Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Thursday, March 11, 2004
That’s some balls … or something …
Today, the New York Post published a picture of a woman jumping to her death off a 24-story building.

You know, I could understand publishing the pictures of people jumping out of the Twin Towers, because I'd like to think that they did what they did out of hope that someone somehow would save them. But to capture someone's pain like that and broadcast it to the world? That's not even art, for Chrissake.

(Link courtesy of Romenesko.)
Posted by Broad4:25 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Random observation not fueled by coffee
As I was trying to get myself up and off the couch and head into the shower, I caught a segment on "GMA" that claims weddings have become a big thing in Iraq. Which is all right, I guess, but in the wedding they showed, the dude was all smiling and partying up, while the woman looked as if she was about to hit the gas chamber.
Posted by Broad12:06 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
My point, exactly …
Except it's ensconced in a beautifully written essay.

Link courtesy of the esteemed PB Curtis.
Posted by Broad11:56 PM • (0) Trackbacks
He’s a rollin’ stone.
One of the downsides of not stealing cable: having to watch whatever's on Fox because it's the only channel you get with any regular clarity. Anyone catch the premiere of "Cracking Up?" Wow, that was fucked up. Reminded me of that Chris Elliott debacle of many years ago -- not the show's theme as much as the feeling I got from it, which is that the show is a trainwreck, but yet I'll watch, anyway, because I can't (read: have no choice but to not) look away.

So today I attended the wake of a colleague's mom. It was deep in the heart of Gary's West Side, where the east-west streets aren't named after dead presidents. And as I passed by Baker Street, the same-named song by Jerry Rafferty crept into my head, and I started thinking of the one guy.
Posted by Broad2:18 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
Understatement of the year
Posted by Broad6:19 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Monday, March 08, 2004
Ding-dong! The witch is moved!
Blind item: Who's the colleague I can't stand that has NOW BEEN MOVED TO A DIFFERENT AREA THAT I DON'T COVER!?!?! Go me! It's my birfday!
Posted by Broad10:35 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Walking that fine line
As if my normal anxieties about money and feeding myself haven't been weighing on me enough, they've been furthered by the harrowing tale of Dooce, who, if you're not reading her, you need to, because she's freakin' hilarious. But long story short, she got canned from her job because of her personal blog.
Posted by Broad6:15 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Financial disaster averted
I'm going to have to cash in what's left of my 403 to do it, though, but that was ineveitable, anyway, since as a free-lancer I'm going to have to pay all my taxes this year. But I'll deal, because it also means I can pay off my computer, that stupid piece-of-shit Capital One card that keeps ass-raping me with fees, and get some other things done, such as new glasses and a long-overdue-and-not-of-the-fun-variety exam of my nether regions. (I know, the excitement doesn't seem to stop over here in NWI.) And Greta was nice enough to let me pay half of the rent money she lent me (contingent upon getting the 403 money, natch) so that I might catch up on the rest of the bills. And get myself a new pair of jammies from Target, which are just too damn cute for words (white with round kitty heads sucking on a feather, the words "bad kitty" underneath all the kitty heads. Rowr).
Posted by Broad5:33 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Somebody likes me! Eeeee!
I was doing my evening surfing, and I clicked on over to Angry Pete, checking to see what's up. And guess what I found (she said in a sing-song-y voice)!?!? I have been added to his blog roll! That's right -- ME! On a blog roll! And I'm quite sure he's my first! Boing, boing boing, yo! (swoon)

You've made my night, Pete. Shpanks, man.
Posted by Broad3:08 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Saturday, March 06, 2004
As if it couldn’t get any worse …
Well, I got my freakin' check today -- AT ABOUT $165 LESS THAN I CALCULATED. What the fuck is going on, here!?!?! The only thing that might save my poor ass is the fact that I had a charge of $193.67 that I disputed with the bank.

I'm so freakin' irritated right now, I'm going to take a nap. Maybe then I'll have the strength to talk about the stupid wedding shower I had to suffer through today.
Posted by Broad8:19 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Friday, March 05, 2004
F$*#%& stupid Post Office
Most days, I love being a free-lancer -- being able to work in jammies, cuddling with the cats, religiously watching ABC Daytime (don't have the slipper action going like those Moxie broads, but that's because, despite the insane shoe fetish, I'm barefoot as much as possible). But you know when I DON'T love being a free-lancer? When the freakin' Post Office is late with my damn money.
Posted by Broad11:28 PM • (0) Trackbacks
So THAT’S where she got that.
I just saw "Bring It On" for the first time. Good flick. For some reason, I've been fixating on where Pixel Sphinx got the phrase, "The poo, take a whiff," and now I know ... or maybe I don't. But Kirsten Dunst says it in the movie, anyway. And of course, I can do every last one of the stunts performed, too.

Two assignments tomorrow -- one at 8 a.m. and the other at 11:30, so that means I have to get up at the buttcrack of dawn. At least they'll have coffee.
Posted by Broad3:08 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Can’t. Stop. Eating. Chalupas.
My God, how am I ever supposed to lose 50 pounds in a month if the damn Club Chalupas won't go away? They're soooo goooood.
Posted by Broad7:27 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Another quiet day
The stories I started working on didn't pan out, so I spent another day relaxing and cuddling with the boys, who've been exceptionally affectionate the past couple days. At least today wasn't fraught with anxiety like Sunday was, so that's always a good thing.
Posted by Broad3:21 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
No accounting for taste
I don't get it. How does a man with a head as long my freakin' calf get any kind of play, let alone with hot, rich babes who grace Page 6? Or is there something about dick size being in direct proportion with the size of one's melon that I missed? Because there's no way in hell that guy could've gotten play without packin' some heat.

[UPDATE: No sooner did I post this when Wonkette posted proof. No, I do NOT buy it that he's packing THAT much heat.]
Posted by Broad2:59 PM • (0) Trackbacks
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It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...

The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:

Save the Net Now

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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].

Caterina said: ARGH!!! Not to deny you your goddess-given right of reflections and wishing what might-have-beens, but this guy was straight up… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, guess who was most nasty about the charitable giving?  The frigging church.  My church and my mom’s… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, I’m not the only one I know.  I have friends who work at soup kitchens because they’re… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: As you know, I was a voyeur to the beginning of this, and I was loving your comment!  I have… ...[go].

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This explains that large bit of type at the top.

Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.


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