haircut

Victoria Beckam, William Sledd, and Maggie.

balls swalled

That's what somebody was looking for when they found my blog.

A Love Letter to Ann Coulter

This is fabulous. And she's the devil. Crazy bony-ass-man-looking bitch.

Here's the transcript:

"Dear Ann:

You used to be fun; at least funny. At least gently and amusingly insane, but girlfriend, you’ve changed! The thousand-yard stare you’ve acquired in the last couple of years says lonely nights, too much wine and insecurity about the future of your career. Where to now, my sweet fascist? Another one of your silly books? More hilarious appearances on Hannity & Colmes? Bill Maher has to be tired of you by now.

You’re anything but stupid and by now , you must see the writing on the wall. You’ll never have a real place with the Beltway in crowd, as they see you as a northeastern, hickoid, pro wrestler, Nascar type with a degree from Cornell. I mean, really, Ann; where can it go from here? Ann, I think I have the answer, in fact, I know I do.

I want to hire you, Ann. I want you to come and work for me. I want you to be my “Ann Friday,” my housekeeper, beekeeper, floor, chimney and minesweeper, my window-washing, grocery-buying, dinner-cooking, obsequious, submissive concubine-domestic.

You will laugh at my jokes, celebrate my victories and lament my failures. You will praise my friends and vow great harm upon all who oppose me. You will treat me like a god, a guru, a mentor – and the best night in the sack you’ve ever had. You will carry my bags, wash my cars, walk my dogs and turn your savings over to me. You will massage Susan Sarandon’s aching shoulders, whip up vegan delights for Hanoi Jane Fonda, and loofah Barbra Streisand’s stretch marks.

But most of all, Ann, you will just shut the fuck up.

I can offer you a life of obedient servitude on my compound; in your time with me, you will learn much. You will learn that America is made up of people from all races, walks of life and sexual orientation and that it’s all OK. You will learn to be patient and kind. You will learn the meaning of the word “respect” and memorize every line of Caddyshack. You will listen to The Ramones, Black Sabbath and the Brides of Funkenstein. You’re a figure of fun and I plan on having fun with that figure. You will learn who your daddy is, that’s for sure.

But mostly, Ann, you will just the fuck up.

Come on, Anne, ya fuckin’ psycho; let’s do this!

Henry"

just in case you were wondering...

...what I would look like if I ever broke my wrist, here it is.



Pretty, huh? i fell ON MY ASS at work, 2 inches from hitting the wall with my face, so i figure it would be best to land on my hand. I'm in a little bit of pain, and small things like hooking my bra, buttoning up my pants, wiping myself, taking a shower and starting the car have become a nightmare. i'm supposed to go to the doctor next week for another x-ray and to see when i'll be able to take this cast off.

this is it for now. typing is hard too. update soon.

pluto

This can't be good for his self-esteem. Pluto, we all feel like you sometimes...

eagle vs shark

I've been waiting anxiously for Eagle vs Shark to come out, and guess what? It's out today! But guess what? It's not playing anywhere in Indianapolis. And I'm furious with that, as you might imagine. So if you live somewhere where this movie will be playing please go watch it and let me know how much you loved it and how much Indianapolis fucking blows for not picking it up!

s l o w a n d b a r e l y h e r e

So I have moved to my new apartment and this is now my third week here. I love it so far, everything I would need on a daily basis (besides my job) is pretty much walking distance from here: Target, movie theaters, grocery stores, an Apple store, shopping malls, restaurants (russian, thai, brazilian, japanese, chinese, you name it) - everything right around the corner. But since nothing is perfect in this world of mine, wireless Internet here sucks. I can pick up one open signal if I place 1/3 olf my computer on the edge of the desk that sits in my small and improvised office. I will be posting a photo that displays the fragility of my Internet situation tomorrow from work, because of course, the network at home is not stable enough to wait for all those ENORMOUS PIXELS FROM MY GIGANTIC 500K JPEG PHOTO TO UPLOAD. God damn it, me and all those pixels trying to get online. What the fuck, right?

But of course, the beautiful provider of my very expensive cable TV will also be allowing me to use the Internet comfortably from my very own rented home for the mere price of $30 some dollars a month. What a deal. Thanks Comcast, you rock! I could be out there jogging or spending my hours in the crazy outdoors, but you sure know how to keep me in here and watch my ass get bigger by the minute. Comcast, you... silly... cable provider!

Work has been crazy busy and I haven't had time to do much besides actual work, which totally blows. Hope this trend changes soon.

Here are some things that have been occupying my time or rocking my world: my best friend's home-made lettuce wraps, Paris Hilton in jail, Amy Winehouse, Patty Griffin, new photos and prints I bought from Talbott Street Art Fair, Icy-Hot patch to heal the crazy pain I had on my neck for 3 days after spending the night on a really hard couch, and of course my new 26'' flat screen TV (I had one ridiculously banged up TV that went to the trash before the move. I could only watch really bright shows on it, because the darks were REALLY DARK. Now I can watch shows I really like, instead of shows I pick based on contrast).

I'll be hooking up my new high-speed cable tomorrow, so more to come!

Because my sister asked me to

Even shorter!

We both have been working really hard

No words could express how great this is

This is all via Kottke. (BELIEVE ME, it's worth every second of it.)

It all started here:


...so they responded...


...and this is the sequel.


I love you, internet.

Another movie post about movies

Yesterday I went to the movies thinking that I was going to watch Spiderman 3, which really is not my kind of film, but whatever, I figure I might as well watch it so I can see if it's really worth the buzz. And I also wanted to see what Minus' apartment looks like on screen and if it the fiction version resembles her real living conditions, but it turns out that the movie theatre I went to was not showing SP3 because it's the only theatre in the city that's got some sense.

So because I was already there and because I had already bought a strawberry smoothie that cost me 4 whole dollars, and because that theater has the most freaking comfortable chairs I have ever seen in the whole entire universe, I stayed and watched Year of the Dog - just because I really liked the poster.


The website is pretty awesome too. Turns out that it was a lovely movie, funny but very charming with a bit of sadness that made want to run home and hug my dog as tight as I could. (which I did later on in the evening, right after going to Outback and eating chicken wings. Apparently my sympathy for poor little murdered animals didn't last too long.)

By the way, I googled Year of the Dog so I could find a link to a good review and post it here, and this what I found first. So in case you were wondering about DMX latest CD, it is filled with "hyper-aggressive flow and straightforward, barklike chants". But if you want to read a review about the movie, here it is.

And oh, about that Spiderman, here's the real version from MSNBC (the video makes it extra special):
"What began as a faint popping in a 9-year-old boy’s ear — “like Rice Krispies” — ended up as an earache, and the doctor’s diagnosis was that a pair of spiders made a home in the ear."

nobody puts baby in the corner

Exactly. I'm going.

I already bought my ticket online just in case other cheeseballs like me decide to show up and then it'll be sold out. We don't want that.

I am soooo excited! I remember the first time I watched Dirty Dancing back in Brazil, on my parent's VCR, and then the other 500 times that came after that, which is why I know at least 90% of the lines in the entire movie and every facial expression Patrick Swayze makes. Then I actuallty saw him in Chicago about 4 years ago and seeing his wrinkled old face just crushed by dreams, but memories of beautiful Johnny Castle still live inside of me. It's going to be amazing watching it at the theatre, I might cry. I know I will.

Now go carry a watermelon.

PETS

I know I'm not allowed to post things I haven't created in this blog anymore, at least until I get my credibility as a blogger back, but I couldn't resist it. I got this from a co-worker this morning.

PETS

Adam and Eve said, "Lord, when we were in the garden, you walked with us every day. Now we do not see you any more. We are lonesome here, and it is difficult for us to remember how much you love us."

And God said, I will create a companion for you that will be with you and who will be a reflection of my love for you, so that you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how selfish or childish or unlovable you may be, this new companion will accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourselves."

And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam and Eve.
And it was a good animal.
And God was pleased.

And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and Eve and he wagged his tail.

And Adam said, "Lord, I have already named all the animals in the Kingdom and I cannot think of a name for this new animal."

And God said, " I have created this new animal to be a reflection of my love for you, his name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG."

And Dog lived with Adam and Eve and was a companion to them adored and loved them.

And they were comforted.

And God was pleased.

And Dog was content and wagged his tail.

After a while, it came to pass that an angel came to the Lord and said, "Lord, Adam and Eve have become filled with pride. They strut and preen like peacocks and they believe they are worthy of adoration. Dog has indeed taught them that they are loved, but perhaps too well."

And God said, I will create for them a companion who will be with them and who will see them as they are. The companion will remind them of their limitations, so they will know that they are not always worthy of adoration."

And God created CAT to be a companion to Adam and Eve.

And Cat would not obey them. And when Adam and Eve gazed into Cat's eyes, they were reminded that they were not the supreme beings.

And Adam and Eve learned humility.

And they were greatly improved.

And God was pleased..

And Dog was happy.

And Cat didn't give a shit one way or the other.

I will become a decend blogger

Ok, so officially it's been a month I actually posted something here that wasn't a link to a video, a photo or an external link. On March 20, I posted about not posting. But a month before that I, on February 23, I had already posted again about not posting, so clearly I have developed a bullshit cycle so that my readers (???) won't completely leave me and so that my mom can see I'm alive. I am obviously full of it, and if I were the president of blogging, I would totally ban Legally Normal by lack of commitment and originality.

So in the spirit of trying to become a better blogger, and therefore a better human being, I have decided that I will be posting more regularly and I am not allowed to post videos or pictures anymore, unless I have something to add to them. And by adding, I mean at least a paragraph or something that I created with my very own brain.

I am pleased to say that I have officially made the list of links of Minus, and I need to live up to that.

So here are my first bits of original thoughts.

My roommate and I are no longer in good terms. He hasn't even cooked for me in like, 3 weeks. It all started with the day he called me from his car asking me if he could bring some girl over. Of course I said no. And you may think I'm an asshole, but believe me - he's been well aware that one of my main "rules" around here is that there is no sex-having at the spare bedroom of apt 112, which would be mine. I don't know why, and I really don't care if anybody else agrees or not, but I hate when I know people are having sex on the other side of the wall, and it's just not happening. So he made a big fuss about it, tried to yell at me over the phone, we argued, and I've been giving him the silent treatment since then. I don't even know why anymore, but I just want to make a statement, because you HAVE GOT to be crazy to try to yell at me. I mean, fucking crazy. I'm kinda over it by now, it's just that I'm just being lazy. I'll probably start a conversation sometime this week or ask him to bake me a cake.

In other news, I now have cable TV, which is totally and complete ruining my life. I am obsessed with I Love New York, and also the Flavor of Love girls, especially Becky Buckwild. You can see her in the following video, after 2:30 minutes. Actually I will soon have a post dedicated to her. Here's the video:


I don't know how to end this, so I'll end it by leaving with this beautiful piece of footage. Good night peeps, and enjoy the music.

Let's all pretend this is true

http://www.myheritage.com So according to them, these are my celebrities look alike. I don't want to look like Kelly Clarkson! Now it's your turn.

This is what the Minus' hiatus has done to me

Yay! Minus is back.

they've made my day happier

"Choice of Diseases" by Hal Sirowitz, from Father Said.

Now that I'm sick & have
all this time to contemplate
the meaning of the universe,
Father said, I understand why
I never did it before. Nothing
looks good from a prone position.
You have to walk around to appreciate
things. Once I get better I don't
intend to get sick for a while. But
if I do I hope I get one of those diseases
you can walk around with.

Employed

She just wants to be employed
for eight hours a day. She is not
interested in a career; she wants a job
with a paycheck and free parking. She
does not want to carry a briefcase filled
with important papers to read after
dinner; she does not want to return
phone calls. When she gets home, she
wants to kick off her shoes and waltz
around her kitchen singing, "I am a piece
of work."

The Invention of Fractions

God himself made the whole numbers: everything else
is the work of man.—Leopold Kronnecker

God created the whole numbers:
the first born, the seventh seal,
Ten Commandments etched in stone,
the Twelve Tribes of Israel —
Ten we've already lost —
forty days and forty nights,
Saul's ten thousand and David's ten thousand.
'Be of one heart and one mind' —
the whole numbers, the counting numbers.

It took humankind to need less than this;
to invent fractions, percentages, decimals.
Only humankind could need the concepts
of splintering and dividing,
of things lost or broken,
of settling for the part instead of the whole.

Only humankind could find the whole numbers,
infinite as they are, to be wanting;
though given a limitless supply,
we still had no way
to measure what we keep
in our many-chambered hearts.

"The Art of Disappearing" by Naomi Shihab Nye from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems.

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

(all of them via Writer's Almanac, a current favorite)

NYC

Just got back from a few days in New York. You can check out new photos here!

why you should keep crack away from grandma

Unwise Purchases

"Unwise Purchases" by George Bilgere from Haywire.

They sit around the house
not doing much of anything: the boxed set
of the complete works of Verdi, unopened.
The complete Proust, unread:

The French-cut silk shirts
which hang like expensive ghosts in the closet
and make me look exactly
like the kind of middle-aged man
who would wear a French-cut silk shirt:

The reflector telescope I thought would unlock
the mysteries of the heavens
but which I only used once or twice
to try to find something heavenly
in the windows of the high-rise down the road,
and which now stares disconsolately at the ceiling
when it could be examining the Crab Nebula:

The 30-day course in Spanish
whose text I never opened,
whose dozen cassette tapes remain unplayed,

save for Tape One, where I never learned
whether the suave American
conversing with a sultry-sounding desk clerk
at a Madrid hotel about the possibility
of obtaining a room
actually managed to check in.

I like to think
that one thing led to another between them
and that by Tape Six or so
they're happily married
and raising a bilingual child in Seville or Terra Haute.

But I'll never know.
Suddenly I realize
I have constructed the perfect home
for a sexy, Spanish-speaking astronomer
who reads Proust while listening to Italian arias,

and I wonder if somewhere in this teeming city
there lives a woman with, say,
a fencing foil gathering dust in the corner
near her unused easel, a rainbow of oil paints
drying in their tubes

on the table where the violin
she bought on a whim
lies entombed in the permanent darkness
of its locked case
next to the abandoned chess set,

a woman who has always dreamed of becoming
the kind of woman the man I've always dreamed of becoming
has always dreamed of meeting.

And while the two of them discuss star clusters
and Cézanne, while they fence delicately
in Castilian Spanish to the strains of Rigoletto,

she and I will stand in the steamy kitchen,
fixing up a little risotto,
enjoying a modest cabernet,
while talking over a day so ordinary
as to seem miraculous.

via The Writer's Amanac