus has been the past week or so, at the expense of this here blog.

My stories are dormant for the moment. I haven't really reached inside and felt around for something to share with you since I finished my saga a few months back. Nothing's brewing at the moment and it's frustrating but I've discovered that if I don't press, something of worth will surface in the creative reaches of my scary brain eventually.

I'm bound to get pissed off or fired up soon enough. I'm far too mercurial for this wave of complacency to last. Once it wears off, it won't be long before I'm back to ragging on Peppermint Patty, fretting about my closeted status with my parents, questioning the sensitivity of one Alan Alda and the rest of my patented brand of nonsense again.

Kindly bear with me until the inspiration -- or the hysteria -- comes. Thanks.

they feel the need, the need for speed[os]

A snippet from an email exchange between The Lovely Jess and me today...

Me: Here are the photos I took yesterday. I had to go rub one out after looking at these two hot pieces off ass.

Jess: AWESOME

Me: Admit it -- these two hotties have you all hot and bothered. Fess up now.

Jess: Totally. It's been me, the Magic Wand and that mental image for days.

For more images of these two babes and other hot bods, please visit my Brighton Beach Flickr set. Perhaps after viewing them, you too will be, um, inspired.

Never let it be said that I don't give you guys anything...

ole! ole! ole! ole! oooooooole! ole!

To my Italian readers... felicitazione! To the French among you, good game and better luck next time. Penalty kicks make for an exciting finish but at the same time, it's a sucky way to lose.

Speaking of sucky endings, what was Zinedine Zidane thinking? His last game ever and he loses his cool and gets a red card?! Sacre bleu! Not the ending he -- or all of France -- envisioned, I suppose.

Regardless, it was an exciting World Cup. Congratulations, Italy!

Photo: (AP Photo/Jasper Juinen)

Update: The charming Sean T. Conrad snapped a cool picture of the celebrants on the streets of New York's Little Italy. Check it out.

firecracker firecracker, boom boom boom

Happy um, 4th of July, everybody! I apologize for the delayed Independence Day wishes but I've been a busy girl the past few days. Last night I hosted my second annual rooftop fireworks viewing party and it required a bit o' prep work. The result, I'm happy to report, was a success, if I do say so myself.

I have a stunning view of lower Manhattan on the roof of my building. The Macy's fireworks set off on a barge near the South Street Seaport were this close to us. My apartment is tiny, the fixtures need updating and the occasional unwanted visitor gives me pause but I have to say that my location, particularly on the Fourth, makes my exorbitant rent worthwhile.

So yes, the party went well, despite the size of my studio and the amount of bodies packed into it before and after the fireworks show. It was, uh, cozy. Yeah, cozy. That's the word.

Mmm... The Lovely Jess made the most kick-ass guacamole I've ever had the good fortune to eat. Stephanie made an awesome cilantro salad with a most intoxicating aroma. Zoe hooked me up with a delicious batch o' homemade potato salad and Ruth came bearing chocolate chip cookies that almost gave me the big "O" after one bite. I and my guests were well fed, yo. Thanks to everyone who graced me with gifts of food and beverage and most importantly -- your company. 'Twas much appreciated.

Mama and Papa McDimple even made a showing! My ma, despite her thick Scottish accent and abiding love and devotion to her ancestral land, was wearing a shirt that said: AMERICA. Perhaps it's the PMS talking but it was so damn cute, I could just cry right now. My father entered my abode toting vodka, gin, flavored crisps (potato chips for you Yanks) and two bottles of wine in a Green Bay Packers duffel bag. Not sure where he acquired that since we were always a Giants household but whatevs. Who am I to quibble when the contents were so savory? Oh and there's also the matter of me not really giving a rat's ass about football...

I really love watching my friends interact with my parents. They are always mutually smitten. During a private chat, my father complimented me on the company I keep and that, to me, is high and valuable praise, indeed. Good stuff. Oh, and if memory serves me correctly, I only had to do one Scottish to American translation for one of my friends. Otherwise, there was no "language" barrier. As my da would say, brilliant!

Unlike last year, I didn't take any pictures of the fireworks because my efforts one year ago yielded this unfortunate result. Linus, however, had two cameras and tripods on hand to catch this year's impressive display from atop my roof (right).

If you haven't checked out Linus's photostream, I urge you to do so right this very instant. His pictures take my breath away. Linus lives just a few blocks from me so he photographs a lot of the sights I see just about every day. Despite my familiarity with some of his subjects, I still gasp, squeal and clasp my hands together in wonder at his unique and gifted perspective.

Linus also has one of them there blogs and if his way with a lens isn't enough to make you envious, the man crafts words in ways that will stimulate your intellect one moment and break your heart the next.

He also knows his way around a beer selection. I'm currently enjoying his contribution to last night's festivities: Dead Guy Ale. Linus, this shit is good! My subsequent buzz is as robust and full-bodied as this delicious brew. Thank you!!!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to crack open another one...

vehicular manslaughter

My friend, The Hot Russian, emailed me this little gem which she found on Perez Hilton.com today.

I didn't get a chance to post about The Hoff's latest eyesore as I was on my way out to see The Devil Wears Prada (TOTAL eye candy, by the way! LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVED IT!). I came home ready to write something cutting and snarky and lo and behold, Sheila already has it covered. Sweet! She and I have a long and storied history covering The Hoff, you see.

Sheila, I echo your sentiments in that The Hoff was badgering those young women to get in his car in a most creepy fashion. If I may, I'd like to take my outrage a step further. After all that pleading and disturbing hip thrusting, the motherfucker had the audacity to eject that chick because of the distance to her home?!?! Are you joking me? That's more incredible than banging one's head on a chandelier whilst shaving.

What a dick! Certainly all that money he made from Baywatch ensures that The Hoff shouldn't feel the gas pinch. Cheap prick that he is. It's official: The Hoff is a jiz bag.