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February 28, 2004
scrotum au pair
If you don't find this hilarious, you absolutely can't be my friend. Stop. listen here, here or here. Partial lyrics of Howard Kramer's raptastic "nut valet" stylings can be found below. I met a couple girls one was hot was one not This situation seems to happen quite a lot. I bet you think I want to bounce with the one that’s fine I bet you think I wanna get her to leave the stray behind. But listen up y’all There’s another way to do it I’ll lay it down for ya And y’all can go to it There’s no need to ditch the B team to bring on the A Invite her along to be a nut valet A nut valet, what’s that you said? A something that’ll make you go Whooooooo Kind if like a servant, kind of like a maid that performs a certain function while you’re gettin laid. To attend to the nuts To attend to the stones Because it just ain’t right to leave them boys alone… So put her on the wazzit tunes Kinda like a DJ I said, won’t you be my nut valet? Oh yeah... Won’t you be my nut valet? I don’t mean to offend But that way you can participate while I bang your friend It’s an honest days work It’s a worthy task And you’ll have a great view back there by my ass That’ll be your detail baby That’ll be your station baby Want me in your friend baby Have intimate relations. You’ll be doing her a favor Cause it adds to my elation Can’t you see that this adds up to be a win-win situation? Besides don’t feel badly when you here at the bar Besides y’all probably came in the same car. I know you want me for yourself But since that ain’t gonna happen Let your fingers do the walking and tickling and tapping. And get on the whazzit tunes Kinda like the DJ I said won’t you be my nut valet? A nut valet a ball attendant a handy woman a sack superintendent. Yeah you might not want her She might not want you But that don’t mean she that can’t contribute It’s plain to see that you’re a woman of refinement That’s why you should choose to accept this assignment…Posted by Moxie at 7:25 AM | Comments (14)
February 27, 2004
blogopoly
Short post. Sorry. Check out Aaron's blogopoly. I'm a piece....of ass ;)Posted by Moxie at 1:12 AM | Comments (6)
February 26, 2004
Hypocrisy or change of heart?
A few days ago I saw Molly Shannon jogging. She wasn't wearing a Catholic schoolgirl skirt or sniffing her hands after sticking them under her armpits. They say you should put your money where your mouth is; or in other words don’t reap benefits from someone, something or some company whose mode of business doesn't command your respect. Support causes you believe in 100%. To the rest say f*ck you and keep your money in your pocket. Terry Kerry, (not to be confused with Cheri Oteri) wife of Presidential hopeful John “Franken” Kerry blasts Wal-Mart and yet as recently as 2002 added bulk to her now $1 million dollar stock holdings of the very same company. This reminds me of her Beau’s inconsistent stance on tax cuts, NAFTA, the Patriot Act and Saddam Hussein. It does seem like attracts like. HYPOCRISY Pronunciation: hi-'pä-kr&-sE also hI- Function: noun Inflected Form(s): plural -sies Etymology: Middle English ypocrisie, from Old French, from Late Latin hypocrisis, from Greek hypokrisis act of playing a part on the stage, hypocrisy, from hypokrinesthai to answer, act on the stage, from hypo- + krinein to decide -- more at CERTAIN 1 : a feigning to be what one is not or to believe what one does not; especially : the false assumption of an appearance of virtue or religion 2 : an act or instance of hypocrisyPosted by Moxie at 11:51 PM | Comments (7)
February 25, 2004
Carnival of the FrankenKerry extra chromosome
That post no one got? You know, about bending a magazine photo of FrankenKerry -- and seeing he still had no grasp of the imminent threat of terrorism? Listening or looking at him showed nothing except for chronic "looking like someone who could drop dead of Kennedy-wanna-be-ism" or seek political asylum in France at any given moment... Yep, that very post is part of the 75th Carnival of the Vanities over at my favorite Goddess' place. Go check out the others...always fun, always good and low in fat, carbs and things that will NOT make your scrotum shrivel. (still not interested? See boobies and bras over there. I can not tell a lie)Posted by Moxie at 3:52 AM | Comments (6)
February 24, 2004
perplexed in the city
Some time ago, I had dinner with a friend and Peter Brady.
But don't hate me because I've dined with a Brady.
In between people interrupting dinner by asking him about the Brady Bunch, some asshole at the table behind me was pushing his chair back into mine.
With my gut already squeezed to the table's edge so I could hardly breathe -- I cleared my throat -- and being a strong-willed bitch I pushed my chair back against his. Our heads turned, he apologized and I saw his face.
Mr. Big.
THE Mr. Big.
There's a nice quote from "The Evening Star" a mediocre sequel to Terms of Endearment. Shirley MacLaine tells it like it is, "Men come and go, but if you're lucky, the good ones come and go several times."
Key word being "go."
There was nothing more predictable, cliché and unimaginative than Carrie ending up with Big.
I hate when everything gets tied up into neat little packages. Where's the fun?
Ostensibly, the re-entrance and exit is crucial to an epic and interesting storyline -- look at the soap operas where the same two characters marry and divorce 42.5 times in the span of 30 years. And those shows are still on the air, unlike many.
It's depressing that the Sex and the City series finale was also the worst episode ever written.
Oh and just wait we also have Friends - Ross and Rachel's reunion to look forward to in just a few episodes.
Teevee seems to be written for the lowest common denominator. It's all about feeding the maw.
But romance rarely works the way we want it to, no matter what your demographic.
We all have our Big's.
And we all hope that one day, he'll come back, whether it's ultimately the right thing in the end.
It's funny how we want a happy ending in real life but cry out in protest when we see it on teevee.
Posted by Moxie at 9:20 PM | Comments (12)
February 21, 2004
I get tired sometimes
Tonight a man I know well asked me how I could support George Dubya -- silly question -- and if I DID had I read Michael "constant ding-dong masticator" Moore's books. Oh the gospel of lies and ignorance. I laughed. Hard and long. It gets tiresome arguing with the idiotic bleeding heart liberals, but I found this quote emailed in his own defense of questionable value to the liberal perspective: "Naturally the common people don't want war... But after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament or a communist dictatorship... All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country." --Hermann Goring, Adolf Hitler's second in command. Sounds a lot like what Chirac and France are doing to the UN, n'est pas? They must have taken lessons from Hitler. This is exactly why I am not with the emailer anymore and in pursuit of the hot single guy in LA who likes Bush and supported the war. Thank gawd that exists, I wondered for quite some time.Posted by Moxie at 9:29 PM | Comments (34)
more boring administrative crap
I'm setting up my blogroll...have added a few and will be adding more over the course of the weekend. Again, if you have recently perma-linked me leave a message so I can add you. If you aren't on there, simmer down. You will be!Posted by Moxie at 12:59 PM | Comments (12)
February 20, 2004
do not drink this entry
Had to run to the Rite-aid. Outside a nice guy offered to wash the go-cart's windows. They were dirty so I thought I'd help him out.
I gave him 5 bucks. Best conversation I've had all day. And my car windows are sparkling.
Posted by Moxie at 9:40 PM | Comments (6)
fini
Sometimes I just plain give up. It’s not in my nature to cave, but I know a closed door when I see one. A door that tells me everything I do is wrong. Even when I’m sure it’s the right door. Moxie: Knock knock. Door: You vicious bitch!!! Your syncopation was all wrong. Intentions mean nothing. A memo went out to all people that might encounter me – it instructed them to mess with Moxie this week – didn’t you get it? You should have. Every one did. I. Give. Up.Posted by Moxie at 2:13 AM | Comments (17)
February 17, 2004
use it or lose it
Normal looking women can always find some “flaw” in the visage of a model. Though airbrushed and well-coated in makeup, it’s “look…her nose is kind of crooked if you bend the magazine!” It’s hard to feel sorry for the Democrats when you see them shouting or whining that the incumbent isn’t worthy of a second term because he'll most likely wipe up the oval office bathroom with all that money John Kerry's wife has spent. Haven’t you heard from your neighborhood bleeding-heart lobomite that the man who decades ago recalled seeing the President on National Guard duty was actually in a different state at the time? That guy either got the date wrong (how long ago was that? Where were YOU on any given day 20 years ago...) or had some damn good eyesight. Either way, the Dems are bitching and moaning about things that in 2000 didn’t stop Dubya from beating the Vice President and inventor of the internet. Of course they are, they’ve got nothing else to complain about. The economy is stronger than it has been in recent history and Bush seems to come up with these 20 billion dollar projects each and every week. And why shouldn’t he? “Yes, let’s go to the moon, start some new and costly programs and oh – guess what? I’m putting all this stuff on Hilary’s tab.” Why would any incumbent want to leave a good financial situation when the office would ostensibly change hands -- let the other party deal with the mess, afterall they get hard just thinking about raising taxes. When I had an expense account and an amount of free money I’d lose if I didn’t spend it that quarter, you could find my team out for a night of dinner and drinks. At the most expensive hot-spot in town. Today I bent a magazine photo of Kerry and it looked like he had an extra chromosome. And then I looked at it properly. Same conclusion.Posted by Moxie at 9:32 PM | Comments (20)
February 14, 2004
Annual post...
me and my funny valentine
Posted by Moxie at 1:34 AM | Comments (10)
February 13, 2004
piece of shit car
Now that I'm in my thirties, I mostly go out with men not boys and whether or not they own a car -- they can all drive legally.
Was taking an evening walk, movement seems to help. I saw some piece of shit car that dropped dead in the middle of a residential side street.
A rather svelte man was trying to steer and push the few tons of useless metal all at the same time.
He looked at me and I looked at him.
It was dark and I'm medicated.
"Oh fuck me," he said.
A car was approaching and the headlights also were in the non-functioning mode.
I stopped dead in my tracks not so much because of what he said but because I always like to help out with car related matters.
Being in the state I'm in, I figured it was best to keep moving.
A few blocks later, I didn't want to walk too far nor cross a busy street without a traffic light so I turned around and continued my power walk on the same path I had taken.
Broken car guy had recruited a kindly stranger. One man was steering and pushing and the other was pushing on the bumper.
The svelte guy, ostensibly the owner of the heap of junk waved.
I waved back.
owner of broken down car:
Hey, I couldn't help but notice you. Would you like to go out with me tonight?
moxie:
some other time. there's a AAA garage a few blocks down, btw.
owner of broken down car:
Oh stop it. Go out with me. I'm driving!
moxie:
It's tempting... that IS a hot rod you've got there.
owner of broken down car:
come on!! let's go...hop in baby...
moxie:
I'm sorry -- it's not you, it's me
owner of broken down car:
what do you mean?
moxie:
Doesn't seem like your equipment is functioning...
owner of broken down car:
Ouch. How can you tell that from way over there?
like here on moxie, everything is brewed fresh daily
Posted by Moxie at 5:28 AM | Comments (12)
February 12, 2004
mothers and children, from there it goes into the abyss
They say that a Mother personally feels her child's pain...
Apparently that statement is only true for the first 32.01 years of life. Either that or 6 days after a surgery.
Everyone I know, including dear old Mom is beyond tired of hearing how I'm in pain.
For the f'ing record -- I'm gawd damn tired of admitting to constant agony and pretending that everything is fine.
Over two and a half weeks of excruciating "discomfort" prior to surgery and now 6 days after...more of the same. I'm ready for the end of the movie.
How people get addicted to vicodin is beyond me, it doesn't even begin to scratch that deep itch. It's a Flintstone's vitamin for glass bones.
While I was driving this afternoon I was thinking in French.
Answering my own questions in French. Singing Outkast en francais.
And making sense. Mostly. Could have typed this whole entry in French and I've always been a less than apt pupil with my anti-war-ese.
FUCK.
FUCK.
FUCK.
You know it's bad when a Republican starts thinking in the International Language of "Oh-we'll-pass-on-this-war-against-an-evil-dictator-but we know-you'll-still-bail us-out if-in-imminent-danger of-being-invaded."
I'm no stranger to pain -- after 20+ years of ballet (many with the New York City Ballet's School) -- I'm still sitting here bawling my eyes out in the wee hours of the morning.
- Crying just because it's a distraction and the nerves in my jaw hurt less when water is flowing from eyeballs.
- Crying because I have to work in a few hours.
- Crying because I want someone to hold me and brush the hair off my forehead
- Crying because life really sucked for a damn long time.
- Crying because my neighbor told me tonight she would have brought me homemade soup had she known I was getting teeth yanked last Friday. And she really would have. I have the greatest neighbors.
- Crying because I hate Punch Drunk Love.
- Crying because I love the Dandy Warhol's, Tsar (my favorite band) and the last RHCP CD.
- Crying because I've played strong all week and fate has ganged up on me and is applying the smack-down.
- Crying because I took a bunch of meds and I'm still aching and awake.
- Crying just because it hurts less than not crying.
- Crying because I'm not sure this entry will even make sense, or if by some divine intervention it does -- no one will comment.
If any of my 10 readers out there happens to be in charge of the universe....
PLEASE, no more "feel better" comments. I need distractions.
PLEASE just less pain.
I could punch myself in the face multiple times and it would feel a great deal *better*....or at least it'd be a different, distracting kind of pain. Which would be much welcomed.
Then again I'd likely be arrested for domestic self-battery. Hitting the one last sympathetic person who loves you is a crime.
Not that it needs to be said but being popped in the jaw is so much better than hearing that Stacy's mom has got it goin' on...en Espanol.
J'aime beets werkin
Posted by Moxie at 6:16 AM | Comments (30)
February 11, 2004
feeling human again
Posted by Moxie at 1:19 AM | Comments (9)
February 9, 2004
occupational hazards
Contrary to popular belief it's not easy to be a runway model.
Sure, you are already more beautiful than god and drunk and whatever but then someone picks out your clothing for you. They apply your makeup flawlessly and fix your hair to a level of perfection never known naturally to womankind.
But you do have to be able to walk. In high heels.
And never. ever. fall. down.
When do you fall down you can't look shocked like this model. She knows her career is over and it's back to modeling for the Sears Catalog and Target inserts in the Sunday Paper. If she's lucky Issac Mizrahi will give her a disgusted nod for his super-chic (read: cheap) line.
But it's not easy to walk upright when the get-ups that are selected for you are so hot-n-sexy you consider becoming a lesbian just so you can make out with yourself.
Back in the day when I modeled for Wiener Schnitzel, I had to talk the talk and walk the walk. Week in and week out, Paris, Milan, New York, Des Moines.
Sure, I was pitted against well established runway hotties like "Ronald McDonald" -- always a crowd favorite, especially when accompanied by that purple obese midget. The "Burger King" also highly paid was really a big old queen and damn proud of his backstage gropings with the invisible Carl's jr model. Not to mention that round headed bastard Jack in the Box -- he was earning top dollar to model the latest in fast food. I think it was the box reference. Men love that.
But being the wiener schnitzel model and that hot dog costume got me all the high-class wieners any girl could possibly desire.
I miss those days.
That's the vicodin speaking. Make your jokes...it's okay. Really.
more sober than I: mlah
Posted by Moxie at 7:42 PM | Comments (14)
still recovering
The surgery went well, but I'm swollen and grumpy. Please feel free to talk amongst yourselves.Posted by Moxie at 9:43 AM | Comments (13)
February 2, 2004
just being practical
It's pouring down rain here for only the second time this winter. We need the rain and my car needs to be washed. Washed thoroughly, not rinsed gently. Driving home I realized the rain had the same power as that of the high powered rinse at the local self car wash stall. Only thing missing? Soapy suds. An umbrella, two drops of liquid detergent, a soft rag and all the rain Los Angeles can provide has promised me a nice clean go-cart tomorrow. My friend thinks that makes me crazy, I think it was the practical thing to do. But then again I always feel like an observer in my life. Like a terrible student film that's on repeat and I can't find the button on the remote to turn the damn thing off once and for all. time for your meds!Posted by Moxie at 10:18 PM | Comments (19)
A hawk in dove's clothing
All of my Liberal friends try to convince me I am just like them.
I'm not.
Most of my friends, associates and neighbors are Liberals.
And I love how they (who are not close to me) assume because I am capable of keeping my yap shut about politics that I am a liberal Democrat like them. What other choice is there in their minds? Surely because I'm cool enough I couldn't be the spawn of satan.
I live in Los Angeles and have no visible horns protruding.
And yet other's who know me better claim I've had too much hair color and bleach applied to my luscious locks to be a bona-fide member of the VRWC. We already know Republican women can't tend to their looks....right? right? right?
To all that I say bullshit.
Opposing viewpoints is a way of life for me, it's a positive nine times out of ten. Politics don't prevent me from doing business.
So, how about hearing this in a corporate meeting:
"It's not like we'd ever want to do business with some freak who supports Bush or that war we waged against poor Saddam."
{Yes, poor Saddam, he didn't get to kill all the Kurds. Just 50,000 or so.}
Meanwhile, one of the people they are confiding in is one Republican girl who happens to adore George W. I suppose sometimes it's a good thing to be a wolf in sheep's clothing as my friends have suggested.
I don't make or break relationships, personal or otherwise based on politics or world views. Despite some serious doubts I still believe people are inherently good.
Just because one likes lower taxes, guns and people who don't kill babies just because it's "convenient" doesn't make someone a freak.
If those things makes one a Republican, that's just fine by me. It's a label I'm proud of.
on a different note: PM Simon. Go there now, please. Your Mom wants you to.
Posted by Moxie at 2:45 AM | Comments (25)
February 1, 2004
bared super breast bowl
Janet showed during family dinner hour what many infants see up close and personal every meal-time. So what? Get over it. I can't believe this is news. That news brings up my all time favorite inequity between the sexes... Why has the female breast become so taboo on television in America? No one blinks an eye when a man with huge pecks is shown "topless" during family teevee time. It's a teat, folks. Young children see them all the time. Maybe if we didn't make it seem like such a secretive and private thing, we wouldn't have so many breast-centric men out there. Besides, we freely show the bovine, feline and canine varieties on teevee. Let's just let go of this this bizarre hang up once and for all.Posted by Moxie at 11:14 PM | Comments (20)
