Oh I forgot that today is my sister's birthday so say something nice to her here and I'll pass the message along but I bet you won't.

Tweakend

I guess I missed the Black Party

Let's see, what did I do this weekend oh that's right NOTHING!

Friday night I was all primed for a cozy night in reading and cleaning because all of my friends had other plans, but then I got dead tired and was sleeping by 9 because I am a geriatric.

I also saw Horton Hears a Who, which is about an elephant and his speck. It's pretty good. There's also a little fuzzy yellow thing named Katie, who has some problems.

Anyway then I had dinner with The Architect on Saturday and we went to a place I had been before except this time we ordered a bottle of wine that was probably the best bottle of wine ever made. Ok backstory: First of all, we had two waiters: Hot Waiter and Less Hot Waiter. Hot Waiter brought us a bottle of wine but when we smelled it, it was like nail polish remover, and when we tasted it, it was like nail polish remover, and Hot Waiter agreed. Enter Less Hot Waiter who decided to tell us there was nothing wrong with it like he knew anything. He became my enemy and officially "Less Hot" and we got a new bottle anyway, which ended up being this delicious perfect spicy cherry wine.

I don't have pics from the weekend yet, so here's something else. That's my building on the left.

Hot Waiter was mostly hot because he had good hair that I wanted. The best part about the wine is that when we got the check, we weren't charged for it. Anyway, at about 10 I found out that The Architect is a geriatric too because we both got really tired and went home to bed so we could wake up in time for the WORST HANGOVER HEADACHES EVER!

Then we played with his brand new dual shower head, which was really WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW! I'm only telling you about that because The Architect's mom reads my blog now because apparently he couldn't think of any other way to show her a picture of me. Yeah, now you know he is an Advanced Genius Level Architect. AGLA. Agla Khan.

Then we had brunch with shitty coffee and went on a walk and I came home to "put up my shelves" which is code for "watch TV for 5 hours." THE END

Rubber Boobs

i bought you a house
i bought you a car
but the thing that i bought that
you like most by far
are your rubber boobs
and i hate them

your boobs were just B's
but they knew how to please
all bouncy and smooshy and pert
but god knows why
you wanted to try
to get boobs that were rigid and hurt

you told me they'd help you
recapture your youth
but they've only helped me
to chip a tooth

they are ugly and
they are yucky
so i want to say
"No fucky fucky!"

when your hooters were cuter i wanted you pooter
but now those huge knockers are only cock blockers

they're bags of jelly
that perch on your belly
and now that you have them
i'd rather watch telly
than play around with your
firm
immobile
eternally perky
most unsavory
completely inanimate
gross
rubber
boobs

Crappiest Blog Entry in History

Yesterday was Yelp Gay Night VI at the remarkably unremarkable G-Lounge and it was fun but I have no pictures because I forgot my camera but my hair was awful anyway so I don't care.

There was this kid there who was really cute until you realize he has no personality or sense of humor. A bunch of us were in a minivan cab later and he was next to me in the back and he made some reference to Aaliyah that didn't make any sense and basically shut everybody up because nobody knew what he was talking about and in the middle of the awkward silence I said "I liked her in that vampire movie" IRONCALLY and everyone got it and laughed but he said to me like "Good, everyone thought I was a freak but now they think you are too so it's not so bad" because he missed the point entirely, the point being that it was a jab at him and that I am a cooler and he is a drooler.

At least I think everyone got it, maybe there were really laughing at me so let me announce that I'VE NEVER SEEN THAT SHITTY MOVIE. Anyway the point is that later apparently my friend touched him in the bathroom because my friend's a slutbag and that's why I like him. I can say that because he reads my blog now.

Anyway that story was more funny last night when I remembered it better and was drinking, so I'm not going to tell any more of it. Look, I took more pictures with my cat in them. She got an Easter basket from my mom with nothing for me inside.

Also here's a MySpace-style picture of my butt and lower abdomen for Bagel. Don't worry, this doesn't count as the backlit sexy one you requested, I'm having trouble working the lighting for that one. I'll work it out.

This pic can also be found on my Flickr, Facebook, and hopefully one day on gay.com so I can get all the boys.

I bought a new iPod today, so I celebrated at home and it looked like this:

Anyway I know I'm a walking cliche, but that's ACTUALLY ME and it took me about 2 hours to make this crappy imitation so you'd better appreciate it and leave me LOTS OF COMMENTS ABOUT HOW AWESOME I AM AT PHOTOSHOP AND ALSO ART AND IF YOU DON'T I WILL KNOCK DOWN YOUR HOUSE!

Ok I am drunk and I am going to bed now bye.

Inauguration

Hi guys! What have I been doing? Oh, not a lot. Little laundry. Little picture-taking. Little gaining 3 pounds. Oh and I went to a really shitty party last weekend for which the Architect owes me dinner and $90. It would be $100 but I stole his underwear.

The most important thing that happened at work this week was that Timothy passed away. My more loyal fans will remember Timothy Pirhana from last year. He was my dear friend and Lord of the Staple Graveyard, but he died in the field last week while removing a staple.

Actually, he exploded in my hand and it hurt like a bitch. Anyway, I had to make last-minute funeral arrangements and inaugurate his heir.

Timothy Pirhana's Final Hour

Anyway, he's dead now boo hoo I NOW PRESENT HIS HEIR the Mistress of Terror and Lady of the Staple Graveyard: Imogene Olivia Pirhana!

Hail to the Queen!

Isn't she sassy!?! Olivia Pirhana is a vixen!

Beneath those smouldering, heavily-lidded eyes lies a mysterious soul. Olivia Pirhana is a woman of many tastes, but she especially enjoys pain, vodka martinis, and smoking cigarettes with one of those Cruella DeVil holders. She also gets her eyebrows threaded at Pinky's on 6th Ave., that's why they're a little bit crooked.

Anyway, I hope you will all make her welcome. But watch your fingers!

Here is Olivia guarding the Staple Graveyard

That's pretty much all I've been up to. Well, that and taking pictures with my new camera. It's pretty cool. I take a lot of pictures of myself because I am self-absorbed, so I will show you them later.

Bad Hair Day: The Photoessay

I'm being lazy lately on the writing front, so here's another photoessay. This one's name I call "Bad Hair Day 101." It is 12 steps for how to create a bad hair day and feel stupid all day until your coworker says "Oh your hair looks good today" and then you feel ok for 5 minutes until you see a mirror and realize she's just crazy.

Incidentally, I also really like the second picture down.

Moral of the photostory: If you can't look good, smell ok.

Here's a picture of my cat.

Trix

hey, boy
let's get surreal

this Cap'n Crunch wants a piece
of your pirate booty

i'll jam it in
shred your wheat
and tickle your fruity pebble
til I cherrio-oh-OH!

then i'll reach around
loop your froot
and apple jack til you honey nut

Yelp Party Photos (5)

Here are pictures from the Yelp.com Elite event at 49 Grove, which was the first event I took the new boy to, but he hates all the pictures of him from the night, so I'm going to keep them off here except they're on my Flickr. I'm just gonna post one of him. This is the world's shortest photo essay. It starts with this great picture of me and a friend of mine and has the same ending as Cloverfield.

Yeah, we wear fucking nametags WANNA MAKE SOMETHING OF IT!?!

Here is our host who wears a nametag too.

Here is the sexy new boy about to catch some bugs.

Ok that's all the pictures I'm gonna show because you probably don't give a shit anyway. I gotta shower.

GODZILLA ATTACKS TOKYO!!@!#!!!!21

So I took a break from video game coma to go to an actual social event last night, from which I am totes hungover and cursing my miserable existence at this desk. I'll tell you about the party later when I can put up SEXY PICTURES OF THE ARCHITECT but right now they're stuck on my camera.

Oh, wait, I gotta go bye!

The Boy with the Camel Coat

I was standing on the platform today waiting for the subway when I realized something I haven't had occasion to think.... ever. I was part of an in crowd!

Ok, maybe "realize" is the wrong word and I should be saying "made up something I haven't had occasion to think because it's really not true" but go away. Anyway, I realized that my car is the most attractive subway car on the 6 line.

Ok, it started because for the second time in a row, someone I saw by my apartment and thought "She is fashionable" ended up 10 minutes later near where I always wait for the train, on the far south end of the platform. I noticed this particular woman because she had one of those scarves that's made of a bunch of fuzzy balls all strung together like a necklace of slaughtered tribbles. I like those.

Anyway, I noticed how there are always attractive people around me during my morning commute because we are the South Car Popular Clique! It's just like high school again, only I'm not in the band. There was even this Asian nerd who tried to be part of us and even push on before this pretty girl but everyone was all "Uh-UH, not EVEN" and he got shoved into a corner to play with his electronics.

So, on the train I naturally had someone to look at: a brooding, punk rock boy with dark hair and a hoodie. He was a welcome addition to the group, if not your typical UES fare, but he soon sat down out of my line of sight, so I had to start daydreaming about my REAL south car lust object, the Boy in the Camel Coat.

The Boy in the Camel Coat is a Type B professional (my favorite, btw) with perfect skin, large features, and thick, dark hair. He always looks really put together, and he keeps to himself. I know everyone on the subway keeps to themselves, but he has a quality of more to-himselfness that I like. He is shy, and I can't tell if he likes girls or boys, but it is probably girls. I look at him a lot because he appeals to me on many levels.

I'm seeing somebody right now (The Architect; more on that and a better blog-nickname later) and one morning last week or the week before he slept over and we went to the subway together and I dragged him all the way down to the south car because I refuse to ride any other and the Boy in the Camel Coat was there and I was ripped in half by having to split my attention! Obvs I like my boy on MORE levels than the Boy in the Camel Coat, but they are different levels and I didn't want the Boy in the Camel Coat to think I didn't love him anymore because my love will never die and also I wanted to tell The Architect to look at the Boy in the Camel Coat so we could enjoy him together, but I couldn't do that without the Boy in the Camel Coat hearing me so it was the WORST!

Every now and then I want to follow the Boy in the Camel Coat when he transfers to the 4/5 at Grand Central, but I have been told that is weird and counts as stalking. I'm pretty sure taking a picture of him on the train would be weird too, so I'm too scared to do it, but if I ever get up the courage, I'll be sure to show you all. For now, I'll keep this entry unadorned in honor of his ellusive appeal.

Oh wait, this guy too.

Eat your heart out, Xtube!

Here I am!

Anyway my coworker on maternity leave came in Monday and gave my other coworker two big boxes of those Luna Bars "nutrition bars for women" that I call Breast Bars because I'm convinced if I eat enough, they'll make me grow breasts and that's what I'm trying to do. They're really gross.

Thanks, princess_of_llyr!

We have Cookies 'n Cream and Chai Tea flavors. Why a company would make a nutrition bar chai-flavored is something you can figure out on your own. All I know is that it tastes nothing like chai and everything like nothing.

I'm pretty sure Clif Bars are Luna Bars for men, but they can't say that because you know how women get when men try to have something of their own.

Clif Bars are disgusting too. Cardboard isn't supposed to have such an afterdistastefulness, and it makes me mad because I'm determined to get through those Luna Bars if it kills me. GYAH! Ok, I just wanted to get that off my chest... y'know, to make room for the breasts.

What else can we talk about? Oh I know! I was sick on Monday so I stayed home all day playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl. I know it's been a while since I've mentioned it on here, but I'm pretty much a total loser. Anyway I'm the best at that game there ever was except my friend Kev who kicks my ass a lot when we play online.

Yes. I now play video games with people online but you can't make TOO much fun of me because I'm not ruining my marriage by masquerading as a brooding half-elf druid for 18 hours a day and flirting with fat 14-year-old boys because they chose a female avatar. And I don't play fucking Second Life either.

When you play SSBB online you can write your own taunts, which is pretty fun. There's something of a dirty thrill in making Princess Toadstool dance around yelling "Touch my butt!"

Isn't it great that I can disappear from the Internet for over a week and the entire update consists of "I played video games and ate girl food"? Oh, and I didn't get hit on again unless you count this guy in my DREAMS:

I Got Hit On (Hopefully a more regular segment)

I just got hit on at Starbucks because I am a sexy Adonis-breath and you are not.

He was alright looking, but I was more alright looking and he knew it and I could tell he was staring while we were waiting for our drinks, and he was kind of inching over and building up courage. It was totally adorable in a zero self-confidence, odd shoes kinda way. He finally leaned over and said "Why is it that we're the only people who have ordered drinks in the last 5 minutes, yet they're making stuff that's not ours and it just sitting there?"

From Flickr.

Typical flirting technique: Stock Conversations. Whining about service at Starbucks counts as stock because it requies absolutely no wit to observe. It's as creative as putting clip art on a homemade birthday card and just as effective, but I gave this guy a pass on account of being on a timeframe and because I hadn't given him any eye contact beyond the initial 'Oh You Like Me So I Will Smile So You Keep Looking Because I Feel Fat Today' glance.

Anyway, I was all "I think it's part of the Starbucks Experience" and he was all "Huh huh, yeah." And then he said "I don't mean to be impertinent--" (then don't say anything impertinent) "--but I was noticing that those pants look really good on you.'

Then it was my turn to be Awkward Loser Boy because I said "Yeah. Thanks. They're jeans."

Yeah, great. They're jeans. Stupid. But it was hard! Usually I return a compliment with a compliment, but I couldn't think of anything to say! I didn't like any of his clothes. Plaid! What do you want? Nice 5-o'clock shadow?

But whatever my drink came and I said "Oh, yippie, I beat you!" and then I took it and left with a "See ya!" which translated to "Haha, you didn't move fast enough to give me your number which is fine because I didn't want it bye!"

Getting hit on in public is my favorite thing even if it's from people I'm not remotely into like today. It's well-lit, nobody's drunk, people usually aren't trolling the Starbucks line in a horny way.... You're able to say "Someone finds me attractve" without any of that second-guessing that comes from being in a bar. So I don't feel fat anymore. I feel pretty.

Anyway, I'm going back tomorrow at the same time and maybe my Starbucks will be free!

More Food Talk

Oh my God I'm starving like a lonely baby right now! Thanks a lot, Fat Sunday, you put the devil back inside and now I will binge eat all night until I run out of food at home and then I will binge eat cat food! Nom nom nom I get spacy and stupid when I get hungry I feel like a lolcat right now.

I can has feedbag?!?

Ok in way other news I watched Super Size Me for the first time last week, and am I the only one who was NOT blown away by the results of his experiment? Like ok, he threw up one time which was totally weird because I've eaten more McD's than that in one sitting and been fine, right, but then he gained a few pounds, which is all OBVIOUSLY and BIG DEAL and the liver thing was pretty bizarre, but who says that's a symptom across the board? Pretty much all he did was whine about how tired and impotent he was, but everyone already knows that gross food does that to you.

Seduction

Basically people who eat that crap every day aren't going to change because either a) they don't feel like that so why would they or b) they do feel like that but clearly they haven't stopped eating it yet so why would somebody saying "You feel gross" make them?

There was nothing new to learn for the rest of us who are smart enough to know that McDonald's is only A Sometimes Food.

To conclude, the doc was entertaining but the guy was kinda whiny (but in a funny way, so I liked him) and stretching for stuff to complain about so basically all the movie did was make me hungry for a Big Mac so I ate one.

Moo and Oink

Yesterday I performed an experiment in excess. I chose a sin (one of the seven) and embodied it to the fullest extent imaginable. The sin: Sloth. The embodiment: Bloblike.

I woke up at 9:30 with a splitting headache that I pretty much owe to David Bowie. After an hour of laying in bed pretending the world didn't exist (an art I perfected on Saturday when I spent about six waking hours cuddled up in a bed), I got up and walked a full 9 steps to my couch, dragging my comforter behind me like that Peanuts kid who always drags his filthy blanket around.

When I finally arrived huffing and puffing to the internet couch, I looked at my little Google calendar and saw NOTHING! This was me:

Thanks, nataliedee.com!

So I indulged in my favorite pasttime ever: playing the Sims and watching Charmed for 12 straight hours. It's really exhausting and a great workout. You can tell because at 10:30 that night I was exhausted and went to bed and today I woke up totally sore in my right leg and along my right oblique from all the work I had to do grabbing the remote to skip the title sequences. What with selecting episodes and occasionally switching discs, I may have burned as many as 20 calories! Eat your heart out, South Beach Diet!

Speaking of calories, clearly I could not prepare food on a day such as this so I ordered in an omelette with ham on the side in the morning and a huge bowl of chicken curry with rice in the evening and I ate everything on the couch and got rice all over me. This was me:

Thanks again, nataliedee.com!

In conclusion, my couch has a butt dent the size of Alaska and pretty soon I'll be washing myself with a rag on a stick.