ever wonder?

what a blogging genius looks like?

this certainly isn't it.

mama, what's vacation mean?

it's when people go somewhere. and they don't ever come back.

beautiful things and beautiful people.

a few things that really caught my attention this past week.

OMG I COULD NOT HAVE HATED THIS GIRL ANY MORE IF SHE WERE SPITTING ON ME.

god. i wish i had taken a video of her. trust. this girl is maybe the worst. ever. and by maybe i mean definitely.



right after i took this ed says to me 'you should turn off the camera sound effect if you're going to do things like that.' PFF what do you know anyways, ed?



so take the hate i had for that girl on the subway, turn it into jealousy and that's what's going on here. bums have it so easy...if you don't take into account every single other thing about their life.



how gorgeous is my best friend on her birthday? almost intolerably so.

fuck bill cosby.

i have to be honest: i really don't have the heart for this one. and it's not because i really love bill cosby or something. i mean sure. who doesn't? but because i can't really think of something that makes me feel anything about bill cosby.

short and sweet: fuck you for being so bland that it makes me uncomfortable. way to go.


interesting. i didn't think i could feel more awkward. mish acomps.

fuck michael phelps

i hate HATE when i can't find something i'm looking for; my keys, a perfect meal, lil' smokies, the dog (she's under the dresser), an unbelievable interview with michael fuck you phelps from monday night conducted by bob costas with special guest cal ripken.

I HATE IT.

this was going to be about how sure, michael phelps is the best athlete ever, and sure, he's cute as a button (if a button didn't ever go to the dentist and was related to dumbo), but he is without a shadow of a doubt! DUMB AS A BOX OF HAIR.

look at the facts:

1) he has to work out for what? fifteen hours a day, no? something like that. i don't think even amazing godbaby michael phelps can socialize or learn when he's swimming laps at 700 miles per hour for 2/3 of the day. but who knows! maybe he can. maybe his gigantic heart has legs and leaps out of his chest and goes on dates while his robot body keeps at it in the pool. who knows?

2) you eat TWELVE THOUSAND CALORIES A DAY. are you goddamn kidding me? you're gross. let's take it back to the 3rd grade. what is a calorie? if i remember correctly, a calorie is the measure of how much energy it takes to raise one gram of water 1 degree celsius. well alright. and as i learned today a calorie of food energy is actually a kilocalorie, or 1,000 calories. don't tell oprah! anyways, what does all that mean? nothing! but it was fun ( a.k.a. the opposite of what i think talking to michael phelps would be). but aside from all of that, 12.000 calories a day means you have basically got to be stuffing your face...all the time? right? is it face stuffing time all the time? i think it is. well! i bet that would be just riveting to hang around and watch.

3) you have a 'wing span' (please shoot the person that referred to a human's arm span as 'wing span'. that's more disgusting than phelps' diet) of 6' 7" but you are 6' 4". i'm going to put aside the fact that disproportionate limbs are something i find repulsive. i'll look at this objectively. i can say in absolute objectivity that is decidedly the most abhorrent thing in the entire universe. no one would ever want to be friends with you. or teach you. or go near you. you may touch them and that is beyond terrifying. you're awful. a demon. a plague. objectively speaking, of course.

4) so your teammates call you gomer? as in gomer pyle? right...the point of that character was that he was an idiot.

but all of this means nothing without your dumb mouth to prove it all! the piece d'resistance was this interview. OMG IT WAS SO AMAZING. and not just because it proved my point. actually yes. it is just because it proved my point.

so michael phelps is answering these questions, right? and bob costas is trying not to laugh at him, right? and he's talking about how serious he is when he's swimming, right? and he says how cal ripken was one of his heros growing up, right? and then bob costas says he has a surprise for him, right? and who's on the phone but CAL RIPKEN! CAL RIPKEN!!! and what does phelps do? literally doesn't even register the surprise, the gesture, or the experience AT ALL. stone face "ohhhh heeyyyyyy whoaaaaa cool nice to talk to you too. see you back in baltimore."

really? you've never met him before and just got done talking about how he was your hero when you were a child and inspired you to be the most douchiest guy in the world and that's what you have to say?

schmuck.

you're a schmuck. and i'm pissed. and i'm double pissed that i can't find that interview. that's how amazingly bad it was. they can't even post it.

also. you're perpetuating the plague of obesity that is killing this country. how about not talk about how you eat 12,000 cals a day? how about not? cause that puts you in the same boat as jackass and backyard wrestling and that's how kids die: by trying your stupid bullshit at home.

also. krissy and i aren't alone.

also.

what. are. you. doing. shame on you. who do you think you are, god? you can tell by the body language that the people on both sides of you couldn't be more pissed off to be seated next such a hobo. it's a wonder anna wintour didn't smack you right in your goofy face.

hey kids, lookadissss

thank you, olivia

i keep trying.

in my absolute boredom with my tasks today, i keep getting up to get something to eat, but the refrigerator* continuously insists on being empty. it's bullshit really.


*that is not my refrigerator. i don't drink soda.

this is the only thing i've ben able to comprehend all day.

let me tell you a little story.

last night i was drinking a beer with a straw. truue storeh!

fuck george clooney.

top ten reasons i say fuck george clooney:



10) ARE YOU EVER NOT SMIRKING??



9) apparently not. UGH. what a schmuck.



8) can you just get over it already? everyone always wonders why he doesn't just marry julia roberts...it's probably because they're the same person. yuck. i can only imagine what they're conversations are like: "GEORGE REMEMBER WHEN I SAID THAT THING!?! THAT THING THAT WAS HILAAAAAAARIOUS!??!!" "YEAH BUT JULIA - HELP ME ZIP UP MY DRESS!!! REMEMBER WHEN I SAID THAT REALLY HILARIOUS THING!?!? THAT TIME!?!?" shoot me.




7) do you even like being famous? like...i mean, really? anyone can enjoy the yacht trips around lake cuomo with cindy crawford and fabio. but when it really comes down to it and some 15 year old girl from salt lake city with braces comes running at you drooling with camera phone at the ready screaming "OMG DOCTOR RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSS!!!!!!!!!!" are you really still feeling it? maybe not really? you failed.



6) you and you're girlfriend with the motorcycle thing? who cares? did you need to go out THE NEXT NIGHT? was it to make sure everyone knew you totally wiped out on your chopper? who do you think you are, charlie sheen?



5) you are not charlie sheen.



4) also. sarah larson? way to go. i bet she picks her teeth at the table, too.



3) look at how cute my dog is. could you die? COULD YOU JUST DIE FROM THAT FACE?!?



2) wow george. you hang out with men? when did that start?



1) OMG YOU DIDN'T DISCOVER LAKE CUOMO. ENOUGH!

lil'.

i have a serious aversion to certain words, phrases, or proper names. lil' is one such contraction that i can't really deal with. to illustrate my point, i offer this story: i throw a holiday party every year with lots of crafts, yummy booze-y drinks, and homemade treats. last year i wanted to make pigs in a blanket, so i went to the grocery to get the pillsbury dough and the lil' smokies. when i got there i could not, for the life of me find the goddamn sausages. i wrestled with myself for a good 3 minutes, hovering next to a stock boy, trying to decide if i could, in fact, say the word "lil'" out loud, and in earnest. turns out i could not. so i huffed away and bought some other pint-sized sausage link.

they did not taste good. damn it.

other words i can't say without a slight shutter:

i've actually been known to say burro.


it looks so delicious! oh the injustice!


these are so goddamn amazing that i can't not order them...so i point. i'll be damned if you EVER hear me speak the name of this angelic creation. but then the waitress reads it out loud as she writes it down, all nonchalantly...as if the very words aren't melting the skin off babies' faces around the world.

prune.

last week krissy and i learned that ashley olsen breathe/smiles the word 'prune' when she's photographed in order to obtain the perfect pout. it’s so obvious now that you know! oh bless you once again saint ashley! i think it’s really sweet that she shared that. i haven’t mastered it yet but here are some attempts.




not perfect. but hey…no one gets it right every time.



also. is it me or is she a goddamn midget? i think she maybe escaped from lilliput or blefuscu and is just barely fooling us all with her ridiculous balenciaga heels.

exhibit a:

this is ashley with the sprouse brothers (a.k.a. zak and cody of the suite life with zak and cody fame). i think they're maybe 10 years old. i mean how tall can a 10 year old boy be?! and shes wearing platform heels! she is a mini mouse.