Blogroll Plus One: Mr. Sass Goes to Washington

Once upon a time, this blog had a different name (OMFG, NYC!) and it starred two gay men masquerading as Blanche and Jane from the cult classic "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"

After a few months of brilliant back-and-forths, those two men went in their different directions, and OMFGNYC underwent a massive transformation to become the blog you're reading today. Everything changes, and while they come with growing pains - things happen the way they do for a reason.

The other (not-Justin) one has since moved to DC and carried with him the cruel, catty, and abso-fuckin-lutely amazing blog he used to pen, and christened it Socialite Commentary DC.

Once NYC-based, the NEW Socialite Commentary is even funnier, wittier, cattier, and snappier than its predecessor and it comes from our country's mixed-up land of pillars, politics, and prostitutes.

Its blog-God, my good friend Patrick, updates on a daily basis with brilliant musings penned in a way that only he can do (believe me, I've tried, failed, and seen others try to do the same.) He just has a way of packing a sentence with razor blades, whoopee cushions, and MENSA-like intelligence.

His description:

Who says there are no good role models anymore? Here at Socialite Commentary (DC), we take an in depth look at the wave-makers and cocktail shakers that provide exemplary behavior. So enjoy this veritable "How-to Guide" for, by and with the socially inept.

Done in the style of a "How-To" guide, Patrick tells you how to do everything from:

How to Make Gender Bending Creepy
How to Make Dazzling Dinner Party Conversation

and

How to Celebrate Black History Month in Style

Since none of us blogging peasants can write what is the textual version of a proper bitchslap, we might as well oooh and ahhh at someone who can - consistently and completely.

Each post on Socialite Commentary DC is quick, to the point, and enough to make you actually LOL at work, causing your co-workers to stare at you and roll their eyes.

Fuck them, what do they know, right?

So check out Socialite Commentary DC. I've gone ahead and added it to my blog roll at the bottom-right to join the ranks of other blogging brilliance. Be sure to stop by, say hi, and have an effing blast.

Taco-Kill-The-Who?

I came across this apparently amazing taco joint in Sunset Park, which allegedly has the best tacos in New York and a facade unlike any genuine taco joint in the borough.

Then I noticed the name of the restaurant.



Taco Kill the Muslims? Am I wrong -- isn't that how this translates?

That's harsh, man. Although I will try your delicious $1.25 tacos.

Making your band (in 60 seconds)

Okay, this is a fun game for a run-of-the-mill Tuesday morning (why did I think it was Wednesday? Damn you, calendar!!)

Via BuzzFeed, here's a way to come up with a band name, an album name, and cover art in close to no time at all:

New meme: here's a totally random way to make your new random band's new random album cover. Post one! Go to “Wikipedia.” Hit “random” and the first article you get is the name of your band. Then go to “Random Quotations” and the last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album. Then, go to Flickr and click on “Explore the Last Seven Days” and the third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Of course I wouldn't recommend a distraction without trying it first myself. And, to be honest, I am proud of this random gem. It TOTALLY seems like the kind of CD (or iTunes cover art) I would see on the desk of one of the alt-rock punk-emo designers I work with:

Now it's your turn! Post on your blog, or right here. Take a few minutes for yourself today - this is really a hoot.

xoJR

Myspace is Dead, but the Message Never Dies

My friend Hanna Lopatin. She just quit her job in commercial production to hit the road and do what she really wants!

Like everyone who quits their job in a recession to pursue what they really want, I salute you!

(translation: Myspace = Facebook, for anyone under the age of 14)

The MySpace Song by Hanna LoPatin - watch more funny videos

Which is the Better Moet Ad?

If you were at an Oscar's party, and you had to choose between this



and this



Which Moet would you rather drink?

This was at the same party. Those boobs are painted, not clothed, by the way.

The Depression Chef

Yes, it may be hard to tell from the glitz and glamour of the Oscars and the long lines that seem to remain everywhere from Best Buy to Barney's, but we are in an economic recession.

It has been a long time since one of these came around, but luckily for us - not too long of a time.

Thankfully we can still look back to those who faced the tough times, and survived... like Clara, the Depression Chef

Clara was born in 1915 and grew up in Chicago during the Great Depression. Now she's on YouTube teaching a new generation how to make the simple, inexpensive food that her family used to eat during those hard times.

Clara has her own YouTube channel and online video series wherein she teaches us the hard-knock tricks of the trade that helped her family survive the Great Depression. Here are a few of her videos:

Pasta with Peas



Peppers and Eggs


Depression Era Breakfast


While not all of us are feeling the hardships (right now, thankfully, I am not) many others of us are. It's good to get the tips and secrets of someone who's seen something worse than this before. And for anyone who has no problem grabbing a table at Cafeteria or Vespa or Per Se, you should watch Clara any way because she's just so goddammed cute!

I will close this post with the inspirational words of my good friend Paul:

"If she made it through, we'll be fine."

Amen to that, sir. Amen to that.

Oscars Gay Glitz and Glamour!

Last week's co-blogger (whose apartment I was at last night to watch the festivities) called the Oscars the gay Superbowl. I respectfully disagree, far preferring to cite the Tony's as that gay night of nights, while relegating the Academy Awards to something like the Orange Bowl.

But then again last night, with the gigantic musical medley performed by a tight tuxedoed Hugh Jackman (wolverine is so fey when he shaves off those mutton chops!), a chorus line of twinky tuxed tune-istas, Beyonce, Vanessa Hudgins and Zak Efron (and Dominick Cooper and that girl from Mean Girls/ Big Love/ Mamma Mia) - maybe he was right.

Gay or not, it was ONE HELL OF A PERFORMANCE. If you didn't see it - take the 6 minutes to watch it right here:



And, not to be outdone was the medley of nominated original songs, featuring my personal favorite (and the winner!) Jai Ho. (this is also worth the 7-minute investment, trust me):



The evening all in all was a legitimately classy production. I was not bored for a minute. I loved the set, the video clips, the way they executed the actor awards... everything. I missed the first hour, but will be watching it tonight. I've already heard good things about the Tina Fey/Steve Martin bit...

Any way - all I have to say is bravo Oscar! In an economic recession you went all out and provided us almost 4 hours of quality escapism. To a magical, glamorous world of movie stars and fantasy.

I thank you for every minute of it.

Good Pantsuit vs. Bad Pantsuit

Hello Everyone! My name is Sarah Pappalardo, and I am this week's Plus One.

My favorite lesbian is Rachel Maddow.



My least favorite lesbian is Suze Orman.



Rachel is a lesbian's lesbian. She's definitely the smartest one, a pundit's pundit, and works for all the right media outlets. Suze Orman captures the hearts of Oprah and my mother.

I know Suze Orman's life story, because her informercial is on repeat whenever I visit my mother's television-infested home. Her face, with a cake of bad makeup and inch-thick eyeliner, make her look like a field hockey coach that got into the hands of a suburban cosmetology student. And I repeat: she is strongly aligned with Oprah.

Rachel, on the other hand, would probably make Oprah a little uncomfortable, because she is so much smarter than Oprah. And I'm going to take a guess that she doesn't feel the need to empower suburban moms. She likes good booze a little too much. And her glasses are too liberal.

You know what gets me the most? As soon as the inevitable recession reared its ugly head, Suze is at her laptop, somewhere between New York, San Fran or Florida, writing a book as fast as humanly possible to get as much money before her three-waves-behind feminist fans lose all hope for living. Boom! It's a New York Times Bestseller, so obviously people can still afford new books.

As if Suze was the only person who lived in a van in Berkeley in the 70's, she peddles her "I came from nothing!" story as if her honest waitress roots give her some kind of authenticity. I was a waitress. I'm miles away from authentic. I'm contemplating lipo right now, and there are people giving blowjobs for pizza outside my door. I'm just way too cool to sell common sense.

Meet Sarah!

From one East Coast borough to the next, we now hop a train (what train goes from Queens to Brooklyn? I always forget) to Bushwick, Bklyn where this week's Plus One resides. Everyone please say hello to co-blogger Sarah.

As women on J+1 are a rarity (but not for long!) I expect you to be on your best behavior. I told her that only the classiest of folks read this blog.



My Name:
Sarah Pappalardo

My Location:
Bushwick, Brooklyn

My Site/ Sites:
Diary-ah
www.velvetparkmedia.com
getsteady.com
www.theupturn.com

What I might post about:
Interest rates, structured investment vehicles, growth, the wives of investment bankers, shrinkage, having sex with the wives of former investment bankers

What I love:
Chris Brown, Ike Turner, world peace

What I hate:
Malaria, man. Malaria sucks.

My Last Word:
I used to think it was cool to write

in blank verse

Don't Let the J+1 Go Down On Me...

Well everyone it seems my week as Justin’s plus one has come to an end, and what a week it was! You got to learn a little bit about my family and my embarrassing and disgusting moments. I shared some videos and current events, as well as some commentary of the shape of society today. Which is all fancy talk for saying that I hope you enjoyed my random musings and bizarre interests.

If you haven’t already I hope you’ll check me out on www.homo-neurotic.com as I contribute my weekly sex/relationship column and some pop culture reporting. I hope to write for J+1 and you all again soon, have a wonderful weekend!!

XOXO

BB

Bless me Father, for I have Poked

While most catholic adults humbly (or loudly) give up candy, cigarettes, or red wine for their pre-Easter sacrifices, there's a new Lenten Lamb in town.

Facebook.

No I'm not kidding. According to this Wall Street Journal article, a large number of conservative Catholic adults are foregoing Facebook for the 40 days of Lent.

Lenten sacrifices are meant to honor and in a small way reenact the 40 days Jesus is said to have wandered the wilderness, fasting and resisting temptation. Abstaining from Facebook for the 40 days of Lent was the rage among college students last year. This Lenten season -- which starts next week on Ash Wednesday -- the cause has been taken up by a surprising number of adults. The digital sacrifice won't be easy, they say, but it may help them reclaim their analog lives.

The cute term for this sacrifice is the Facebook Fast. I'm sure God appreciates that his creations are spending 40 tag-free days worshipping him. But really? Facebook?

Well, we are in a new age. I guess.

All I have to say is: didn't Jesus caution us to stay awake and be ready, for we do not know the hour that the lord is coming? Well a lot of Catholics are going to be in a heap of holy trouble if our savior returns... but only posts the announcement as a Facebook note.

Recessionista....or Stupid?

During the Great Depression people adopted many practices to survive. They changed the way they cooked; to spend less on pricey cuts of meat they began eating liver and kidneys. They repurposed clothes and conserved energy as much as possible. They also were reluctant to get rid of anything that may be useful, as evidenced by your grandparents’ assortment of magazines, newspapers, and otherwise worthless stuff they have piled in their basement.

It may not really feel like we are in a recession or depression ourselves, but with the black cloud of the media hanging over our head crying, “Crisis!” it is a bit difficult to ignore. Though I haven’t taken to eating innards just yet, unless you count the generic mystery meat hot dogs I regularly consume, I have noticed myself engaging in some depression-era activities. I’ve always saved cards and hand written notes, but now I have begun rinsing out cottage cheese and margarine containers, storing with the rest of my fine Gladware for all the leftovers I’ll want to save in these unstable times.

But perhaps the most notable and odious activity, according to my friends, that I reluctantly admit to committing, is picking things up off the street. Ok, let me just say that I am not picking up newspapers, or used mattresses or anything that looks like it could be deadly or disgusting, but I may have thrown caution to the wind the day I found mascara. I was on my way to work and I noticed in front of me on the sidewalk the tell-tale navy and silver tube that indicates the best you can buy for your lashes: Dior. The packaging was pristine, not a scratch or a mark on it, clearly it had just been carelessly dropped by a rushed working woman.

Now say what you will, but a little mascara can go a long way, and this was a different shade than the one I had at home. I threw it in my bag and went on my way. I let it sit on my shelf for weeks, while my friends told me all the eye maladies that would befall me if I used it. Having recently had pink-eye, it did some a risky bet to use a stranger’s eye make-up, but it’s also risky to eat past due dairy and I’ve done that as well. So one night, already a little buzzed from my pregame and not wanting to weigh the pros and cons of this existential question, I put some on. My lashes had never looked longer, and they even seemed to curl with danger under the brush of my purloined cosmetic.

Well I survived. Blindness didn’t ensue the next day, and my eyes are still clear and healthy. I found a cat mask on the street last night and immediately put it on. Who knows? I may need that sometime in the future. I think we would all be a little more comfortable with the economic downturn if we just relax a little, and do what we need to survive and still stay sexy. But I may need to throw that mascara away. There are things worth saving, but perhaps our health should be the first and foremost. Some risks aren’t worth taking twice, that’s something you learn after a swig of sour milk.

Behind the Times: Bjork and Real Facebook

I try my darnedest to keep up with the Web. But with millions of videos of people being hit in the groin by other people's groins uploaded every day, even I can miss a video or two.

Are you like me? Do you sometimes send around the funniest thing you've ever seen only to get back emails from your friends saying "Whoa Grampa! Where've you been? Under a rock with smaller rocks on your eyes and in your ears? Totes saw this LAST YEAR-ZO!"

Well if you are, then maybe you haven't seen these videos either. One's half a year old, the other is a week old.

Both are hilarious.

Enjoy (or enjoy again!)

Bjork (Kristin Wiig) discusses Iceland's failing economy


What if Facebook were real life?

Snuggie Pub Crawl!

OMFG! I just found that there is to be a Snuggie Pub Crawl in New York! (Date TBD, sorry all you non-NYers, but they are holding them in other cities too!) I'm not even going to pretend like you may not know what a Snuggie is, but in case you aren't aware of the coolest/warmest blanket with sleeves out there, than watch this video below.



Aren't convinced it's the greatest invention (well until the Mustachle at least)? Too bad for you! My Snuggie brethern and I (and you know we will look like a creepy cult) will be pub crawling it up in the near future.

Go HERE for more details and to sign up for the email reminders!

Green, mean, and COMING RIGHT FOR US

Ahoy, Stargazers! This Monday, take a look up at the Southern sky. You may see something bright and green flying backwards through the sky.

No, that's not Tinkerbell, or Kylie Minogue as The Green Fairy in Moulin Rouge.


via videosift.com

No, it's Lulin - the little, backwards-moving, green-glowing comet that could.

The comet makes its closest approach to Earth (0.41 AU) on Feb. 24, 2009. Lulin's green color comes from the gases that make up its Jupiter-sized atmosphere. Jets spewing from the comet's nucleus contain cyanogen (CN: a poisonous gas found in many comets) and diatomic carbon (C2). Both substances glow green when illuminated by sunlight in the near-vacuum of space.

And this is your only chance to see Loony Lulin. It came from the outskirts of the solar system, 18 trillion miles away. Once it's made the journey around the sun, Lulin will gain enough speed to escape the solar system.

The best opportunity is just before dawn one-third of the way up the southern sky. It should be near Saturn and two bright stars, Spica and Regula.

Of course, on Monday nights I am usually stumbling out of Musical Mondays at Splash by Union Square. And, with vodka running through me and showtunes still at my back, I often see floating green things. And most of the time they're singing something from the 2004 Tony Awards.

More on Lulin here, if you want a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and can handle less rest before the your next day of work.

The MUSTACHLE!

Well since today seems to be product day on Justin + 1, I am thrilled to officially announce the greatest thing I’ve ever invented: The Mustachacle! (Part Mustache, Part Monocle)


Have you ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I wish I could somehow change my appearance without going to the trouble of actually growing a mustache?” Or, have you ever wanted to look more mysterious or distinguished? Perhaps you’d like to cover that unsightly mole or ‘birthmark,’ or simply would like to be able to unironically offer someone a mustache ride? Well then the Mustachacle is for you!

Perfect for any occasion, the Mustachacle is lightweight and portable, and certain to impress your friends and colleagues.

Need a little more dash at your dinner party? Mustachle!

Want to look more opulent at the opera? Mustachle!

Wish you could be more badass at your business meeting? Mustachle!



Call today, for just three easy payments of $1.99, the Mustachle can be yours!

And it looks great with the Naked, Tuxedo, or this T-Shirt below!

Naked shirt!

Remember that kid in high school who thought he was so cool when he wore that lame-o t-shirt that looked like it was a one-dimensional tuxedo? And he wore it to the prom or photo day? And you all rolled your eyes and wondered when was the last time his cigarette-smoking, lotto-playing mother forced him to shower?

Well now we have something his weird and awkward friend can wear to photo day as well, before they're both forced to the nurse's office for mandatory lice screening.

It's the naked shirt.

A little creepy. Kinda Silence-of-the-Lambs, John Wayne Gacy-esque.

But hey man, it looks a LOT better than the alternative.

At(wood)'a Girl!

Everyday Publisher's Lunch comes to me at work. (A trade daily newsletter, for those of you not privileged and poor enough to work in publishing) Today I was beyond thrilled to learn that Margaret Atwood, author of such classics as The Handmaid's Tale, cancelled her appearance at an upcoming conference because of their decision to not include a controversial book and novelist. Read on below...



"Margaret Atwood has pulled out of the Emirates Airline International Festival for Literature in the wake of the fair's decision to cancel the launch of Geraldine Bedell's The Gulf Between Us because of the inclusion of a gay character. Other authors due to appear at the festival, including bestselling children's authors Anthony Horowitz and Lauren Child, are now also reconsidering whether to attend.

Atwood, a vice president of International PEN, has written to the festival's director about the 'regrettable turn of events'surrounding Geraldine Bedell's The Gulf Between Us. 'I was greatly looking forward to the festival, and to the chance to meet readers there; but, as an international vice president of PEN - an organization concerned with the censorship of writers - I cannot be part of the festival this year,' she wrote in a letter posted on her official site. I know you have put an enormous amount of work into it, I can imagine how many difficulties have had to be overcome, and I am very sad about the regrettable turn of events surrounding The Gulf Between Us.'Bedell responded further with a post yesterday on the Guardian Books Blog: 'Can you have a literary festival and ban books because they feature gay characters? Is that what being part of the contemporary literary scene means? The organisers claim to be looking for an exchange of ideas - but not, apparently, about sex or faith. That doesn't leave literature an awful lot of scope.'"

More at:
Guardian
Bedell's Guardian Blog

Maybe we should all pick up a copy of The Gulf Between Us, whenever it becomes available.

Kill the Cartoonist!

I was chatting with Blair just before (what, you didn't know I chat with my Plus Ones off of the blog as well!?) when an email came to me by the way of the Huffington Post.

Now, I have always said (as I said to my friend Ricky in an email earlier) that I don't think anything is off limits as far as humor goes. ANYTHING. Can be funny. Nothing is too soon. The edgier and riskier it is, the better the joke is, no matter who cries about it.

Yeah. Well I take that back.

This cartoon appeared in today's New York Post.

And I have to say, it leaves me feeling a little sick. Let's start by looking at it... I don't think it's just me who sees this (it isn't) but it seems almost as if the cartoonist is comparing the crazy chimp that attacked a lady to Barack Obama.

So we have the race issue: because blacks have often been compared to monkeys.

But he's not just a monkey, he's a crazed, violent chimp. Because, you know, signing a stimulus to help millions keep their jobs and randomly unleashing oneself to maul a stranger are one in the same.

But really what gets me is the fact that the chimp is shot. I mean come on people, I'm not a sensitive guy and this has me feeling sick to my stomach.

Can the conservative assholes give our President at least a FEW WEEKS before they attack him? I mean, how about they wait until Barack screws up once on par with the screwups of our ex schmuck in chief?

Seriously. Offensive. Disgusting. Stupid. Can someone please find this cartoonist and gun him down? Code of Hammuarbi his ass.

Nostalgia Reading

Perhaps some of you have heard of this obscure little YA book series called Twilight. Well if you haven’t you are most likely not reading a blog or conscious, so I’ll go ahead and assume that all of you have at least heard mention of Stephanie Myers’ name, or seen a poster and thought, “He’s not THAT cute.” What? I know I’m not the only one.

Anyway, it seems everyone and their mother has now read Twilight, the same way we’ve all read Harry Potter. No, I am not interested in comparing the two series, because clearly HP wins hands down (sorry tweeny bloodsucker lovers), nor am I interested in arguing the positive or negative effects these series have had on the literacy of youth. I have noticed though, that adults seem to have become so enamored with these books intended for young readers, they’ve taken to discovering or rediscovering past classics and favorites from their youth.

It started when I saw a woman reading The Golden Compass on the train. Sure, the movie was out recently, but it got horrible reviews and didn’t do nearly as well as the previously mentioned books or The Chronicles of Narnia. But I began to notice more and more adults indulging in YA novels of the Gossip Girl and other teen drama variety. Personally, I am obsessed with The Luxe series. (Think Gossip Girl at the turn of the century.)

And now I wonder how long it would be until we were all back to reading Christopher Pike, R.L. Stine, and Roald Dahl. I have the complete set of Little House books sitting above my desk, which I’ve been dying to delve again ever since I completed them back in 4th grade. Are the Boxcar Children far behind? How much will we regress in the name of nostalgia reading?

Now maybe it’s just the movie and TV tie-ins that have ushered us back to adolescence, and what this says about the state of literacy and literature in America today, I don’t know. But when even Oprah is picking 576 page novels for her book club, I guess you can’t blame us for seeking out a little ‘light reading.’

What’s your guilty reading pleasure?

Ka-Ching of Pop

Oh Michael Jackson, how far you've fallen.

And yes, I realize that's a strange statement to make when speaking of MJ, as he keeps seeming to hit rock bottom, before crashing through another 8 floors like Homer Simpson when he auditioned for the Stonecutters.

I remember when I was 9 and addicted to the King of Pop. I dressed as him from the Bucharest HBO concert on Halloween. I probably had a weird, secret crush on him (who knew, I probably stood a chance with him! What, too soon?)

Well, now MJ is putting his Neverland Valley Ranch up on the auction block. Just about everything inside is being put up for grabs.

The extensive list of items being auctioned off includes a custom-created costume jacket worn by Jackson for his Hollywood Walk of Fame star dedication ceremony, which is expected to fetch $15,000 to $20,000, the auction house shared with MTV News. There's also a pair of acrylic, rhinestoned tube socks (perfect for display under short pants) worn during his 1981 Triumph tour with the Jackson brothers, expected to bring in between $600 and $800. Also, a custom-designed white spandex, right-hand glove completely covered in clear Swarovski crystals is expected to be auctioned off for somewhere between $10,000 and $15,000. Other items include three suits of armor, fine paintings, costumes, baubles, massive statuary, awards, furniture and even the gates to the ranch. An estimated total value of all the items on the block is $1.5 million to $3 million.

It's so weird, because I remember being a young lad, looking at how all of my parents' bands and superstars went to pasture and thinking "what will happen to my superstars? What will happen to MJ and N*Sync and Britney?"

Well, here is the proof that every generation falls to dust. Whether putting their ranches up for auction, or flashing their vaginas to half the world before being kidnapped and smuggled away from the world by their parents.

You Can Dance If You Want To

Do you know what I thought I’d never come to miss? Dancing. When I was little I’d dance all time, hell I was in 22 musicals before I graduated high school. While in high school I used to love to request “Love Shack” to dance with my friends, and “Last Dance” always ended the night. My best girlfriend and I even had a routine, a la Ross and Monica on Friends, that we’d perform at dances. It was pretty much just some sloppy swing moves and us spinning around. Nevertheless, times never seemed as happy and well gay while twirling innocently on the dance floor.

Sure, in college I had my fill of drunkenly dancing the night away at gay bars and clubs along the eastern seaboard and Europe. The boxes, platforms, and sticky floors, replaced the proscenium, gymnasiums, and cafeterias of my youth and crazy outfits, or no shirts at all, became my new costumes or semi-formal wear. But the nights still ended with me dripping in sweat, my ears ringing from the music, and my chest thumping as my heart slowly returned to a normal pace.

Now, perhaps not for everyone, but for me at least there seems to be a lot less dancing in my life, and I’d like to change that. So from the halcyon days of yore when there didn’t seem to be anything unusual, and certainly nothing gay about a crowd of teens moving in unison, I’d like to dedicate the following to all of you who’d like to rediscover the dance in you life. So turn it up, because “If you feel like dancing, come on! It’s up to you!”

Come On Ride the Train
Uploaded by ice1906

*Extra points if you can get your co-workers to form a train.

Yes, I am eight years old!

I love a good, witty joke filled with nuance and wordplay.

I guffaw heartily at the great comic plays of many generations past.

A pun, political cartoon, or insightful stand up act can get me giggling.

But really, what hits me the hardest and has me bending over, heaving to catch my breath, is this simple, no-frills, edited 20-second clip from Pretty Woman.

So juvenile. So cheap and low. So absolutely brilliant.

And who doesn't love a good fart gag?



Hey Blair - do you think she sharted? Check his papers!

'I'm her mom.' 'No, she's not!'

Since I know you all are fans of these new-fangled YouTube videos, I thought I’d share a recent and popular favorite. “Kittens, Inspired by Kittens,” is an adorable video of a girl narrating a book about…you guessed it, kittens!



When I was 5 years old I made my mom read a book about snakes to me, even though I hate snakes and would recoil at every picture. I think I would have enjoyed Kittens a bit more. Thanks for the psychological damage, mom!

Taking the easy way out

Sure I could go and see what the news for the day is. What's going on with the economy? Or that octuplet mom who wants to be Angelina Jolie? Sure I could sit down and talk about my crazy night at Splash...

But I'm sorta lazy, so I'm just going to post some absurdly adorable viral videos of cute animals doing cute things instead.

Animals doing adorable things tend to go viral quicker than anything else in this world. Take for instance these two videos... both now making the rounds quicker than a Greyhound.

First, we have this Great Dane puppy sitting on a Samoyed


and then we have

Rocky the Japanese puppy who walks like a human, and represents a law firm?


Ah what the hey, and here's a baby elephant playing with a blue ball.

Trauma-Rama: The 'Shart'

Like most younger brothers, I was often a pest to my older sister. I wanted to tag along when she went to play with her friends, or be included when her Barbies finally met their New Kids on the Block counterparts. Unlike most younger brothers, I read her Seventeen magazines not for pictures of cute girls to add to an adolescent spank bank, but for the delightfully trite, yet terrifying tales of the “Trauma-Rama” column.

It seemed that the worst thing that could happen to a girl involved three things: a backpack and/or sweater, a tampon, and her crush. If she wasn’t dropping her tampon on the floor in front of her crush, or he wasn’t handing it back to her after it dropped on his foot, she was stealthily hiding the telltale stain with her sweater and bemoaning her decision to wear white jeans that day.

Not a host to Aunt Flo each month myself, I can’t say I’ve experienced this personal tragedy, but I think there is one bodily function we’ve all fallen prey to that could fill a lifetime of ‘T-R’ columns: the ‘shart.’ What is particularly traumatizing about this often-involuntary action is that one can never be sure of the extent of the damage until you’ve had the opportunity to check yourself out in the bathroom.

My best friend, never a fan of underwear, or wearing anything but cotton pants to her telemarketing job, once sharted in her chair. Noting the stain it left on the upholstery, she left and didn’t return that day. I never had to leave work entirely but once spent the better part of an hour surreptitiously cleaning and drying my briefs and pants after an unfortunate and surprisingly wet shart.

My crush wasn’t present, and I didn’t have to wear a sweater around my waist the rest of the day, but as I walked back to my desk with a few paper towels tucked carefully into my briefs, I felt like one of those poor traumatized girls. My pants may have been intact, but my confidence was definitely stained, at least for that day.

Do you have an embarrassing story you‘d like to share?

Leave a comment and let B.B. and J+1’s ‘Trauma-Rama’ experts share your tragic tale.

Peanut Bitter

When they told me that fresh spinach was killing senior citizens, I shook my head and said that was a shame. But I never liked spinach leaves. When I heard that jalapeno peppers were being recalled, I winced and worried at the fate of my Subway sandwich lunches. But again, I persevered.

But now that they are recalling peanut butter, I just can't take it. I LOVE peanut butter. It is like manna from the heavens for me. My mom apparently ate it by the jarful when she was pregnant of me. And now I eat it by the jarful at the risk of looking like I'm pregnant.

I can eat peanut butter from a jar with a spoon. Reece's is practically a lover of mine. Butterfinger. Anything, really, that has peanut butter in it. It's the first ingredient I scan for on a dessert menu. It's the first flavor I consider at an ice cream shop(pe).

So you can imagine my dismay, nay my mortal torment over this current situation. WHAT TERRIBLE WORLD IS THIS IF THERE IS NO PEANUT BUTTER?

My god.

What will we have with jelly? MARGARINE?

Oh christ.

What will Reece's fill their cups with? NOUGAT?

I'd sooner hoover a full jar of peanut butter and accept my sticky, nutty, heavenly demise.

Dear terrorists: You can take our spinach. Our jalapeno peppers. But if you don't leave my peanut butter alone, I will go Jack Bauer on your ass and make you regret ever having fucked with me.

PS: Despite all of the peanut butter and peanut-related recalls in effect, Circus Peanuts are still on the shelves... because no one buys them any way.

Another one sucks the dick

Were you too enraptured with Valentine's Day this past Friday to catch this bit of news? In the grand tradition of Ted Haggard and half of the Republican party, yet another figure from the radical gay-hating right has been caught with his pants down and his cock out.

You may recognize Pastor T.D Jakes as the homophobic preacher who abhors gay marriage and has stated he would never hire a gay person. Well the hypocrisy train is coming to town! Jakes' son, Jermaine Jakes, was arrested in a gay sex sting last month it turns out.

Jakes was arrested after exposing himself to two male undercover cops, and guess what he listed as his place of employment? His father's 30,000 member strong Potters House mega-church in Dallas, TX.

So says the Manhunt Blog. (Yes, I didn't know Manhunt had a Blog, either - I figured their visitors weren't interested in reading...)

Hey Mr. Jakes - what are ya gonna do now that your number 2 was caught in some "sex presented pastorally?" (was Ben Vereen there, you think??)

News story below:

Happy Presidents' Day!

Greetings and thank you so much for having me this week, Justin! I hope that my unique blend of sarcastic and self-effacing commentary will be just the ticket for all you Plus One readers. I thought I’d also start out with an embarrassing story about myself, but what could tales of my drunken antics teach you? Quite a lot actually so I’ll post a few “Trauma-Rama” pieces this week, a la the glory days of Seventeen. But in the spirit of the holiday, first I’d like to introduce you to my favorite president, and apparently a distant relative on my mother’s side: James Buchanan.

Here are a few fun facts about Buchanan; you can go to wikipedia to learn more.

• Buchanan was the president whom immediately preceded Lincoln. His failure to prevent the Civil War by allowing states to concede is considered the single worst failure of a president. He is considered by most historians to be one of the worst presidents in history.

• Since he was a Northern Democrat who sympathized with Southern slave-owners, he earned himself the derogatory term of “doughface.” This term was used to describe politicians whom could be molded or shaped like dough.

• Buchanan was the first and so far, only bachelor president. His relationship with Senator William Rufus King whom he lived with for 15 years before the White House, prompt many to believe that Buchanan was gay. Many documents in relation to this relationship were destroyed, but others also indicate his questionable behavior with many of his male secretaries.

He single-handedly allowed the country to descend into civil war because he was too lazy and conflicted to act against the states that wanted to go on having slaves do all their work for them, and garnered a nickname that is quite offensive as a politician, but as a GAY man must have been absolutely devastating. Well Great-Great-Great-Great Uncle Buchanan, I guess some things do run in the family.

Who’s your favorite President?

Meet Blair!

Happy Monday every one and welcome to another fun-filled week on Justin Plus One. To get started, I'd like to say a quick thank you to stand-up superstar Adam Lehman for hopping in and blogging with me last week.

But we are only nostalgic here for so long. Out with the old, and in with the new.

And so let's hop a plane from Astoria, NY where Adam lives and take it all the way to... Astoria, NY, where our next co-blogger also lives. (Come on folks, it's a recession... use your damn feet!)

Everyone, say hallo to Blair Bryant Nichols. A writer. A blogger. A lover, not a fighter. When he's not lighting up a room with his wit and charm, he's lighting the room on fire because the people there didn't appreciate his wit and charm.

My Name:
Blair Bryant Nichols

My Location:
Astoria, NY is where I sleep…usually

My Site/ Sites:
www.homo-neurotic.com
www.everybodydoesit2.blogspot.com

What I might post about:
Sex, pop culture, myself, stuff I like, stuff I don’t like

What I love:
My pillow shaped like a dog, diet coke, Bud Lite, Power Hour, The Wheel, Jeopardy, grilled cheese, llamas, Pandora, and lots of other important stuff

What I hate:
Losers, lightweights, and leprechauns

My Last Word:
“I am the ice sculpture the party melts around.”

Signs of the Apocalypse 11: John McCain-a-licious?

In my next door (yes it's really next door, ain't I The Luckiest!) Baskin' Robbins I came across this little wonder. Looks like while Barack Obama won the presidency, John McCain won the Baskin Robbins Ice Cream war... because there was no Obama ice cream to be found!

I also love that "Straight Talk Crunch" has "chocolate coins" (Baskin, you making jokes here?) and "candy red states". Well, I guess that means you get less candy this year than you did four years ago!

Sucks that it's so close to "French Vanilla" as we know that John preferred his "Freedom Vanilla" ice cream.

Okay, and this leaves one question: what was Barack's ice cream named. No, wait, don't google it. I'm more interested in making up some... like:

"Yes We Caramel"

or

"Barack-y Road"?

Okay... I'll stop before y'all start flinging produce at me!

xoJR

My Fuzzy Valentine

Okay, this is just cool. It's a Web site that me and my company came up with, called My Fuzzy Valentine. The idea is simple - just keep on squeezing the heart. It'll give you V-Day themed videos, images and Web sites...

and 1 in 40 visitors wins a free box of chocolates.

And beyond the free chocolates - the fuzzy valentine is just so FUCKING CUTE. Really... it's totally adorable.

So check it out at My Fuzzy Valentine. And tell your friends about it too.

xo

Shameless plug

Tonight I'm hosting my monthly comedy show "The Brew HAHA" in the East Village at 8pm. It's a solid line-up, and I promise you that even though the show is FREE, you'll laugh your buns off. The line-up features Jenny Rubin (from this), Robin Cloud (from that), and Roger Hailes (cute & funny straight guy).

Bar on A / 170 Ave A @ 11th Street / 8pm

I'm unveiling a bunch of new jokes tonight, so I think I'll dedicate the rest of this posting to opening up the mind of a comedian. Often times I'm out with people and something happens - either someone tells a story, or someone falls - and people always say: "You should use that in your act." Usually I'll smile politely and say "yeah I'll see what I can work out of it."

More often than not, though, there's nothing really for me to develop. When someone tells a long, rambling story and then ends with the phrase "oh, I guess you had to be there" I'm secretly glad I wasn't. That's not how a comic's brain works.

We're always looking at the world around us and wondering why things are the way they are. When a premise strikes us as funny, we play the situation over in our mind... Why is this funny? Is there another way to flip this around in a humourous way? If this is funny to me, how do I translate the idea to make an audience laugh as well.

Sometimes, you fail miserably. But, the more you try, the more you're able to question the world with a humor filter.

For example, I was recently watching the press conference with the NTSB regarding the "Miracle on the Hudson." One of the reporters asked a simple question that has modified into a new bit for me that I love to enjoy. The reporter asked: "Could you tell us if there were any dogs or cats stowed on board the plane??"

The comedian in me immediately acted like Scooby Doo. What kind of reporter is this? And since when did Cat Fancy start covering breaking news?

I then developed the idea of sending a Cat Fancy reporter all over the world to cover other breaking news stories... the inauguration and the situation between Isreal and Hammas became prime targets. The latter is what worked best for me, so I send the Cat Fancy reporter to other press conferences as well.

The joke didn't spawn over night, but it took time for me to think about each word and what I wanted to convey. It isn't set in stone either, and I'm going to continue to work on it until I can sit back and say "this is as perfect as I can get it."

So, if you're brave enough, please venture over to BAR ON A tonight at 8pm and you can see for yourself if all of my hard work paid off.

And now for something COMPLETELY AWKWARD

Did you see Joaquin Phoenix's recent interview on the Letterman Show? I didn't. But I did today, thanks to my film industry bud, Rob.

And, in the immortal words of Homer Simpson, Joaquin "Is doped up or dying or something!"

Seriously. I can't tell if Joaquin is fucking around and having a good time, or if he's some oddly anti-social human who's fucked up on pain meds or crack or god knows what.

Watch for yourself. And stay til the end... it only builds in awkwardness as you go through the interview.

Justin Plus Fun: Crazy 'bout Coraline

Every once in a while I see a movie or a show that totally tears me apart, drives me crazy, and invades my thoughts. The latest example of this is Coraline, a movie which every single one of you must see. Like, now. Right this second. Seriously, don't waste another minute. GO!

So what have I done already? Well, I've been to the Coraline web site where I made my own button-eyed photo:

I've already downloaded the entire spooky album, and fallen head-over-heels for a 30-second song (or as a friend pointed out, a "jingle"). Let me tell you something - it sucks being addicted to something that short. You can't put it on repeat or you'll literally go insane. WHY COULDN'T THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS MAKE AN EXTENDED VERSION?

Either way, here's the spooky YouTube clip of "Other Father" singing his song about Coraline:



Oh, and you KNOW I'm super excited about the upcoming off-bway Coraline musical, with music written by The Magnetic Fields!

In case you're living in a hole and have no idea as to what Coraline is, below are some of the fawning reviews, including a NY Times Critics Pick, bitch! And the HD trailer as well as some of their brilliant web ads.

My next move will be to find Coraline at an IMAX 3D theater... because a standard 3D theater just didn't cut the cake.

The Trailer


Bobinski Ad #1


Bobinski Ad 2


A word from Neil Gaiman


And, of course, the fawning reviews of Coraline.

Facebook

If I have to read 25 more facts about another boring person I'm going to start pushing random strangers into traffic. Here's a random fact... you're not that interesting.

Also, there is a new trend of writing 26 facts ABOUT 26 of your friends online. Ugh, when will the spam stop.

If I get pimp slapped, beaned with a snowball, rick rolled, high fived, or poked one more time, I might have to start writing graffiti on people's wall!

So far there are two people that I've dated, both conveniently named Eric, who slowly became friends with my friends on the site. Most of the time they met once, twice, three times a lady... but now that both situations have fizzled out we're left with 15 mutual friends in common. Why? Without me there's nothing linking them together. This is all because many Facebookers are in a rush to add that one extra person to their online social circle to impress the rest of the people they don't really know in the first place. It's as if having 436 friends is less desirable than 437.

As much as I'm over the overshare, you log into the site and find a jem like this, and everything seems okay.

It's time to order up a Sully!

Youtube isn't an easy way out!

I wanna share some videos I came across from my friends in Paris. Most people have never heard of Vitas in the US, so watch and see how insanely high this Russian can sing.



And then, you have to have to have to watch Taiwan Vitas!!!!!!!!! I want to be his friend!



I played this and a pack of wild dogs are outside my window!

When Bloggers Attack!: Pepsi Logo Gets It Hard

After today's dead soda post, I felt that I needed to share this image with you.

I am NOT a fan of the new Pepsi branding.

Frankly, I think their bottles look like penises.


I think their no-nonsense, practically empty labeling is stark and lifeless.

And I think that their new tagline "Every Generation Refreshes the World" makes no sense, and sounds like something pulled from a list of forty possibilities created by an intern that even I wouldn't hire.

Alas... all my words can only do so much. You need someone who's visually inclined to take a swing at Pepsi. And Lawrence Yang did just that...

So they recently plastered the Powell BART station in San Francisco with Pepsi ads. Just big posters that say "POP", "HOPE", "SODA", "JOY", etc. All flaunting Pepsi's new lopsided logo.

And every time I see the logo, I can't help imagining a big belly button in the middle... So I thought I would share my vision with you all.

I Am... Clancy Pendergast

Much like Beyoncé has her diva alter-ego, Clancy makes an appearance a few times a year after I've had a drink or two or a baker's dozen. He's outgoing, full of sloppy speech, and a tease. He'll gladly heckle strangers on the street and make friends with random people at the bar. He's inquisitive and a little out of touch from reality. But, more often than not, he's a lot of fun.

Scene: 7th Ave and Christoper Street... Three friends hail a cab to take Clancy to a safe house nearby, when Clancy jumps in the front seat by himself. The cabbie is on his hands free device talking.

Cabbie:
You guys are riding with him, too?

Friends:
Yeah, but we're dropping him off first and then going somewhere else.

Cabbie:
Okay. (starts to mumble into cell)

Clancy (to Cabbie):
How are you?

Cabbie:
(After hesitation) Fine

Clancy:
Having a good night?

Cabbie:
Yeah.

Clancy:
It's my birthday!

Friend from backseat:
Hey, how you feelin' up there?

Clancy:
(After a beat, to cabbie) Why won't you talk to me?

Backseat:
Do you want to get some water before we get there?

At this moment, Clancy feels shunned by the cabbie's lack of attention. He looks to his left and on the seat is a little console with a cup holder, pocket, and storage compartment. Curious, he opens it.

Cabbie:
Please don't go in there!

Clancy:
(Whispered) What's in there???? Secrets???


For me Clancy came out again this past weekend at my friend's housewarming party. He did the Single Ladies dance (twice), heckled someone he didn't even know, fell over many times, had an awkward moment meeting a guy he only talked to online face-to-face for the first time, and forgot entire portions of the night until Facebook showed me what trouble he got into. I spent time apologizing for Clancy's actions, but fuck it. Clancy comes out once every fiscal quarter just to make sure my friends have stories to talk about. Without him, there would be no reminiscing or the use of the phrase... "remember that time when you..."

Who is your Clancy Pendergast? What is your best Clancy moment?

Alas, Poor Soda, I Knew It Well

Crystal Clear Pepsi. Slice. OK (from coca cola). Coke II. Life Savers.

What do all of these names have in common? They are the titles of fallen carbonated beverages. Sodas that didn't make the cut, and ended up on the bubbling room floor.

I mean, we remember some of them, surely. Who can forget the gigantic ad campaign Pepsi underwent for their transparent bubbly treat?



But there are far more failed sodas than you may even remember. Recall Pepsi Blue? What about Josta? Or the odd overseas versions of Pepsi?

Alright, this one may be cheating a little bit. Yes, these flavors did exist, but you could fill pages upon pages full with weird variants of any soda. Particularly Coke and Pepsi, which have had numerous flavor variations, many of which were only available overseas or for limited times. For example, did you know there was a Pepsi Ice Cucumber? Other odd examples include Pepsi Twist Mojito, Pepsi White (with yogurt flavoring), Pepsi Holiday Spice, and Pepsi Carnival. So why single out these two?

In the end, there's all these soda sob stories and a ton more at A Tribute to Fallen Sodas. One of the greatest compilations of carbonation I've ever seen.

Be sure to check it out.

Pure Brilliance

No commentary necessary... enjoy the amazingness:

David after the Dentist (original)



Chad after the Dentist (adaptation)

Musings from my travel journal

Below is a excerpt from my travel journal when I spent two months in Paris last spring. My friend gave me a book called "The Artist's Way" that featured many exercises for uncovering and re-igniting creative energies. One exercise asked me to sit back and observe people and comment on what happens without editing. Below you'll find my thoughts.

le 1 avril 2008

At the Louvre

-A group of tourists pose with a momument... pretending to "hold" it up.
-A group of classmates were being rowdy, when one gave the other a "ball tag"
-Note to tourists... fanny packs aren't discrete.
-The black people here have a darker complexion than the black people back in the states.
-Gay or European? Here I can't tell. This guy has glasses, coiffed hair, trendy shoes and I still have no idea.
-The guy that was "ball tagged" is still reeling on the ground.
-Woman has a backpack, heavy jacket, and walking poles... didn't realize there were trails near the Louvre.

I.M Pei's famed pyramids paint the scene for these people. Take a snapshot and they exist in the same space at the same time; but, in a week or month, they will scatter themselves all over the world. As the sun begins to set on some of their lives I realize they only have a few spare moments left to sit back and appreciate views like this. To my left I see a baby of two or three years. While the sun in his life has just started to rise, he won't even remember these events until his parents show him pictures of their trip to Paris. In the background, he'll see the people I see now.

Those scattered souls also captured random strangers in their pictures. In a lifetime we serve as the background for hundreds, if not thousands, of photos, but more often than not we're unaware of the moment. We randomly find ourselves scattered through other peoples scrapbooks, memories, and stories.

SNICK-stalgia

Oh sometimes I miss being a kid. Sure, I love going out on a Saturday night, bar hopping, and forgetting my name as I crash into bed still in my party clothes. But sometimes I just pine for the simpler times... when a Saturday night was spent in front of the den television.

My parents would buy my brother and I dessert and McDonalds, we'd sit indian-style on the shag rug, and watch SNICK - the Saturday night line up on Nickelodeon.

Does SNICK still exist? I don't know. And I also don't know how many format changes it underwent. But I DO know the original lineup, replicated here with the help of YouTube.

8PM - Clarissa Explains it All


8:30PM - Roundhouse!


9PM - Ren and Stimpy


9:30PM - Are You Afraid of the Dark?



What's even better is that most of these shows are ON YOUTUBE. Oh man, maybe I won't go out this Saturday... I'll just sit in bed with my laptop hooked up to my TV and go back to days gone by.

Nah, just kidding. I've got a party to go to.

I secretly wanna go to Japan

Guess it isn't much of a secret anymore! I've already travelled to Europe for a few months and can feel the tingles building in me for another extended stay overseas... factoring in this shitty economy, it almost seems like the perfect time to just CTRL ALT DEL for a few months (or Force Quit for you Mac fags). I secretly want to go to Japan, so I was uber-excited to see the video from a previous post for a Geisha girl to learn English.

I want to share a fav learning English video of mine as well. I know these girls have been posted before with the "SPARE ME MY LIFE" clip (that was featured on VH1), but I really find the scene/dance featured below to really speak to me.... and plus, not too many people know of its existance!



First of, diahhreah is a ridiculously hard word to spell. Secondly, this bitch must have some serious diahrea if she needs an ambulance!!!!! Really? An ambulance!??! Screw the people with heart attacks or strokes... she had a bad case of diarreah!!!!

Below you'll also find a video of the Pepto Bismol commercials... aside from the fact that these people are doing the diarrhea Macaraena, I find it entertaining! But, which dance do you like better? The Japanese girls or the PB peeps?

Nanerpuss Scares Me

I am speechless. Ask my friends and enemies... this never, ever happens. But when my friend (and next week's Plus One) Blair sent me a link to the new Denny's commercial, starring Nanerpuss - I just didn't know what to do.

I certainly don't want pancakes. Now I'm afraid that anything I receive from a griddle may very well have been straddled by the result of an orgy between a plantain, a crab, a marionette, and a bunch of really cracked out advertising folks.

Watch in horror. And then go get yourself some french toast. It's the only safe bet.