Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death

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Friday, April 11, 2008
Pure, unadulterated malignity

In my lameness at not joining my comrades, I trolled down Seamus O’blogroll to catch up, and if y’all aren’t reading Skot from Izzle Pfaff!, a pox on you because he’s freakin’ BRILLIANT. Immerse yourself in the beauty of his prose, will ya?

Some months ago, Budweiser had the astonishingly shitty idea of teaming up with Clamato to release this . . . beverage that they called “Chelada,” a perversion of a perfectly fine Southwest/Mexican drink tradition of leavening shitty lager with tomato juice, lime and salt in order to create a refreshing summer drink (I swear this is true). And when it came out, J. managed to sneak a can of it into my fridge as a joke; when I discovered the offending thing, I swore to him that I would make him drink it.

This was the night. I pulled out the giant can--24 deathless ounces--and squinted apprehensively at the label, which, yes, was still trumpeting the good sense of this collison of Budweiser and Clamato. With a coroner’s clinical eye, I examined the “nutritional information” boxlet, and encountered this terrifying fragment: “Contains shellfish/clams.” I clouted J. about the head and torso and wept at our fate.

I poured the stuff into a couple of glasses; pinkish and wan, it looked like poorly oxygenated blood, or perhaps a pleural effusion. It bore virtually no head whatsoever, the carbonation presumably overcome by the angry, imprisoned shellfish/clam zombies. Even pouring it was dispiriting, like watching suicides falling from tall buildings. We smelled our samples and were not encouraged: it was a hellishly chemical lime nose that seemed to grouchily throw punches at the only other olfactory note, which was a sickly tomatoesque sweetness. Finally, we took a sip.

This was possibly as close to the American tradition of St. Patrick’s Day that we got that evening. For one brief horrifying moment, J. and I drank an alcoholic beverage that was, for all intents and purposes, like drinking pure, unadulterated malignity. For a mere moment, we were as one with all of those douchebags out there in all of those Stygian Irish bars, drinking the undrinkable.

Pleural effusion has now entered my lexicon for the next time I have some sort of creeping lung death. Bet on it.

Posted by Broad3:14 AM
Friday, January 25, 2008
“They won’t take me! They won’t breeeeaaaaak meeeeeeee!”

I ask you: Is there anything better than Journey’s “Escape?” Ok, don’t answer that unless you could totally see yourself getting past the cheese factor and hitting Steve Perry’s upper range like I am this very second. Scott Malchus featured it on his “Mix 6” of songs with great drummers last week, and it’s like I’m right back in 6th grade, when I bought the same-named album for “Stone in Love.” ("Open Arms?” Pssssshhhht. That was for pussies. I was a hardass in middle school.) Good stuff.

I wish, though, that these guys wouldn’t mix their choices all together in one giant mp3; with just 857.1 megs left on my new iPod, I’m loathe to throw huge files on it. Does anyone know how to break up a giant mp3, perhaps?

Posted by Broad9:03 PM
Monday, January 21, 2008
Hey! No peeking!

All you Neanderpundit people sneaking over here without saying anything. What’s up with the lurking? I mean, I KNOW y’all ain’t shy ...

Posted by Broad11:56 PM
Thursday, August 09, 2007
I always thought the last name was Spanish

My Pinoy Name is Ma Estrella Olinda Jun-Jun Quilong-quilong.
Take The Filipino Name Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey‘s Name Generator Generator.

Posted by Broad10:06 PM
Monday, January 29, 2007
A-listing on the z-list, babies

Check this out: I’ve been invited as a permanent poster over at Cat Raggedy, joining the ranks of Cat Rags and col, another hot piece of ass. Got my own log-in and everything. So now, I can lay on the couch and think about all the things I should be writing about for two blogs instead of one. Excellent.

Seriously, go over, if for nothing else than to see the sexy design mel whipped up for her over the weekend. Bitch gots an eye, no question.

Posted by Broad8:59 PM
Monday, November 13, 2006
I can never tell what I sound like

What American accent do you have?
Your Result: Philadelphia

Your accent is as Philadelphian as a cheesesteak!  If you’re not from Philadelphia, then you’re from someplace near there like south Jersey, Baltimore, or Wilmington.  if you’ve ever journeyed to some far off place where people don’t know that Philly has an accent, someone may have thought you talked a little weird even though they didn’t have a clue what accent it was they heard.

The Midland
The South
The Inland North
The Northeast
The West
North Central
What American accent do you have?
Take More Quizzes

[Ganked from Ogger]
Posted by Broad7:11 AM
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Israeli-Palestinian Conflict Muffins

I’ve added another pretend celebrity boyfriend to my menagerie, and his name is Liam. Observe:


Add to My Profile | More Videos

Discover more about him @ here.

Posted by Broad5:56 PM
Thursday, September 28, 2006
It’s really not as bad as all this. Really.

As if on cue to brighten my existential despair, the mail delivered my mix CD from my pretend Innernet boyfriend today. Gotta say, it’s much mellower than I pictured coming from the dude who endured ghost-writing Paris Hilton’s dog’s biography, but really, really good. (I, too, love Yello now.) Below, I give you the lyrics to “Make It Rain,” by Tom Waits—not as a peek into the window of my utterly defeated, foul mood, but because man, have you heard this dude’s voice? I mean, I know everyone has, but seriously. I forgot how ... odd it is. Seriously. Good song, though.

Took all my money
And my best friend
You know the story
Here it comes again
I have no pride
I have no shame
You gotta make it rain
Make it rain

Since you’re gone
Deep inside it hurts
I’m just another sad guest
On this dark earth

I want to believe
In the mercy of the world again
Make it rain, make it rain

The night’s too quiet
Stretched out alone
I need the whip of thunder
And the wind’s dark moan

I’m not Able, I’m just Cain
Open up the heavens
Make it rain

I’m close to heaven
Crushed at the gate
They sharpen their knives
On my mistakes

What she done, you can’t give it a name
You gotta make it rain
Make it rain, yeah

(insanely good and right on guitar solo)

Without her love
Without your kiss
Hell can’t burn me
More than this
I’m burning with all this pain
Put out the fire
Make it rain

I’m born to trouble
I’m born to fate
Inside a promise
I can’t escape
It’s the same old world
But nothing looks the same
Make it rain

Posted by Broad12:22 AM
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Thanks, Zoot

Now I got Weird Al’s “White and Nerdy” stuck in my head. And I never even heard “Catch Me Ridin’ Dirty” before that.

Took the day off to take part in a market research study for Vox (another thing Zoot digs, so it’s all about Zoot today, it seems) and then took Mother to her post-op appointment for her second cataract surgery (which is fine, she’s fine, etc.). Gorged ourselves on faux Mexican, and then I came home to await my small brother’s arrival with the DVD player I bought off him. (Check it OUT, Tara! I’ve made it to the LATE ‘90s in terms of my viewing technology now. Woooooo!) He’s fine, if a little bummed right now because someone he considered a friend is being an asshole. It’s not like he’s losing tons of sleep over it, but still, it’s annoying. And he burned me his latest mix CD—he’s quite the mixer, much more talented with music than I ever was—so I need to pop that in the ol’ playa and see what he mixed up this time.

Since I’ve been shamelessly ripping offinspired by topics Heather’s recently covered, I thought I might bring another one over here to perhaps draw out the lurkers (because those stats I see in my cPanel everyday canNOT be all pr0n spammers). Last week when she was pimping out her friend’s book on good blog topics, she asked her readers what they consider dating dealbreakers. So I pose the question to you: What qualities/habits are so offensive to you in another person that you would run from the room screaming, figuratively or literally?

[UPDATED TO ADD: For our purposes, cheaters and beaters are going to be classified as “understood,” since they should be, anyway, and I know few people who would be like, “Yeah! I WANT my man/woman to cheat on/beat on me!"]

Posted by Broad3:12 AM
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Look what Poppy’s sprog is getting

thanks to mac the knitting goddess: sweater_de_la_sprog.jpg

You know, because little ladies need to think about appearances and shtuff. Besides, with all the stuff she got at her mom’s baby shower, it looks like Pink barfed in her closet.

Posted by Broad6:52 PM
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Lonesome jubilee

Amalah (The Queen of Everything) has a really good discussion on depression going on over at her crib today: Lookit. Especially good is that no trolls have come by to piss up the rope, though now that I’ve said something, betcha someone will be a dumbass. At any rate, it’s worth a look.

Posted by Broad1:42 AM
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Got nothin’ today

so I direct you over to New York comic Banterist, who takes a cheeky stab at the latest journalism fuck-up: Lookit.

The Zionists laughing at Gallagher is my favie.

Posted by Broad2:51 AM
Friday, July 28, 2006
I think I may have done this once …
You should have sex at the library

You are somewhat voyeuristic, and are the intellectual type. The library offers some seclusion (at least in the periodical section) and you never know what hottie is there with the same idea as you.

Take this quiz at

[Ganked from L'il Sheri]
Posted by Broad1:51 AM
Sunday, July 09, 2006
And I thought there was just a lot of hot air
What Your Soul Really Looks Like
You are a warm hearted and open minded person. It's easy for you to forgive and forget.

You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. Your feet may be on the ground, but you're head is in the clouds.

You believe that people see you for how you are, not how you look. But deep down, you know that's not exactly true.

Your near future is likely to be filled with great successes and accomplishments. You just need to figure out how to get there.

For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

[Ganked from L'il Sheri]
Posted by Broad4:21 PM
Monday, June 26, 2006
Love the skin yer in
So, how about these new digs, eh? Let's give it up for mel over at m2 and 30-o for coming up with the new look with virutally no idea from me as to how it should look. She do good work, she do.

More later on popping my Pride-Parade cherry, when I'm not buried in oil outlooks and doll parades.
Posted by Broad4:36 PM
Page 1 of 10 pages  1 2 3 >  Last »
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

/> Wanna make a bunch of money doing what you're doing right 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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