and the internet continues to churn out the weirdest crap EVER!
this is today’s headline on yahoo:
why don’t i have million-dollar hair?
(after i left my hair up in a ponytail for two days last semester)
by the same token, why isn’t nicholas cage’s hair insured for at least TWO million dollars?
i found out today that for one of my journalism classes, i need to create a twitter AND a tumblr. we need to find our own “beats,” which is essentially a topic on which we will focus most of our posts. i am so torn between cultural commentary and fashion that i decided i would just post this video of guinea pigs eating watermelon every day for the whole semester so that when my professor finally checks the site, it’s like the scene from “the shining” where wendy finds out that jack just wrote “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy” for the entire stay at the overlook hotel.
and then when she thinks she is done scrolling, that picture at the end of “the shining” shows up:
i went on vacation for two weeks. and i can’t stop watching the princess diaries. this is like my phase when i would watch goodfellas all day, making time only for the bathroom, the kitchen, and the gym but it’s not nearly as severe. julie andrews, hbic? YES
i went on vacation for two weeks, hence the lack of posts. on that trip i found out that i’m actually really pretty…
INTERNET JUNK:
- weird facebook tags
- i was on aim the other day when i realized that people can still make/have profiles. oh, you.
- through an unusual series of events, i found videos of “jessi slaughter.” i’d love to know what cocktail of drugs this child is on because that slurring is wild. it’s reminiscent of judy garland’s last years of life. somewhere over the rainbow, bitches.
so is june the month everyone drinks over-reaction juice?
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while i was looking for the gem of a story above, i found this:
I SUBMITTED TEN PUNS TO A PUN CONTEST, HOPING ONE WOULD WIN BUT NO PUN IN TEN DID…..
sooooo, nothing new in the nannying world. both the girls fell in love with “hey jude” by the beatles after i played it in the car and now they know the lyrics. it’s not zeppelin or dylan, but it’s close. the little one, amanda, said britney spears had a “pretty voice.” i also discovered that everything louis ck ever said about children was so spot on.
facebook people know this already but i am leaving golds gym and joining la boxing for mma training…(more like kickboxing classes, but shhhh). it’s going to be like “million dollar baby” episode of it’s always sunny.
edit: it’s too bad they asked me to fork over $74 dollars a month to learn how to kick butt. looks like i am going to have to resort to rocky training rather than doing it in a nice, climate-controlled environment.
warm weather always equates to people acting like tornadoes behind the wheel. i don’t know if it’s because a forced sense of safety is instilled into everyone in the winter because of black ice and slush so once you can go 55 in a 30 without careening into a snow bank it’s like
all over the damn interstate. here are some handy tips for those of you that become total yankee doodle d-bags in the car.
- situation: it’s 84 degrees and slightly breezy outside; a six-year-old with a lot of life ahead of him decides that he will bike to the park today. he drives down a road with a very small shoulder. i’m in my whip driving on the opposite side of the street when i see that you are approaching me from the other direction, the kid on the bicycle in between us. you don’t want to hit the youngster, so instead of stopping and waiting for me to pass, you cross the line (usually two solid lines, unlike the rendition below) which is both an illegal move and puts my life and the child’s in danger.
i don’t want to play chicken with you like that one scene from stand by me. if the pedestrian or biker is ON YOUR SIDE OF THE ROAD, YOU ARE THE ONE THAT NEEDS TO STOP OR SLOW DOWN.
- situation: it’s so beautiful outside that only robert frost or ernest hemingway could do the description justice. you are distracted by the way the sun hits the stop sign that you begin to drift into my lane, cutting me off and then over-correcting yourself and almost hitting another driver. pay attention to ur driving, bro. please don’t turn me into a paraplegic because you’re having a lester burnham IT’S HARD TO STAY MAD WHEN THERE’S JUST SO MUCH BEAUTY IN THE WORLD moment. do it on the sidewalk, or in the backyard, but not on the road, plz.
- back seat, windows up, that’s the way i like to….keep my dog from jumping out in the middle of a busy four lane road. when your little pup is in the front seat letting his tongue soak up the summer breeze and the window is all the way down and he practically has his hind legs sticking out, it’s scary to the rest of us because we don’t want to become “that guy.” not all of us have michelin on our side!
- not related to summer, some dude flipped me off hardcore when i stopped at a yellow light about to go red. this prompts me to say road rage sparingly. i’ve been driving for almost 3 years and nobody has ever exposed their middle finger to me, probably because i am a good driver. my new nannying job is about thirty minutes and a highway change away from where i am used to driving but for some reason the people who drive there are maniacs. i’ve gotten beeped at three times (and the subsequent hand motions) for….being stuck at a red light. here, let me plow through the three cars in front of me so you can get to your shitty 9-5 office job on time. whatever, get mad at me if i do something stupid because i will understand but don’t let that vein pop out of your forehead over something trivial, like me making a left turn. cuz when you’re like this..
i’m all…
at u getting ur titties knotted over banal stuff. bye h8er!
i hate teenagers. this chick was in a christmas tree parking lot sobbing/arguing with her mom over her cellphone getting taken away. bad pic but she was wearing black converse, b/w striped knee-highs, a black mini skirt, and a shirt with some twilight kid on the front that said “so the lion fell in love with the lamb.”
this picture is from when my cousin nico, his friend ian, dom and i went on a joy ride and we whitney houston’ed all the way to downtown schenectady- born to run by bruce springsteen, with a little bit of help from my friends by joe cocker, forever young by bob dylan and old man by neil young. i remember the “set list” because we totally murdered it. nothing is better than that first nice day of spring and you’re not the one chauffeuring everyone around for once and you get to sing at other cars driving 65 down the highway knowing that nothing else matters in that moment but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life..OOPS, i guess i just quoted american beauty, didn’t i? my stupid little life rules.
i was hanging with my friends brian and mike when i went to go look up a youtube video on my iphone and apparently i looked this up previously. i was like, “WHO DID THIS??” and then they reminded me that i was the one who looked this up the last time we were together. i was curious, okay??
i bet there’s rich folks eating in a fancy dining car. they’re probably drinking coffee and eating stale corn dogs
curiosity got the best of me and i watched the drake “over” video.
before i start this review, i’d like to clarify something. last year i said that my children would be just like this one day. while i still want my miniature johnny cash, i’m also ready to be a cool mom:
i went to bogies on a saturday night which is exactly what you shouldn’t do unless you’re going to see a band. this place is a tuesday/thursday night for almost everyone.
attire: like the abbott, nix any excess clothing. i mean, it’s not as bad, but it’s still hot as balls.
smells: nothing stood out to me. the scent is defined by body sweat and a whole cluster of deodorant, cologne and perfume.
music: this place rules because you can go one night when a dj is spinning records and the next night a screamo band is flopping around. however, on the saturday i attended, a bunch of pretty good bands played in the pit area (i suppose you could call it that), but i walked over toward the bar to take down some notes, and summer breeze was playing
i was half-expecting two 30-something losers to start making out to bob segar’s “turn the page” but it never happened. i did see a paraplegic receive a lap dance from a lady friend and it made up for the tonsil hockey that never came to be.
lines: saturday night my friend molly and i got inside in under 30 seconds. however, i went out with some friends several weeks ago to bogies and we waited on line for at least 45 minutes and i ended up bailing because i am truly a 60 year old woman who, on friday nights, just wants to watch movies on the couch with a blanket and tea. and get her back scratched.
bouncers: i didn’t include this in my last review but it’s worth noting. i was able to talk to the bouncers to a good 20 minutes due to the lack of people waiting to get inside. i didn’t catch their names, but they told me they liked my pink doc martens. alas, they’re good in my book! they both were nice and explained that they don’t want to be rude to the patrons unless they have to be that way. for reference, one of the bouncers at the abbott was definitely a vietnam war vet. he’s not the kind of guy who would warm up to you immediately but buy him a hot breakfast at a cheap diner and he probably has a million and a half stories to tell. the other bouncer was juiced up, orange, had gelled hair combed downward. he had a twinge of sadness in his eyes, probably because he has to work two jobs just to keep support himself (there is no way he is not in the construction business during the day time. i can guarantee there is a barbed wire tattoo on his bicep even if he didn’t take off his white hoodie).
moral of the story: bogies is one of those places that is so eclectic, it just depends on the type of person you are and what night you choose to go that i can’t deliver any kind of legitimate answer on whether or not you should check this place out. for the most part, i say
the its lauren servideo college of farts and sciences presents the first of a two-part abstract study on albany’s favorite college bars: the abbott tavern and bOgieS. they’re actually really biased reviews/survival guides but “comparative analysis” and “abstract study” sounds more fancy, like sticking your pinky out when holding a drink.
the name “abbott tavern” might conjure up images of irish men breaking beer bottles over each others faces and in general just getting really rowdy like irish dudes do, but that’s not it…at all.
attire: go as close to naked as you can. there are maybe four sources of ventilation, and to avoid going too much into the next part, it is an abnormally small space. i mean, it’s a house. imagine stuffing 100 people into your living room and closing the door. the first time i came here was yesterday, april 29th, and even though it was 50 degrees at night, i knew i had to suck it up and wear a light shirt and some pants. i usually wear jeans over spandex, two layers of shirts and socks under my combat boots if i go out at night (which is…never. i have gone out 7 times the whole year). that could pass at a house party but i get goose bumps thinking about what would have happened if i showed up like that. TERRIFYING.
hotness: it’s beyond the sweat that you’re conscious of. you know it’s hot but then you go to wipe your forehead or something and it’s like the gulf of mexico is just chillin on your face but you didn’t even realize it. so in essence, a) step outside periodically 2) buy a beer and just rub the cold bottle all over your body to avoid looking like this episode of the twilight zone:
smells: this place smells like barf. i know i use barf a lot to describe things that are gross, i.e. “there was an eyelash cooked into my macaroni and cheese (barf)!!” but i am not speaking metaphorically when i say this place really does smell like vomit. the dance floor is okay but the bar area reeks of bile. it doesn’t help when a lot of the guys think it’s okay to have axe double as a deodorant and cologne. i mean c’mon, step up. at least use drakkar noir. but anyways, i have a hypersensitive nose but i could still stand the scent of the place. it’s not the end of the world, just be a mouth breather for the night
music: i know that this won’t speak true to every night of the week since they change djs, but it was total club music. everybody mouthed the words and sang along to artists i honestly have never heard of. i think i heard a black eyed peas song and jay-z’s “empire state of mind” and one song from middle school but that was it. the dj nailed it though..all his transitions (is that what you call them? when one song starts moving into another one?) were really fluid.
lines: i did not have to wait long outside to get in, but it was a thursday night, so take that into account i guess. the line for the bathroom wasn’t bad either! however, the toilet paper was m.i.a. as was the handle to the sink and the mirror. i peeped some people getting drinks and the bartenders wasted no time in delivering the bottles to the patrons so long as you weren’t being a s.o.b. and snapping your fingers in their face asking for a beverage.
i hate sounding like a pretentious smut but everyone who annoys the everliving shart out of everyone when they’re drunk goes to the abbott tavern to have a good time. i would say 20, maybe 25% people there that night were just there to chill and find someone to boink. it’s nothing to be uptight about, and it was fun to count the amount of dudes who employed the d.e.n.n.i.s. system and t0 see the gals who hardcore fell for it. all in all, this place blows if you are sober so if you do go in such a state, raise hell. and bring good friends. pretend it’s a night at the roxbury.
party on boys and girls
bogies review will hopefully be up sunday..going saturday night for the first time with a notepad, 10 dollars and a dream
psych majors, riddle me this: is it okay to listen to “layla piano exit” by derek and the dominos on loop while you do your homework?
what does this say about me? what if i said i half agreed with karen hill when she said
“I know there are women like my best friends who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriends gave them a gun to hide, but I didn’t. I got to admit the truth, it turned me on.”
what if i said i still watch david after dentist and laugh?
what if i said sometimes i put on ‘hey jude’ and skip to the na na na na na part? well, i will usually play the part where p.mccart goes “you have found her, now go and get her.” that part speaks to me. i think my worst nightmare after dying alone and the ocean is finding out someone liked me, like, really liked me, maybe even loved me and they never told me and it’s the day before my wedding to a guy i don’t really love but i have to get married so i can live out the Catholic dream of popping out children and wait….this is a scene from the graduate. but even still, i don’t want that to happen. it won’t, because males don’t like me in that fashion, despite the fact that in pictures my boobs look like someone took the blur tool to them in photoshop. remember the bro code conspiracy? yeah..
what if i said i was trying really hard to learn how to do this? i can be “that guy” at parties
what if i said that one time i came home crying from a middle school dance and my dad played ‘streets of philadelphia’ and ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ for me as i sobbed into my pillow (it was my only moment of teenage wasteland, so shut up).
