My half-assed Oscar blusings*

Jon Stewart is God.

Whoever has Lauren Bacall in the death pool is going to cash in soon.

It is just plain cruel to schedule a nominee as a presenter if his nominated category comes before his presentation category.

Especially when there is no alcohol served at the event.

It is just plain stupid to shill for the film industry's output by saying "you just can't watch something like this on TV" and then proceed to do just that.

As much as I hated the big, vomity production numbers, I miss them even more.

Oh, wait, "It's Hard Out There for a Pimp" just came on.

M. Night Shamalamadingdong's AmEx commercial was more compelling than any of his last three movies. And it still had a shitty ending.

Whoever has Dolly Parton in the death pool might cash in pretty soon, too.

Clooney/Obama in 2008.

All the ladies look very chic and subdued.

Even, amazingly, Meryl Streep, who usually looks like she was styled by a gaggle of five-year-old girls playing dressup out of an old trunk in the attic.

Meryl Streep's birth name was Mary Louise.**

If I had any doubts that Philip Seymour Hoffman should win the Best Actor award, hearing that he shot the role in 36 days while producing has forever dispelled them.

If the Oscars moved to a points system whereby the most passionate and interesting nominees got to speak the longest, that director of Tsotsti would have been speaking for an hour and a half.

Having just heard (yawn) Reese Witherspoon give her acceptance speech, I don't think we're in danger of that happening anytime soon.

xxx c

*blusings = blog musings

**UPDATE: this is not technically a blusing, I know. My actual blusing after thinking about exciting, trashy days of Oscars past was 'I miss Cher', however I was so bowled over about Meryl Streep's birth name it knocked all real Oscar blusings out of my head. Also, I have had three scotches. At least.

Photo of setting up the 2006 Oscars by Donna Grayson via Flickr

The communicatrix's bathroom guide to the year's big events

Somehow, I wound up with a (free) subscription to Entertainment Weekly, a rag that has slid far, far downhill since the glory days following its launch (when I was a paid subscriber), but still holds some use as short-attention-span reading material. And so, having burned through the frighteningly well-produced SXSW newsmag whilst brushing my teeth yesterday and the current issue of Jane (which remains mystifyingly, defiantly fab years after its launch) in a long tub soak last night, I was left with one raggedy-ass copy of EW to peruse on the can this morning.

But what ho! Whilst flipping through the US-thin pages, I was struck by the muse: I'll review what EW reviews...in bathroom lingo! Short, sweet, and much easier to add to your del.icio.us than anything you read while performing ablutions. Erik, this one is for you...

The communicatrix's bathroom guide to the year's big events (film edition):

The Da Vinci Code: Poop that looks good coming out but falls apart as soon as it hits the water

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest: Occasionally perfect shower ruined by incessant flushing of neighbor's toilet

M:I III: The hallelujah poop that accompanies the onset of one's period

Flight 93, World Trade Center: Tedious issues of The New Yorker that molder away in the bathroom rack because you feel too guilty throwing them out

X3: Outrageously expensive styling product moldering away in your shower caddy because you feel like an asshole throwing it out

Casino Royale: The long-awaited re-release of the contraceptive sponge

The Devil Wears Prada: Toothpaste sample you got from the dentist you use when you run out of your brand which turns out to be halfway decent, although not worth switching to from your regular brand

Miami Vice: Overly expensive set of matching Italianate-moderne bathroom accessories that you receive via regifting

Superman Returns: Mold-infected tile that looks good for a week after you scrub it with bleach but really needs regrouting, if not total replacement

Lady in the Water: (see The DaVinci Code)

The Break-Up: Otherwise satisfying poop marred by painful and unsightly corn kernels

Marie Antoinette: Paris Hilton, the fragrance

xxx c

Color me open source

Dear Microsoft: Go fuck yourself.

Seriously: go take a long walk off a short pier. Better yet, how about taking a running leap off a rocky cliff into a huge, gaping void and on the way down, shoving whatever loose, dangling appendage happens to be handy up your greedy, corporate ass? Because really, you should feel as much pain on the way to your ultimate demise as you do when you reach the terminus.

Whither this rancor? I'll tell you, dickheads.

I've been using Microsoft products since 1996, when I grudgingly dumped the superior WordPerfect upon rejoining corporate America buying a LEGAL copy of your product each time to use at home.

I have refused to put illegal copies of Office on other people's computers, even though I question how much you people play by the rules when it comes to corporate 'fairness."

I've continued to support Microsoft even as your buggy templates and bloated programs ate away at my hard drive and terminally crippled my data.

I've even defended you to the Microsoft haters, that ever-growing contingent of the righteously indignant, because of the remarkably almost-perfect mail client, Entourage.

But today, I couldn't launch Word to work on a document.

I couldn't launch Word because I had my almost-perfect mail client open on my 12" PowerBook, which sits two feet from my PowerMac G5 desktop, which I use, HOLD THE PRESSES, HERE, in tandem.

That's right: I have the audacity to want to have my mail client open on one networked computer as I work on a Word document on the other, which is, apparently, a violation of my license agreement, a practice which makes me the electronic equivalent of crackheads who slit throats for a fix or bearded, gold-earringed, parrot-toting seamen of old who say "Yarrrr!" a lot.

So you know what I'm going to do when I get out of this work hole I'm in right now?

I'm finally going to download that copy of Open Office I've been meaning to check out.

I'm finally going to move my email into Mail.

I'm finally going to switch all of my non-essential work documents to text, like the hardcore geeks do.

And then I'm done with your tired, mistrustful, greedy, no-support-giving, distrustful, disrespectful assholes.

Yes, the corporate world will continue to use your shitty output and yes, I'll probably have to keep using it, too, at least for the time being. I do PowerPoint presentations, yes. I'm forced to deal with Word and Excel and the rest of your buggy, shitty, unsupported-for-mac output.

But I promise you this: for every time I actually use one of your products, I will tell two people not to. I will turn them onto open source and Mac-based alternatives. And yeah, my blog only gets 150 unique visitors per day (now) and yeah, I only know a couple of thousand people anyway (now), but you know what? I'm one of those mavens old Malcolm Gladwell's been yakking about.

And besides, even though my own hit count isn't great, it's still better than your products. And something tells me I'm not alone in my dissatisfaction with the Microsoft ethos. I have a feeling if I tag the hell out of this post, and if I tag it with enough popular (yet salient) search terms, and if I link the shit out of everything in the body of the post, it might just get picked up. It might just go wide on the interweb. And who knows, maybe my insignificant flash of anger will be the tipping point (thanks again, Mr. Gladwell) that pushes you off that cliff, following crappy Suitcase and crappy Quark and all the other greedy, distrusting, software leviathans that are surely (oh, sweet baby jesus, let it be true) in freefall right now.

Because it's time to put customers first again.

Because it's time to put corporate greed behind us.

But mostly, because you and the majority of your products suck some serious ass.

Oh, yeah...one more thing:

xxx c No image courtesy of the evil empire's stringent copyright enforcement.

100 Things I Learned in 2005, Part 2

Oh, god. I'll do anything to put off "Getting To Empty", won't I?

1. I really really really like living on my own.
2. I can see the day I'll be ready to give it up anyway.
3. Despite my good intentions, I probably will not finish the curtains before that happens.
4. Surprise miracles are even better than the ones you wish for.
5. The best way to make peppers is to sauté them in a bunch of olive oil, garlic and onions, a wee bit of red wine, then throw in a crapload of spinach at the end.
6. The best way to cook steaks it to let The BF do it.
7. My sister, Liz, makes the most amazing silver jewelry.
8. My sister, Cathy, is amazing, period.
9. My spirit guides were right.
10. I don't need a lot of stuff, but I need the stuff I have to be nice.
11. The red sofa is too big for my living room.
12. I am not, perhaps, the white tornado, after all.
13. I have a visceral dislike for the color mint green.
14. Vonage is cooler in theory than it is in practice.
15. My jewelry isn't worth as much as I thought it was.
16. I need more art in my life.
17. If my gut tells me something, I need to pay attention.
18. That goes for literally as well as figuratively, in my case.
19. That colorectal surgeon who withheld results from me, sending me into a tailspin of illness it took me a year and a half to climb out of didn't realize what he wasn't doing, and didn't do it on purpose.
20. I really and truly understand this.
21. I'm ready to forgive him.
22. Everything changes.
23. It is 100% worth it to buy the wireless mouse.
24. For each computer.
25. Including an extra for your boyfriend's house.
26. It is way harder to design your own logo than it is to design someone else's.
27. There will always be some version of having to go to your friends' shows just because they are your friends, even when you have effectively left the building.
28. I have way too many clothes.
29. I have more than enough money, even when I think I don't.
30. There will never be enough time.
31. Should it come to that, it will be much easier to give up booze than it will coffee.
32. Bloggy crushes are as much fun as show crushes, and very similar in nature.
33. Except for short stretches, I will never be as glamorous as my mother, either of my grandmothers, most of my friends and both of my sisters.
34. I am okay with that.
35. They always have been.
36. You do not know how beautiful life can be until you have added a delete button to your Gmail.
37. The difference between love and attachment is the short step between living and shadow-living.
38. If you buy a forest-green rug from Urban Outfitters and use it as a bedspread, you will wake up every morning with forest-green snot in your nose.
39. Holidays are better for me as an orphan.
40. My eyes will always be bigger than my stomach, so I better get jiggy with the workarounds.
41. Estrofest is at least as transformative as morning pages.
42. Implementing GTD is both easier and harder than I thought it would be.
43. My level of ongoing commitment to something is dictated by delight, shame and money, in that order.
44. I learned more about piano and guitar than I thought I would.
45. The nano was made for the podcast.
46. Despite 43 years of evidence to the contrary, I can get fat.
47. I don't need presents at Christmas, but I must have them on my birthday.
48. The St. André at Trader Joe's is not bad, not bad at all.
49. Vodka is good for summer and scotch is good by the fire but my favorite flavor of hootch is bourbon.
50. Writing things down makes all the difference.

May the lessons and gifts of 2005 make your 2006 all the richer.

xxx c

2005

• 100 things, Part I

2004

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

100 Things I Learned in 2005, Part 1

I have been busy gorging myself on movies, sex and certain foods I will have to give up when I resume the diet I must observe to keep the blood from coming out of my ass. Such are the holidays for me. Of course, the holidays were supposed to be devoted to organizing, blog-moving and other dorky things, but before I could properly set about arranging things for 2006, it was important that I sort out 2005.

And so, without (much) further ado, I give you that which I have learned this year, part the first:

1. Online dating works.
2. The courts don't always.
3. Tasty Bites makes one type of heat-and-eat Indian food that is SCD-legal.
4. Making your bed every day gives one an odd sense of accomplishment.
5. John Waters gives good theater.
6. Coffee tastes better in the yellow mug.
7. Tea tastes better in the blue one.
8. Given the work is interesting, I'd rather do it than a vacation.
9. Del.icio.us rocks.
10. Ditto Bloglines.
11. Double-secret-probation ditto ELF.
12. When the diet that stopped the blood from shooting out of you like a backwards bidet specifies "fanatical adherence", don't be an asshole, fanatically adhere.
13. Clogs are a lot like crack, only more expensive and your first taste isn't free.
14. Sometimes when The BF wants to spend 25 bucks on a doohickey from Dwell magazine, he's right.
15. After health, my well-being on a given day is most directly tied to how good my hair looks.
16. I cannot begin to describe how rattling that admission is.
17. Amazingly, grocery-store sushi can actually be good.
18. Even more amazingly, so can something with the total asshole name of "engagement chicken".
19. Tom Leykis and Dr. Laura Schlessinger have more in common than they'd like to admit.
20. I would rather design the postcard for a play than be in one.
21. I'm okay with that.
22. If you are the kind of chick who says "I feel more comfortable around men," you have yet to become the super-fabulous chick you can ultimately become.
23. Meyer's Dark tastes nothing like Maker's Mark, but they are apparently interchangeable in a noisy bar.
24. You cannot, under any circumstances, turn left on a red arrow.
25. If you do, it will cost you $400.
26. If you don't reply in time because it is your first mover EVER and you are too stupid to read the ticket properly, it will cost you an extra hundred and untold hours in lines at traffic court.
27. A stronger prescription has absolutely zero effect on night vision.
28. The Brits make the best soaps.
29. The Yanks make the best trash.
30. Sometimes 12" beats 15".
31. To make a really good SCD-compliant pizza, you need to put the cheese on first.
32. Then the toppings, then the sauce.
33. It still doesn't taste as good cold.
34. Old boyfriends never die; they just lurk on communicatrix.
35. Sometimes you have to wait to be proved the funniest boy in class, but when you do, your victory will be all the sweeter.
36. Grocery-store sushi kicks ass.
37. You can make a roomful of complete strangers laugh with other people's slides and videos.
38. People who drive SUVs really are ruder.
39. A bunch of cats playing pop songs from the Middle Ages makes for a mesmerizing show.
40. A bunch of cats howling in Icelandic makes for an even better one.
41. Vegas is one and a half hours too far away to be worth it.
42. Blunnies look better online than they do in person.
43. No matter how many oaths I swear not to, I will always buy more books than I have shelf space for.
44. The clients you think will be difficult can turn out to be your staunchest supporters.
45. The clients you think will be easy will inevitably turn out to be the biggest pain in the keister.
46. Given the option of any fancy entertainment available in one of the most exciting metropolitan areas in the world, I will most likely choose burgers and a movie in the 'Deener.
47. Just because someone dumps a pile of crap in your lap doesn't mean you are obligated to keep it.
48. The best movie of the year is less than 90 minutes long and has a kid wiping spooge on school lockers.
49. The Americanos are best at Kings Road and the eggs are best at Lulu's, but overall best breakfast score goes to Backdoor Bakery.
50. To spare yourself untold private misery and public humiliation, change the default setting on your blog software to "draft."

xxx c

Previous editions:

2004

• 100 things, Part I
• 100 things, Part II

Searches, we get searchesâ„¢: Year-end gala edition!

Before I leave for my sunshine winter holiday of lights, sound and fatty food, a few words from weary, wanderin' strangers 'round the globe. Lot of rhymin' fools this time of year... memory loss & crohn's disease (MSN Search)

I forget, do I have blood coming out of my ass or not?

what kind of relationships are in jamaica (MSN Search)

Lazy ones, mon.

camel toe song ppt (Google)

Now there's a presentation the boys in marketing can sit through.

what rhymes with sad (Google)

Bad...poet.

rhymes from daughters to fathers (Google)

1.

Cher Pere: Ou est la mer? Claire

2.

Dear Dad: You're rad! Love, Mad.

high tech shit (MSN)

The kind of crap I want for Christmas.

Poetry lesson and "Ball of Confusion" (MSN)

LESSON ONE: Become a Temptation.

william shatner dead wife vodka (Google)

Hm. Do you eat the pinky when you kill the bottle?

"heather woodbury" fomenting (Google)

Who says art isn't stirring, dammit!?!

sad rhymes (Google Deutsch)

Ein, schwei, drei...die, muthafucker!

And finally, to ensure that I endear myself to the fine folks at DreamHost next year by jamming their servers with useless shit:

"what does nsa mean" (Google)

NSA? You want to know the definition of NSA? You mean, you went online to Craig's List, trolled the personals, stumbled across the term "NSA", thought to yourself, "Self, I wonder what NSA means", Googled "NSA", pulled up a bunch of sites that seemed like they might "explain what NSA means", landed here...and now you're wanting to know "the meaning of NSA"? That's easy! NSA means...

"Neo-Swiftian Archetypes".

Merry Christmas, Fred! God bless us, every one!

xxx c

'Tis the season to want to plug thy neighbor through the eyebrows

Remember back when you were a kid (those of you born pre-1968), before the era of grocery stores accepting every kind of plastic and bagging things in anything but? (I said "but".) Remember how everyone, everyone, who wasn't paying cash had to get their checks cleared at the service counter beforehand? How they had to show I.D. and write out everything except the amount, tear the check out of the  checkbook, hand it over to be cleared and stamped and initialed and whatever else before they ever dreamed of getting on (E. of Ohio)/in (everywhere else) line?

Well, I do. And guess what? It was a good system. Because not only did it speed things up, it was a gigantic and singular blow against the creeping solipsism of urban life. As in, Get a clue, Senor Asswipe! You're not the only pony in this here corral!

I know I'm supposed to be all Buddhist and "thispersonismyteacher" and all, but WT-motherfucking-F!?! How on the ball do you have to be to realize you should (a) have your I.D. hopefully somewhere moderately accessible on your person but (b) definitely not "maybe" in the car parked out on the lot?

Sweet baby jeebus, these holidays cannot be over fast enough for me...

xxx c

Quotation of the Day: Dealbreaker Edition

"Nah. I want to watch on the downstairs TV. It's closer to the beer." , response to the question, "Why don't you watch The Simpsons upstairs with me?" posed by Bonnie Gillespie to her then-boyfriend of six months

Don't hold your breath

I am just waiting for the day I get a casting breakdown specifying, “Unnatural, awkward talent only. Must be over-the-top with no ability at all to respond in the moment. Or dead. Dead would be good. Dead, with really, really bad comic timing.”

What not to tell an actress

I've taken 2 hours out of my very busy day surfing the interweb to audition for you. I've driven 10 miles in the rain at $2.75/gallon with a cityful of rude assholes in luxury assault vehicles to get there.

I've suffered the indignity of holding up a magic-markered sign with my name on it as I smiled and slated my name for the camera like a talking fucking cow.

For the love of all that is holy, do not greet me with, "It is such a pleasure to see an actress brave enough to come in and audition in no makeup!"

Twat.

Photo by Marc Alan Davis used under a Creative Commons license

Quotation of the Day: Let Freedom Ring! Edition

"Is that democracy you stupid cunt?" , Punctuation- and grammar-challenged troll on the blogging.la site, in response to a post I made about voter turnout for today's costly California special election

Exchange of the Day: "The Book, Music & Lyrics of Mormon" Edition

TO: Colleen Wainwright [email redacted]FROM: Sidney [email redacted] DATE: November 1, 2005 SUBJECT: (no subject)

Margie, I am looking for a brilliant Mormon composer to write the score for "An American Prophet," a wonderful, touching, and quite factual show about Joseph Smith and his book of Mormon; Perhaps the most important musical about Mormon history ever. Click [URL redacted] and read this wonderful show and start writing. You'll see I write up a storm: book and lyrics to 20 funny and dramatic musicals, eight have been completed and possibly up for production, six are being written by some of the most important composers, (see bio.) For Broadway, click "Ev'rybody's Jumpin,'" "The Final Curtain," two hysterical suicidal comedies. If I disturbed your privacy, please forgive me and donot respond, otherwise lets get going.

[signature email link / URL redacted] [bold text formatting sic]

----

TO: Sidney FROM: Colleen Wainwright DATE: November 3, 2005 SUBJECT: RE: (no subject)

Hi.

I believe you intended to email this to someone else. This email address [e-mail redacted] does not belong to someone named 'Margie'.

Good luck with your musical!

xxx c

----

TO: Colleen Wainwright FROM: Sidney DATE: November 3, 2005 SUBJECT: RE: RE: (no subject)

Colleen, Please forgive me, just looking for talented Mormon composer to write my show. If you write music please take a look.

----

TO: Sidney

FROM: Colleen Wainwright

DATE: November 3, 2005

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

No forgiveness necessary, Sidney.

Good luck with your project.

xxx c

----

TO: Colleen Wainwright

FROM: Sidney

DATE: November 3, 2005

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

Colleen, Read it and you'll fall in love. Write a couple of tunes and lets get going.

----

TO: Sidney

FROM: Colleen Wainwright

DATE: November 3, 2005

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:(no subject)

Sidney,

I am not Mormon and the little time I have to work on songs, I must spend on my own.

I'm sure that given your level of passion and enthusiasm, you'll find the right collaborator in no time.

Again, best of luck to you.

xxx c

Image of the Angel Moroni by Aquisbe used under Creative Commons License

Revolution of the High-Tech Luddites

I've been a dork all my life, but I'm still just barely a geek. I love the toys (DVR, nano, anything from Adobe); I fear the code.

My boyfriend, a.k.a. "The BF", who has about 20 extra computing years on me (but is a year younger, damn him) also likes the toys but is very, very good with the code. A genius, in fact. No, seriously, it's been quantified. He also has greater facility with the pen tool, better hair, AND a penis. If I couldn't cook, I'd kill myself.

The point is, dude knows his way around a computer. He'd better; he owns seven of them. (I think. I officially lost count on Sunday after we brought the new 17" PowerBook home from Fry's.) Yet from Day One (and I know this, because I have the emails to prove it) he described himself as a "high-tech Luddite". I chuckled to myself reading that way back when, and made a mental note to have sex with him as soon as possible because that shit is HOT.

Anyway, ten months later, I'm marveling over not only how right he was, but how right on. Code isn't the enemy; coding, like writing or painting or...cooking, might even be considered useful in some circles. It's the shiny object factor of computers that'll bring you to your knees.

The way I see it is this: back when I was 10, I had a prodigious creative output. In addition to going to school full-time and maintaining close relationships with an elite but good-sized circle, I taught myself to draw, kept a diary, sent letters, wrote horrible plays I forced my cousins to act in, and not only administrated but provided news coverage for an entire doll village of 50 (in three columns...with a t-y-p-e-w-r-i-t-e-r).

How did I manage to do all of this and still have time to ruin my eyes reading under the covers?

Well, there was none of that pesky cooking to get in the way, to be sure, but there was also the now-quaint practice of doing one thing at a time. You wouldn't think of talking on the phone while you watched TV while you did your homework because: (a), you'd get your butt stomped for not taking your homework seriously; (b), you'd get your butt stomped for hogging the phone when there might be an important long distance call coming in; and (c), you'd get your butt stomped for having the TV on, period.

Compare this, if you will, to today's scenario: me, at the G5, on hold with the phone company, watching (insert crappy TV show here) playing in the upper-left hand corner of the screen, listening to (insert crappy talk radio show here) playing on the radio, updating the ER website as I back up files to the external hard drive, peeling off every now and then to stir whatever's (yes) cooking on the stove.

Maybe I will kill myself.

Or maybe I will just say "no". No, I don't need a second digital cable box hooked up to the computer. No, I can't realistically keep up with 45 feeds*. No, having 10 different email accounts (at last count) isn't making life easier; it's making things exponentially more complex, which is making me exponentially more scattered and anxious.

I've talked about paring down my offline crap; now it's time to tackle the electronic focus-fracturers. No more slave to the electronic overlords, I; from now on, it's Paul Ford's Amish Computing all the way.

My escape plan combines elements of the methodology laid out by the geek bible, Getting Things Done, by David Allen mixed with tips I've culled from my online brethren (Lifehacker, Lifehack, 43 Folders) to help me in my quest.

Call it irony if you will; I think of it as poetic justice.

Geek-style.

xxx
c

*Pared down from 71 at the start of this post because of the deep, deep shame I felt upon seeing this hideously high number.

Photo of dork playing a dork in a dorky play taken by some yearbook geek from E.T.H.S. circa 1978

10 reasons why Elizabethtown may be the best movie of 2005

1. Proves once and for all that an actual script is not necessary to secure major financing.
2. Replaces ho-hum filmic "tricks" like plot and character development with highly illustrative musical montages.
3. If you don't like the ending, you can wait around five minutes and there will be another one. Twice.
4. Will rid your boyfriend of that pesky crush he's had on Kirsten Dunst.
5. Will rid you of that pesky crush you've had on Legolas.
6. Not enough quirky romantic comedies invoke the memory of Martin Luther King in the name of cheap emotional credibility.
7. Will ensure that no one accidentally spends tourist dollars in hillbilly flyover states for years to come.
8. Provides much-needed outlet for Susan Sarandon to show off her famed facility with broad physical comedy.
9. Overproduced website provided much needed salary and health benefits for at least two code monkeys and a web designer.
10. Provides the communicatrix with a much-needed outlet to vent her considerable spleen.

xxx c

Searches, we get searchesâ„¢

Wherein we shamelessly mock others for our own amusement and to bump our hit count up of a Friday. communicating with the deceased (MSN)

Search turned up no results; are you sure you didn't mean "communicating with the diseased"?

free clip art of a snack room (MSN)

Man, that is gonna be one KICKASS monthly newsletter!

rhymes for sad (Google)

Gstaad? Hyderabad? Wait! Wait! Upanishad!

Poorly Designed Flyer Sample (Google Canada)

$#(@#&$ rude-ass Canadians! I suppose you could do better!

WHAT IS CLIMB FOLDERS DISEASE? (Ask Jeeves)

Whaddya wanna bet this guy wishes he'd paid more attention when the English teacher covered homonyms...

what a man searches for when looking for a wife (MSN)

Anything but the communicatrix...

garth margie's dark place (Google UK)

Dunno, but I'll bet it's quite different from Margie Garth's dark place.

mrs potato head funny pics (Google)

Sorry, we're fresh out. Could we interest you in a Mrs. Potato Head executed in the style of the Dutch masters?

Possible contractions for using false eyelashes? (Ask Jeeves)

Look, no more grammar questions today. My head hurts.

maltese whore david pics (AOL)

So many Flickr groups, so little time...

xxx c

Searches, we get searchesâ„¢

Wherein we occasionally divulge the strange, stray searches that lead the lost to the Land of (Broken) Promise in the Form of an Endless Loop, a.k.a. communicatrix. What Yes or No question would you ask a person that lies or tells the truth in order to save your life? (Ask.com)

"Am I on fire?"

truth about sparkletts (Google)

Sparkletts...water...is...people!!!

weight loss with strong and noisy bowel movement in the wee hours of the morning (Yahoo)

Hey...am I being Punk'd?

fifty dollar chiffon prom dresses (MSN)

Oh, Mary! Christmas came early this year!

gay polyamory (Google Blogsearch)

Well, it says it right on my business card: "Communicatrix: Punditry on polyamory, gay and straight."

pictures celebrity bear breasts (MSN)

Whoa, Smokey has man-boobs?

happy ending shit hammered lower east side (Yahoo)

If that's a happy ending, remind me to steer clear of you on a bad day.

hermes scarf authentication (MSN)

Rub it on Catherine Deneuve. If she turns green, it's iron.

how much do "commercial actors make" money (Google)

Wait, they're "supposed to pay" me?

perverted private sites personals (Yahoo)

Yes, please.

xxx c

Searches, we get searchesâ„¢

Woodwork squeaks and out come the freaks...to communicatrix! show me some chicken curry embroidery designs (Google)

...and I'll show you some really twisted Indian chicks.

airbrushed tutus (Google)

When 14 yards of frothy, pink tulle just isn't femme enough.

hippie skivvies Jesters (Google)

I thought dirty hippies went commando.

killer scary clown clip art (Google)

As opposed to the soft, gentle clown clip art that quietly lulls one to sleep.

romance fiction harlequins (Google)

Must be that "Bodice-Ripper" tag I added last week.

recipe for baked chicken breasts and cream cheese - Heloise column (MSN)

Show of hands: who thinks Heloise is a honky?

CHEKOVIAN LIFESTYLES (Google)

Coming soon to a newsstandski near you.

RuckSack HA White Cover (Capacity 90 Lit) (Yahoo)

Communicatrix.comâ„¢: home of all your camping and outdoor needs!

credit cards suck (Google Images)

Click. No, really, click.

heloise odor stinky toilet solutions (AOL)

When you're done with those chicken-'n'-cream cheese roll-ups...

xxx c

Have you missed List Wednesday? I know I have.

Things I've found so far during Project Apartment De-Grossify: 1. A manila envelope containing the Final Cut Pro discs I lost two years ago.

2. A bunch of those little rubber feet that go under printers, paper cutters and small household appliances.

3. Dirt. Lots and lots of dirt.

4. My college diploma*.

5. Extra (!) cords around my computer that plug into nothing.

6. communicatrix: The Benihana Years

7. One upside-down cockroach near the fridge (bleh...)

8. My grandfather's (unpublished) novel about the not-so-golden days of radio.

9. The antenna for my wireless router.

10. Jesus in a Tortilla**

xxx c

*Has anyone else had the balls to toss this? Talk about your expensive tchotchkes...

**Okay, since this was given to me by a client this week, I didn't really find it. But come on...you totally want one.

Searches, we get searchesâ„¢

And yea, with our holy Friday feature, Searchesâ„¢, do we put yet another medium-stinky week behind us. "on the seventh day, god created" (Google)

...the communicatrix. (A-fucking-men.)

pay scales for acting roles on hbo series (MSN)

Don't quit your day job.

busk katrina jokes (Yahoo)

Somehow, I don't think you're gonna get too many coins in the hat with this one, dude.

gay boy "washes his car" (Google)

Is that what they're calling it now?

vlog panties (Google)

Okay, there are officially too many blogs.

theater managment software (Dogpile)

Wait, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, okay, what was your question?

nicole richies diet (Google)

Breakfast: Double-nonfat latte, extra caf; half-grapefruit, pack of Salems. Mid-morning snack: pack of Salems Lunch: iceberg lettuce, no dressing; other half-grapefruit, half-pack Salems Mid-afternoon snack: Four deep-ish breaths. Dinner: Three shrimp; small filet mignon; Tab mojito Late-night snack: Half-apple, four Salems, Ex-Lax

slut of the day (Google)

Okay, that's it, I'm officially starting my campaign for the title. Michaaaaaaellllll?

How long did George Bush use Efudex (Google)

Not long enough to get rid of that big wart on his, oh, wait. Never mind...

yikes bi-focals 2005 (Google)

You're telling me, sister...

xxx c

What to bring to the bunker

There's been a lot of talk about earthquake preparedness in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, but precious little about Armageddon preparedness. And frankly, maybe it's time we all gave it some thought. After all, beacons of light and joy notwithstanding, there are still an awful lot of people whose words and actions (or lack thereof) are the equivalent of taping a giant "KICK ME, HARD!" sign to our big, fat, collective American ass. So lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking about caves. As in, "Honey, what should we bring to live in the cave after they blow up our big, fat, collective American ass?"

I'm pretty sure we'll need some kind of pedal-generator for power since the battery on my new iPod nano is only good for 14 hours, but other than that, what sort of items would be useful at the end of the world as we know it?

Here's my working list so far:

1. Water
2. Bourbon (small-batch)
3. Waterproof matches
4. Carton of Marlboro reds
5. Pringles, Sno-Caps and Space Food Sticks
6. Blankie
7. The BF
8. Extra-large bottle of sleeping pills
9. Second extra-large bottle of sleeping pills for The BF
10. That stack of New Yorkers I'm behind on to read until #8 & 9 kick in.

xxx c