Amanda, you talk way too much.

FML: embarrassing spam

2009-03-18T12:20:00.000-07:00

My rant of the day: How the hell are these spam messages getting so sophisticated?!

So just a little while ago I got a message in my inbox -- work inbox, mind you. It was sent to several people in my company and the subject said, "Re: Facebook message: Beautiful Girl Dancing Extrahard Striptease!"

Since the sender said "Facebook Invitations" and there was an @facebook.com email address, I wondered what the hell was going on. I glanced at the preview window and within the body of the email it says, "Amanda is dancing on Striptease Dance Party, March 14, 2009! We're absolutely shocked!". With a link to a video. And in the video's freezeframe, the image of a girl stripping. Without her face showing.

FML.

Elizabeth Banks is a fraud

2008-12-16T22:02:00.000-08:00

So last week an old episode of Craig Ferguson was on. Elizabeth Banks was the guest and since I think she's pretty funny in her movies, I thought I'd give it go. Somewhere along the line, they got onto the subject of funny poop stories. Banks said she had a really good one, but it didn't happen to her; it happened to her friend. Or whatever. The story (my paraphrased version because I'm not going to sit through that interview again just to get it verbatim) below:

So Banks' friend was at a rough point in her life. Her boyfriend had just dumped her, she was feeling pretty low, so [Banks] introduced her to a friend of mine. He's a really nice guy, just the kid of guy that makes you feel good about yourself. They took a liking to each other and hooked up. The following morning, before he had to go to work, he told her what a great time he had, how much he liked her, to take her time getting ready and leaving his place, and to leave him her phone number.

Wait a sec -- this sounds familiar. I think I already know this story...

So the friend gets out of bed feeling great. She's kind of looking around his stuff, having the time of her life. She goes to the bathroom for her morning poop...

Hold on, I definitely know this story. Is she really passing this off as hers?

She goes to flush the toilet, but it doesn't work (Pause for Banks to turn to the audience and nod, "oh yeah!") Instead, she grabs a plastic bag, picks the poop straight out of the toilet, and ties the bag.

I KNOW THIS STORY I KNOW THIS STORY I KNOW THIS STORY! Where is it from?!

She's all dressed and ready to go. Before she leaves, she writes her phone number down and leaves it on the counter for the guy. She walks out of the apartment and just as the door clicks shut, she realizes... She left her baggie of poop on the counter.

FRAUD! YOU FRAUD! How dare you take this old joke / weird UK commercial and pass it off as your own story! Everyone knows the only kind of plagiarism that's acceptable is cheating on a History paper. You can't copy jokes; you can't steal laughter. You can't steal emotions!

I'm sure that reusing old jokes is pretty common on talk shows and such, but to completely copy a joke, citing it nearly word for word and using that as your main bit for your interview is just plain wrong. You pull that crap on the public and you actors are still considering a strike? Gah!

And by the way, I can't, for the life of me, find a video of that damn commercial. Does anyone else know this? Link it to me!

UPDATE: Aileen found the commercial I was talking about!! Here it is, embedded below:

treats

2008-11-25T17:29:00.000-08:00

I was staring at the treat bar in Petco today (hey, beats staring through the window of the children's day care) and was amazed at the different kinds of treats they had. Meat flavored. Low fat. Peanut butter. Peanut butter filling. Peanut butter with strawberry creme filling. I bought a couple of the low fat vanilla pretzels for the puppy (since her fat ass is a little overweight already) and because, admittedly... they're pretty good. In case you wanted to know, they really do taste like low fat vanilla. And for the record, the peanut butter with strawberry creme filling tastes like just that.

I know where I'm getting snacks for my next party... (Where else can you buy cookies by the pound?)

2 updates in 1 day? you's lucky!

2008-11-18T21:26:00.000-08:00

I feel left out when the cool MySpace kids have their vain photos, courtesy of Apple's Photo Booth. There may not be a shot of me in a sideways baseball cap, pursing my lips and doing a backwards peace sign, but I think this comes pretty close. Whaddaya think?

I think my favorite one is the Jay Leno one. Also, I can't think of a dumber effect than that lame light tunnel one. When, in a light tunnel, does your hair become part of the light? I don't get it.

3rd Rock From the Sun Star to Bare All

2008-11-18T21:13:00.000-08:00

Johnston Bares All For PETA Campaign

18 November 2008 5:37 PM, PST

Actress Kristen Johnston is showing off her slimline new look by stripping for a new People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals anti-cruelty ad.

The former 3rd Rock From The Sun star appears nude on horseback in a racy Lady Godiva tribute as part of PETA's bid to put New York City's carriage horses out to pasture.

The ad is aimed at tourists, heading for Central Park for the holidays, who are tempted to take a carriage ride.

Johnston will debut the ad in Central Park on Thursday, and she's not alone in her support for the cause - other celebrities who support PETA's campaign to ban horse-drawn carriages include Pink, Alec Baldwin and Chrissie Hynde...

------

Ugh. Who asked for this? I mean, honestly. Who? Next thing you know, Rumer Willis will sign on to do "Striptease 2: In the Buff." Ughhh.

6 random things

2008-10-19T22:23:00.000-07:00

So Aileen tagged me! Six random things. Six burning secrets just itching to get out and spread themselves everywhere:

1: I'm really into word games, particularly solo ones. Yes, alone. I'm a nerd. A hermit-nerd hybrid. I play Skribage and on my iPhone, "Word Up!" If you have an iPhone or iPod Touch, download it and try to beat my high score of 933!

2: I hate it when things cost money. Yes, that's right. Call it bratty, call me a cheap bastard, but I just don't like paying for things. It's not that I want people to buy them for me instead, I just feel that so many things are overpriced or are priced when they should be free. For example, I shelled out the dough for the iPhone, but I have yet to pay for an app. If you buy a phone that expensive, and you're paying for that monthly data plan, you shouldn't have to pay for extra crap, like those applications. Or music. I don't like having to pay for music. That brings me to number three...

3: I hate it when musicians complain about internet piracy and that crap. Look, if you wanted to guarantee you'd make a crapload of money, why didn't you just be a porn star? Or work hard in school, go to college, and get a real job? And I'm not going to feel sorry for you because you only made like $15 million last year instead of $19m. If the money matters that much to you, do a fuckin Pepsi commercial. Also, struggling musicians would kill for anyone to just listen to their music, let alone pay $15 for their album. Most musicians nowadays wouldn't even be known it if weren't for piracy and MySpace. (Panic! at the Disco, Colbie Caillat, Lily Allen, do I need to list more?)

4: I have a girl crush on Jenny Lewis. I'm listening to a Rilo Kiley album and it's like she looks right into my soul and soothes it.

5: I'm afraid of going to the ATM. Look, I'm barely over five feet tall and pretty much anyone could snap me like a twig -- I'm weak and poorly coordinated. I probably wouldn't even put up a fight. I'd shriek something incoherently, vomit on myself, and give the mugger everything he wanted. If I was a robber and saw a girl like me at the ATM, I'd so mug her stupid ass.

6: I can't stand conceited/obnoxious people. No one can, I know, but I always feel like I have to call them out on it in some way. It's really hard for me to ignore. I'm all for being confident and proud of your achievements, but to an extent... no one gives a shit. Ultimately, the only one who cares about how pretty you are or how big your cock is, is you.

The rules of tagging are:
1. Post the rules on your blog
2. Write 6 random things about yourself
3. Tag 6 people at the end of your post

Yeah... I don't even think 6 people read this. So it's just CHRIS that's "it"!

AdSense

2008-10-07T10:31:00.001-07:00

When is Google AdSense going to update my ads? I can't stand staring at that "housebreaking a Yorkie" ad.

I'm just saying.

Musings: Samantha Ronson and Pete Doherty. And other stuff too.

2008-09-25T23:49:00.000-07:00

Because I'm too tired to write a coherent post, and because the stress from work and taking care of a new puppy is starting to eat away at my soul, well, what little soul I have, I'm just going to write. Just blech. Write. Word vomit.

You know what's weird? Training a dog. Just weird how they understand you... or don't understand you. I swear, when I tell Mochi to "lie down," she sits and tilts her head to the side, as if to say, "I'm a fucking dog. I don't understand what the fuck you're saying. Fuck you."

Sooo tired. So much so that I really don't know what to type now. Usually this stream of consciousness crap comes pretty naturally to me and I just do my thang. (Yes, I said "thang.") You know what movie looks lame? That new Richard Gere/Diane Lane flick, "Nights in some place that begins with R." You know what looks lamer? That new Jim Carrey flick. I love Jim Carrey, but this is a movie about a guy who says "yes" to everything. Wonder why they didn't choose a female lead for the movie -- seems to me ticket sales for a movie about a woman who can't say no would intrigue more people. Or men. Or perverts. Or still not sure if the two latter groups are distinct from each other. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Anyone watch "The Office" tonight? Was anyone as disappointed as me? It's like their writers never came back from the strike.

You know what else I don't get? Samantha Ronson. I mean, if you're gonna be a lesbian, at least go with someone like Ellen. Ronson looks like the male version of Pete Doherty. But I still can't decide which one looks more used. Or is more used.

And I'm done for the night. Probably gonna watch "House." But not before I Google Image Pete Doherty and Samantha Ronson and put their photos side by side to compare.

By the way, who the hell is Pete Doherty? I mean I know he's supposed to be a rocker guy and he used to bang Kate Moss or something, but I mean, really. Can anyone actually name one of his songs?

Seriously, can you tell who's who?

Mochi vs. Diggy: Round One -- FIGHT!

2008-09-15T21:00:00.000-07:00

Now that my brother/his fiancee's dog, a Yorkie, has taken a liking to Mochi, the two have started playing on a more equal level. They wrestle, they run, they seem to play tag. While my little fat kid can't quite seem to keep up with Diggy's speed, she makes up for it in biting. Lots of biting. Lots and lots of biting. Here's proof:

Before the pounce, they square off, seeming to anticipate the other's first move:

Here comes the first pounce!

If Mochi could talk, I think she would say, "Bring it, sucka." And here's where, from the pics, it just looks like a fight. I'm no Michael Vick, I swear! I think you'll see that it gradually looks more serious, but seems to start off with a kiss or something:

Crazy pups. We've decided to have Mochi as our appetizer and Diggy as our main course. Stay tuned.

Update: Forgot about this one. Diggy would run at Mochi, bum rushing her and knocking her over. It was the funniest thing ever. This might be one a shot of one of those blitz attacks:

Mochi - Is it wrong I want to squeeze her brains out?

2008-09-15T15:21:00.001-07:00

Updated: Scroll down a little more... Added more pics.

Okay, maybe that's a little too graphic. But I'm finding my new puppy to be too cute. So much so that I think I might squeeze her face in my hands. Not good. I'll have to control myself. (Ease up, Lenny.) In the meantime, maybe you'll understand why! These two were taken when she was 8 weeks old:

And here's the newer ones. Mochi, at about 10 weeks old:

With her favorite toy, that rodent-looking toy that rolls around in circles when you turn it on:

This one was taken on my phone. For some reason, she loves sleeping sprawled out on the tile. Maybe because it's cool:

Taken this afternoon; she's about 12 weeks now. Awaiting her next cue:

Not quite lying down on command, but chillin' for now:

I guess this is her glamour shot:

Quote of the Week

2008-08-29T14:29:00.000-07:00

I had lunch with my parents today and we got to talking about different kinds of cuisine. I had mentioned there were several Ethiopian places in West L.A. that sounded interesting.

"What exactly is Ethiopian food?" My dad asked.

To which my mother replied, "An empty plate."

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the quote of the week.

One Morkie, please! And a side salad. To go.

2008-08-14T21:35:00.000-07:00

So some time ago my brother and his fiancee got a Yorkie. It's the cutest, sweetest little puppy ever! (Whoa, am I actually showing affection for a living thing? Something other than myself?) We're not really a family of dog lovers -- of course, we're against animal cruelty, but we ain't exactly PETA members. But suddenly, we have dog fever! And the dog we want to get is a Morkie - Yorkie + Maltese.

Look at that thing! How can you not fall in love with it? Or at the very least, be totally hungry? I'm doing my research on where the best place is to get a puppy and of course, don't get a puppy mill one. It's risky to buy one online. But most pet stores get their dogs from puppy mills -- therefore, you should avoid pet stores.

The solution? Go to rescue centers or contact breeders within your area. Often times, these rescue centers have purebreds and hybrids, anyway.

But, like...

I want a Morkie.

Seriously, look at that thing. Why wouldn't you want that? That is the cutest piece of dog ass there is.

And in going through forums to learn about these hybrid dogs, I see many people are against these adorable "designer dogs" because they're bred for the purpose of being cute. My defense? It's my money and I want to spend it on -- gasp! -- a dog that I want. Why should I have to pay money for vet costs, food, grooming, annual fees, for a dog that wasn't my first choice to have? I'm supposed to feel like an asshole for wanting a cute dog?

And back to that puppy mill thing; I see that it's wrong for people to breed dogs in unhealthy, unlivable conditions. But if these dogs are already out there, if they're already born... shouldn't someone take care of them? People discriminate against dogs at the pound because, well, they're dogs from the pound. Or they're mutts. Or they're not cute. But we're supposed to ignore the adorable freakin dogs because their owners are unscrupulous? If they're malnourished or sickly anyway, someone's gotta take care of them.

I don't know anymore, man. Alls I knows is I want a Morkie (they're good indoor dogs, small, easy to groom, hypoallergenic and did I mention cute?) and I hate that so many sources are making me feel guilty about it!

It's like that J.G. Wentworth commercial: It's my Morkie and I want it now!

OMG HRU? I'm breaking up with someone...

2008-08-13T12:27:00.000-07:00

Like OMG, HRU? I totally haven't talked with you in a while. We should totally catch up over caramel macchiatos and Pinkberry, whilst we walk with my Chihuahua in my bag.

So, what are you doing these days? Tell me everything!

I've been, like, working a lot, you know how it is.

Yeah totally.

Been wanting to move my blog over to a real domain but I'm lazy.

Yeah totally.

Been going to the beach a lot and like, hitting the waves.

-- Ok, I'm starting to annoy myself. So really, I know I haven't updated in freakin forever and I miss it / all two of you who read this. A few developments in the recent past: I took the plunge. I got. An iPhone. This prompted me to write this letter:

Dear Blackjack II,

Hi. Wow, this is awkward... I don't even know how to say this. First off, it's not you it's me. I never thought I'd be the one to hurt you, but I've decided it's best for us to move on. You deserve better, I have other needs. Needs you can't fulfill. And I'm sorry, I know you tried your best, but we're just not on the same wavelength anymore. No one is as fast as you are, but every time I need to send an email from my corporate account, you aren't there. But when I had a text message, you helped me. When I was driving and didn't have my headset, you spoke up loud for me. I appreciate all that -- really, I do. But I'm leaving you for someone... the iPhone 3G.

He's... different. He suits my needs and is everything I want and need in a phone. He, too, is fast, and he is always quick to send my emails -- both corporate and Gmail. He's just so easy too. The easiest I've ever been with.

We've had a great run, Blackjack. I truly wish you the best.

Love,
Amanda

My sworn enemy: Pop up ads

2008-02-08T14:39:00.000-08:00

Nobody likes pop up ads. But they work. I mean, they're there for a reason. And usually I don't really care since I use Firefox and use some kick ass anti-pop up and anti-spyware and anti-virus crap. But you know which one I can't seem to ever prevent? The one that seethes my brain? The one that makes me wish evil upon the person who invented the internet? Audio ones. But more specifically, the one that says, "Congratulations. You have been selected to receive two free Apple iPods." Or the variation with "a free Apple iPhone."

Whenever I hear that woman's voice, I can feel the rage slowly build up inside of me, teeming with unspeakable hatred for that smarmy bitch. And each time I hear it, I tell myself, "if I hear this bullshit one more time I am punching right through my computer to rip out its motherboard."

To the creator of that ad: I sincerely hope that you develop a horrible, persistent case of bacne, all of your eyebrow hairs fall out and you will be forced to get them tattooed but when you go to the tattoo parlor, they run out of black ink and all they have left is vivid tangerine, and you get unhealable paper cuts on the webs of your fingers and the area where your nail beds and fingertips meet and you develop an acute allergic reaction to most kinds of foods, resulting in only citrus fruits and food with high concentrations of sodium as your diet.

Obama girl didn't vote

2008-02-07T13:18:00.000-08:00

Super Tuesday indeed was "super duper" as Mr. Barack Obama put it. I voted, you voted, Emma voted. And we all know it's a pretty close race.

But you know who didn't vote?

Obama girl. What a dumb bitch. She was supposedly sick and couldn't make the commute from the Super Bowl to New Jersey or some shit. She said that airplanes always make her sick. So clearly, she's been sick before. She's never heard of an absentee ballot?

Not that I really care but still...

How boring.

2008-01-30T12:15:00.000-08:00

I should first warn you that this post sucks. And it's pretty much a repost of my MySpace blog. But a post was long overdue and I know all four of you miss me. So here are the few, trivial thoughts running through my head as of late:

-- Our kitchen is under construction. I think we're going for plum-colored walls. How do you feel about this? I picked it. So you should probably tell me plum sounds gorgeous.

-- Does coffee make everyone poop? I took my very first public bathroom poop last week at the office. Though I had to go quick because I knew if I took too long they'd all know what I was doing. It was kinda stressful.

-- I can't wait to move out soon. Been saving up most of my money to do so. I'm making it my goal to be outta the house by fall. (Sound realistic, Raquel?)

-- I bought an amazing body pillow at Target last week in the build-a-body-pillow section... Although that section just entails body pillows and pillowcases... it's not like you stuff it yourself. I went with that super soft bathrobe material. It's amazingly comfortable and squishy. I highly recommend it, but I should warn you, it doesn't get very cool. And we all enjoy a cool pillow once in a while.

-- I got a MacBook recently and I gotta tell you... maybe I'm just not used to it, but it's not that great. I see that they're made for people who just want their computer to run efficiently and aren't so good at tech support, but what happens if you have a problem with it? You can't really customize it so it seems that if you have a problem, you're just fucked. My problem is that it doesn't always connect to my wireless internet from my room. But when it is connected, it's almost a full signal. So I either get a very good signal or nothing at all. Fuck you, Apple. Fuck my life.

-- Needless to say, I am currently on my PC. My good ol' Vaio. Sure, it may be a little bit clunky, and the keys are all worn out from my constant clacking (Am I typing an "n" or an "m?"), and the battery life is crap... and the speakers crackle at random times for no reason, but it's dependable.

-- Back to that moving out thing... I'm stressing out a little over it (in a healthy way, not in my usual obsessive way) in that I want to make sure I can afford it. It's not like I aim to live extravagantly but I want to be comfortable and still be able to put a little something in the bank. Although all I really care about is having colored walls, a comfy couch, some nice dinnerware, high speed Internet, cable TV, and a DVR... even if this means sleeping on a mattress on the floor next to a clock radio with my room looking like a serial killer's crawlspace.

And... back to work!

2girls1cup, 1finger, 1love, 1heart

2007-12-23T01:38:00.001-08:00

2girls1cup.com. Yes. I am a bit late to catch onto the latest viral video -- literally, viral; don't you wonder what kinds of diseases are teeming inside their bodies? -- and it truly is every bit as repulsive as people say. Definitely not suitable for work. I still can't decide if it's worse than 2girls1finger. I'm inclined to believe that 1cup is worse; it starts out as regular porn, but quickly evolves into a whole other kind of beast. Here's my lovely, lovely reaction:

Big wigs are bored and Zoey 101 is pregnant.

2007-12-20T13:26:00.000-08:00

Stumbled upon this interesting story on Hollywood agents and executives logging onto Facebook because now that the writers are striking, they have nothing better to do. I would just copy and paste the link into the text I'm typing right now, but then you'd miss out on the kick ass headline: Bored Agents Flocking To Facebook To Screw Each Other During Their Strike-Provided Free Time.

Imagine logging into Facebook, editing/accepting friend details, SuperPoking a few friends (by, I don't know, throwing Santa at and hiding from them), then thinking, oh, Les Moonves from CBS has bitten me with the Zombie application. Weird.

Since this is on everybody's mind, I feel like I should reiterate and express my own shock that Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant. A maladjusted/irresponsible member of the Spears family? That truly is shocking. I heard the uncle of her babydaddy, a Baptist preacher, said that the family is "shocked and yet [they] aren't." This could mean a number of things; he is losing faith in the chastity and virginity of today's young adults, Zoey 101 didn't seem like THAT much of a ho, or he didn't really think Casey -- or Chris, or whatever the fuck the kid's name is -- would be able to successfully K.Fed Britney's little sis. Well, Mr. Preacher Man, Oops, Somebody Did Do It Again.

Which brings me to my first edition of Horrifically Lame Jokes Surrounding the Jamie Lynn Spears Pregnancy:

I just heard Jamie Lynn doesn't even want Casey -- or Chris -- in the delivery room. Guess she doesn't want his "toxic tongue slipping under." Or, better yet, doesn't want to risk getting "hit one more time."

I wonder what Jamie Lynn said in response to her mom's reaction to the news. Maybe it was, "Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know?"

At least she won't get caught driving with the baby in her lap. I don't think people will notice the baby in the front basket of her bike. (What is she, 14?)

Look on the bright side, Sean Preston and Jayden James will have a new pet.

And my favorite...

I guess Casey spent too much time in Zoey 101 and not enough time in health class.

It's already old news, but News Corp. bought Dow Jones.

2007-12-18T21:08:00.000-08:00

This is quite old, but I haven't had time to blog about it. Well, not THAT old... whatever, it happened Friday. So News Corp closed its deal with Dow Jones, acquiring the publisher for $5 billion. Friday morning, a bunch of newspapers like the NY Times, the Guardian, Washington Post, LA Times, a bunch more, published congratulatory ads for the media giant. One of these ads said, "Today the greatest brand in financial journalism joins up with the world's most restless global media company." Two newspapers, the Financial Times and the China Daily declined to run these ads.

Oh, wait a second, did I mention News Corp. shelled out $2 million to these publications to run the braggy ads? Yes... Rupert Murdoch and his minions bought a news outlet... then paid a bunch of other news outlets to say "congratulations" in the way they deem suitable. You can read the full story here.

Suddenly, it's like the lonely, rich, single woman who sends herself five bouquets of roses on Valentine's Day to seem popular.

The Machine Girl

2007-12-11T18:10:00.000-08:00

I know, I put out a MySpace bulletin, but that's how awesome this trailer for the upcoming Japanese flick The Machine Girl is. Think of Grindhouse, but more badass because no one does it like the Japanese do. From Battle Royale to Suicide Club, they come up with the some twisted but entertaining-as-fuck shit. I still can't decide if I like the flying guillotine or the drill bra better.

Speaking of things that are Japanese, did you hear about the new Dragon Ball Z movie? Yes, all you samurai-sword-from-flea-markets-owning-World-of-Warcraft-playing nerds, there will be a movie. A live action one. I'm not much of a DBZ fan but I don't know how I feel about it. Anyway, angry asian man said that the Asian chick -- whose name I can't remember and don't care to take the extra two seconds to find out -- from Real World: San Diego is gonna be in it as Goku's love interest, and apparently, Goku, and the rest of the male characters will be played by White guys. While I have absolutely nothing against White people and I would only mildly consider myself Asians-misrepresented-and-underrepresented aware, you gotta admit that there's something kind of weird about making a movie based on a Japanese animated cartoon with Japanese characters whose eyes look strikingly Japanese (or some kind of Asian) doing karate and other Japanese stuff. Japanese. Whatever; at least they'll have a hot Korean chick.

Looking at this post, I now see that I probably overdid the trying-to-be-clever-and-quick-with-dashes thing. Whatever. At least I was able to blog about a hot Korean chick.

Sorry, Blueprint, I've never even heard of you.

2007-12-11T00:03:00.000-08:00

In case any of you care, which I'm sure you don't, this magazine that no one read called Blueprint is being shut down. Maybe you'll get a kick out of the fact that it's Martha Stewart's magazine and if you hate Martha Stewart, you'll probably go to sleep happy. Me? I'm indifferent to her so I care even less about the magazine.

I'm only bringing this up because I saw this funny blog post about it on Jezebel, some fashion blog. How the hell did I, the nerd who didn't quite realize that slip-on shoes are retro because she just never really stopped wearing them since grade school stumble across a fashion blog? Gawker, my friend. The writer basically says that Blueprint didn't have a chance because its features on haute couture were too lame for true fashionistas to take note of and its do-it-yourself crap was too crappy for even the most maladroit of people to want to attempt.

My favorite part is that under a picture (from the magazine) of a group of very happy, beautiful women -- four of whom are Caucasian and one that is African-American -- dressed in classy cocktail dresses the blogger wrote, "The subtitle of this picture is 'Have a Black-and-White Ball'. Maybe more like white-and-your-one-black-friend ball!"

Maybe the real reason I blogged about this is because I've always wanted to use "haute couture" in a sentence.

So I'm not the only one with a fixation on Claire Danes...

2007-12-09T17:19:00.000-08:00

Hi, friends. It's been a while. Quite while. A lot's been going on: I was out of the country for a little while, attended a funeral, got my eyeglasses repaired, my other betta fish died, and ah, yes, I finally found a full-time job. Now that I've got you up to speed on my awesome life, allow me to explain the strangeness of this entry's title.

Because I'm a nerd/creep, I frequent several blogs in my spare time -- or when I'm trying to procrastinate doing something else -- perhaps to satiate the voyeur in me. In one of my reads, Gawker, I came across this very funny, very chilling piece on stalking Claire Danes. Yes, the chick from My So-Called Life. Yes, the chick with the really bad English accent in Stardust who wasn't Michelle Pfieffer. Yes, the chick whom I loathe for her downright white supremacist comments about the Philippines. Though you might wonder why anybody would want to stalk someone as indie-wannabe as Claire Danes, this New York Press piece explains that it is because "she's got enough star power to attract a stalker but not enough to have security around 24/7; and because [they] discovered that Parker Posey, [their] first choice, had moved out of town." This disappoints me because I myself would rather stalk Parker Posey. Anyway, Danes saw the article, got pissed off, and pretty rightfully so, I must agree, and had her people yell at the New York Press people. I dunno; the damage is done, what does she want at this point?

It's a pretty long article, but worth skimming through if you hate Claire Danes, love Claire Danes, support celebrity stalking, or live in New York, particularly on Wooster Street. Oops. I probably shouldn't have repeated that.

In case you were wondering...

2007-11-18T18:38:00.000-08:00

The labels at the bottom of each entry (i.e. the words "labels, mail order bride" at the end of this post) are there to make your searches easier. In the future, when I will have posted many a thought (forgive the odd syntax) and you think to yourself, "Hmm when did Amanda post that stuff about mail order brides?" you can type "mail order brides" in the search box at the top left of this screen and the entry you were thinking about should come up. I'm a nerd and this is a fun feature to me.

Speaking of mail order brides, the ads that I now see at the top of my blog are for Thai mail order brides and Filipinas seeking older men. Google and I have never been more in sync.

Shopping and PMS: A destructive combination

2007-11-18T18:25:00.000-08:00

Note to self and to the fertile women who read this:

Never buy a bra while you are ovulating for the monthly fullness of your breasts may lead to your buying the next size up, thus leading to an increased self esteem based on a temporary condition. Moreover, do not delude yourself with the notion that your obsession with your bra size culminated in God mysteriously making your breasts grow because He took pity on your poor body image.

I am aware that this may have been way too much information for all male readers and post-menopausal readers.

Costumes, playing dress-up, whatever.

2007-11-08T15:00:00.000-08:00

Although this complaint is over a week late, it is nonetheless an idea that haunts my dreams nightly, and eats away at whatever soul I have left. Cupcakes have lost their sweetness and vodka is now just water to me. What could possibly be so important, so significant that it takes over my life and affects the way I eat those precious, tiny cakes? Halloween costumes. Specifically, most women's Halloween's costumes. I know that these make straight men and lesbians everywhere proud and grateful to be pussy-lovers, and I don’t mean to be a hater, but… I hate it. Accuse me of jealousy or failing to properly address and conquer my own insecurities, but really, when it comes down to it, a slutty Halloween costume is really just reflective of your own personality, your own morality. A little boy wants to wear a Spiderman costume – he really likes Spidey and thinks he’s cool and wishes that he too could shoot web and jump from skyscraper to skyscraper. A little girl wants to be Cinderella – she likes the idea of being a princess and looking pretty. Now when a grown woman wants to be a cat for Halloween, she puts on black lingerie and cat ears – I wish all cats could be that purrfectly sexy. If she wants to be a detective, she puts on pinstriped lingerie, perhaps with a garter to hold her pistol, and a fedora – Dashiell Hammett must be spinning in his grave, restless with the notion of the noir genre being corrupted by a woman’s need for superficial attention, or with insatiable sexual arousal. If this same woman wants to be a witch, she can just bust out her old cat costume, nix the ears and tail, don the pointy hat, and voila! Instant savings and instant sex appeal. Who needs a personality when you have heaving breasts bursting through black lace? Who needs an original thought when your perfect areolas are begging to be hugged by a demi-cup bra?

My point, as it always is, is borrowed from Barney, from Mr. Rogers, from Party of Five, or whatever it is that you watched when you were a child. Just fucking be yourself. How pathetic is the life you lead that you take advantage of Halloween to be anything other than who you really are, that you harbor such incredible self-hatred, you would rather be Dirrty Christina Aguilera than yourself? This isn’t to attack every single god damned costume, it’s just a reminder that you can dress up and have fun and all that shit and still maintain a shred of integrity. (Of course, this argument is completely falsified if you acknowledge that you really are an attention-starved whore with daddy issues and you simply want your costume to reflect that.) At the risk of sounding like a neo-feminist, I do think that there is something incredibly depressing and revolting about walking into a party to see that every single woman is wearing a variation of the same item from Fredericks of Hollywood, to see that each of those women’s personalities can be packaged and neatly bundled into a corset. The McDonaldization of society, the submission to the male gaze, the desire to be the hottest, call it whatever you want, but you can fucking count me out.

It's not that I’m against sex, boldly countering cruel ideals of body shape, and people generally doing what they want to do. On the contrary, do whatever the fuck you want, just have the decency to be honest about. Put on the halter top and boy shorts; just don’t use the holiday as a sole means to justify your choice of dress. There really is a difference between using the occasion to do something fun and even express yourself, and jumping at the chance to show everyone your lady bits. But don’t go crying to your girl friend when you realize that the guy who hit on you at the party was “only after one thing.”

I like to think that my psychological breakdown of the modern day Halloween costume is fool-proof. Although, if I’m going to believe that, then I have serious issues because my past Halloween costumes have included being Super Mario when I was 12, Pippi Longstocking when I was 9, and a Lost Boy when I was 21. Maybe deep down inside I’ve always wanted to be an Italian plumber with the ability to knock gold coins out of blocks with a single jump, or a super-strong orphan who lives alone, or a symbol of Michael Jackson’s childhood abuse and lost innocence. I don’t even want to try to psycho-analyze my 8^th grade geisha costume.

Inappropriate dreams

2007-11-06T16:02:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had a dream where you woke up thinking, “What the fuck?” Not even like, “Whoa that was really weird,” but more like, “that’s disgusting and frankly, kind of obscene.” I had a dream last night that I saw my friend’s penis and it was uncircumcised. It wasn’t even a sex dream. It was like we were standing in front of a building and then he took out his uncircumcised penis. And I woke up upset about it. Frankly, I was pretty offended. And I didn’t even know who to be angry at because I don't think any specific person is to blame. I can’t control what I dream about. What’s more is that I feel guilty about it! Should I tell him? On some level, I feel like he should know, that he has a right to know who sees and thinks and dreams about his penis. But that’s weird… to call someone up out of the blue and tell them that you kind of saw his penis. To be honest, I don’t even talk to him that much. It would be like, “Hey man, so how is everything? How’s school? Are you still an economics major? That’s cool. So, hey, I saw your penis in my dreams last night.” You can’t just tell people that! But at the same time, I kind of feel like I took advantage of him, like I raped him; therefore I owe him an explanation of some sort. And I don’t think I'm comfortable with rape or molestation on my conscience, especially if it was unintentional.

I've started to feel even guiltier about the whole thing because I just remembered that he has a girlfriend and I’m cool with her... or thought I was. So now I’m thinking, should I tell her? I don’t know… it might upset me if some girl was going to bed at night dreaming of my boyfriend’s dick. I don’t think that’s okay. But I didn’t mean to do it! But really, the worst thing of all, I think, is that I don’t even think I dreamt of an anatomically correct penis. From what I remember, it sort of looked like a peach Crayola crayon wrapped in a handkerchief. Is that even what it looks like? I’ve never seen a live uncircumcised penis before, like in the flesh. No pun intended. Or intended. I don’t even know anymore. Now, I don’t know what’s worse – that I now have to live my life knowing that I fantasized about my friend’s penis, or that I now think he’s packing a taquito in his pants instead of a regular, normal, human dick.

At this point I’m afraid of going to sleep because now I fear that if I sleep, I’ll dream about another friend’s private part. Like I’ll dream of someone’s unusually large vagina, and that it looks like a velvet-covered cave. Fuckin’ Freddy Kruger has never been so cruel.

This entry sucks and I know it

2007-10-26T02:35:00.000-07:00

Another day in the life of an unemployed person. This job hunting thing is really starting to get me down. It has occurred to me to lower my standards, but I simply cannot bring myself to accept a job as an administrative assistant. I think I would hate myself for spending four years in college only to spend my weekdays getting coffee and picking poppy seeds out of muffins for assholes who probably got their jobs either through being well-connected or giving the CEO a rusty trombone (which, by the way, I learned the definition of only recently, and have found to be much more amusing than appealing). It's not that I expect to be hired as a managing editor or a segment producer, but most of the job descriptions I've been sifting through require either 10 years experience in the field or simply a high school diploma. What an amazing, depressing disparity. In the meantime, my parents just told me I don't have health insurance anymore, so on top of this I better pray I don't get syphilis or anything inconvenient like that.

Aside from hoping for a job and crossing my fingers for the absence of venereal disease and tetanus, -- I have a wide range of interests -- I've been finding different ways to keep my days occupied. The other day I went to a pumpkin patch and carved me a jack-o-lantern. I don't think I've ever really told anyone this but pumpkins always remind me of my childhood -- not because they cause me to reminisce about field trips to pumpkin patches, as up until Wednesday I had never set foot on one, and not because the carving brings me back to the days when my Maw and Paw taught me to cut triangular eyes, as I had never before so much as touched a pumpkin seed -- but because I always thought I had a pumpkin head. An awkward child, I was, with an unusually large, very circular head. It didn't help that mom would occasionally tease my hair. And that I had the rice-bowl haircut, complete with straight, eyebrow-length bangs. And that my skin color is pretty much orange.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon hiking somewhere in the hills of... well some hills. It's weird if I disclose the actual location, isn't it? This was another first for me as I'm a self-proclaimed pantophobe and allergic to pretty much everything in the atmosphere. Gnats, salamanders, mosquitos, heights, sun that's too sunny, and grass that's too grassy all evoke some sort of high-pitched shriek of disgust from me. How I came to be so girly and frail, I don't know, and I, like you, am extremely irritated with it. Perhaps it's my tendency to break out into hives when coming into contact with nature. Or it could be that my lack of health care coverage just really, really makes me not want to catch West Nile Virus (oh yes, people, just because you don't hear about it anymore doesn't mean it's not there!). By the way, what ever happened to SARS? You never hear about that one anymore, and frankly, I kind of miss it.

So there you have it. I have revealed that I am an unemployed, (literally) big-headed, and fearful wuss who may or may not be carrying some kind of virus. Fellas, come and get it.

Just kidding. I know I don't have West Nile.

On a side note, I will admit that this has been one of my least favorite entries ever. But give me a break; I can't sleep and my quads hurt.

A new blog and mail order brides?

2007-10-20T12:54:00.000-07:00

Woo hooo it's a new blog! I decided to do that thing where you let businesses advertise on your site in hopes of receiving some (actually, very little) money. The only thing is, you don't have complete control over what kinds of ads go on your page. You get to choose the general categories like Arts & Humanities, Entertainment, Business, Automotive, and so on and so forth, but you don't choose the individual businesses. While selecting those categories, I don't remember seeing anything called Asian Singles or Asian Dating Services, much less selecting them. I don't really care who uses those sites but I don't want it to look like I specifically support them... isn't that kind of weird? Are you seeing one of those ads right now? Whenever I stare at my blog (which is quite often seeing as how I am deeply enamored with both my profile picture and the crisp, delicate polka dots sprinkled all over my page) the displayed ad is for some site boasting its "free" collection of "sexy girls from the Philippines." I don't even know what that site is and am admittedly afraid of it. Is it some mail order bride service?

I've always wondered about mail order bride services. Who's to say whether or not the... marriageable goods are legitimate? What I mean is, how can someone, a potential customer, be sure that someone else isn't just pulling a horrible, perverted prank on a buddy by posting her picture and information? One of my greatest fears is that one day I'll be surfing afilipina.com, click on the year 1985, and see my picture posted up there. Me, in all my fly swatting, angry-faced glory. DOB: Dec. 13, 1985. Height: 5'1". Weight: Let's not get TOO personal here. Education: College. Occupation: Starbucks barrista.

Take that any way you want. I'm actually not sure if my greatest fear is that a so-called friend would sign me up as a mail order bride without my consent, that in the future I'll be serving up iced mocha chocolata yayas to people who could just as easily get the exact same drink at the donut shop next door for $3 less but choose not to because they gotta have their 'Bucks with the cardboard cup-sleeves, or that in the future (or perhaps not-so-distant future) I would become so utterly repulsive and desperate for human attention that I would feel the need to seek female companionship in cyberspace.

And in a quick note to my buddy Raquel: You better not be getting any ideas. I'm sure there are plenty of mail order bride sites catering specifically to the desires of men who like busty blonde women with blue eyes. In case you didn't know, some people DO go for that.

desperate housewives rant

2007-10-10T12:38:00.001-07:00

Yes, I realized that I re-posted this from my MySpace.

You know what pisses me off? Aside from the Philippines' poorly developed health care and medical education system, it's lots of bitching and moaning from activists groups. Look, I get it. You have a cause. You fight for it. But you have to draw the line somewhere. The latest thing that's annoying me is this whole "Desperate Housewives" drama. Apparently, Teri Hatcher's character says something like "Can I check [the doctor's] diploma? I want to make sure he didn't come from some med school in the Philippines." Suddenly, the National Federal Federation of Filipino Americans and Barrel Men of Associations and Organizations and Nipa Huts is pulling a Jesse Jackson, demanding an apology and perhaps several pounds of goat or dog meat as a reparation or something.

What the fuck is the big damn deal? So the stupid show makes a crack at the Philippines. Everyone makes fun of everything, and TV -- big fucking surprise -- makes fun of everyone: fat people, old people, Black people, White people, Latino people, European people, short people, smart people, dumb people, blonde people, ginger people (haha), zitty people, Jewish people, Christian people, Muslim people, Rosie O'Donnell, Clay Aiken, and Scott Baio. (Like how I mention blonde people after dumb people?) You don't see the National Union of Ugly Betties whining every two seconds (And Betty is indeed quite ugly, perhaps uglier than necessary). Activists just need to pick their fucking battles. Was I pissed when Claire Danes ridiculed Philippine citizens' poor health and living in filth? You bet, I was, and she deserved to lose her fucking career for a few years. Brokedown Palace wasn't worth her shit talk -- but at least she ends up stuck in that Thai prison at the end. Did I shake my head in disgust when Joan Rivers made that completely random remark about Filipinos eating their dogs while hosting the red carpet shit at the Emmys? Of course, it came completely out of nowhere and was irrelevant to a TV fucking awards show.

Then, Susan Mayer makes a tiny joke at the expense of med schools in the Philippines. And yeah, it was kinda funny. There, I said it. Hell, I'll admit, it wouldn't be funny if her remark were untrue. The fact is, the health care system in the country fucking sucks. And unless you've spent time in a Philippine hospital, do not even try to prove that claim wrong. They don't have a health insurance system. Nurses and doctors don't always wash their hands between visits, they don't normally wear gloves, and they make you buy your own supplies (i.e. nebulizers, syringes, latex gloves, surgical masks). To top it all off, the hospitals are infamous for holding patients longer than need be in order to charge them more and thus, maximize profit. This isn't to say that every single person in the Philippine medical field is a bumbling fool, just that the system is fucked up. (I know that if I don't add this disclaimer somewhere, I'm gonna get hate comments from angry Filipino MySpacers, bitching about how their aunt or uncle is a great nurse or physical therapist. By the way, good for your aunt or uncle if he/she is good at his/her job. Kudos.)

So chill out, people. You can't put up a fight everytime somebody makes a joke you don't like; otherwise, what the hell would we do to amuse ourselves? Not put down others? Okay, but seriously, if Filipinos file a complaint against every little remark made about them, how are we ever going to overcome discrimination? I realize, now, after re-reading that, that I sound kind of beauty pageant contestant-ish, but I stick by my opinion. The absence of Filipino jokes in a world filled with jokes about every other culture and belief system is worse; it ignores the very presence of them.

And if you really want to nitpick, "Desperate Housewives" is a stupid show regardless of its so-called anti-Filipino dialogue. It's a fucking insult to women and mothers and families and suburban inhabitants. Every episode is a testament to the notion that women need men to reaffirm their sense of self, that every unmarried woman (*ahem* Edie-fucking-Brit) is itching to get boned and will stop at nothing for a decent fuck, and that Latina women are soulless, money-grubbing whores (thank you, Gabrielle Solis). Don't forget its implications that all unpopular, teenage white boys are simply sociopaths in the making (I am, indeed, referring to Zach Young), and that all teenage white girls will do anything for a bit of attention (consider both Bree Van De Kamp's and Susan Mayer's daughters). Okay, so maybe the last bit is true, but nonetheless, I maintain that if you're going to attack this lame ass show for any sort of discrimination, the Filipino thing is the wrong place to start.

Who still watches this damn show, anyway?

For the record, I still hate Claire Danes, sometimes feel sorry for Rosie O'Donnell for getting trashed so much, and secretly think if I look into Joan Rivers' eyes she'll eat my soul.