Saturday, September 30, 2006


I tried a new ice cream today, Hagen-Daz Vanilla Fudge. Why, you ask? Because it looked good, because a reputable ice-cream chef told me to try it? No... because Zach Braff said he liked it.

Why you may ask, did I listen to some random actor? IS he some expert on Hagen-daz? Is he an ice cream guru of the acting world? No, but he has an honest face, and no actor has steered me wrong when it's come to ice cream. No actor has ever steered me anywhere, but that's besides the point. He said in an article that his favorite ice cream was Vanilla Fudge. I've never tried it, and he seems like a happy kid, so why not, right?

In all honesty, it was more of a SAT response to him. Zach Braff is to cool, as vanilla fudge is to good ice cream. Ring a bell, and I buy ice cream.

In my deep sad psyche, deep down there, I think..."if I like it too, then we could meet at a trendy Hollywood party, and I could say 'Hey- Vanilla Fudge, right?' and he'd say 'Sweet dude!' and we'd become bestest friends forever and ever." Hey, it could happen.

But standing at the frosty freezer section, I was faced with the choice of Zach Braff's Vanilla Fudge, and the old standby, Creme Brulee. As the wispy fog poured from the door, two figures appeared. A little Zach Braff in white with wings on one shoulder, and a little Dr. Cox, red with horns on the other.

Zach Braff: Get the Vanilla Fudge, so we can hang out and be super cute ice cream buddies together!

Dr. Cox: He's an ACTOR for god's sake.

Zach Braff: You're an actor too!

Dr. Cox: Don't listen to Britney here...go with the Creme Brulee and get out of here.

Zach Braff: But if you don't try it, then how can we meet at the party, and how can we become bestest buds?

Sigh. He was right.

So, I brushed off the Scrubs Angel and Devil and got the Vanilla Fudge.

And the moral of this story is that I now hate Zach Braff because it sucked. Vanilla Fudge has got to be the WORST ice cream I've ever had.

Not that it's ALL Zach Braff's fault. The Hagen-daz peeps make a big deal about their labels accurately reflecting the product, I know know this because it was on a special about the making of ice cream. The things you learn from the Food Channel, right?

So imagine my confusion when the label had not only an orchid flower but also square chunks of CHOCOLATE fudge. Is it going to taste like vanilla flavored fudge? Probably not, since the fudge was chocolate - but the name misleads, and the presence of fudge cubes is totally irrelevant anyway. It's vanilla ice cream with chocolate ripple. No FUDGE by any traditional definition of the word. And it's even without vanilla beans. It was sucky vanilla ice cream. I mean, the gall of Zach Braff.

Now when we meet at the trendy Hollywood party, I'm going to have to grab his lapels and scream 'Vanilla Fudge sucks!' And he will have me forcibly removed, and call me a stalker.

Whatever. Stupid actor. He started it.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Luke's Cousin

Wait for it...Luke's cousin and a musical number....and the freakin Disneyland castle. Damn, that Henson was good.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

And my worlds collide...

Steven Hawking quotes Woody Allen.

At a seminar; "How can one describe the universe at the beginning of time. I now think I can show how the universe was spontaneously created out of nothing, according to the laws of science. The universe exists, because general relativity and quantum theory allow and require it to exist. If I'm right, the universe is self contained, and governed by science alone. In time, we can hope to understand it completely. We have long enough, as the universe should last for ever. Eternity is a very long time, especially towards the end, as Woody Allen said."


Martha Stewart wants Eminem to appear on her "Martha" TV show.

"We play his music during breaks to keep people very lively and they love him," Stewart told AP Radio in a recent interview. "I would really love to have Eminem on the show," the 65-year-old lifestyle guru said. "I don't think he knows that my demographic audience is so involved in Eminem music."

Friday, September 22, 2006

The edumacation continues

Things I learned today:

I like iced coffee more than Monster energy drinks.

I need a new blazer before I go on another interview, since the one I have looks shiny and lounge-lizard ish. Which is cool for clubs, but not for conservative financial recruiters.

True friends appear in the most unlikely of places, and they perform amazing feats of friendship in the most unlikely of times. (Thanks to Fernando)

Rhumba Shorts are cool.

Lindsay Lohan goes commando. (Thanks (?) to Avitable)

You apparently can 'break up' with someone you aren't dating and never had any intention of dating, and barely considered a friend in the first place. (More on that later)

The lyrics to 'the witch doctor' go "Ooo eee, ooo ah ah, ting tang, walla walla bing bang" not "Ching Chang, walla walla" as I originally suspected. (Thanks to Kapgar for making me look that one up.)

My cheese wrapper told me that "cows are able to float 20 miles in large floods".

The new song - 'I gotta stay fly' by Three 6 Mafia (featuring Young Buck, 8ball & MJG) is awesome. I don't know who any of those additional rappers are...but I have to give them props otherwise I'll be shived walking down the street.

Oh, and it's hard to be a pimp. Word.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Easily Amused

I swear. I laugh (nay, giggle-snort : a step up from laughter) at these Mac Commercials every time. And the unveiling of a new commercial is more exciting to me than doing the pee-pee dance running up stairs.

Is it the really simple jokes? Am I mentally ill? Or is it my MacMuffin, and his insufferable mop-haired cuteness?

Who knows.

But I have a Mac, so I guess it worked. I'm a slave to the advertising world.


Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Cosby Bebop

Courtesy of Avitable, this has got to be the strangest, yet most hypnotic thing I've seen all day.

The Cosby Bebop.

It'll make you want Jello.

Sunday, September 17, 2006


Confronted with the obvious signs of aging: crows feet, wrinkles, laugh lines, sun damage and (gasp!) age spots...I decided it was time to go the way of all Los Angeleno women, and get me some spiffy micro-dermabrasion.

V and I went to the haute salon in San Elijo Hills (near Encinitas/San Diego) for our treatments. Having never been to a salon, let alone a haute one, we were both unprepared for the strangeness to follow.

Frauline Helga, my esthetician, was rough, abrupt, and yet complimentary. She told me I had beautiful skin, and when I told her my age, she had the kindness to fake a gasp in surprise. I also got a very positive thumbs up for staying out of the sun, something only my mother has complimented me on before. Sort of like chewing the colored pill at the dentists office and not having many spots you missed while brushing. Yay me!

Forced to get nekkid, shoeless and towel-wrapped was the first in the line of horrors - why a facial treatment needed to involve my feet - I'm not sure. V, rebellious, refused to take off her clothes. She put her wrap over her dress, and stomped off with her esthetician, indignant. We were separated - feeling like sisters at Birkenau, marching off to endure horrors, never to see each other again.

After laying alone in a sickly purple room the size of an optometrists' office, I was then treated to the explanation of the micro-dermabrasion machine. 'This is sand. It will come out this hole, and be sucked up by this hole'. That's it. She flipped on the human vacuum, and sandpapered and sucked my face. It felt much like being pet with sandpaper. It was soft. I expected more of a rough 'ow' kind of experience, as I'm paying good money for this pain. As V later said - "we know it's good only if it hurts."

After the sandpapering, she then slathered my face with creams smelling of roses, and gave me a foot massage. See - feet are important to the whole facial rejuvenation experience. Also, the creams were massaged into my neck and shoulders - thus explaining the clothes removing. It was very uncomfortable, and I clenched the table the whole time. Not that I feared Helga was going to violate me, but you never know. I AM young and cute.

V got the Glycolic mask instead, and I heard her screaming from my room. Of course, she looked better. Pain really does make a difference. But with her clothes on, she didn't get the massage or foot I at least had prettier feet for a few hours.

Helga told me that I did not need to come back again except for 'maintenance' which was monthly of course. If I continued to go, I'd have to live in a hovel and eat top ramen. The price we pay for beauty. We looked at some products...the best was a cream made of cow udder something...I believe it was cow secretions. I'm trying hard to block it out, since it was not only disturbing, but it also cost more than my car.

My face looked the same, but shinier, so I washed it as soon as I got home. With makeup on, I looked like I just went for a run - redder, shinier, but the same. Oh well.

Maybe when I start looking like Jessica Tandy, I'll head on out there again. And get the painful one.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

God, I miss the 80s.

and the best for last...

I dare you not to sing along.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Ode on Banana Underwear

I hate the word 'panties'.


Thou unworn underwear still and quiet,
banana underwear of silence and slow time,
oh!, fruity rumba short how I rejoice in thee.
What trendy and fine bananas haunt your shape,
What mad meshy and sweet pursuit? What wild ecstasy?

A ruffled extravaganza unheard,
Bananas play on;
Bananas cannot fade, reflector of my soul and tushie
For ever will thou be false bananas, and forever young
yet, do not grieve, they be fair!

Ah, happy Urban Outfitters hath directed the world
in it's search for banana underwear.
To the dollar strewn altar, mysterious 20-something priest
takes my money and lows
'Once underwear is worn, can ne'er return.'

O ruffled shape! O bananas golden!
Thou, underwear shall not remain silent,
in midst of other woe, to whom thou say'st,
'Bananas are underwear, Underwear bananas, -
That is all you know on earth, and all you need to know.'

Take that, John Keats.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Top Ten Trivia Tips about Schrodinger's Kitten!

1. In Japan it is considered rude to talk with Schrodinger's Kitten in your mouth.

2. About one tenth of Schrodinger's Kitten is permanently covered in ice.

3. Schrodinger's Kitten has only one weakness - the colour yellow.

4. A Schrodinger's Kittenometer is used to measure Schrodinger's Kitten.

5. A cluster of bananas is called a hand and consists of 10 to 20 bananas, which are individually known as Schrodinger's Kitten.

6. The word 'samba' means 'to rub Schrodinger's Kitten'.

7. Baskin Robbins once made Schrodinger's Kitten flavoured ice cream!

8. Early Christians believed earthquakes were caused by Schrodinger's Kitten fighting underground.

9. Duelling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are Schrodinger's Kitten.

10. While sleeping, fifteen percent of men snore, and ten percent grind their Schrodinger's Kitten!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Let's forget 'Spock's Brain', shall we?

Stardate...Sep...tember 8...196...6
(read in Kirk rhythmic voice)

Star Trek premiered 40 years ago tomorrow on NBC.

However, the genesis of the show dates to March 11, 1964, when Roddenberry wrote a 16-page draft pilot for a show he told network executives would be a "Wagon train to the stars,'' Later that year, shooting began on the first "Star Trek" pilot episode, "The Cage.''

In interviews and memoirs written before he died, Roddenberry said NBC executives rejected the pilot as "too cerebral'' but were impressed enough to green-light a second pilot.

Despite its intensely loyal following (read: geeks), Star Trek was canceled by NBC after only 3 seasons, and the last first-run episode aired in June 1969, a little more than a month before the Apollo 11 crew landed on the moon. 40 years of spin-offs followed with good and bad moments. Good = "Resistance is Futile", Bad = Kirk meets God, Iffy = Whoopi as Dr. Phil.

Plans are under way for another "Trek" film in 2008, with J.J. Abrams at the helm. Lost fans rejoice! Matthew Fox as Kirk! Locke as Spock!

From CNN, Shatner has something to say about why we love the Trek:

"SHATNER: It's the characters, it's the uniqueness. [It's] Mr. Spock. It is the relationship between Spock and Kirk. It is the relationship that the three of us had, the compadres, the family. The levels of meaning of the show. The uniqueness of the science fiction at that time. It was all that and many other things, but the curious thing is, nobody really knows. So anything you say is as valid as anything we could say. 'Cause if we knew what it was --

NIMOY: We'd do it again.

SHATNER: And again. And to keep trying. And I haven't got it yet."

And here comes the knew I had to say it. May Star Trek live long and prosper.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

For Your Consideration: Best Treadmill Video

I've been holding onto this for days, for one of those special lulls, when you just need a pick-me-up. When a smile won't do just need preppy boys dancing on treadmills.

And I know you're not tired of them, Here it is: Schrodinger's Kitten's offical blog band 'OK Go', performing their video for 'Here It Goes Again' at the MTV Video Music Awards.

These boys rock some serious treadmill.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Save the Date: June 1, 2021

Today, I decided I've had it with dating. Relationships with me and men are doomed, no matter the context or compatibility, due to one simple problem.

They're free to find someone else.

Fortunately I found this:

These men are not only into working out all day long (hello buff abs), but they're aggressive, tough and 'men's men'. Possibly literally. I notice they don't indicate why they're incarcerated. Not that I'm going to be singling out the guys in for murder. I have other interests.

But I do like the posting of release dates. It's hard to plan a wedding that's 15 years out, but I can do it!

Notice their names end in numbers - very Jean Valjean. Hot!

They list them by age bracket - starting at 18....see me, I'm desperate in my old age. I'm an old maid, getting up there. But young girls aged 18 don't need to be starting out on convicted felons. I mean, start off with a nice young pot dealer, or your neighborhood petty thief. At least start with felons smart enough to get away with it. Then move on to the ones that got caught.

So I started chatting with John3623, who is interested in exercises, shivving, and getting his GED. We hit it off immediately, and I'm seeing him next month on his conjugal visit. Wish me luck!

Friday, September 01, 2006

My Two Party Non-Denominational A-sexual Possible Psychic Hypnotist Supposed Stylist...Maybe.

I wrote a blog a few weeks ago about a random hairstylist I had, and our interesting session together. The blog world is tight, but imagine my surprise when said hairstylist e-mailed me today telling me that he read my blog after another haircut client sent it to him. Said client was upset that I thought he was straight (he is not) and that he was a Republican (he has not denied this, but wrote a lengthy diatribe about how the two party system is bunk.) He at length described how long he's been gay, the last time he slept with a woman, and more details on his dual a party voting tendencies.

He also thoughtfully provided a complete copy of my blog entry, EDITED...with "corrections and suggestions".

Picture me sitting at my monitor, agog.

Now, far be it from me to assume this meant that he intended me to correct a personal blog entry. Far be it from me to assume that he wished the item to remain on my site edited because he said...and I quote..."I feel famous" with a nice smiley face. Far be it for me to assume he thinks that after our 45 minutes of human existence together, that I should know him extremely well, and get his 2-party political leanings and sexual college fraternity reminiscing correct. Clearly I wasn't paying enough attention to the minutiae of the guy that cut my hair once. Shame on me. I wasn't trying to ridicule Mr. Stylist then. NOW I am.

So, I'm taking this blog entry to make an announcement that apparently isn't clear:

This isn't the Washington Post.

And here's another disclaimer: This is a personal attempt at a humourous story-telling blog. All items are changed to be funnier and far more interesting than my actual life, and if you haven't realized that, then I feel sorry for you. I feel like James Frey!

I'm sure Neilochka doesn't have this problem with his talking penis blogs. His penis doesn't write back suggesting dialogue changes. Or maybe it does....Neil?

Now, I do feel that if someone is upset, then I am more than happy to delete the post in question. He was upset, or at least a client was. Apparently the rest of my commentary on his nice hands, cute hair and great haircutting skills has utterly DESTROYED his professional career by not outing him and his political beliefs. So said post is deleted.

I'd prefer people to read about themselves and think 'hey - cool' rather than spend an unprecedented amount of time cutting blogs when they should be out cutting hair. Hell, I don't even edit my blogs that much. And keep in mind that all my posts include no last names, and it's pretty odd that a female reader of mine happened to know this one random person in all of Los Angeles, AND got UPSET enough about my misinterpretation that he's a straight right-leaning gentleman to CALL him and discuss. What a freak! Whoever this girl is - here's an open suggestion that you stop reading my blog. As Steve Martin says to the audience in his stand up routine 'I don't NEED you. I can do this routine alone. I often do."

To everyone else I write about that I know personally - I love you. I write about you because I find you interesting. Please feel free to say 'hey - that's not what happened' in a funny way in the comments. But let me point this out : OF COURSE THATS NOT WHAT HAPPENED. DUH. Life is boring. Rarely do people say brilliant and hysterical things all day long. Rarely do things tie up with theme and a story arc in my daily life. But If I say Joe who I don't know other than that he cut my hair once is a straight Republican and he's a gay Democrat, for the love of Richard Dean Anderson don't get pissed about it. Just comment, send me a photo of Bush on a skewer and cock, or suck it up and realize it's all my interpretation of you. But for god's sake, don't edit me. I will not be edited.

Other bloggers - help me out on this! Have you ever been edited? What do you do? Do you research facts and resumes of your subjects and always have dual sources before you 'publish'?

I think from now on I'll refer to people only by code names, so if they get back to me, I can say, "It's not you...It's some other two party non-denominational gay psychic hypnotist stylist in West Hollywood." Clearly, I'm going to have to find another place to get haircuts, or start taping all my daily activities with hidden microphones.

As I looked at this e-mail from my hairstylist with corrections and deletions highlighted in RED font, I realized...sigh...the old adage is true:
Everyone's a critic.