Vlogging.

Remember when Christina and I were going to start vlogging? No? Well, I can't remind you, since I pulled the post asking for special vlogging requests because Christina chickened out because she "doesn't want her face and her voice on the Internet together," or something equally lameassed. Then she told me she'd only do it if she could have a hand-puppet play her, but that didn't happen because she didn't want to use just a sock and is too lazy to put the effort into making a sock puppet that looks like her, especially if it's something for MY benefit.

It was suggested that she vlog as her Bea Arthur puppet, but then I realized I'm not that ghey.

Today on Videogum, Lindsay challenged Gabe to create a vlog. And I think it's safe to say that I no longer have the desire or energy to add anything to the VLOGISPHERE. (See what I did there?)

I am a good friend.

I don't have anything to say about myself today (sorry, everyone!), so here's a little FUN NEWS that my Chicago readers can take advantage of:

TONIGHT! Come see Attila at the CORNservatory. That's right, there's a THEATRE called the CORNservatory! Like CONservatory but with an extra R, which makes it kinda punny!


Bless their hearts!

If you didn't know already, my roommate / life-partner Christina is in Attila and she, along with the rest of the gang, is a goddamn delight. So if you want to laugh a lot, you should come at 10:30. Tickets are ten bucks, but it's not too pricey if you consider that it's BYOB! So bring a bottle of Yellow Tail. Or two! Everything will be really hilarious if you bring two!

There will most likely be a lot of cleavage, as well:

Just sayin'.

And if you need something funny and adorable to tie you over for the rest of the day, watch this:

Don't Sass the Bass Player: a note about commenting.

After off-line comments from friends (namely Christina and Adam), I turned off the comment moderation on my blog. That means anyone can comment and I'll let it go, unless the comment is really, really bad and deserves deletion. It's a lot easier than having comments sit in my inbox for hours (ha, what a white whine).

Christina is already excited:


Oh, and I thank her for allowing me to segue into this video, which we cackled over in separate rooms last night (just like we would if we were married. Zing!):

"Why do only creepy guys like me? Just sum it up for me... in a way that sounds a lot like the truth... but not as harsh."
--Christina










Christina: "What are you doing on Valentine's Day?"
Me: "Being alone. But with you!!"

These are inside jokes in the forms of pictures that I would leave on Christina's MySpace page if she hadn't deleted her account.

This just took place on GChat:

The Way I Are.

Christina told me last night that after re-watching Pee-Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special (1988), she discovered why she feels like a gay man trapped in a young woman's body (culturally speaking, of course). To make her point, she told me to find this video, which features Grace Jones singing "The Little Drummer Boy."



Personally, I blame her parents for letting her watch so many reruns of The Love Boat, but who am I to judge?

We also spent about an hour on YouTube watching old Sesame Street clips. I told her that this video explains why I am who I am:



"What child gets excited about all of those celebrity cameos?" she asked. Clearly, that child was me; I loved Rhea Perlman and Danny DeVito.


An aside: my father still loves "Put Down the Duckie."

And I realized my hatred for a capella stems from these dudes:



UGH HATE.

I have a couple of other favorite Sesame clips, such as this one where Patti Labelle sings "How I Miss My X."



Do you see what they did there?

And finally, I've always wanted to be this little girl's BFF:

Inflatable Christmas decorations.

My roommate Christina (say it with me folks: "WHY DON'T I HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!") won this yesterday at her work holiday party:

If you can't tell, it's an inflatable limbo set. The elfin child was not included.

There are no seamless transitions here.

Last night I was watching The Devil Wears Prada on HBO. My rationale behind it was "because it was on," which is why last week I watched Rumor Has It and Big Mama's House 2. (We're not going to have cable in the new apartment, so I might as well live it up.) It was the second time I saw the movie (I blogged about it before), but I have some thoughts about it after a repeated viewing.

First of all, Anne Hathaway's friends are losers and she should not have felt bad about ditching them for a shitty, yet ultimately rewarding, job. Her boyfriend was a CHEF and ADRIAN GRENIER. And then she had one black friend (the black woman from Rent) and one gay friend. Her obvious social ineptitude, of course, is just one clue that "Andy," the small-town Midwestern girl with a boy's name who has the audacity to think she's special enough to make it in Manhattan by not playing the game like everyone else, is an incredibly disposable character. I would have rather seen anyone other than Anne Hathaway as the lead but, now that I recognize that the character is basically unlikable in the first place, it makes sense that she's there.

My favorite part of the movie has to be when Anne Hathaway goes to pick up some pictures from a photo shoot. In the scene there are about six or seven models wearing animal print and plastic animal masks. And she gets all excited and says, "Oh, I get it! I get it! It's called 'Urban Jungle!'" How the hell did this bitch get into Northwestern? Congratulations, "Andy;" you've figured out juxtaposition. We'll get to "dichotomy" later.

And what, exactly, is the appeal of Anne Hathaway? I can't imagine who would find her attractive. Julie Klausner put it best in this video: "[She] looks like someone Xeroxed a face onto a head that was too small for it." It makes sense, then, that the two men who are attracted to her are the previously mentioned Adrian Grenier (huge Jewfro, stupid face) and Simon Baker, who looks like he's ready to date-rape at any moment.

I got ahead of myself, honestly, because I was really going to relate a brief exchange that Christina and I had while watching the movie, but it's one of those things where it's probably not funny to anyone other than me and Christina. (But hey, I didn't really have anything to say today, so eh.) Christina and I were agreeing on how dumb the movie basically is, despite Meryl Streep desperately trying to save it by acting circles around everyone else. When Simon Baker came on screen, probably somewhere near the scene where Anne Hathaway has to get he seventh Harry Potter book for Meryl Streep's daughters (sidenote: another reason why the dumb bitch was an idiot. You quit your job after working that hard? You were REWARDED with a trip to France, but Miss I-was-the-editor-of-the-Northwestern-newspaper thinks she's better than the woman who RUNS VOGUE RUNWAY?), I said, "I hate him, too," meaning in addition to everyone else in this movie. Christina's eyes got really big and said, "Did you just say that out loud? I just thought, 'I hate him,' but I didn't say it." I had to crush her and say, no, we haven't gotten to the point where I'm reading your thoughts; it's just save to say that anyone I associate with would have a rational hatred for this guy.

All hopes for BFF ESP were dashed, unfortch, when Christina locked herself out of the apartment last night and had to sleep in the hallway like a common homeless person when I slept through her calling my phone and banging on our door.

But I'm sure she did it with more class than Anne Hathaway would. (Full circle! Right, guys?)

You did it!

I'd like to dedicate this congratulatory post to my roommate Christina "WHY DON'T I HAVE A BOYFRIEND?" Boucher, who managed to make it to Valentine's Day before I could come up with one hundred reasons why she didn't have a boyfriend.

I could only think of ninety.