Mini-Vacation Movie/Sean Crespo Has No Prior Knowledge.

If you care to do so, click on this fun video to see our pal Sean's TWOP vlog, which is both a commentary on VH1's stable of reality show trash from its Flavor of Love, Rock of Love and I Love New York starring on a new competition show called I Love Money, AND, a living document of our recent Greenport winery trip! BOO YAH!

The Day The Popping Off Died: Bad Girl's Club II is no more.

I knew it would come to and end, I just didn't realize how empty I would feel inside without my Tanisha fix. There were times I got cross with her for being unfair & unreasonable but you know what, no one is perfect and I have to say she impressed me with her growth. I want the best for her, I truly do. This second season of Oxygen's smash The Bad Girl's Club was my special treat to myself and I enjoyed the bejeezus out of it.

Why would I waste my time, you ask? Reality shows are beneath us, says you? Well, put down your pipe and that leather bound tome of yours, and take a gander at this, Einstein. I defy you to tell me this show was not fucking riveting, rollicking comedy gold afer reading this excerpted entry from Tanisha's online blog, regarding the explosive BGC2 reunion special:


It was shocking that Lyric [who left the house after only 2 weeks and a lot of crappy Rasta-esque poetry and really, really lame raps as discussed by the always amazing Jezebel- Ed.] decided to verbally attack me. I was completely thrown off because first of all I never had a problem with her mal-nourished spaghetti string, broom stick bamboo a$$.

She left the house simply because her sorry a$$ was there for all the wrong damn reasons. I mean come on now. Who the hell is going to sign someone that has the same name as the words of a song? Lyric? Yeah right Melissa! Try using your real name you hating a$$ b*tch! What I want to know is How the f*ck am I jealous of your nasty stringy scrawny dirty filthy a$$? B*tch what the hell are you doing with yourself? Besides making home videos and hitting up your local karaoke clubs and posting them on you tube? You’re a hater and that's all you will ever be Beiotch!

When your a$$ left we left on good terms. I hugged your frail a$$ and said my good-byes and that was that. I even spoke to you over the phone once after that when your pathetic worthless waste of good life a$$ called crying on the phone talking about "I should have never left man. Damn". B*tch get f*cking real!

You call yourself a queen? A role model and a star? Hahaha! The joke’s on you. You didn't last two seconds on the Bad Girls Club, the Tyra show, or the reunion. You’re just a hating a$$ trick that can't get a record deal even if you slept with half of the record execs across the U.S. You make me sick because your wack and weak and so damn fake!

You knew you had to leave the house b*tch because there could only be one captain and that was me! Your a f*cking loser flat a$$ wanna be rapper b*tch! Keep hating because I will always be big and marvelous. And you...well I suggest you go "watch a Tyra".

The only reason why I didn't drop kick your sorry a$$ was because I know how the LAPD gets down in LA. Thank the heavens you good for nothing smut! **On another note it was cool seeing some of the old camera crews. I think that was the best part of all. To the bouncer who held me back: Lyric owes you her sorry a$$ life!**

Whoooo-weeee! Lyric does, indeed, need to fall back like "whoa"! I cackled like a plump, hateful hen throughout this reunion special and it left me wanting oh, so much more. All I know is, I am going to ask Tanisha to be my MySpace friend and if she says no, I may have to pop off this mortal coil.

Farewell, BGC2. Enjoy this final goodbye...a touching song tribute if ever there was one.

PS When you watch Oxygen's video clips for this show, the stupid mini-ad that comes on is for canker sores...say no more.

Scenic Greenport.

Had an amazing weekend away. I so rarely leave the city as, to me, being in New York is like one big crazy circus-vacation-dance party. But it's nearing (GASP!) 9 years that I've lived here and after an idyllic visit on the Island last summer courtesy of my friend Kloke (OK, OK it WAS the Hamptons, but I always felt creepy saying that out loud as if by so doing, I'd then immediately develop an Oompa-Loompa fake tan and get into an SUV and run over people) , I decided I wanted to make this summer of 2008 about escaping.















And so, after some impassioned Craig's List searching, a rental house was secured and pals were rounded up and driven/Jitney-ed/LIRR'd out for proper weekender visits. There was a hot tub, a Tiki Bar, stuffed jungle pets and a lot, and I do mean a LOT, of lighthouses. Also there was a life-sized Jar Jar Binks inflatable pool chair that really upset everyone. Too soon, Jar Jar. TOO SOON.















We went to some great wineries (I highly recommend both Castella di Borghese & Osprey's Dominion). One had an all breeds dog show taking place next to it, which was quite a sight. We drank 3-5 bottles of sparkling wine in an afternoon in a gazebo, rode bikes, watched Thank God It's Friday, Trading Places, April Fool's Day and Season One of Tim & Eric Awesome Show Great Job, grilled farm stand veggies, switched out the 8 smart-assy statement-stamped beer cozys ("cosy" or "koozy"- someone clarify for me please) that were purchased impulsively as host gifts, ate strawberry-rhubarb pie and bacon for breakfast, and attempted to play a mint copy of the NHL VHS Board Game that was found in a closet. And there were lots of naps.




































































All in all, one of the best weekends I've had in I don't know how long. Enjoy pictures (thanks for those, Alty) and feel bad for yourself that you didn't go, peasants.

Greg Gillis, I think I want to marry you.

I am so ready for summer and this weekend is the big kick off! A trip out of town is in the works and I am all a-wiggle with G-L-E-E!

This sums it all up, AND HOW!

Of A Different Feather.

My friend Carla has a cool mailing list called, Bird of the Day. You should sign up. Why? Because stuff like the excerpt below from today's mailer will come to your very own inbox every darned day. Thanks, Ms. Carla!


Contemplative Cockatoo.


















Contemplative Cockatoo works in an office all day surrounded by fellow workers that are somehow content with being locked in a windowless box and typing with their mangled carpal tunnel claws all day whilst their dreams whittle away.

Will Contemplative Cockatoo fly away and risk not having health insurance?

Or will he let his brain turn to slush and suffer the same fate full of
flat screen tvs, white picket fences, suvs and prime time television?

Too good.

The thing is, is this episode of Tim & Eric Nite Live is so uncomfortable, so honest, well-acted and so truly spot on it's blowing my mind. For anyone out there who has ever tried to produce & perform in their own comedy show, you will see yourself reflected in at least one of the people here. Let's hope it's not James Quall, however.

If you don't know who Tim & Eric are, you're really- as a comedian or a lover of comedy- doing yourself and the Unites States of America a disservice. Smart, subversive, creepy and fucking brilliant. I know I talk about them a lot on my blog and in person to any and all who will listen, but it's because seeing what they are doing is such an inspiration and I am just thrilled by it. They have a DVD out of their first season which I highly recommend. Do yourself the favor of picking it up, STAT.

And if you have some time, watch the follow up episode #12 of Nite Live which honestly...makes me just feel like I could go outside and get hit by a car and never get to live my comedy dreams because, I mean, why? How can it get better? I don't think it can. Pure genius.

Cat. Hat.

I love my cat. I don't give a fuck if you don't like it. And although I have accepted my crazy cat lady status, I have to say...it's never going to be this bad.

Thanks, WikiHow!

Hi, Pep Pep.

This is my master now. I worship thee.

The Kissing Booth: Final Three Shows Kick Off TONIGHT!

The Kissing Booth presents: Final Three Shows Kickoff!

WHERE: The Tank
WHEN: Friday April 25th, 2008
doors at 10:00 PM, show at 10:30 PM
COST: ABSOLUTELY FREE!
$3 Bud Light available all night, $4 wine

Brandy & Sara are nearing the two year anniversary of their show! That’s right, almost two years of nonsense, hi-jinx, lewd talk and overall drunken bumbling is nigh. After some careful consideration, the gals have decided to take a hiatus after they hit that mark- so come on down for the 1st of three final shows! That’s right- the countdown has begun! Come cram in some on-the-clock comedy!

With:


Brad Steuernagel!

Jay Bois!

Neil Statsny!

Rob Gordon!

Giulia Rozzi!

Videos from Oren Brimer/Pete Holmes/Matt McCarthy, Classy Comedy & Matt Ruby

…and more TBA!

Be there!


www.myspace.com/thekissingboothnyc

www.thetanknyc.org

Hey You Guys, I Played With The Ween!!!

I'm going to see Ween at McCarren Pool if it kills me. Also this movie makes me happy, and I do not care a fig if you say otherwise. Enjoy It's Pat!: The Movie.

Horsey Rides! Steppin' Out! Pop Off! Bring It Son!

One of the most traumatic moments of my life to date, was seeing a picture of someone I was in the process of having my heart broken by, beyond inebriated, riding a kiddie ride outside of a New York bodega. It was clear from this wacky photo that a night of drunken fun had taken place, and that this night the kind of shit-kicker that was worth posting photo proof of, and, sadly, that said night coincided with me not getting the usual phone call. Take it from me- when they don't call, they are up to something and there is just no other explanation. Life Lesson #1, folks.

Anyway, this was my first concrete clue that things were about to get straight up soul-crushing. And, oh, were they ever. But I forgive you, kiddie rides. You are but an innocent bystander in the world of drunk pranksters. You can't help that you were taken advantage of by a creep- or any creep, really. Not could I, in hindsight.

And so this clip from Bad Girls Club II was a welcome treat.

CLICK HERE FOR "Ride 'Em" SINCE THE OXYGEN WEB VIDEO EMBEDDER IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE

I don't have much time in my life to say, read the Penguin Classics Library or meditate. But watch a bunch of fun, wild, mouthy broads fighting all the day long?!? Oh, I do implore you to sign my ass up, kind sire!

And just for fun, here is a clip that also reminds me of my stated dealings with dopes of the male variety:

CLICK HERE FOR "Tanisha's Lament" SINCE THE OXYGEN WEB VIDEO EMBEDDER IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE

You tell 'em, Tanisha, you tiger!

This Time I Know It's For Real.

This Time I Know It's For Real from anya. on Vimeo.

It's been almost 2 years since Sara & I made our foray into the variety show world with our humble entry, The Kissing Booth. No, there is no actual kissing booth involved. Well, once there was, but it was for charity only and it got way out of hand. Enough said.

We didn't have any idea what we were doing- and still admittedly don't- but we knew we wanted to do something that made us happy. And we hoped that it would make people who came happy, too. As we begin to get to the end of the show's run, that's still the goal.

This video was commissioned for the very first Kissing Booth, ever. It was meant to be a segment where, we filmed live action creepy background videos-the type of which you see and howl with drunken laughter at when you are out at karaoke-and then performed them as the finale to our show. Sadly, the video was burned to a disk that would not play the opening night at the show, and which froze during it being played, never to move again. So no one really got to see the magic that night.

BUT! Here is in all its glory, and with the two year anniversary coming up, here's to hoping it may but yet have its day in the sun!

Thanks to Patrick, Bri and MT of Party Central USA and Jerry Miller. And, as always, Anya.

Songs What I Forgot: The Things We Do For Love, 10cc

Just such an amazing song. I'm amazed how this style of music was huge, then fell out of favor, and now is back in such a big way (albeit packaged differently, but still). I think it was always kick-ass. And then there's the fact that it's sung by 10cc, who if you don't know, you are dumb. Sorry but, you just are. And here is why.

Two members from this awesome band- Godley & Creme- were also responsible for concepting/directing the Police video for Wrapped Around Your Finger (yes, the one with all the candles), Herbie Hancock's upsettingly awesome video for Rockit, and when not directing MTV video megahits, they had 85's hit single Cry (a format later to be ripped off by mega-molester Michael Jackson). Not to be ignored, another 10cc member, Grahm Gouldman, sang the leads on the ONLY soundtrack that I may possibly love more than Xanadu- yes, it's true there is but ONE competitor in my heart for the affections of ELO (which is funny since people often compare both bands to the Beatles AND, Jeff Lynne produced Free As A Bird and Godley & Creme directed the video for Real Love- NERD ALERT). And that film would be 1980's Animalympics. I mean, listen to this. It STILL makes me bawl.

I am a nerd. Did I mention that? Oh. OK. Well I am one. Yep.

It Takes a Dump.

You and me both, sister.

Thunks as always to PostSecret.

And he was an anti-Semite, which is wack.

"The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing." - Walt Disney

I think he's an anti-Union, Jew-hatin' creep. But I do grudgingly concede that this is a great comment. Damn you, Walt Disney! DAMN YOU AND YOUR INSIGHT!

"The Dirty Buggers."

I am having a sick day at home, on the couch. I am loving my sick day. Except for the sick part. But here is what I am watching and I honestly cannot even tell you...you have to see it, to believe it. Enjoy these 3 segments of this series as found on YouTube. I highly recommend you watch them all when you have time just to hear the listing of the birds' names. Priceless. Check out How Clean Is Your House? on BBC America if you can! I love that Kim & Aggie.

Part One: CHARLEY BUBBLES BUM BUM BIRD!



Part Two: SLUGS!



Part Three: DRIED BIRD TURDS!

Puppy Vs. Robot!

I am mezmerized!

Come See The Kissing Booth This Friday!

The Kissing Booth is a monthly comedy showcase hosted by duo Brandy & Sara. Stand ups, sketch, songs, and more from NYC's premiere performers, always with a spectacularly drunken finale. If you can't make the show, drop in for the FREE late nite dance party that begins directly after- cheap booze all nite long. Pucker Up For Comedy!


The Kissing Booth presents: Hooray for Hollywood!

WHERE: The Tank
279 Church Street b/t Franklin & Leonard, TriBeCa
WHEN: Friday March 14th
doors at 9:30 PM, show at 10:00 PM
COST: $5
$3 Bud Light available all night, $4 wine

Brandy & Sara, inspired no doubt by last month's Oscars Party Hi-Jinx, are headed for the big time- that's right, Hollywood. But how you say? With the help of their spanking new agent, the very talented JJ BeFaurghten. Come be a part of their meteoric rise to fame at the hands of this maestro, and see some comedy superstar stylings from:

Catie Lazarus!

Eliot Glazer!

Jon Friedman!

Anthony DeVito!

PLUS: Photos by the actual ANYA GARRETT ( www.anyagarrett.com), a rival comedy duo, comedy's finest blogger, guest appearances by KATINA CORRAO, ROB GORDEN & SEAN CRESPO, and THE RETURN OF THE DRUNKEN SHITTY KARAOKE FINALE!!! Be there!

www.myspace.com/thekissingboothnyc
www.thetanknyc.org

Like Traffic & Weather.

If you look close, you may be able to find a very drunk myself & Matt Sears, my dream date for this 100 person only concert on the deck of the Ship Peking at the South Street Seaport. Seriously can everyone just worship the amazing songwriting stylings of Fountains of Wayne RIGHT NOW THIS MINUTE?!? Thanks for that.

Sean Crespo Has No Prior Knowledge: America's Next Top Model.

My pal Sean asked me to come act like a turd for his very funny vlog at Television Without Pity. And wouldn't you just know- I did! Also this is not a picture of me but it is what came up when I typed "stupid models" into Google Image! WACKY ALERT!!!

Anyways please click over and check it out, they don't have an embeddable player so you have to make a quick trip to the site but GODAMMIT I AM FUCKING WORTH IT YOU SELFISH, ARROGANT TOAD!!!!!!

Ewww. Gross.

Songs What I Forgot: You're The Biggest Part Of Me, Ambrosia

I have been on the phone all god-damned day for work and just now, when I got to the part where I was seriously about to SCREAM if I had to be on it for one more second and as I was on hold for yet another fucking 10 minutes, suddenly, this song came on on soothed the savage beast. This is AM Gold in its purest form and it makes me very, very happy and giddy and much less likely to tell the person on the other end of the phone to do as I say before I reach down their throat and punch them in the fucking heart. And hey, you can't hate an appearance by Merv Griffin, everyone's favorite elevator killer.

GO TO A BAR RIGHT NOW AND ORDER AN ABSOLUT VODKA.

I am no corporate whore. But when it comes to comedians who I respect to the utmost, I may or may not change my tune. Absolut Vodka, I will buy your god-damned product because you gave Zach Galifianakis money to do an ad for you, with the caveat that he got to do whatever he wanted. And then, there was magic. Well done.

If you do not like Tim & Eric, then your name is Porter and you are my mean old roommate.

Thanks to Jos for this.

It Breaks My Heart, So Hard.

Such is Ready For The Floor by UK folk-synth dance sensations Hot Chip. This song is so perfect in so many ways. When I hear it it makes me almost want to cry because it's such a chorus of pure joy, and fun and that one night you went out with your friends and got wasted to the perfect place where you were trashed but were in no danger of puking and you danced all night with the hottest tall guy ever who may or may not have been an Olympic volleyball player and then made out on the dance floor like you were on the deck a sinking ship and then you went to Del Taco, ate a shit-load of food with their dope green sauce on it, walked home and passed out in your awesome comfy bed- and woke up only mildly hung over because you drank a lot of Dr. Pepper before you went to sleep. And also you had an easily hidden but very much enjoyed hickey.

SERIOUSLY though, Why is it the Europeans can craft so many perfectly fearless shameless awesome anthems to getting out and just fucking dancing your ass off?! What is the hang up in America about this? Cut the yappin' and get to scratchin', people (ewwww, I admit I went too far there). I wonder if it's rooted in homophobia (re: ballet/dancing is for "fags"-sad, ignorant thinking that I hate to admit some people do), and/or some sort of puritanical distrust of anything remotely fun involving the human body, like some sort of slimy residue left over from from the early "settlers".

All I know is that when I watch this video and see that adorable scamp dancing his ass off in a 1/2 a Joker costume, I feel sad for everyone else who's missing out on this band and on that choice to go out and just shake a fucking tail-feather. Will someone please introduce me to a hot tall British man who has an unapologetic love of old school hip hip, 70's-early 90's r&b and new-wave dance magic? Because right about now, I think they are kind of like fabled unicorns in which I catch a glimpse of them out of the corner of my eye and then they're gone, galloping away with my palpitating heart.

Anyways you should go out and buy all the Hot Chip albums, right now.

**3 Things Learned The Hard Way**

Thanks to my homey, E-Ski for this one.

1. You Teach People How To Treat You.

If someone walks all over you and you say it's OK, they'll do it again and again. You're saying "I'm not worth it, you don't have to respect me." While I'd like to think everyone that I care for would return that adoration by being respectful of boundaries, the fact is that the world just doesn't work that way. It's not easy when you're someone who always wants everyone to "like" you as I once did, to my own detriment. It's VERY Hard to confront people when you want very much for things to always be smooth sailing. But once you start doing it, it gets a helluva lot easier to say "You know what, you're being a dick. Cut it out or take a hike." This goes as much for romantic relationships as with friendships, natch.

2. Never apologize for liking what you like.
I have loved the movie Xanadu since I saw it when I was 6 years old. It makes me happy. In a world full of lies, bullshit and evil it is one of a handful of things that just transports me to somewhere fun and safe and enchanting. Is it a god-damned Ingmar Bergman masterpiece? No. Does it feature the lead from the Warriors AND an Australian country-Western singer gone pop mainstream superstar on roller skates? Hell, yes. And that right there is, to me, priceless. For so long, I felt kind of bad about this- especially in New York, the land of film school refugees clad in black cargo pants, Adidas Sambas and sporting goatees, who all want to reference Kurosawa while subtly stroking the semi-hard boner they've once again given themselves under the table. You know what? I want that time back. I want that time I wasted being unfair to myself to try and "fit in" with a bunch of cretins BACK. Point being- don't waste yours not being yourself.

3. Being financially independent is very, very attractive.
Rich people who were born with $100 bills jammed up their assholes are not financially independent. People who settle into marriages and proclaim they're totally happy being "stay at home Moms/Dads"- unless they have a couple of years of savings in the bank- aren't, either. Being financially independent to me means simply that you live within your means and you know what's going on with your money at all times. Not obsessive- not checking what Jim Cramer said about stocks on your iPhone every 5 minutes. And not blowing through cash like a drunken lottery winner from an Alabama trailer park in the K-Mart. And while we're at it, not going out to bars and waiting around trying to get drinks bought for you. Add that to the list. Buying your own fucking drinks and having enough cash to do so- now that is something. How about buying a round for a really great group of pals, just because? Because that's the kind of shit people who are financially independent can do because they know what the hell is up. They know when to spend and when to save. They don't whine about having no money and then eat out every night and expect you to, too. Nope. They know when rent is due and don't go out on a spending spree right before, and they have a $1 hot dog when needed without complaint to make sure that bills are paid on time. It's not quite cheap- because they are not stingy per se. They are sensible. Just being in charge of your financial well-being is great. And letting other people do it for you or influence you, that is lame.

Where Are Your Manners?

Dear everyone,

It is just not nice, nor fair to take a hidden video of me lumbering around, squeaking thru yet another red-wine induced hangover. Shame on you.

Signed,

Me.

For Those Who Still Think It Exists.

Hard To Live In The City, Albert Hammond Jr. (Live)



New York, New York, Cat Power (Live)



New York, I Love You, LCD Soundsystem

#2: Use A Strategy For Happiness.

Today's entry in my new book obsession told me figure out what I wanted and then, develop a strategy to go after it. So here were my thoughts. Enjoy them in all their vapid splendor.

1. Put together an awesome outfit of muted charcoals and black, giving me plenty of leeway to prance about wearing my gold foil spike heels (which I may have ruined after Thanksgiving when I stepped in mud and demanded this be photographed as some sort of yuppie commentary on Williamsburg's condo explosion. I had had a lot to drink. Clearly.)



















2. Listen to 50% more Chromeo (always a mood enhancer- "Fancy Footwork" will change your whole day)



















3. Get my hair cut to morph into one that more closely resembles that of lovely Karen Elson (after all she managed to snag Jack White with it so it's obviously a winner).

Come On, Get Happy (dipshit).

In an effort to balance my hectic life I have decided it is now time for me to re-read a book I grabbed a few years back. It's called The 100 Simple Secrets of Happy People, by David Niven and I recall really enjoying it when I read it before. As I read each entry I think I will try to reflect on it in my blog, albeit probably in a really angry, mean way. I'm always true to myself, after all. THAT is a constant.

Today's entry was: Your Life Has Purpose & Meaning. Which, after initially reading, I scrawled simply, "What is my purpose?" I kind of want to pinch myself really hard right now, hard enough to leave bruise marks. And I'd also kind of like to know the answer. I know this, as of a few weeks ago it stopped being "to get really drunk and act like a jerk-face to the amusement of whoever happened to be close enough to hear my yammering".


What about you, dear readers? Do you know your purpose? Do tell.

Ain't Love A Kick?

My pal Alty featured a link to this heart-warming, delightful article on her blog and I had to share. Sometimes I am sad that I haven't met the right person to be my husband yet...and then I read this, and darned if it didn't fill me with hope. So for all you love birds out there, enjoy!

MOUNT CLEMENS, Michigan (AP) -- A man who killed and dismembered his wife was sentenced Thursday to serve at least 50 years behind bars by a judge who called his actions "demonic."

Stephen Grant choked his wife, Tara, to death, then cut up her corpse in a machine shop. After the killing, he tearfully told reporters he wasn't involved in her disappearance.

"Stephen Grant is evil personified," Prosecutor Eric Smith said.

Grant, on the advice of his lawyer, did not speak during the sentencing.

A jury found him guilty in December of second-degree murder. Prosecutors had sought a first-degree murder conviction, but the jury could not unanimously agree that Grant's actions were premeditated.

The defense was seeking a sentence of 15 to 25 years. But Macomb County Circuit Judge Diane Druzinski agreed with the prosecution recommendation of a sentence of 50 to 80 years for the killing.

The judge called Grant's actions "demonic, manipulative, barbaric and dishonest." Grant also received six to 10 years for mutilating the body, to run concurrently with the longer sentence.

Grant, 38, showed little emotion during the hearing, although he looked troubled as Alicia Standerfer, Tara Grant's sister, described how the couple's two young children are struggling with the loss of their mother at the hands of their father.

"He's so much of a coward, he doesn't even look me in the eye in the courtroom," Standerfer said afterward.

Grant contacted the Macomb County sheriff's department on February 14, 2007, and said he had not seen his 34-year-old wife, an operations manager for a large construction firm, since they argued February 9 about her frequent business trips overseas.

On March 2, after allowing deputies with a search warrant inside his home, Grant borrowed a friend's pickup truck and drove away. The deputies found Tara Grant's torso in a container in the garage.

Authorities picked up Grant's trail by tracking cell phone calls that led them to Wilderness State Park, more than 200 miles north. He was found hiding under a tree and wearing only a shirt, slacks and socks in 14-degree weather.

During the trial, a jury heard a graphic, three-hour recorded confession Grant gave while being treated for frostbite and hypothermia at a hospital. They also heard testimony from the Grants' nanny, who said she had sex with Grant the night before he strangled his wife.

Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. (except in my blog so suck it)

Songs What I Forgot: You Give Good Love, Whitney Houston.

This song is the jam. This song, which I have had on repeat since roughly 2:30 PM or so today, makes me want to leave my desk right now, report directly to a happy hour, shotgun 3-5 glasses of a reasonably priced pinot noir, and then slow dance up close and personal like with someone, maybe let's say, someone I work with who may or may not have a girlfriend. Our actions together could include a ratty old b&w photo booth in the, oh I don't know, the Lakeside Lounge and the results would ensure that by week's end, he DEFINITELY would not have a girlfriend. This is not to say he'd become my boyfriend. I'd be too hungover to listen to him whining about how he thought he may have made a mistake to offer any sympathy or even my couch since his ass was kicked out of their Park Slope co-op- because no one and I repeat, NO ONE is moving into the Barber household until he does so by being legally married to my ass. No thunks.

Instead I'd fix a glare on him, blow a plume of smoke in his face and say "What do you want me to do about it, cupcake?" in a sort of raspy, exhausted Faye Dunaway voice- one that sounded like a come-on and a death threat at once, coated in honey and edged with a razor-y rasp. And that would be that.

Thanks Whitney, and thank you alcohol. You make things work out so nicely.

This was rediscovered as a direct result of my friend Wendy Ho and a delightful tribute to her from a sexy, sassy gal named Jazzmun. I am a new forever fan and plan to drop in to Club Cobra on my next California sojurn. Fierce, fabulous and oh, so Whitney-riffic- check out that link for a rendition to remember.

Songs What I Forgot: Bad Boy, Miami Sound Machine

Wow. I mean, WOW.

My roommate Porter and I were discussing Miami Sound Machine the other night, do not ask me why (I was late for a wedding shower but could not resist the dissection of their first hit CD Primitive Love, which my Dad owned). And we both recalled this song gem with delight and fondness. It would be an understatement to say I absolutely used to LOVE this song. Surely, it was used in every mixed boys & girls dance class for the recital circa 1984, no? Because it sure as hell was in mine. "Bad" being the operative term.

Enjoy the alternate cast of "CATS", or, if the very suggestion of human adults clad in spandex and fake fur would cause you to have nightmares for the remainder of your earthly life, click here for an alternate take of the video (because one is NEVER enough when it comes to Gloria Estafan, people. GET IT RIGHT). Up to you.

Happy Valentine's Day!

An oldie but, a goodie!

Enjoy your day.

Also I am too lazy/busy/sick to write, sorry.

xoxoxo,

Me.

Honey's Bunnies @ The Kissing Booth [Uber NSFW]

Thanks to all our fella comedian friends who came out for this and horrified/delighted us.

Enjoy!

The Kissing Booth: TONIGHT!

The Kissing Booth presents: The Kissing Booth After, After-Dark

Friday, January 25th, 2008

THE TANK
279 Church Street between Franklin and White
Doors at 11:30pm

**Admission this month is FREE!
**Basement Dance Party to follow show with $3 Beers 'Til Dawn
**PLUS: FREE Shot if you arrive dressed in pajamas!

This month your hosts Brandy & Sara bring you an homage to Hugh Hefner's classic program Playboy After Dark, Kissing Booth style. Come be part of a hip, swinging bachelor-ette party, the kind of bash where guests drop in to chat, while cool people lounge in their swanky cocktail clothes exchanging bright ideas and being all jive. Show up in your own pajamas and you get a free shot. Join us for what is sure to be a night of smoking jackets, cognac, and suave, sophisticated sexism. And look who's going to drop by to mix and mingle:

JOHN F. O'DONNELL (host of Kingdom of Heaven, Comedy Central's Fresh Faces of Comedy)

GREG JOHNSON (host of the Greg Johnson & Larry Murphy Show)

Videos from GORDON & LUBELL ( www.Stashwax.com)

PLUS: Candy, dancing, men in bunny ears, shamelessness, and pictures of you looking all sizzling hot taken by our incredibly talented co-hort Nathan Kloke ( www.nathankloke.com ). And maybe, just maybe, a real live Kissing Booth!

http://www.myspace.com/thekissingboothnyc

Cost: FREE!

Official Site: http://www.myspace.com/thekissingboothnyc

Dance Dance Party Party!!

Dance Dance Party Party (DDPP) is more than a dance party, it's a mother-effin' revolution! As seen in the pages of Time Out NY and Bust Magazine, this weekly NYC all-female jam fest something that I think you should check out very soon. And look here...

Laura House from Bust Magazine says:

Now in its second year in N.Y.C., DDPP has recently cropped up in Chicago and L.A. as well. No matter where the party starts the format is the same. It's held in a dance studio (everyone throws in $6-$8 for rental costs), lights are dimmed, and a 90-minute ipod set of stellar jams is cranked. A light machine spins in the corner as women spin through the room in their own blissful orbits, free from greasy guys leering or hipster chicks throwing 'tude. 'It feels weird at first, [co-organizer Glennis] McMurray says, 'but it's also awesome because you're with a bunch of other women having a bonding experience.' There is no formal instruction at DDPP, but there can be moments of what McMurray calls 'spontaneous choreography,' when participants can't resist restructuring famous steps like the zombie moves from 'Thriller,' or the 'Maniac' routine from Flashdance. 'The best part,' says McMurray, 'is when people are shy [at first] and then they get started and realize this really is an environment where no one is going to stare or judge.'"

To learn more about DDPP NY and our other locations visit www.dancedancepartyparty.com!

Cost: $6-$8

Official Site: http://www.dancedancepartyparty.com

My pals Glennis and Marcy are at the helm of this and I wanted to help spread the word- and so should you! Tell other lady pals to come on out and shake a tailfeather at DDPP. It just sounds like magical fun, now doesn't it?!?

I have been very sick.

And so I have been on the couch, coughing up significant chunks of lung and drinking lots and lots and lots of broth. So much so, that I never want to have a bowl of soup, ever again. Even though laughing makes me have a hacking fit that ends in me wheezing uncontrollably for