Skyping Your Heart Out

What you have just feasted your eyes upon is virtual love in its most raw, beautiful and extremely complicated form. In order for the crooning of this classic love ballad to take place Franz had to travel on foot through the icy Austrian streets to his local school house at 4 am, log onto Skype and await the response to his call from his one true love, MR Wyatt. This is creepy enough. But it gets better, MR Wyatt luckily has every form of modern entertainment/communication device known to man and was able to clandestinely film the entire performance as it streamed through the skype internet lines to her macbook via her blackberry storm. She then emailed this file to my blackberry world edition and I was able to post it via blog for your viewing pleasure.

Sheeesh! I pine for the days when proclaimations of love were made by throwing stones at your sweethearts bedroom window to awaken her so that you could bring the glad tidings of l'amore. Things have gotten complicated. Even I am twittering, gchatting, black berry messaging and emailing while blogging this.

But in less than 10 days time, we will break free from the vice hold technology has on us and come face to face with the organic, living, breathing Franz.

Franz is truly a stand out American. One of the great thinkers of our generation, Franz departed to serve the global culture of intellectual thought for these long icy wintery months by imparting his boundless knowledge upon the future of Austria. And upon the supple minds of the children of Waidhofen an der Ybbs in particular. But his tour of duty is coming to a close and he is returning to his adoring fan base in Washington next Friday evening. Everyone is so delighted by this prospect, it outshines Christmas and our birthdays combined... and almost outshines the release of Twilight the movie. Almost. I am wholeheartedly confident that he will tease us, unease us all the better just to please us.

I know all of you out there not lucky enough to be in DC are green with envy that you wont be spending the weekend with this stone cold fox. I'll be sure to blog about the finer moments of his visit. But that still wont be the same as being here. In the words of Franz...

YOU WIIIISSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Hott Verbiage of the Day

Bear fight. And no I do not speak about the brown grizzlies of Northern Alaska. The ultimate concoction that will fulfill you with unequivocal tenacity, strength, confidence and endurance. An excellent tribute to St. Patty's but ultimately an all-season experience. This mastery of skill will make bystanders look at you with pure admiration. What is it exactly? The fluid repetition of conquering both an Irish car bomb and jaeger bomb back-to-back as if ingesting a singular drink. Thus, the brown and black 'bears' battle it out so to speak in one's stomach which has since been transitioned into a metaphorical Yellowstone National Park. Just one piece of advice-- no matter how rigorous the battle, keep it in the cave.

Alert: You are being PLAYED

Ok, let me just say, WOOF! Do NOT buy this shoe!!! You'll thank me later. You are being seriously taken for a ride by the fashion industry.

I know, I know, your thinking I am always bitching because Washington is a style vacuum but as it turns out I can be just as caustic about the women in fashion-precocious cities for their one night stands with random trends that they inevitably never call for a second date... because in the cruel morning light, that trend turned out to be a real dog.

Anyway, I think the fashion pledge-masters saw this recession as an opportunity to cultivate couture that is so offensively unflattering that even if we still had the cash to blow on 795 dollar gladiator sandals, we wouldnt. (because we are glad we dont have pediatric disabilities that force us to bind our feet in these satanic contraptions). Seriously Shopbop.com, a place I once revered as a short list of fashion do's is now so unrecognizable that I literally thought I had accidentally clicked on a website that sells leg braces for children with polio. The very reason women's shoes do not look like men's shoes is so that we can make our legs look sexy. Sorry to be so pre-suffrage but it is the truth. Now you go try on a flat footed black leather studded strappy/dominatrix leg brace to the knee and tell me if you look sexy or suddenly ten pounds heavier and like a bull dike from the time of the Vikings mixed with Forrest Gump at age 7.

These shoes take the Oscar for best leading actress in an Ugliness Competition. If I were in charge of Osama Bin Laden's punishment once he is captured, I would force him to do runway shows for the rest of his life span wearing nothing but these shoes. If someone ressurected Hitler, I would also expect him to do this. Gladiator Shoes are to High Heels what Depends are to the Thong. Every "your mom is so fat" joke applies to these shoes. No, wait... every dead baby joke applies to these monstrosities. I used to make fun of women in plaid shirts, leather leggings, jumpsuits and vests. But I take it all back. I am devoting my hatred of unflattering fashions 100% to gladiator braces.

I really cant figure out how anyone thought these shoes were a good idea. And at 800 dollars a pop, If i see anyone actually wearing these shoes I cannot promise that I wont hurl myself at her and engage in physical combat.

I am seething with excitement for the day this fall when I get to waltz into Barney's coop and see those godforsaken gladiator sandals on the sale rack, still available in every size... reduced, nay SLASHED down from $795 to $69.99. Although on second thought, by fall they will have probably started pushing some new sort of shoe so ugly that my brain cannot even predict its ferocity.... and fur lined jumpsuits for cool weather... oh god. *I would make a Snuggie reference here, about how according to the imbeciles that make the decisions around here, it is probably the fashion of the future, but i refuse to honor it with that amount of attention*

Anyway. Now that I have told you how much Hot People Do Not Like these shoes, tune in soon to be treated to something so unbelievably hot-people-worthy that you will literally go into catatonic shock from the exuberant brilliance of its majestic presence.... field reporter MR Wyatt has been recording footage of the hottest men on the east coast. She has found the winner and his audition video will be revealed in the days to come. Stay posted.

Noteworthy Nuggets of Practical Information

Enough slogging, I'm bringing spicy back. A series of busy and pathetic excuses (namely twilight) have kept me away from edamame in our virtually verbal relationship and she has single-handedly kept this proverbial titanic afloat in dedication to all ten of our fans. 

A few noteworthy issues to speak:

1. Lindsay Lohan has self-sufficiently launched her next pivotal stroke of genius. No it is not another faultless attempt on the big screen, a lesbian threesome, or even designer leggings but a line of SELF-TANNER. That's right, Lilo is an American pioneer. First to shoot double imaging in her masterpiece portrayal of Hayley Mills in the Parent Trap, Lindzz is nothing but original. (Many argue that she only took on two roles in this flick, however, if you recall she actually played four-- American girl, British girl, American girl pretending to be British, British girl pretending to be American.) And from experience, the third role is most challenging as I (along with Miss Cogar) tend to take this on quite often. Most commonly while combining vodka sodas with public appearance.

But lets get back to the real issue here. Taking tanning advice from Lilo is like taking diet tips from Kirstie Alley (see above for Lindsay's even and totally genuine "glow"). And yet she is determined to paint the town orange. 

I think the best part of this entrepreneurial episode is that she ingeniously tagged the product "Sevin Nyne", a play on her favorite numbers. Which let's face it, I thought were "Sicksty Nyne." Perhaps she got confused. 

And while I do not plan to patronize this particular bronzing stimulant (I dare you, Kay), I cannot hide my true feelings for LL. Ultimately the way Edamame's mother feels about her canines teeth brushing regiment, I feel about La Lohan. J'adore the whore. 

2. This weekend we had the uncanny opportunity to run into Leah from Top Chef. While most bystanders would typically let any unassuming reality star be left alone, our friend Dargan decided to eloquently rush up to her screaming "Leahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!! OMG OMG LEAHH!... are you still with Josea????!" Of course the answer was "I can't comment, but yes." So there you have it, straight from the source. Thank you miss dargan for exposing US weekly-quality information on what otherwise would have been a mundane Saturday afternoon. 

3. Now correct me if I'm wrong but I thought we were in a recession. My favorite shoe store has closed, the stock market is in the toilet, I'm even noticing less kebab stands. And yet there is one unusual retail venue that seems to be prevailing through it all. Babeland. The Neiman Marcus of self pleasure devices taking up prime real estate in not one but two locations in nyc. This is not only a mystery but as seemingly deceptive as the elliptical calorie counter. And yet I can only think of one logical answer: closet masturbators. 

Upon closer inspection and a close support group, we decided to take a peek and figure out how this business model was surviving. Despite the over-the-top sales pitch and how-to guide as performed on employees own hand, it was difficult to wait the five minutes before sprinting out of the store in hysterics. I'm glad were so mature. But really, who is patronizing this place besides bachelorette parties, LL, Sam Ronson, and Maggie Nugent? Certainly gives a whole new meaning to the term economic stimulus package...

4. Congratulations 'mame on your hand modeling career. I hope it is more successful than Lilo's self- tanner. Plan to receive the ultimate parafin/moisturizing package from yours truly. And if youre lucky, an edible arrangement (ps i found the headquarters and source of EA in the west village this weekend!!!)

Opportunity Is Knocking

Today my 23 year long professional dry-spell has come to a sudden halt. After literally tearing my hair out since mid-December of '06 that I would never find a viable career post graduation I am finally greeted by the welcoming, open arms of employment and justification for existence. Thank you, God.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, opportunity is knocking and don't bother getting up, I'll get the door. No, I am not being rewarded with a job because of my standout performance at one of America's finest small private liberal arts universities or for my ability to nail an interview or present a flawless resume chalk full of summer internships and letters of recommendation. No, the world is not recognizing me for my performance in the business arena or for my credibility in an academic setting. In fact, no one is remotely interested in hiring me for anything having to do with my brain.

I am going to be a Hand Model. Its true. I was approached this morning in our office kitchen and asked if I would be the model for our upcoming photo shoot for some print ad's. A hand model that is. This is my dream come true. I am already doing hand exercises at my desk - the shoot is on the 24th so that gives me a paltry 12 days to get these phalanges whipped into shape! And my new job comes with perks.... thats right, I get to get a manicure on the agency tab. Jealous?????? I thought so.

And they say we're in a recession and new jobs are completely extinct. Please... I got a job by doing nothing but hanging out and being awesome. Man, what a high. Feel free to send letters of congratulations, bottles of champagne, and bouquets of flowers to:
3 Bethesda Metro Center
Bethesda MD 20814

Bye Bye Meat

2009

1501

Tonight I have consumed both funfetti cake and espresso brownies in honor of the birth of one of America's most supremely divine beings - Ida McMaster. And now feeling not unlike an inflated beach ball or perhaps the way the octo-mom felt around 40 weeks, I would like to address the issue of Bye Bye Meat. Or in laymen's terms: arm fat. 

Dictionary Definition of Bye Bye Meat: noun. Colloquial synonym for arm fat named after the flapping of the repository for excess deposit of love handles which migrates to the space between elbow and shoulder on all females 21 years of age and older while they wave their arm in the traditional western gesture of "Bye bye!" Develops proportionately to age and consumption of beer. Cannot be cured by natural practices. Invasive surgery may temporarily decrease evidence of the BBM.

Now I know you all thought that BBM was created by Verizon as an instant communication tactic for the already text-addicted generation we are a part of but infact BBM has existed for CENTURIES if not since the dawn of time, although no pictorial representation is available to shed light on when the epidemic broke out prior to the spread of naturalism of representation in art. It was particularly dangerous and prevalent in the time of the old masters (before the elliptical and amstel light were invented), as BBM is abundantly represented in all portraiture of women from this period. (See upper right of post for an excellent anatomical representation of arm fat by Giorgione)

But unlike the black death, death in child birth and crooked teeth among other maladies of the scientifically stunted past, BBM has yet to be out-witted. It is still a mysterious degenerative condition that is inescapable for approximately 49% of the worlds population in 2009. (the lucky bastards that are not in the high risk demographic are men - 50% and supermodels - 1%). While it is not fatal like bubonic plague, it is equally as unflattering. Its onset is unpredictable, but experts agree that it develops most aggressively around the time that female humans have reached physical maturity (or discover beer and funfetti). Once the female develops traces of BBM one of two things immediately occur:

1. she notices the new found flab and aggressively devotes the next fifty years of her life to yoga, free weights, water aerobics etc. and eventually ends up with muscles that inevitably will turn into dangling BBM flaps that tremble in the breeze. (See Madonna in 3 years)

2. she does not notice the trace levels of BBM rising and eventually develops full on BBM syndrome which can never be resolved or removed. and must resort to the ever-cringe-worthy...

HAND ON HIP POSE (See entire facebook community)

the Hand on Hip Pose represented above in the upper left of this post is to date the only viable solution to avoiding upper-body fatness being tagged all over the internet and disseminated to everyone you went to preschool with. Unfortunately while we are all desperately devoted to using the HOH, many of us have no idea how to casually execute it and most of us end up merely drawing attention to our nervous fear of exposing BBM instead of our goal of masking its presence. 

A failed HOH is most noticeable if the girl is arching her back or looks unmistakably self aware of how awkward she is being. Successful HOH's occur when the girl holds a drink to distract from why she is randomly cocking her arm at a 90% angle just because she got saddled with being on the "end" of the picture.

However then we are faced with the issue of tackiness. Is it tacky to be drinking in pictures? Which is worse - being tacky or being fat? Should we perhaps carry Perrier or Smart Water in our purses to whip out if we hear the mechanical buzz of a cannon powershot elf coming to life to do battle against our flawed limbs? That way we could be ready and holding a socially non-tacky item that disguises BBM and reminds everyone that our arms are so slender thanks to a diet of sparkling water, steamed vegetables and raw almonds.

You may think I'm obsessing but in this digi crazed world that we live in you can not be too aware of your BBM. You barely return home from events before they are spelled out minute by minute in facebook albums for all to see. And we're not even famous. Well, your not. I am the author of this blog afterall...

Anyway, in closing, BBM is here to stay. Hopefully soon a safe, non invasive laser surgery will be readily available on par with Botox to help curb BBM at long last. But until then, keep casually inching towards the middle of group pictures and buy a good pashmina. 

ps. The Man in the right of that picture also appears to be doing the HOH, but i think that may just be part of the LGBT officially sanctioned photographing pose.