Monday, December 31, 2007

Wait! I'm not ready for this

I'm just barely accustomed to 2007, and now it's almost 2008? Holy smokes. Whatever you do tonight, hope you have fun and feel happy and please be safe. I don't want to see your face when I do a flckr search of "drunk people" (which results in some very funny photos, but some of them depict what must be rock-bottom, which is actually quite sad).

Happy New Year!

Saturday, December 22, 2007

The Gift

Every once in a while, my husband will volunteer to do the grocery shopping. He thinks he's doing me a favor, but really it's a big pain in the ass. When he does the shopping, I have to make an inordinately detailed list, field 7 calls during the shopping time (I am not even exaggerating) and then he comes home with lots of wrong stuff, along with a super-pack of hot dogs and a gallon of mayo. Dude. We have a ton of people coming over for Christmas, and I need the right supplies. His grocery shopping abilities are far from acceptable, but today I didn't even care because along with the $5 package of moldy blueberries and cheap toilet paper, he brought me this:


Mmmmm, yes. Does the man know how to please his woman or what? This is something that I would never, ever buy for myself (dignity, you know) but was thrilled to accept as a peace offering. Looking at it, I felt like Nicole Richie in front of a corndog: I wanted to devour it and then barf it right back out. So I did devour it, and what you are going to be getting is the barfing, but in a very figurative way.

First, the cover. Many people would say that Heidi, in a wedding dress (not her own; she hadn't yet bought one according to the interview) looks sad. No. She is wearing the expression of "Goddamn it. Lauren was right. ALL OF YOU WERE RIGHT. I am so tired." The inside photo:


Oh, there's Spencer looking all vulnerable and Heidi, still in her wedding dress, turned slightly away from Spencer, still wearing her "How could I have been so fucking wrong" expression. Who ARE these people?! And why are they (allegedly) revealing every single detail of their broken engagement to the public at large? Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy it, but why are they doing it? Another staged photo of Heidi with the exact same expression, only now she's holding a picture of them together:


Ew. How much more desperate and fame-hungry could these people be? The interview is nothing new, just a bunch of "you'll have to watch the show" and blah blah blah about how they had different ideas about the wedding but are still together as boyfriend/girlfriend. Spencer's an ass, we all know it, let's move on (you too, Heidi).

Giada De Laurentiis is having a baby. Congrats, Giada! I hate to say it, but it will give me pleasure to see you put on a few pounds. Eat, girl. Don't hold back.

Look who needs a little lesson from Decorno:


At least she doesn't have a whale tail.

And finally, I think that watching this show would be a more effective form of torture than waterboarding:


Look at poor little Elmo's eyes. Jesus, Ty. Chill.

There is an article about Tony Parker and Eva Longoria, but I'm not really interested in them. If I had to say something, though, I'd say that things don't look good for Tony.

That's it. Have a lovely holiday break. I'm off to the grocery store.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Been Tagged


I was tagged by the lovely Pink Wallpaper. I could post the rules but will not. I am not passing this on because most of my blogging friends are uppity bitches (that's why I love them) and would ignore it, thereby shaming me. But I think Pink Wallpaper and her blog are fantastic (Stacy and Clinton aren't coming for you anytime soon; you're way too cute), so I'm happy to oblige and provide 7 weird/random facts about myself.

1. I talked my way backstage at a Marky Mark concert (circa Good Vibrations, 1992) and he rapped my name. Oh yes he did.

2. When Bob Guiney was The Bachelor, I not only bought his CD, but I sat in the car and ripped it open with my teeth (I only recently found the CD in our tv console thingy, and I disposed of it).

3. I have never been to NYC. Talk about shame. I am working to remedy this.

4. I am always, always cold. My thermostat is set at 69 and I am typing this in my winter coat right now.

5. I am a total freaky crazy college basketball fan, and have sweaty palms and a stutter for most of March. Only a few people in my real life know this, and the rest hear of it but don't believe it because I am such a priss. Swear to God, I have been known to cry when my team loses in the Big Dance.

6. No one in my real life knows that I blog except for my husband, and I had to tell him because he thought I had an online boyfriend. Little does he know that I have online girlfriends.

7. I once peed my pants in public because I was laughing so hard. And no, I was not drunk, I was pregnant and I saw someone get popped in the head with a tennis ball. It doesn't sound funny, but believe me, it was.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Domino?


Uh, hi. Did you happen to send me a package yesterday? A bunch of wrapping paper in a tube with the return address of Conde Nast? There wasn't a note or anything, and I was just wondering what the big occasion was. Is it a gift for all of the good press I do about you? Whatever the reason, thanks.

By the way, would you deliver a message to Lucky from me? I received this letter recently begging me to come back. It was quite pathetic really:

Kiss my arse. That's my answer.

Looking forward to your next issue, Domino, and if you didn't send me the wrapping paper, please let me know. I may have to obtain a restraining order against Lucky. Thanks.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Hello Katherine!


You are SO BEAUTIFUL! I mean it. This cover stopped me dead in my tracks, although I didn't recognize you and in fact initially thought you were Charlize Theron. Personally, I prefer your natural look (a la Knocked Up) because you are so fresh and young and pretty--you don't need all that make-up. Still, this cover is a knock-out (and fyi, the double suicide story promised on the cover is disturbing yet fascinating; read it here).

I'll get to the point, Kath. Do you need a new manager? Because I am available. Here is a sample of the advice I would be offering.

1. You are a celebrity chameleon. It's not only the cover of Vanity Fair, but the whole photo shoot. Here you are looking like young Kim Basinger:

and then young Michelle Pfeiffer:


and here, very Scarlett Johansson-y:


And call me crazy, but I see a smidge of Jessica Simpson here, minus the large bosom and fake tan:


You are virtually unrecognizable in all of these photos. Let's get you a look! Uber-glam is fab and all, but it's been done. And it's not you! You seem so down-to-earth (especially when you were defending your bff TR Knight during that whole Isaiah Washington debacle), and I know that you don't take yourself too seriously, because no one who stars in a Judd Apatow movie can. Natural, Katherine. And recognizable. Let's look into it.

2. Stop smoking. This is you, isn't it young lady?

If you keep smoking (and you want to stay in the biz), you will need a bit of plastic surgery to erase the signs of premature aging, and then you risk ending up looking like this:

and nobody wants that.

All right, Katherine. That's it. Call me if you're interested. I'm kind of busy waging a war against Rachael Ray, so if I don't answer the phone, just leave a message. Love ya.

Thanks to Vanity Fair for all of the chameleon photos.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Party Tip

Are you planning to attend a holiday party next weekend? Maybe it will be a boring suburban party where everyone will talk about how gifted their kids are. Maybe it will be an awkward "we are here with a group of people who all seem to be best friends and have no interest in talking to us" party. Maybe it will be an actual spectacular party with funny and smart friends. It doesn't matter, because I know something you can bring that will make the boring and awkward parties fun and the fun parties even better:


That's right. JELLO SHOTS. You walk in the door with some red and green jello shots and people will think you are one cool mother-f-er. You are The One Who Brought the Jello Shots. You brought the drink (jiggly substance) that makes people feel young, that makes people cheer and laugh, that makes people LOOSEN UP. There's no downside to jello shots.* In fact, when someone (ahem) starts blasting Kanye at 11pm, people who are in their late 30s and have never heard of Kanye will lose their minds with happiness. They will laugh and laugh and dance in awesome ways that only the drunk can manage. And when you go home that night with a smile on your face, you will say to your date "now that was a fun party."


*Unless you are: the designated driver, a recovering alcoholic, at an office party, at a childrens' party, with your parents or grandparents, on-call at the hospital, allergic to jello and/or vokda, underage, flying the airplane later that night, feeling like you might have a stomach bug, etc.


THE BASIC JELLO SHOT RECIPE

Ingredients:

1 small box (3 oz. package) of jello – any flavor

1 cup of boiling water

1 cup of vodka, chilled

Small paper or plastic cups

Place jello mix into a bowl or pitcher; make sure it can withstand boiling water. Add boiling water, and stir well until the jello is dissolved. Allow it to cool for a few minutes. Add the vodka and stir. Pour into small cups. Place the cups on a tray in the refrigerator, chill for several hours.

Tips:
1) I know that in college, people made these with Everclear. If you even have Everclear in your bar, then you are probably crazy and/or in college. Don't use Everclear for God's sake.
2) Put the jello shots in Dixie cups and guests can tear and slurp. For a higher class of jello shot, use the 1 oz plastic shot glasses they sell at Party America. In this case, you will need toothpicks so that people can go around the edges and release the jello.

3) If you aren't sure your host will be thrilled with jello shots, call her to ask if you may bring them. If she doesn't say "hell yeah!" then you may want to come down with a nasty cold.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Cease and Desist


It has already been established that Rachael Ray is everywhere, but now she's crossed the line. She's on my On Demand cable menu at unpredictable times (yet all of the time), and I find this highly intrusive. So I've been researching my legal options, and let's just say she'd better lawyer-up for SGM v. Rachael Ray.

I am quite confident of my victory as the Supreme Court has already dealt with this issue definitively:
. . . the broadcast media have established a uniquely pervasive presence in the lives of all Americans. Patently offensive, indecent material [including unusually annoying voices, stupid jargon and ill-fitting shirts] presented over the airwaves confronts the citizen, not only in public, but also in the privacy of the home, where the individual's right to be left alone plainly outweighs the First Amendment rights of an intruder. Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728. Because the broadcast audience is constantly tuning in and out, prior warnings cannot completely protect the listener or viewer from unexpected program content. To say that one may avoid further offense by turning off the radio [or tv] when he hears [or sees Rachael Ray] . . . is like saying that the remedy for an assault is to run away after the first blow. One may hang up on an indecent phone call, but that option does not give the caller a constitutional immunity or avoid a harm that has already taken place.


FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 736 (1978), the bold and the brackets are mine but really, it's only a matter of time before the Supreme Court adopts my words as its own.

You have struck the first blow, RR and I am not running away, oh no. I would rather bury my face in Britney's dirty laundry than hear your voice or see your flailing arms in my home (and that's really saying something). It's ON, Mrs. Asshat. Have your fancy legal team call me. I'll be waiting.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Catharsis


My dear benefactress Decorno recently wrote a post on gift-wrapping/gift giving and how she loves to give gifts that she herself would like to get. Right on, sister; anyone can give a Starbuck's gift card. Anyhow, the comments for this post were also entertaining and enlightening, Mamacita's in particular. She wrote about these red pants(!) that that her aunt wants for Christmas and how she forced herself to buy them, but that she couldn't talk about it on her blog because her uncle reads it (hope your uncle doesn't read this blog, Mamacita). She provided a link to said pants, and they do not look at all like the ones pictured above. I'm glad she was able to get it out via Decorno's comments section because I thought it was really funny and I am a happier person for having read it.

This time of year, we are often forced to be around wacko relatives/co-workers and alcohol, and excellent stories result. I myself love a juicy "my mother-in-law is a psycho!" story, or even a simple "my sister-in-law had better not bring that hateful jello salad to dinner this year." So, if you have some good stories to tell or mild complaining to do but are unable to do it on your own blog, you just write me at scentedglossymagazines@gmail.com and I will post it here, and you can remain anonymous or not. Let's just get it out (Jennifer Aniston, this includes you. I saw on some tabloid cover that you were spending the holidays with Brad's parents--I'm sure that's totally true, and I would love to get the dirt on that man-stealer Angelina).

photo from luckymag.com

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Too bad

I saw these little customizable soap dishes by Paloma's Nest on Another Shade of Grey and have been thinking about them for days:


The possibilities! And only for $10.50! I've been thinking of all of the funny little inside jokes I could put on them for some close friends and really, I've been cracking myself up. I went online to order some tonight and much to my chagrin, they are SOLD OUT. It's probably for the best because I was planning to send them to my favorite celebs as well, and that could have been expensive. Oh well. Maybe for Valentine's Day. Here is a list of my potential recipients and the message:

Amy Winehouse: Good for you! (because she's not looking so fresh these days, and I'd like to encourage her occasional use of the soap)

Jessica Simpson: Don't wash your face with soap or else your face will get dry and wrinkly and then you'll never find a man (hope all of that fits) OR Why'd you break up with Nick Lachey, dumbass?

Rachael Ray : Property of Mrs. Asshat

Paris Hilton: (something along the lines of "all of the soap in the world wouldn't clean your skanky ass" but I'd need to work on the wording a bit more. There's also a "don't drop the soap" joke that I could use but that would be too obvious)

Lindsay Lohan: Don't snort the soap

Ryan Reynolds: Marry me (Romantic, no? And maybe he'd send a dish back that said "yes!" Mmmmm. But then I'd have to send a dish back that said "psyche!" because I am already married. I am also considering sending an "I love you" dish to Vince Vaughn if he loses a little weight and stops looking so ashen.)

Heidi Montag: Wash up, you don't know where Spencer's been OR You will never feel clean again after betraying your best friend

To whom would you send a customizable soap dish?

Just had to add Brilliant Asylum's contribution in the comments section because I'm still smiling about it:


Dave Grohl: Never use this. I like you dirty.

Friday, December 7, 2007

Details

1. Why does Michael Jackson have to be such a straight-up perv? I want to buy She's Out of My Life, Rock with You and Don't Stop Til you Get Enough in the worst way because they are some of the best songs in the history of the world, but I cannot give money in good conscience to MJ. Did anyone else have this poster in her room in the mid-80s?:


Tragic, the whole thing. Not on the scale of Darfur or AIDS, but still.

2. Great December/January 2007 issue for Domino (or is it domino?)! Enjoyed it very much. But am I the only one who would not enjoy chomping on a leafy celery stalk at a fancy cocktail party (p. 76)? Add hot wings and I'm there with bells (and sweats) on, but celery and dip alone? I just don't see it. Also, the throw on p. 44 is not available. Why, Domino?

3. I hope this whole "Britney is pregnant" story really is false, not only for the obvious reason that this little lady doesn't need another youngin', but because it would be a spectacularly awesome joke on In Touch, who has already spent two covers insisting that it's true. Bravo, girl! I think this should be Britney's new PR strategy: have friends/employees/"reliable sources" make up a bunch of shit that isn't true, vaguely confirm it, wait for the tabloids to come out and then prove it to be ridiculously false. Revenge, Brit! Yours for the taking.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Customer Service Awards


Where I shop is greatly determined by customer service, but you already know that because I bet you're the same way. If the vaccuum is running at 8:30 pm on a weeknight and all of the sales associates are gossiping in the back, I'm not going to buy there (unless the goods are super-cute and there is a massive sale). Unfortunately, great service is hard to find, especially at the retail giants, so here are two stories to hearten your soul during these frenzied shopping days.

About a year ago I was searching for a casual coat of the short black puffy variety. I ended up ordering this one from Lands' End, hoping for the best but knowing that it would be too boxy and matronly on me and that I would end up returning it. After I received the coat and verified its boxy-ness and matronly-ness, I immediately put it back in its box and placed it in my closet, where it lived for a little over 11 months (in the meantime, I ordered this from Bluefly, toasty and slim-fitting).

This weekend, I finally decided to get rid of it via donation. But then I saw the packing slip that said that I could return at any time. Oh really? I called to see if they meant it. I dialed the number and popped some food in my big mouth because I knew that I would have at least 3 minutes of automation. But then a human answered right off the bat! After a near-choking incident, I asked her if I could return after 11 months. She said "no problem." Really! I returned it to Sears as she instructed and all my money came back. Bravo to you, Lands' End, for accommodating lazy but well-meaning returners.

The second award goes to Nordstrom. This happened a year ago, but it is the pinnacle of customer service in my book, so I must mention it here. I went in searching for black peep-toe pumps. The sales guy, who was fabulously gay and a shopping girl's dream, really knew his stuff. He showed me all of the black pumps, and I was kind of lukewarm on them, and that's when he read my mind and showed me what I really came to buy: red patent pumps. Before I committed to anything, he asked me how I liked the Frye boots that I was wearing. "Love them," I said. Because I do! I would have never tried them on because they look so masculine, but my friend Charlene convinced me and once they were on my feet. . . they are so undeniably cool. I digress. Anyhow, my fancypants shoe guy told me that they were "not wearing well" for just being a year old and that we should "change them out." Apparently the salt that melts snow can also discolor boots? And then he ran back and fetched me a brand new pair of boots, gratis. That's right. I bought the pumps, which incidentally weren't even that expensive (picture these in a deep ruby red):



and I still love them and wear them to this day. But that's not all--the sales guy calls 2 days later, to see how they were working out for me.

There is a bit of a sad ending in that I have not seen or heard from that shoe guy since. Was it all a dream? Sometimes I think he was fired for giving me the new pair of expensivo boots. Other times I think he moved on to Neiman's. The bottom line, however, is that the shopping experience was excellent even without the free boots because the guy knew shoes and acted like he gave a crap about me, his customer.

Good work Lands' End and Nordstrom; I am your customer for life.