I have never, to my knowledge, met a man who felt sartorially stunted by his inability to wear pantyhose on a regular basis. In fact, I sort of assumed that tight nylon over the male genitalia—let alone over all that leg hair—would be uncomfortable. Not so, according to e-MANcipate.net, a suspiciously European-looking site devoted to advocating for men whose brethren think his tights-wearing is… um… fey. Or something that rhymes with fey.

I don’t have much else to say about this, except to warn you that the website feels vaguely porny (probably because the model looks like a cheesy gay porn star) and will give you inexplicable willies. The promotional photos, however, are sort of amazing.

Here are some of my faves:

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Recently around NYC, I’ve been seeing more and more of these things, new (to new york) amphibious boat/bus tour thingie-things called “ducks”, and for the first time in my life, have felt tempted to play tourist and go for a ride. While trying to navigate through NYC traffic is never really fun, the idea of heading off the road, down a ramp, and flying into the water sounds like good times!

But then I saw this:

It’ll be making it’s debut in 2009 and looks sweeeeeet. I think i’ll hold out for a ride in the duck that can cross the english channel in less than 2 hours.

Last night I saw a commercial for “Tropical Thunder” a compliation CD of “the most boomin’ Island hits of all time.” Just as I was laughing into my large glass of wine at the vision of 15 neon clad asses dancing on a beach to the tunes of Shaggy, John Paul, and Shabba Ranks, I had this crazy moment where I completely remembered an entire chunk of my life I had entirely forgotten. Or blocked out. Back in the early 90’s I actually loved some of that shit, including the totally awesome “Unity” album by Shinehead which I listened to 30 times a day. Really!!!
Note to Self: Find “Unity” on i-tunes and download the entire album STAT. PS… Find Shabba Ranks too.
Should I be ashamed? Maybe. But I find it completely refreshing that 1990 just came rushing back to me out of nowhere. I also just remembered my friends and I had a whole dance routine to Technotronic’s “Move This” and if you meet me one of these days, I will definitely do it for you. Again, not ashamed.
Anyway, the “Tropical Thunder” CD also reminded me of my freshman year of college when I lived next to kid who incessantly played “Rumpshaker” by Wreckx-N-Effect and “Sweat (a la la la long)” by some random Caribbean band. He was fresh off the boat (or plane, or whatever people do these days) from Korea, so I gave him a break. He was clearly stretching his new American legs, and I knew he was better than that. The truth is, things can be worse than be being woken up by bass pumping through the cinderblock dorm walls along with the tune, “all I wanna do is a zum zum in the boom boom.” Trust me, it’s a lot worse getting woken up by someone spraying a fire extinguisher on your passed out semi corpse after drinking a gallon of Zima. Plus, I was happy I wasn’t living next to the kid down the hall who wore the GWAR t-shirt all the time, because I am pretty sure he meant it. I really didn’t need the stress of some role playing wacko trying to assault me with a pretend guillotine on the way to the can.
ANYWAY, “Rumpshaker” was clearly about anal sex. That is how we interpreted then, in my high powered round table discussions. You don’t need to be a collegiate genius with a bong named Bluedini to figure that one out, you’re welcome.
Also, the lyrics of “Sweat” are clearly about tossing someone’s salad. Everyone thinks he is supposed to say “looking in your big brown eyes” but in actuality, he never says the full word “eyes.” He says “EYE” and we all know a big brown eye is just a nice term for a cornhole, or mudwhistle.  So basically the gist of the song is this: “My tongue gets tied and that’s no lie. I’m looking in your eye. I’m looking in your big brown eye, and I’ve got this to say to you—Girl I wanna make you sweat, sweat till you can’t sweat no more. And if you cry out, I’m gonna push it some more.”
Salad tossing sodomy!
And that was the conspiracy theory of ‘93/94 in my dorm. That is also why I do not currently work at a Fortune 500 company.

My #1 (Radiohead) and #2 (or # 3 or 4 depending on my mood, Arcarde Fire) favorite bands - and i’m roughly guesstimating like 30% of the rest of the world’s favorites as well - hang together!

I’ll be huddled next to my heater for the rest of the day*  and day dream about the things they talk about…

*It’s 50 degrees in this office, I’m wearing a sweater and mittens and am still cold, but instead of turning the a/c down a tad they bring me a heater. Brilliant, I know.

Imaginary interaction:

Thom: (slow, wonky-eyed blink) I hate Oasis.

Win: I hate Hillary Clinton (pulls strings off and smashes guitar with message taped to it, muttering something in French). 

Thom: (slow, wonky-eyed blink)

-End Scene-

Living on the top floor of an apartment which stands somewhat alone from other buildings and is surrounded by a large body of water (the Hudson), I have discovered that lightning storms are freaking spectacular. Whenever one begins, I turn off the tv, grab some popcorn, and watch the sky light up as the wind screams like a tea kettle through the cracks in in my windows, water leaks in through any cracks in the panes, and Piper huddles further down under the blankets.

So far (in the past three months) lightning has hit so close that the entire room lights up like daylight and all the little hairs on my arms stand straight up… this has already happened twice. While the odds of being struck are like one in three million, these numbers aren’t split evenly across the board. Some (golfers, swimmers, lawnmovers) are much more likely to be stuck than others (manhattanites, couch potatos, college students at finals time). Anyway, I’ve developed an interest in what it takes to be hit - since it seems like I might be any day now - and from what i’ve read it seems that lightning has a bit of a sense of humor:

Read the rest of this entry »

friend: i am emailing you an atrocious excuse for a bikini top
me: yay  

me: wow. seriously. that bikini is patently ridiculous. it would only fit on the boobless
friend: the description even says “designed for AA, A, and B cups only”. If ANYONE was wearing that, they’d look like they’d accidentally put their bikini in the dryer, or had shopped in the children’s section
me: i know! the only situation in which i would wear that is on a nude beach, and even then going naked would be less embarrassing
friend: heh. ok, they need to invent shorts that go just below one’s cellulite, but which are fitted and will not cling to cotton fabric exclusively to be worn under stupid short sundresses. i don’t like that every breeze or updraft has my bootie exposed
me: i know. walking down into the subway is bad enough what with the urine stench and oppressive heat. i don’t need my bits exposed by a wayward draft.
friend: i tried a pair of short yoga shorts but the waistband was too bulky
me: sometimes i think it’s too bad the skort is so heinous, because it’s kind of a great idea.

You know those internet moments that are so embarassing for the person that it actually makes you cringe? Like Alec Baldwin’s voicemail to his daughter?

Well, the mystery method seems to have bitten yet another poor victim in the ass:

Haw haw!

She’s Crafty is your step-by-step guide to arts and crafts projects you can do for under $20.

Create a picture frame that says “I know it’s a picture of you, but I still want to look at me.”

You will need:

• mirror tiles ($6.95)
• picture frame
• clear-drying glue

Pick out a picture frame that’s flat or partially flat.  This dollar store frame had a flat area and a beveled inner edge, which I left showing.

Glue the mirrored tiles along all four sides of the front, spacing them evenly. Glue the tiles to the sides of the frame too, if they’ll fit. Once the glue is dry, you can spread tile grout between the mirrored pieces to make it into a true mosaic.

Don’t worry about smudging glue or grout on the mirrored pieces. They come covered in a protective plastic coat that you can peel off.

Air guitarist loses toe (while rocking too hard).

I can’t even stand it.