Category Archives: fall

That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts.

It is officially September! (And happy Labor Day to all my fellow Merkans!) Well, the calendar says so, anyway. The weather says it’s still summer. It’s all sultry-muggy with those late-summer thunderstorms that come out of NOWHERE and BAM you’re soaked. Thanks, summer! Where are my crunchy leaves? Where are my cool evenings? I know. I am impatient. It’s an issue.



BUT! No matter! I refuse to let you get me down, weather of disgustingness! Because it is SEPTEMBER! Which means FALL IS HERE, DAMMIT! Also, it means I have SO MANY THINGS TO LOOK FORWARD TO!

Somehow, the next six weeks have come together into the busiest, yet most exciting, weeks ever. EVER. I have more things coming up in the next six weeks than I’ve had the whole year, and they are all awesome, and I am SO EXCITED.

We’re going to save the biggest, most exciting thing that’s coming up next month for a later date once it’s official, and once those chickens are ready to be counted, because I don’t want to geek out over something that’s still in the end-stages of planning.  It would be too depressing if it fell through. So once that’s official, expect MUCH REJOICING. And general rah-rah geeking out.

So…what’s coming up, Amy?


Andreas-face-talking! Andreas and I try to face-talk with a Google Hangout thingy on a regular basis. Like, at one point, we both got crazy busy? And almost two months passed? And the next time I talked to him, his son had a whole head of hair! THIS IS MADNESS! That much time can’t pass again. I need to see Andreas’ face regularly. Andreas keeps me grounded. He’s like my constant from Lost, I think. So there’s totally an Andreas’-face-talking scheduled in this month. This makes my brain settled, because I have a crazy-busy schedule coming up, and I like knowing I have Andreas scheduled in there. Being all constanty.

Andreas is a very good constant, brotha.

Andreas is a very good constant, brotha.

Laura-visiting! Very, very soon, Laura will be here to spend the weekend! Think of all the fun we had when I visited for just a few hours and multiply that times DAYS! We have grand plans; we are going to hit up the best thrift stores in the Capital District, we’re going to a play I’ve been looking very much forward to for some time (and it’s directed by, and stars, some of the best talent in the area – I can’t think of a better way to welcome Laura to town!) and we will have delicious foodstuffs. I need to get cleaning, because this place needs a good scrubbing. And I need to get planning, because Laura’s never been here before, so I really want to showcase our wonderful area so she falls crazy in love with it. (I want everyone to fall in love with it here and wherever they go, tell people, “Albany and the surrounding areas, they are wonderful! What do you MEAN you heard it was gritty and industrial and depressing. NO NO CHARLIE. Apparently you didn’t have the best tour guide ever!”)

You will not meet a tour guide who loves this place more. I most sincerely guarantee this.

You will not meet a tour guide who loves this place more. I most sincerely guarantee this.

Chris-and-Kat dinnering! Later in the month, Chris and Kat are visiting! In case you are all “who? what? what the hell?” Chris and Kat are Chris F. Holm, who is one of my favorite authors (and a downright awesome human) and his wife Kat, who I sincerely just enjoy the hell out of and is so kickass and awesome and funny and intelligent. There is a conference here, and Chris and Kat are attending…and we are meeting up! We are totally having food at one of my favorite restaurants! I am most excited, and hoping my excitement won’t translate into me spilling food all over my top or saying something idiotic or get tongue-tied that I am HAVING DINNER WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE AUTHORS YOU GUYS. (SIDE NOTE: when I told Dad this was happening, he was all, “What? They want to have dinner with you? That’s cool. Wait, are they killers?” and I said, “No. I’m quite sure they’re not killers.” And Dad said, “You don’t know. Probably this is what killers do. I bet this guy and his wife are BOTH female truck drivers” and I said “DAD. They are not FEMALE TRUCK DRIVERS. They are VERY NICE PEOPLE. They live in MAINE” and he said “Just because ONE AUTHOR you like lives in Maine doesn’t mean ALL authors that live in Maine are good, and besides, that author you like in Maine is a HORRORWRITER.” Dad doesn’t approve of horror. Also, one time Stephen King said something against Fox News, and therefore – DEAD TO DAD. So, Chris and Kat, I sure hope when you show up you are not female truck drivers. I hate when Dad’s right.)

Cousin S. visiting! This one’s got me over the moon. OVER THE MOON! So when I was a kid/teen Amy, one of my closest friends in all the land was my cousin S. Cousin S. is most honestly one of my favorite humans in the whole world. And she HAS been, since I was a wee Amy, all ponytails and big old glasses and nose buried in a book. We had so much fun together. We laughed until we cried. We GOT each other. We had inside jokes and secrets and she got me through some really tough times and even better, she was my family. How often is someone you love this much actually related to you?

This is cousin S. in high school. I stole this from her Facebook page. DO NOT KILL ME, COUSIN S.! I love you more than ALL THE THINGS. Also, look how beautiful she was. She totally still is, yo.

This is cousin S. in high school. I stole this from her Facebook page. DO NOT KILL ME, COUSIN S.! I love you more than ALL THE THINGS. Also, look how beautiful she was. She totally still is, yo.

Then life happened, and we moved away from one another, and went to different colleges, and there was marrying and child-having and job-getting and moving far and moving closer and all the things that happen while life is happening and you keep getting all these gray hairs, and then you turn around and you’re almost 40 and you haven’t seen your most beloved cousin in over ten years and you keep in touch with Facebook, but it’s still quite sad that you’re so far from those two girls giggling into the wee hours of the night over Princess Bride jokes and cute boys. Those girls would be SO ANGRY that you allowed life to get in the way of your relationship. Well! After us hinting at it and dancing around it and thinking about it for years, we are totally doing this thing, yo. Cousin S. is coming to visit this month for a WHOLE WEEKEND. I haven’t even decided what we will do yet. She said she hates it here so I have to win her over. Well, if there’s anyone that can win someone over to the joys of the Capital District, I think it might be me. I’m up to the task. We will eat food and talk and talk and talk and have adventures and then talk more and Dad was all, “Oh, no. You girls. That’s going to be trouble, is what that is. SO MUCH TROUBLE” but he was just kidding. He couldn’t be more pleased. I am so excited to see cousin S. SO EXCITED. (I don’t think we’ll get in trouble. Probably.)

This is cousin S. NOW. Guess what she does, along with being awesome? RACES IN TRIATHALONS. No, I'm totally not even kidding. She's one of the most kickass people I've ever known, most sincerely.

This is cousin S. NOW. Guess what she does, along with being awesome? RACES IN TRIATHALONS. No, I’m totally not even kidding. She’s one of the most kickass people I’ve ever known, most sincerely.

Mom and Dad visiting! Mom and Dad are coming for a weekend soon to pre-celebrate my birthday. We will have food and go shopping and marvel over the fact that I’m like the oldest. Then Mom will leave for Rome! Which she is very excited about!

BIRTHDAYING! YES! It is almost time (again? yes) for my birthday. Which of course means ALL THE CELEBRATION! OK, fine, it means I’m going to work all day then come home and probably blog…but still! BIRTHDAY!

Play-seeing! THREE plays this month. All of them with some of my favorite people. I get three fancy theatery lady-dates this month! On top of all the other awesomeness! I know, it’s almost too much. TOO! MUCH!

I’ve not yet decided if this is all TOO MUCH or if it’s JUST RIGHT. I’m going to go with it’ll be fine, as it’s all things I want to do. (Oh, also I have to work, of course. And do things like grocery-shop and laundry and clean and give Dumbcat snuggles and bring the car in for an oil change, which is totally not a euphemism, and get a haircut, and, like, LIFE-things. Those don’t stop. Well, maybe if you’re dead. I’m not dead, I don’t think. Am I?)

SO MANY ADVENTURES, you guys. With one big one to cap ’em all off that’s going to stay under wraps for the time being. Chickens. Counting. You know. But we’re close. We’re REALLY close.

I’m so excited I’m bouncy. Sometimes I live a really exciting life, right? It’s a little hard to believe. It’ll all be something to look back on when we’re mired in the wilds of the winter and don’t want to leave the house, I’d imagine. YAY FOR ENJOYING THE HELL OUT OF THE AUTUMN!

Happy week, everyone! Plan something spectacular for your fall. Fall deserves it. It’s really the best season. No, seriously, it totally is.

Let ’em eat cookies. And drink soda, I guess.

Long, busy week, jellybeans. Lots of work, lots of stuff, lots of running around like a crazy person. This weekend I have a review to write, one more performance of Assassins to run, a show at my theater to usher, and my fancy fancy panel on Sunday. Plus I’m working all in there among all that fun stuff, and also I PROMISE I will try to blog. I will do my damndest. Like a BOSS. I’m ok, just running around like a looney. It’ll slow down a little this coming week, I think. We’ll see. You never can tell, with me. Things just pop up out of nowhere. ALL THE THINGS. Some better than others, I guess. Such is the life of someone JUST THIS FANCY.

Oh, in exciting news: apparently, there are Goodreads awards? Yeah, look how up on things I am. (The answer is, I’m not. Not at all.) Anyway, you can go on over here, if you are a Goodreads member, and you can write my book into the little write-in box at the bottom, and if enough of you do that, I’d advance to the next round. What would I win? Haven’t a clue, lovelies. But I like the IDEA of winning. Who doesn’t? I feel like an asshole, telling people to go vote for me in something, but if I don’t, probably no one will even know this thing is happening…so there you have it. Please vote, thank you! You are wonderful and I love your faces.

I have night-shift tonight. Blergh. It’s Halloween in Amy-land so I can’t even imagine what kind of shenanigans are going to happen tonight. Halloween brings out the loonies. Then tomorrow it’s back to days, so I’m thinking I’m going to be a sleepy girl tomorrow. This nomadic lifestyle! It is not for the faint of heart! Or for those unable to sleep, or without sleeping pills!

I have a brain full of scattery today, as you can see. I’m not 100% sure why, as I got a full night’s sleep last night and all. I guess some days I’m just more scattery. Who knows. Also, I think I might be getting sick? I don’t know. It might be allergies. There is a lot of coughing and hacking going on over here at Chez Football. Does a person get allergies at this point in the year? I don’t even know. I have a weird body. It’s possible.

The internet says I can have fall allergies. THANK YOU INTERNET. No thank you, fall allergies.

I just won a trip to the Bahamas. SEE YOU LATER SUCKAS! Seriously, has anyone ever taken those recorded telemarketer calls up on their offers? They seem like such a waste of time and resources. I can’t even tell you how many of those we get a day at work. My favorite is the one that starts with the very loud ship-horn. Because how better to win someone over than blasting a ship-horn in my ear! Very good marketing strategy. Makes me VERY eager to listen to the rest of the call. Unable to HEAR the rest of the call, because the VERY LOUD SHIP-HORN has deafened me, but SO EAGER to listen to the rest of your annoying spiel.

Look at the ship I’ll be on when I go on my Bahamas trip I TOTALLY JUST WON!!!

It’s getting colder here. I get to start wearing warmer clothes. I kind of love this time of year. It’s close to winter but not quite there yet and there’s this excitement in the air. It makes me happy. I get to start wearing jackets and scarves and things. I know, you’re all “BUT SUMMER IS BEST!” but for someone who is always too hot, this is the best time of year. Summer’s all sweaty and disgusting. Fall is the best season ever. I’ll totally fight you over this. (Winter’s fine, if I didn’t have to drive in the snow. Or deal with the other people who are terrible at driving in the snow and either drive 4 miles per hour or get all up on your tailfeathers and honk because they think YOU are driving too slow for the conditions when you are CLEARLY driving the SAFE SPEED for the conditions and if they were to hit any sort of slipperiness they would totally hit your beloved car and potentially give you all the whiplash.)

This made me laugh. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

I had to go to the store on Monday. Not for HURRICANE SANDY GROCERY SHOPPING ZOMG, but because it was my only day off this week so I had to grocery shop or else I wouldn’t have had a chance to do it at all. I was pretty sure it was going to be insane, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned around here, storms make people go crazy about stocking up on things. But! Luckily, I apparently hit it at just the right time, and it wasn’t that busy at all. But, here is what I learned about the groceries people buy for hurricane prep in the Capital District, based on what was missing from the shelves. The most popular things to stock up on seemed to be:

  • bread;
  • soda;
  • water;
  • and all the cookies.

The funniest part of this was the cookies. The cookie aisle was DECIMATED. There was one package of Oreos on the floor all stomped and half-open as if it had lost a very long battle. The cookie aisle had so many empty spots on the shelves. It made me laugh so hard. There was also one woman with TWO FULL CARTS OF SODA. Two! So if the water went out, she’d be covered, I guess? With soda? All the soda? So, if we had been hit hard by Sandy, we would have been eating (and drinking) all the carbs. ALL THE CARBS. And I guess drinking all the water.

Normal Oreo aisle! Not at MY store, not on Monday!

Oh, just a note: we were very lucky here, the hurricane did nothing but give us a little wind, and a little rain. Some people around here lost power, but otherwise we didn’t get much at all. This is a lucky thing, because I’m sure you’ve all seen what happened to my beloved New York City, and my heart hurts for them. I actually did laundry all in the storm, back and forth to the laundry room, and nothing more happened than it gave me crazy windblown hair. Which doesn’t look too much different than my regular hair, to be honest. So we didn’t get much. Our leaves mostly blew off the trees. That was the most we got around here. Thank you for that.

Look how badass my governor is. All strolling around in his jacket.

OK. off I go to eat some lunch and then run to work to deal with the Halloween craziness. Wish me very little Halloween craziness. I don’t know that I have the mental fortitude necessary this evening. One drunk crazy tries to tell me a story about a ghost or some such shit and I think I might send a poltergeist out to haunt him or something.

Stolen pantyhose and baseball movies

This is going to be super-short. No, seriously. I have two hours. That is not long enough. I have to get to bed. Job interview tomorrow which I JUST GOT like a couple of hours ago and I am not prepared. I’m not 100% sure what they do there. Their website is confusing. So when they ask me, “what do you know about our company?” I’m going to be all, “ah duh” and that always makes a super-good impression. Also, I think I have no more pantyhose. I lost a pair in the laundry room (HOW THE HELL DOES THAT HAPPEN? they went IN the machine but did not come OUT. Did someone sneakyfuck my pantyhose? If so, EW, I hope you waited until they were at least CLEAN, you gross bastard) and I put a hole in the other pair so I think I have none. Which means I have to find nice slacks somewhere in my closet because I’m pretty sure my ripped cargo pants that I pretty much live in aren’t what you wear for an interview. Well, at least the weather’s gotten cooler so I won’t be the hottest.

Gimme back ma pantyhose, gross creepers. Sheesh.

SPEAKING OF! This weather is GLORIOUS. It’s totally fall-like. Fall-esque. It’s supposed to get to between 30-40 degrees tonight. Oh, wait, let me put that in Celsius for my non-MERKAN readers. That’s how I roll. I’m all-inclusive. Ready? TRANSLATED FOR MY FRIENDS WHO ARE NOT HERE! “Tonight, it is supposed to get between -1 and 4 degrees Celsius here.” (That’s what Google tells me. How’d I do? Celsius confuses me, and I even grew up right next to Canada so always heard both versions of the temperature on the news every night.) Isn’t that the best temperature ever? It’s so crisp and cool and it makes me want pumpkin-flavored things and apples and cinnamon and to watch shows about ghosts and to kick piles of crunchy leaves.

Aw, beagle! Younger Brother’s dog is a beagle. And we had beagles when I was growing up. I am a beagle fan, yo. They are the HAPPIEST dog. So goofy!

I am having cable issues in Casa del Amy and cussing at the television. I find it distressing that the television can work fine ALL DAY LONG until I want to watch a program. DAMN YOU TELEVISION. Oh, and I called to cancel HBO today, because a., I’m not using it now that True Blood and Game of Thrones are over (for now, anyway), and b., it’s expensive, and the cable company does NOT like you to cancel channels, no no Charlie.

Not anymore, it’s not. Not here, anyway.

Me: I’d like to cancel HBO, please.
Rep: Oh! Well, let’s discuss what’s best for your cable needs at this juncture.
Me: What’s best is cancelling HBO, please.
Rep: Is there nothing on HBO you might like? They have many excellent programs on HBO!
Me: I would like to cancel HBO, please.
Rep: Why would you like to do that?
Me: It’s expensive and the show I was watching on it is over.
Rep: True Blood fan, were ya?
Me: Yes. (Why so folksy all of a sudden, is she from Bon Temps?)
Rep: Have you considered watching Boardwalk Empire? It’s about GAMBLERS.
Me: Ma’am, I’ve just lost my job. Please cancel HBO.
Rep: Would you like me to look into ways we can lower your cable bill so you can keep HBO?
Me: I’d like you to look into ways I can lower my cable bill AND cancel HBO.
Rep: Oh. No. We don’t do that. If you cancel HBO and Cinemax your bill goes down $20 a month.
Me: I still have Cinemax? Good grief, I thought that was some sort of free promo like months ago. Have I been PAYING for that?
Rep: …aaaaand thank you for calling Time Warner Cable.

The moral of this story is: read your cable bill line items, ladies and gentlemen. If nothing else, you’ll know you have Cinemax. I could have been watching soft-core porn for MONTHS!

I did a search for “Skinemax” but AH MY EYES MY EYES so instead here is a befuddled hedgehog. YOU ARE WELCOME.

I’m 17 flavors of cranky about that stupid Clint Eastwood baseball movie. WHAT BASEBALL MOVIE AMY? I don’t know. There are a million commercials for it whenever I turn on the television. Here’s my issue. I love Clint Eastwood in a tearjerker. Clint Eastwood makes me BAWL. Million Dollar Baby? Effing Gran Torino? LOVED. Listen, there is very little I love more in the world than a good cleansing cry. And I like him because he’s all gruff and reminds me of my dad. And I REALLY liked him before a couple weeks ago when he decided he was going to talk to a chair. I DON’T KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING THERE. See, up until a couple of weeks ago, I was totally cool with Clint, because he even made a “get-offa-my-lawn” quote about gay marriage in GQ last year: “These people who are making a big deal about gay marriage? I don’t give a fuck about who wants to get married to anybody else! Why not?! We’re making a big deal out of things we shouldn’t be making a deal out of … Just give everybody the chance to have the life they want.” Yeah, so it’s not SO SO SO in-favor, but he’s an old guy, and he’s crotchety. I was all “you go, old crusty Clint.”

Oh, I can’t even. I’m not even allowed to watch this movie again. It KILLED me the first time around. SO MUCH CRYING.

Then he started talking to a chair? That I guess was supposed to be Obama? I don’t know. I can’t imagine anyone thought that was a good idea. Was that scripted? Did he just start blabbering? He’s not going senile, is he? I think the Republicans realized  it was a mistake because no one (except my dad…oh, dad) thought that was a rousing success.

Anyway, so the baseball movie trailers started coming out. It’s got Eastwood, it’s got a father/adult child thing (TOTAL weakness of mine) and it’s got baseball. DAMMIT EASTWOOD. It’s like someone sat down and was all, “what would make Amy cry and cry? Ooh, ooh! I know! Eastwood, baseball, and dads and their daughters! Shit, throw in that cute chick from Julie and Julia, Amy loves her and has ever since she saw her in that goofy movie where she went to Ireland and fell in love with a man named Declan and Amy LOVES people named Declan with accents and Amy swooned and EVERYONE hates that movie but not Amy! No no not Amy no sir! Because she is a gigantic sap sap sapperton!”

This is Matthew Goode. He played Declan. He is PERFECTION.

I am a SUCKER for baseball movies. Stupid baseball movies. Stupid Field of Dreams. Stupid The Natural. (NO NO, I don’t mean it, Field of Dreams and The Natural! I love you!) You give me a baseball movie and I am DONE. All the crying. Every last bit of it. I am totally kind of the most mad at Clint at the moment, but DAMN if I don’t want to see that stupid movie. (And now I want to see Field of Dreams again. I want a chance to finally meet my grandfather so, so young in a field in Iowa. I want my dad to have a catch with him again.)

If you can watch the “Why don’t you introduce him to his granddaughter” scene without getting even a little emotional, your heart is a black lump of snowman-eye coal. Sincerely.

This is longer than I even thought I could get done and I still have time for a popsicle. Go go gadget typing. Happy day, you guys!

They’ll give cameraphones to anyone. Seriously. Even people who use them inappropriately.

I have spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME screwing around when there are important things that need to be discussed today, you guys. Totally important things. So many important things, I’m going to list them, in a fancy list fashion. Because I’m fancy! Like a tea party or a eyelet dresser scarf with crystal perfume bottles arranged on it JUST SO!


OK, I know, EVERYONE’S all “zombies are coming! They’re almost HERE! They’re getting CLOSER now!” like the Monster Shouter in The Stand. I know. But I totally have irrefutable PROOF for you that they’re coming because I saw CREEPY GRAFFITI that PROVES it.

Well, it could also prove a lot of things, or nothing, but I totally took it as zombies. But let’s face it, I have zombies on the brain. Tonight, you guys, TONIGHT! The Walking Dead Season Two! Why are you not more excited? I think you might be broken.

Here’s the scoop, so you know that you’ll have to start working on your zombie preparedness kits. I work on Saturdays at an answering service, as I’ve mentioned, because I’m a poor person. Wait, I’m totally the 99%, right? I SHOULD BE PROTESTING. Wait, if I took time out to protest I’d lose my jobs and therefore my home and everything I own and I’d end up living in the dumpster behind the Dunkin’ Donuts. (Because listen, if I’m going to live in a dumpster, it’s going to be a good one. That’s probably a nice dumpster. And there’d be donuts! Only kind of gross ones!) So anyway, back on track. I know, get to the zombies. Hold your horses, buckaroo. So on one of my breaks this weekend, I was in the parking lot and looked across the street at the kind of abandoned nail salon/sell your gold place next door (yeah, they did both, and they’ve been closed for a month and are supposed to open again November 8th but I have my doubts. Also, they seem obsessed with lawn ornaments, and currently have a huge goose with a Pomeranian beside it, as if the goose is WALKING the Pomeranian, and this makes me laugh. Also one of those racist jockey statues which does not make me laugh) and noticed odd graffiti on the concrete wall of their parking lot. And then I realized, well, that’s it then! ZOMBIES.

…and you totally can’t see that at all. Listen, I TRIED. I zoomed in and EVERYTHING. And when I got home, I even tried cropping and shit. But it did not matter. This shows you what a bad photographer I am.

So trust me when I tell you that this says “2012 EXPECT US.” Also there’s a question mark in a box. I decided that’s one of those hobo marks (online someone called them “hoboglyphs” and I like that very much) that I read about once that told hobos in olden times what houses had good stew and what ones would poke you with sticks and such. But when I researched it I found NO INFORMATION THAT BACKED UP THAT THEORY. Zombies are VERY TRICKY INDEED. I DID find that a box with a dot in it means danger and two boxes interlocked means fear. So the box itself? Totally scary. The question mark, I don’t know, maybe scary fear? Zombie scary fear???

I also thought maybe they were trying to cast an Expecto Patronum spell but were doing it wrong, but that isn’t nearly as much fun for me as zombies.

So I think you’ll all agree that “EXPECT US” can’t mean anything but zombies. I mean, come on, I researched HOBOGLYPHS, here, people. Stock up on canned goods and bullets, because zombiegeddon’s coming in 3-15 months!


OK, so ALSO on my break, I went to my car and then was checking my phone outside and then looked down on my way in so I didn’t trip over anything and saw something so weird and distressing (but non-zombie-related, so don’t worry, you still have a little time for canned good hoarding) that I OF COURSE had to ALSO take a photo of it. And this one turned out prettier. If by “prettier” you mean “Amy, you seriously need to stop taking pictures of garbage.”

Now, listen, my job is kind of really gross. It’s in an old moldy bank, and one time this summer we got infested with the kind of flies that only hatch on dead bodies (yeah, we investigated it) and also there are weird smells and a sinkhole under the sink (how’s THAT for irony!) and no one understands the “washing your hands after using the restroom” signs so mostly they just use them to draw penises on. So totally gross. I kind of always want to burn my clothes after each shift.

Also yesterday, the words “I can’t get that up, ma’am. NO I CAN’T GET IT UP” passed my lips, much to the delight of my coworkers. It was not in reference to a lady-boner. But after my shift today I can guarantee you I wasn’t getting that up either.

So, yes, anyway. Imagine my dismay when I noticed these in the ashtray on my lunch break (and yes, the ashtray is a planter filled with wet sand, I told you, WE ARE FANCY):

Oh, what’s that? You can’t see what those are? WELL! You’ll be totally glad I zoomed in, then, WON’T YOU.


But here’s the confusing part. Unopened! Unopened, unused condoms! Did they give up on ever getting some? Did they totally commit to getting their girl pregnant? Did they have a fight with the Magnum people? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS. Also? You can’t see it? But there’s a garbage can literally two steps away from this. Like, if I hadn’t zoomed in on this weirdness, you’d see the trash can. I don’t get this. Was it an advertisement for their studliness? Was it an elaborate joke? WHY IN THE ASHTRAY?

Last year this was on the floor under my cubicle one day over there, which was also confusing:

It was a Ho Ho? And a fork? The Ho Ho was still in the wrapper. And the fork was on it, like someone was juuuust about to have a snack and then they were raptured. Oh, the note? Yeah, no, that wasn’t there. I put that there. For the photo. There was too much brown otherwise. Also, I left the entire tableau there when I left for the day, because I thought it would crack up another employee randomly, and the laughs are few and far between at that place.

The problems with this were multitudinous, but the biggest were, a., who leaves an uneaten Ho Ho? And b., who eats Ho Hos with a FORK?


People still say that, right? Well, I don’t care. It did.

OK, I have been playing with this thing for the past half an hour while I should have been finishing up this blog post AND IT HAS NOT ONCE BEEN WRONG. And the minute I finish up here I’m going to play with it MORE. It is AWESOME. It knows ALL of my favorite things. Seriously. It got Bernadette Peters. Who the hell even remembers who she IS anymore except for me? SO MUCH FUN. Except sometimes it’s a little wrong? And it took forever to guess NPH, and at first, thought I meant Jensen Ackles? And when I clicked on the “Details” button, it thought I should have answered “yes” to “is your character a Hasidic Jew.” Unless I’m totally off-base, I don’t think NPH is a Hasidic Jew. I could be wrong! But I think the media would have picked up on that by now, no?


So I signed up for Tumblr because EVERYONE’S on Tumblr and surprise, it seems like a lot of fun. So I guess I should have been jumping off all of those bridges and trying all of that angel dust all along, MOM. So, yeah, if you’re on Tumblr and you want to be my fuh-reeeend, link’s over there on the right. I don’t know what I’ll say yet. Probably profane stuff. I posted a picture of Edgar Allen Poe with cusses all OVER it. Digging it already, even though I’m not sure how it works totally yet.


A blogger who will remain unnamed recently posted her “rules of blogging.” And one of them was, “What’s with all the caps? That’s “shouting,” people. And it’s rude.” HEY. You know what? I KNOW WHAT IT IS. And you know what else? HONEY BADGER DON’T GIVE A SHIT. (LOOK OUT SAYS THAT BIRD.) Here’s the thing. I know how to use italics. I know they’re the classy person’s way of emphasizing something. Thing is? They don’t usually put across JUST HOW EXCITED AND/OR PERTURBED I am. Also, I shout a lot in real life. I don’t ITALICIZE a lot in real life. How would one even DO that? With a monocle and spats? I’m not classy. Can’t even pretend to be. Why bother? I’m gonna SHOUT ON HERE, Fancy Mc Bloggamuffin. And if you don’t like it and think I should be using my inside voice and my coasters and taking off my shoes so I don’t track mud all up in this bitch then I’m pretty sure that little x at the top right-hand corner will take you far, far away from this bastion of hopelessness. Who named you queen of blogging etiquette? Because I find it equally rude when someone tells other people what to do, so are we at an impasse now, or what? Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to put my feet up on the table and pick my teeth with my fingernail. WHILE SHOUTING. Multi-tasky!

Have a lovely Sunday, everyone! I’m off to see Ragtime. Nothing like racism, Harry Houdini, and a girl on a swing to perk up an autumn Sunday!

In Girl World, Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.

It seems like fall is finally upon us here in New York, which is absolutely my favorite time of year. Sweaters. Warm, filling food. Shoes with socks. Long, hot showers. The smell of fall in the air. Cool nights. Pumpkins. Apples. Wool peacoats. “I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.” The rest of you saps can take your summer and its sticky disgusting heat and inability to sleep due to the oppressive humidity and mosquito bites and summer pollen allergies and go get sunburnt, because I’ll take fall every single time.

I often wonder if we gravitate unknowingly toward the season in which we were born. I’m a mid-fall baby, and my birthday’s right around the corner. And it doesn’t matter a bit that I’m not turning any exciting age, and I’m too old to be excited about birthdays anymore, I’m still very excited that it’s fall, my birthday’s almost here, I can start wearing long pants and cuddly knits again, and leaves are about to start falling from the trees.

There is one thing we have to talk about, though. Halloween.

It’s early, I know. Very early to discuss Halloween. But I think it’s better to get this out now, so you can start planning, rather than to pop it in there a week or so before the main event.

First, listen. I love Halloween. I’m a big old grumpy-grump, but I totally whore my place out as a candy wonderland. I’ve been known to stand on the porch and tell passing kids to knock on my door because I have awesome candy. Which makes their parents think I’m a scary molester, but I do! Have awesome candy! Lots of full-size peanut butter cups! Real brand-name things! I am all about making Halloween exciting for children!

But Halloween also means poor choices for adults.

Every year, my old roommate and I used to look forward to the flyers we’d get in the paper around this time of year for the Party City near us, because the badly-photographed models in their horrendous Halloween costumes would be something to see. Recently, Noa blogged about the bad decisions that people make when deciding on their Halloween costumes, and honestly, did it better and more hysterically than I could hope to. Because she’s Noa, and she could make a dead dog on the side of the road the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. But I just have to point out some of the things I found when researching this year’s crop of Halloween costumes.

OK,I’m all for grownups dressing up and such. Fine. Have a gay old time. But it’s been said before and it’s completely correct – why does every single woman’s Halloween costume have to be the slutty version of something? Slutty nurse, slutty waitress. Not everything has to be slutty. And honestly, NOT EVERYTHING SHOULD BE SLUTTY. Because some of these things are bound to give you the exact opposite of a boner.

So,in honor of the scent of fall in the air that’s making me happier than anyone has a right to be, here’s my guide to what’s on the cutting edge of slutty Halloween costumes from Party City this year.

Because nothing’s sexier than the killer from Scream. Oh, wait, the killer from Scream’s showing a LOT of leg. Nevermind, then. I’m not fearing for my life, I now want to have all the sex.

This one isn’t even trying very hard and that’s disappointing. It’s a jumpsuit. A tight jumpsuit. With the movie title Halloween over one boob. Oh, and also MICHAEL MYERS’ FACE ON THE BACK. Which I would show you, but the website isn’t showing us. I assume because of the boner-shrinkage issue. There’s nothing sexier than looking at that when you’re trying out the reverse cowgirl.
This…I can’t even. Really? This isn’t sexy. This is sad. Just really sad. She looks like a lost half-mime. No one wants to have sex with you, Phantomette of the Opera. Even if you sing Music of the Night while stripping on the coffee table because you drank too much tequila.

Because there’s nothing men want next to their erect male members more than an emo lunatic with a fistful of scissors.

Because every man has always harbored a fantasy of having sex with the cat dressed as a skunk in the Pepe le Pew cartoons. The faux fur headdress is the worst. HOW HOT WOULD THAT GET BY THE TIME YOU HAD A COUPLE DRINKS IN YOU. I don’t know what the “video” link could be next to the picture but I can only assume it’s the woman weeping because she’s realized how sad her life choices are.

Wow. You know what’s sexiest about this costume, other than the gigantic pompadour? Nothing. The answer is nothing.

There is nothing sexier than Luigi from Mario Brothers. Oh, look, I found her husband. 

MAN is he going to be pissed she stole his costume idea!

Braiiiins….braiiiins….oh,and I’ll totally suck your dick, but just a heads-up, this fake blood stains like a mofo so it’s going to look pretty gnarly down there when I’m done. Sorry, bro. This model looks like a 70’s era Laraine Newman.

I’m sorry. I just don’t even know what to say about this. There’s someone who thinks Marvin the Martian is sexy? Really? Well, then have a great time with this costume, you crazy kids. Also, the night you wear this, saying “MY EYES ARE UP HERE” isn’t going to work. And the tiny hat totally makes this work for me. What the hell is on Joey’s head.

Pedophiles?Any pedophiles at this party? I’m a sexy girl scout! I’m a prepubescent girl! Hello, I have cookies! The cookies are my tits! Anyone?

This…um,other than the souvenir sombrero and whatever the hell’s going on at her waist which may or may not be some sort of holster, kind of just looks like a shirtdress. Fail. Didn’t try hard enough to be slutty. Although I guess if you had to do the walk of shame the next day you might be able to pull it off without being too embarrassed.

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Who cares, let’s do it in the coat closet.

Again, nothing says hand job like razor-sharp fingernails.

This doesn’t even show a hint of cleavage. HOW DARE THIS CALL ITSELF SEXY. Fail. Also, I didn’t see this movie (I KNOW! What is WRONG with me? Whatever, I think Cameron’s a huge toolbag) but I don’t think these creatures wore fuck-me pumps. Didn’t they live in the TREES or some such shit? You can’t climb trees in fuck-me pumps.

Wearing this costume would really help you get your ROCKS off. Ha! Get it! Rocks! Because they were always making those rock puns on the show? No? Anyone? Is the club included so you can commit suicide about how sad your life has become about two hours into the party?

Nothing says steamy Halloween sex like a reanimated murderous doll that pops out from under your couch with a knife when you’re least expecting it. Sorry, this one has an axe. That doll couldn’t have carried an axe. An axe is bigger than the whole damn doll was. This is inaccurate. Anyway, it goes without saying I’m hot like a furnace just looking at this one.


So happy early Halloween, everyone! Remember, any costume can be a sexy costume if you show enough cleavage. Even the father of our nation.

I cannot tell a lie. I did have sex with your boyfriend in the backseat of your VW Beetle.

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