Math

A broad walks to the Korean deli for a little sustenance after a wild night on the town. She buys a 4-serving sized box of Hot Pockets, a 16 oz bag of Pizza Combos, and a small orange Gatorade. She microwaves 3 of the 4 hotpockets at 60 seconds each and consumes them with the Gatorade before falling into bed at 5 a.m. She awakens at noon, covered in a half-bag of Pizza Combos, and eats the remaining Hot Pocket for "breakfast." How wasted was the broad?

"All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built upon the sand."

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Wicked Insipid

From Perez Hilton. Perez rips Brit a new one here.
~

And she deserves it. I managed to catch the her opening of the MTV Video Music Awards last night purely by accident and WHOA, was it baaaaaad. I mean, unbelievably bad. Wicked insipid. She hobbled around the stage in stilletos she couldn't walk in like a cracked out and bloated AC hooker, perhaps hoping that the flashy lights and dozens of good dancers in shiny costumes she hired as backups would distract from her lifeless orange flesh. Terrible. Brit, you can't have a comeback if you never really went away. Sad. Sorta.

Host Sarah Silverman, on the other hand, delivered a relentless opening monologue, with an appropriate line about Britney, "She's 25 years old and already accomplished everything she's going to accomplish in life."

He's Just a Happy Guy

Jets v. Patriots, tonight. Not that I really care, but it's news. And Tom Brady is hot, and Chad Pennington has big ears, and the Jets will lose. My opinion.

I want to kiss you.

Public Bathroom Mystery

Converting to Islam: What's in it for Me?

Osama bin Laden, everybody's favorite terrorist, urges Americans to convert to Islam. After much research, I haven't found a benefit to my personal conversion to the religion Islam other than the fact that I was terrifically bloated this week. Being allowed to wear a burka --or similar distracting head-scarvery--to work (because of my religious beliefs) would have been a nice reprieve from the confining outfit of Business Casual for females I was forced to squeeze myself into. Plus, you probably don't have to iron that burka shit (because of your religious beliefs) and that's gotta shave fifteen minutes or two off of your morning routine, and if you're always late because you belong to the city and you belong to the night, then that's gonna help you there) Other than that, the no-bacon eating, stay-at-home, husband-says-all, no gambling, no drinking, no whatevers, type of dilly-o really ain't gonna work for me. Fo' shizzle. My nizzle.

I'm Totally Getting One of These Things

What's so special about this photo of a cat? Oh, not much, other than the fact that it was taken BY ANOTHER CAT. Yes, that's right, the photographer, a feline named Mr. Lee, was wearing a camera around his neck engineered by his "Dad" Juergen Perthold. The camera automatically takes pictures every ten seconds. What you'll see here is what Mr. Lee sees on a regular old meow meow day in his regular old meow meow outdoor cat life. It's fascinating And way better than video when you think about it, because cats are friggin' patient; a video of a cat is gonna have a lot of fast-forwarding going on during their time devoted sleeping and stalking. (In eight years, I have yet to win a staring contest with Doodle.)

Anyway, I'm totally getting her one of these bad boy cat cams for her next Vermont-a-Go-Go Vacation and see exactly where that foxy bitch spends her 14 hour trips. I just hope it stays on, because her jaunts into the wilderness tend to be extreme. There are at least a half dozen break-away collars with jingle bells and ID tags in the stuck in the nether regions of the puckerbrush. Maybe the photos will help me locate the next lost one. Doubtful. What is for sure: There will be photos of murdering/torturing/eating voles, moles, moths, and mice. Brace yourselves for the mania.

Gov't Mule Rocked the Night Away at Summerstage

Gov't Mule, Rumsey Playfield, Central Park, NYC ~ 9/6/07

Warren Haynes never disappoints me, and last night's show in Central Park was no exception. In fact, it may have been one of the best Mule shows I've ever seen. The band was tight and the setlist was bangin' (to follow). A nice slow start with an electrifying finish, per usual. The crowd was excited to be there, and the weather was beautiful with a light cool breeze. Warren was singing directly to me, and wailing on the guitar only for me, and I think that was fairly obvious to everyone else, but they didn't seem to mind. Here are some terrible pictures I took while I was enjoying myself. If you missed this show, Gov't Mule's New Year's Eve tradition continues with The Winter of Love at the Beacon Theater on 12/28/07, 12/29/07, 12/31/07. Pre-sale tickets begin at high noon, 9/14/07 on mule.net.

Fire...Escape?

Corner of Fulton Street at Broadway, NYC , September, 2007

Click on photo for maximum Where You Gonna Go, Bitch???

Site of the former TGIF and other stuff, razed for the future Fulton Street Station (below).

Red brick building with fire "escapes" has escaped demolition and is pictured here on the far right...

Jams and Clams

Tonight I will be at Central Park's Rumsey Playfield enjoying the sweet sweet sounds of a quiet little band called Gov't Mule.

But if I wasn't jammin' I'd be clammin'--- at Professor Thom's tonite for their annual Clamapalooza Festival, wherein a dozen or so contestants will attempt to clam the pants off of judges with 2 gallons of their best recipe of New England Clam Chowder, all while watching our beloved BoSox. To my dear friend Joe: May the best clam win. And if yours isn't the best, I hope you win anyway.

Have a nice evening, kids!

Smooches.

I Did My Best Work in 1979

Here are the sole four entries in an otherwise empty school journal I found titled, "Writing Journal, Anne Altman, 1979." Vote for your favorite. (Like you could possibly choose between them. Please. All gems.)

Rainy Days

Rainy days make me feel happy sometimes because I know that the rain is helping the flowers and plants so they will grow. And I also like to walk in the rain. It makes me feel happy.

My Cat

My cat is the dumbest cat in the world. She climbs up a tree and can't get down, and when she meows for food, we give it to her and she can't find it in front of her nose. She also is dumb when she opens the cellar door to go down, and once she's down she meows to come up again. But really, I love my cat, Lucille*.

The Mysterious Letter

Esmerelda stole the diamonds. She had broken into Sylvia's beautiful castle and stole them. Sylvia, a very rich lady who lives there. So, Sylvia overheard a conversation between Esmerelda and her friends. From that she knew Esmerelda was coming for her gold. But Esmerelda needed her friends and they were to go there first. So Sylvia wrote a letter saying in Esmerelda's friends' handwriting, "Return the diamonds or else!" And she did. So Sylvia lived happily ever after.

The Laundry

I dread to do the laundry because it is always so heavy, and when I bring it downstairs in the evening, I always stub my toe or something. And the floor of the cellar is dirty. Also to collect the laundry, I have to go into my baby sister's room and she starts screaming. So, I hate the laundry.

*Lucille, 1976-1996. XOXO

A Yard Sale in Cuba Lake, New York

Click for maximum Cuba Lake, NY Yard Sale-y Goodness

August, 2007

We're the Bloodhound Gang, Yo

K-tel: Also Made Skis. And Records.

A Quad Shot of Gov't Mule Jam in Your Grill Piece

Fantastic

Per Perez Hilton, Chris Brown got freaky with a fan at a Hot 97 Concert in New York City this past weekend. [Photo by Soul Brother via Getty Images.]

I'll say. But Hot 97 has that kind way of doing that kind of thing to you. Listen for more than 30 seconds and you'll see.

All I'm Sayin' Is: Padma Lakshmi

All I'm sayin' is that the tall, lithe and beautiful snob di cucina Padma Lakshmi may happen to be known "internationally as an actress, food expert, model, award-winning writer" with "a new cookbook" and the host of Bravo's successful series "Top Chef," but, she has clod-hopping flipper planks the size of surfboards which are tipped by the longest-ass (and grippy) sloth toes that--at the very sight of them--make anyone's regular, cute toes curl to the point of paralysis. Nevermind the fact that they're less equipped for walking and more equipped for flingin' poo at zoo visitors.

So, there's that. It's all I'm sayin'.

As you were.

Anyone Who Has Ever Been to a Wake Knows

That there's a fine line between the results of airbrushing and makeup for the deceased.

Naomi Webb and Tim Gunn for Tim Gunn's Guide to Style

It's True