Bassie: I think McDonald’s just gives out toys to try to trick people into eating unhealthy food.
Corporate America, you have met your undoing, and it is a five and three-quarter year old girl.
P.S. As I was writing this, I told Bassie I was writing about her comment about McDonald’s. She replied:
“You mean, when I asked what if there was nothing in the world to eat but McDonald’s, and then I said you would die?”
Bassie: 2; McDonald’s: 0.
Myself and Ms. X (to protect the guilty) are in the elevator at work.
Ms. X: I like your shoes.
Myself: Yeah, I have two pair of the same ones. You know, once you find a pair you like…
Elevator stops at 3th floor and picks up a passenger, Mr. Y.
Ms. X: Yeah, I really need to buy new clothes, but I’m doing some augmentation on my unit right now, so I have to wait.
Elevator opens at 4th floor and Mr. Y gets out. We continue to the 5th floor.
Myself: What are you talking about?!
Ms.: My condo, I’m getting work done on it.
Myself: Oh, okay, cause, just so you know, Mr. Y now thinks you’re a trannie.
I have a major one; on Olivia Munn. I mean, first of all, she’s beautiful and voluptuous, and, as yosefblog knows, I’m much more forgiving on the heavier side than on the skinnier side when it comes to female aesthetics. Not that she needs to ask for forgiveness, because she’s downright hot. And hilarious. And totally unashamed of being a really quirky, outgoing, tech savvy woman who just so happens to be gorgeous. Or a freaking gorgeous model/actress who happens to be really knowledgeable about technology. Either way, she could be a whole season of “Beauty and the Geek” in and of herself.
And so I join the ranks of the millions of computer geeks of the world who think they’ve died and gone to heaven. For real; like, I watch Attack of the Show late at night when there’s nothing else on, but when I could or should go to bed, just to watch her be ridiculously adorable (and show a tasteful yet alluring amount of cleavage; nice job, Wardrobe!). Why a charismatic, beautiful, and down-to-earth woman like Olivia doesn’t get more attention in the world beyond cable is beyond me.
The following is a dramatization of true events:
yosefblog: Hey, Eva Mendes worked out at my club today.
accidentalfeminist: Oh, wow. So, was she, like, hot?
yb: (pause) Yeah…yes she was.
af: She’s, like, supposed to be curvy; well, curvier than the average skinny Hollywood girl. Was she?
yb: She was pretty thin. I mean, the camera really does add ten pounds.
af: Oh, so she was too skinny?
yb: Oh, no, she was still hot.
af: But, not really hot, right?
yb: (Silence)
af: Oh.
Dina: I’m so tired of having to go to bed all the time.
Preach it, sister (read: daughter). That might possibly be the greatest benefit to being a cyborg. Note to mad scientist creating cyborg prototypes: please make sure to include the “sleepless energy regeneration” feature.
…Cause, honestly, I liked “Ready to Wear” and all, but I wasn’t really ever quite, let’s say, moved by any of the films he made in my R-rated movie-viewing lifetime. But this, this was…crazy. He takes a straight noir detective novel and adapts it into a dark tinsel-town farce. I don’t even know if that’s a genre (if it were, you might be able to put “The Player” in it) but it’s pretty awesome. And the whole “long goodbye” theme; honestly, I can’t say whether I would have been happier if I hadn’t known that **spoiler alert** (sort of, if you’re really picky and a total film snob)
the entire soundtrack was one song before I saw it, but it really was crazy. The switch from the car radio to the convenient store muzak had to have been the best. It actually sort of goes in waves: you hear it, then you hear it again, and again, then you can’t believe it’s just going to keep going like that, then you sort of get used to it, then Elliot Gould starts humming it out of the blue and it’s right in your face again and you’re like “Man! It’s still going”, then the cycle begins again.
I think I should probably see “M*A*S*H*” now, right?
I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be traumatizing, but really, it’s actually pretty awesome. Also, a tip, calling yourself your upcoming age up to three months before your birthday really eases the transition quite a bit. And I’m still the “youngest Mommy in 1st grade” (as per informal poll conducted by Bassie at Solomon Schechter Day School, who’s “pretty sure that the other moms are, like, all about 42 or something”.)
Also, thanks to stevereed for helping me come to the realization that I have been lucky enough to avoid the haunting ticking of my biological clock by having my kids pretty much as soon as I was fertile. So now I can just look forward to the day when the girls are old enough to take care of themselves while their supercoolawesome thirty-ish parents go out to a yuppie bar in whatever neighborhood will be gentrifying in 5-6 years, and don’t come home until, like, 1 AM. Yeah.
Rachael Ray at once symbolizes everything that’s wrong with our country, and everything that’s wrong with many of today’s so-called feminists. Some of the values she espouses that are poisoning our youth:
1. Quick and easy is just as good as patient and deliberate.
2. You don’t have to learn how to do something properly to teach others how to do it passably.
3. Celebrity trumps talent.
4. Sell your sexuality, not your skills. (ed- serious warning- these pictures are incredibly disturbing and fascinating…and sad; my favorite is the one where it looks like she has made no attempt to create a “sexy” or “skimpy” ensemble, but merely took off her shirt to expose her very plain black bra because the oven was so hot)
5. Tip like shit; if waiters wanted to make more money, they’d figure out a way to exploit themselves on cable.
thanks to yosefblog, an early adopter of “ray rage”, for the link!
Dina, pose for a picture? Never! (If by “never” you mean “at every opportunity”, even if she’s fully aware that you are using a fake camera and going “click” with your mouth). At any rate, check out these before and after shots:
When I work the girls this morning to the news that their Bubbie’s three duck eggs had hatched, they were beside themselves. Dina, the tough one, actually cried tears of joy. (Bassie was unimpressed. “I do that all the time, Dina!”) They’re both very excited, but Bassie has taken especially fondly to them. The seem to be imprinting on her, and she is encouraging it:
In addition to this exciting news, just look at how happy this bus is about the return of a 19th century std (thanks for the link, mirth!):
It’s a sunshine day! And by the way, Bassie is such a good duck mother, that she thinks she’s ready to be…a duck. Which is good, because I’d rather her be a duck than an unwed, five year old. albeit human, mother.
(yeah, I know, the formatting sucks here. that’s what happens to me when yosefblog goes out of town. help me, protagonist!)
