It Turns Out, I'm Good at Unemployment

Have you ever wondered how you would fare as one of America's 14 million unemployed people?

This handy dandy "game" allows you to make decisions based on the premise that you're unemployed and have children. It's called "Spent". You basically have to make it through the month with a positive balance in your bank account. Along the way, your relatives die, your car breaks down, your kids have to go to birthday parties, all of which take money away from your meager salary.

I suppose I'm at an unfair advantage with this game- I mean, I'm already unemployed, I have "kids" (cats). But at the end, I survived with 400 dollars but had to keep my kid home from a museum trip, delay getting a weird dental surgery AND ignore my car insurance demands. 

It's all kind of part of an advertising project to get people to give money to the Urban Ministries of Durham. Play if you want to be momentarily depressed.

Ill-Advised Insomnia-Influenced Post

It's 4 AM and I can't sleep. This is due to many factors, one being an impromptu early nap brought on by wine/beer/pure laziness. Ok, that was really the only reason.

You may have noticed that I have a recent and burgeoning obsession with Jersey Shore. Sadly, many of my friends do not sympathize with my love for the guido's and guidettes of the shore, and have refused to allow their eyes to feast on the tanned entertainment that they have to offer.

I can kind of understand- when Jersey Shore came out, I was hesitant to compromise what I believed were my "intellectual" qualities to watch what I underestimated to be another mere "Real World" masquerading as something special.

How wrong I was. There are so many reasons to watch this tan-fest, and my mission is to make my unwilling friends watch just ONE episode, of my choosing. 

1) Snooki She is a reason all of its own. Maybe I'm partial to people below 5'2, but this pickle-loving ball of fun has captured my heart. She makes funny noises and is perhaps the most well-intentioned of the bunch


2) Vocabulary Lessons DTF, Grenades, Landmines, Shady Bitches, GTL; the list goes on and it's too late/early for me to explain it all. See here

3) Endless Parody Opportunities (See also, Snookishop)

Funny or Die Jersey Shore Parody
- Watch more Funny Videos at Vodpod.

Watch this, I beg of you, if not only for Pauly D's wonky British accent. 
Also, the song Grenade has a whole new meaning to me now, because I imagine Pauly D singing it to The Situation.

4) Feel intellectually superior, if only for a moment Case in point, when Angelina, the "Kim Kardashian of Staten Island" finds out she will be selling shirts on the boardwalk in the first season, she proclaims this humble profession is beneath her.
"I'm a bartender. I do...Great things," she says.

5) Biology Lessons Did you know women are sometimes called females? Well, the men of Jersey Shore are super scientific and they know this well. When Sammie "Sweetheart" is being taunted by a belligerent guy on the boardwalk, Ronnie shouts repeatedly, "Bro, she's a female. Bro, she's a female." See also, Facebook group dedicated to this biological observation.

6) To study the effects that Xenadrine have on a person's mental health: See;Ronnie.


7) Vicarious Confrontation I'm someone who doesn't enjoy confronting people about their behavior, much less pulling hair and throwing punches when the mood is escalated.  This show is a great outlet for my passive-aggressive streak. See some of the fights here.

8) Research about the state of Pop Culture These people, whether we like it or not, have now become ingrained in our popular culture. So much so that at times they're caricatures of themselves (see; The Situation). According to Know Your Meme, this is explained partially because of the interwebz:
"Considering the already exploitable nature of the Jersey Shore characters, Snookishop and similar Jersey Shore parodies can be seen as an example of how mainstream media and online exploit/gossip culture increasingly feed off each other."
(BTW, Snookishop is this amazing conglomeration of Snooki photoshopped into various images. )
We may not like the things that our pop culture deems important, but this show is really representative of the way people garner fame and how they become enmeshed in our mainstream media.  

Finally, to end this modest plea, in the hopes of us all coming together for this upcoming season of Jersey Shore (IN ITALY!) I ask for your consideration. How can you say no to these faces?

C'est Pas Possible

There are many reasons--my current 7 PM attire of bulky socks and pajamas being one of them-- that I am contesting the fact that I've recently turned 24. There must be some kind of conspiracy or calculation error that led me to this seemingly advanced age- it just cannot be.

I didn't type it on a typewriter but I thought the font would help me channel Hunter S. Thompson.

Dear Forces of the Universe,

I'm writing to address a gross error on the part of the time-space continuum, of which I believe you are the department head. According to my birth certificate, I am 24. Sadly you have not equipped me with the proper tools to possess these many years, and I must ask you for a reversal of this time, the reasons for which are herewith.  

1) I just tried to (successfully) hack into my own online bank account. Every time I come up with a new password for it I forget it as soon as I turn off my computer. Trying to hack into my own brain is harder than I imagined.

2) I spent the last 12 or so hours watching the first season of the Jersey Shore. I'd rather not comment on this, as it's particularly shameful. SHAMEFUL that I didn't see season 1 when it was on television! I've seen this intro way too many times and can hear it playing in my head:

        

3) The only reason I put on pants today was that I have new neighbors in the building across from mine and I know that they can see into my apartment, because my previous neighbors walked around naked all the time and I scarred my retinas by unwittingly glancing over at their uncovered windows.

4) A cupcake is my motivation for getting out of the house today. (In my defense, it's a pretty amazing cupcake, being held hostage by one of my dear friends. So I'll get to see her and eat a cupcake. Did I mention the cupcake?)

Sweet Arbiter of My Fate

6) I have a stack of library books that is my height, and I think I've read maybe one of them in full. I've become a library book hoarder.

7)I'm all of five feet tall, constantly carded, and told I look 16. 

8)I'm seriously considering starting a conversation with myself on Gchat due to the two separate Gmail accounts I have open a this moment. 

Thus ends my argument for now. Please carefully review my reasoning. You can speak with my team of lawyers at your soonest convenience.I expect either an age reversal or a lump-sum of monetary compensation.

(NOTE: This being said, thank you to the ppl (and felines) who spoiled me this weekend.)

Gleetise

Oh look, the title of my post is a mash-up of two words (albeit a bad one). You know who loves mash-ups? Will Schuester. My friend over at iamjudgmental happens to think he's repulsive, and when you see him sing, I agree that there's some sleaze that oozes from the screen.

But whatever, I'm not here to repulse you with an analysis of his sultry renditions of 80's rap or BoyzIIMen.

Yesterday's Valentine's Day episode of Glee ("Silly Love Songs") encompassed all that is extremely unrealistic and disconcerting about this show.

A million questions ran through my mind as this train-wreck of cheesiness barrelled into my living room.

• Who the hell would give a bunch of high school kids sparklers? (See the "Firework" segment in which Lea Michele sings dramatically in a dimly-lit school hallway with sparklers ablaze behind her) I must caution you in watching the video below, it's likely you won't be able to erase this song from your memory anytime soon. I don't mean this in a complimentary way.

• Why are they going Katy Perry crazy? Is this some kind of evil plan to make me go insane as her pathologically catchy songs loop endlessly in my feverish mind?
• Why is "Firework" the inspirational song of the moment? (It's been used in the Golden Globes Promo's, American Idol, and now Glee.)
• If you dance and sing to love songs in a hallway of a high school, it seems you have a higher chance of being teased.  Strangely enough, whenever the kids sing in the hallways (which happens often) they are almost always unscathed by the usual bullying. This seems strange.
• Why haven't they sung anything from Moulin Rouge? This would help buy back my affections. 
• Why was Tina crying uncontrollably in her love song? And why was it never explained?

I realise most of my complaints are "Firework" based. In other disturbing news, I just happened upon a website that seems to have some kind of desire for Quinn and Will to be together (Quill). All is can say is; ew. He already seems too chummy with his students. This is just uber-disturbing.  It seems to be an internet wide campaign, as this creepy imagined scenario demonstrates. I've seen too much.

Epic Equation of Doom

+

=

A movie so bad that mankind will have to go into hiding to escape the annihilation/permanent paralysis of our brain cells

*Note, I have seen neither of these movies. I saw The Mechanic last week, so I've already been punished. But from what I hear, The Room has achieved cult-like bad status, and The Roommate...Well, it's just bad. (It has an 8% on Rotten Tomatoes...8%! The Room has 31%- that's a pretty big difference, considering The Room has been dubbed the "Citizen Kane of bad movies."

Poultry Prophecy

One of my closest friends has a theory about chickens, which she revealed to me when we were in high school.

"Chickens are evil," she said casually, when someone asked her why she abstained from eating poultry.
"Wait... What....?" We responded, confused. I had chickens as pets when I was a child, so it was hard to imagine them harboring some kind of evil plan that they were to hatch upon mankind. (Pun regrettably intended).

"Yeah, they're going to take over the world," she said again. As my face showed all signs of being flabbergasted, images of dominatrix chickens whipping docile humans while holding them on a leash flashed through my head. My friend's convictions wavered at times--they didn't apply to Chicken McNuggests, because, as she said, those weren't really chicken.

I couldn't find a picture of a dominatric chicken.

In hindsight, my friend had a bit of prophetic wisdom in her words, after all, avian flu was and still is a serious threat in some places.

But the other day I came face to face with an evil chicken that taunted me from beyond the grave.

As you know, I love my cats. This love involves me cooking for them, rather than cooking for myself-- giving me a convenient excuse to constantly eat take-out (it's a win-win situation). And the other day, I thought to myself while shopping with a friend, "Why not cook an entire chicken?"

Victim and Perpetrator

Bad. Bad idea. I overestimated my Julia Child-esque butchering capabilities. I was left, half-wretching, half-crying, into my sink which also held a chicken's whole carcass maimed by my feeble attempts with a cooking knife. (I was trying to take off the skin for cat health purposes) One of my friends had the misfortune of being on the phone with me- an anecdote she was telling me was constantly interrupted by my faint cries of "blergh...blerghhhh...blerrghhhh....."

Own that chicken Julia!

In the end, I submerged that evil agent of destruction into a pot of boiling water and prayed for it not to leap out with its little wings at my exposed throat. (No such thing happened, although I'm pretty sure that it's possible.)

I thought I'd conquered my fears but now I'm unable to smell or eat chicken. My friend was right. Chickens are evil. I know because I've faced one and lived.

(This is by far the most idiotic thing I've ever written.)

Never Mind My Obscene Voice Mails

In 2008, what is now referred to as "Sachsgate" got in the way of one of my most enduring obsessions: Simon Amstell's reign on Nevermind the Buzzcocks. After Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross left some unsavoury messages on Andrew Sach's voicemail, (one pertaining to Brand's trysts with his burlesque-dancing granddaughter) an explosion of discontent went off in the British media world- even Gordon Brown spoke out against this act of telephone abuse.

I don't particularly care about Jonathan Ross or Russell Brand, but after this tsunami of craziness washed over the BBC I found out that a prerecorded episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks, in which Russell Brand was a guest, had been cancelled from BBC's schedule. I had been cheated from my precious last moments with Simon Amstell as the host of this irreverent pop quiz show.

"DAMN YOU BBC!!!!!!!!" (I thought to myself, shaking my fists towards the sky as rain pelted down on my face. Well, not really, I think I ate some cake to make me feel better)

Thanks to the glory of the interwebz, those moments have been restored.

Egypt

With the internet black-out and ousting of Al-Jazeera from Cairo, on-the-ground perspectives from Egypt are getting more sparse. Due to some loopholes in the internet many voices are still managing to pierce through the cyber walls. Here are some mainstream and not-so-mainstream sources to get real-time updates and analysis about Egypt.

1) The Arabist: Run by freelance journalists, Issandr El Amrani has a particularly interesting analysis of the lack of police presence in the streets of Egypt.

http://www.arabist.net/blog/2011/1/30/manipulation.html

2) Ayman Mohyeldin's Twitter account (He's a correspondent for Al-Jazeera)

3) The Daily News Egypt- Sarah El Sirgany, editor for the paper, appeared via telephone on Piers Morgan tonight a couple days ago, saying that the Daily News had one of the few remaining working ISP addresses in Egypt. A little while later, the website was hacked, forcing them to use a blog to post articles. Now the main site is back up- the most recent article details protests in Tahrir Square, with more powerful tanks present and fighter jets circling above.

4) For regularly updated live updates from the foreign press, The Guardian offers day-by-day updates that change every ten minutes or so.

5) Democracy Now! features blogposts by Sharif Abdel Koudous on the ground in Cairo. Or, there's also his Twitter account.  Most recent update describes people's reaction to the arrival of ElBaradei at the protests in Tahrir Square:

Finally, to find internet loopholes and other means of bypassing the internet blockade, the Huffington Post offers this list of suggestions. 

**BTW, despite Al-Jazeera being blocked from Egypt, measures have been taken to ensure that it's still broadcasting news about protests. They're broadcasting on alternative frequencies and ensuring the safety of reporters, some of whom had been arrested. You can watch here: http://english.aljazeera.net/watch_now/

Aw HELL NO

The most horrifying thing to befall Italy since Berlusconi is now looming in the distant future. This threat will stir fear in the hearts of Italian men, women, and children (and gelato-eating tourist) alike.

Yes, this apocalyptic day is upon us. According to TMZ plans to shoot season 4 of The Jersey Shore in Italy are well-underway; visa preparations apparently started two months ago. The exact location for this insanity is not known yet, but the possibilities are running through my mind like a cheetah on crack.

Florence? Venice? Rome? A tiny village in Tuscany whose peace will be forever destroyed by the late-night cries of a smoosh or the frustrations of a futile search for a tanning salon?

I don't know how I feel about this. On one hand, it could be televison gold. I spent my freshman year in Florence entertained by the drunken adventures of most of the student population which seems to have taken over the city. There were countless attempts to speak Italian gone extremely awry: "Dovay ill DOO-OMO?"(Where is the Duomo) Me and my friends were asked this question in downtown Florence, which is quite small, so the shadow of the Duomo is seen from practically everywhere and is really not that hard to find.

On the other hand, I cringe to think of the countless cultural faux-pas that they'll undoubtedly embark on. As we know, Italy isn't exactly fond of our band of guido's and guidettes. This will undoubtedly just make things a whole lot worse. I'm predicting the country will give them a collective BITCH-SLAP when they try to speak the language, or worse, extol their Gym/Tan/Laundry philosophies. And seeing the Situation hit on girls is nausea-inducing in English, can you imagine how bad it will be in Italian?

I don't know if I'm quite ready for this despite my extensive reality TV training.

Red Pill or Blue Pill?

Today in strange Craigslist Postings:

I'm not sure what's creepier, the ominous tone of the title of the post, or the offhanded way in which he promises to CHALLENGE EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, AND EVERYTHING

Is that you, Keanu?

(Click to see the 10 best Sad Keanu images. My personal favourite is Cat Keanu)

Haunted Housewives

I'm having some kind of post-traumatic reaction to the other night's epic finale of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. This is not the first time in Housewives history that there's been a spectacular display of female vindictiveness and all-around bitchery.

Let's recall fondly: Danielle Staub's weave-being-pulled fiasco, Kim Zolciak's claim that Nene Leakes tried to strangle her, Caroline's restaurant-show-down with Danielle, not to mention, Theresa's rabid lunge for Danielle during the New Jersey Reunion. These are just a few examples. (...and I've officially lost any shred of self-respect for myself due to my knowledge of these inconsequential facts.)

But last night's fight between Kim and Kyle was a different animal. I felt a little bad even watching it, being privy to such an intense verbal (and kind of physical) stand-off seemed a little voyeuristic. (On the other hand, watching Camille Grammer trying to conjure up a tear was, while sad, less bone-chilling.)

Here's a clip of the fight from the finale, which I feel bad even reposting because it's so brutal:
              

I've drawn a diagram to elucidate all the fighting.

That furry thing is Giggy, the dog.

Now that I feel  pathetic and depraved for wasting any fraction of my time on that hideousness, I'll dive into the insanities of the finale. There was some frivolous drama about the fight in New York that escalated into the mother of all sibling fights. Kyle cornered Kim in a limo and they exchanged puzzling and flat-out mean barbs, except Kim was clearly frightened by a head-swiveling ANGRY Kyle. And it ended with a terribly sad shot of Kim crying in the back of the Limo. 

This craziness brings me to the question, WHY on earth are we, as a culture, so unbelievably entertained by watching women fight? (I know I am) I tried to ask my great guru of knowledge, Google, and I was only confronted by this EQUALLY unanswerable question:

There are so many mysteries in this universe. We may never know the answers.

Delusion Bread Pudding

I don't want to step into the TV-Criticism territory of my friend over at iamjudgmental.blogspot.com, but recently I've become fairly certain that Bravo is trying to ruin my life, self-esteem, and questionable "intellect."

For example, I was held hostage for a period of 12 hours by something called "Top Chef"- and it wasn't even the most recent season, it was season 3, which was a bajillion years ago. (They're now at Season 8, so my math is a little shaky, obviously)

Yes, I watched that show for the ENTIRE DAY and for some of the night. Was I proud of myself at the end? No. But Top Chef in such lethal quantities did impart me with a lingering affliction- it allowed me to believe that I can cook. This delusion is very dangerous. And it's all Season 3 and All Star contestant Tre's fault.

In Season 3, Apple Bread Pudding was the cause of his demise. Today, it will most likely be the cause of mine. During the "Restaurant Wars" episode, he was all "I can make bread pudding in my sleep," then, he failed. But then, hail the comeback gods! He completely redeemed himself in the All Stars season with this:

It's called Southwestern Bread Pudding. And it's apparently spicy and wonderful. It makes me want to siiiiiing this song:

So then, I decided to make my own Redemption Bread Pudding. With some old chocolate cake and loads of heavy cream. We'll see how it turns out, my cats seem very interested in it which could be a good sign or a very bad one.

I'm hoping this obsession will fizzle out, just like my Project Runway obsession- I know, it's now on Lifetime, but really it should still be on Bravo. (Heidi Klum's voice saying, "You are Out. Auf Wiedersehen," echoed in my head for weeks during that difficult time.)

These delusions don't just apply to Top Chef. Project Runway makes me believe I can sew together two pieces of cloth. The Rachel Zoe makes me believe I have some sanity and that I know the proper use of the word literally and the Real Housewives of BeverlyHillsAtlantaNewJerseyNewYork usually just makes me believe that I have a brain but should get martial-arts lessons to defend myself against potential hair-ripping attacks (that goes for Jersey Shore too).

And the best part? Most of the women/men/children/everyone else on these shows suffer from increidble self-aggrandizing delusions of their own. Kim Zolciak thinks she can sing- that's all I have to say. Time to eat my pudding of delusion.

WHY?

Why does my next door neighbor have the uncanny ability to divine what songs I'm hating at the moment, and play them at eardrum piercing volume at 10 AM? (10 AM, to the unemployed, is the equivalent of your 7 AM)

This morning, it was a steady stream of Katy Perry and Rihanna. Just to spite him (and the world), I went back to bed and buried my head under a pillow.

Now that I'm up I'm planning to drown out his inane music with some earworms of my own.

To the one person who reads this blog: sorry for the lack of posts, but I think this Katy Perry gif more than makes up for it. GIFS are my new obsession.