Miss Penny Lane

I always tell the girls, never take it seriously.
If ya never take it seriously, ya never get hurt.
Ya never get hurt, ya always have fun...
And if you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005


Well, if we're going to be doing this, I want Kate Hudson's face NOW. While we're at it, I'll take her fabu-bod, too (she can keep her husband).
Doctors perform first partial face transplant

P.S. When Hannibal Lecter did this in Silence of the Lambs, it really didn't look so hot.

Up for Grabs

As we have two home theater systems, I am selling mine on Craig's List. I have had success with selling on Craig's List before; however, I need to sell ASAP and will, therefore, use every medium possible, so here goes. If you know anyone interested, or if you yourself are, please let me know.

SONY Home Theater System with 5 Disc CD/DVD

Lightly used for only ONE YEAR. SONY Home Theater System with 5 disc CD/DVD player. Platinum in color. Manuals included, as well as all adapters. Sounds AMAZING, and it's great looking, too!

System includes a 5 disc CD/DVD player, a center speaker, 2 front speakers, 2 surround speakers, and a sub-woofer. See the photo--it looks exactly like that.

System is in perfect condition, except for ONE small scratch on top of sub woofer (aesthetic "damage" only). We are asking $550, but will take best offer received by end of next week.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

The Latest News

First off: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DIRTY BIRDY KURTY McFLIRTY!!!!!!! I loves ya somethin' awful, even if you are old as dirt. (Just jokin'.)

In the spirit of the season, a couple o' things for which I am thankful:
--I have been on a hiatus from retail, so this was the first time in years that I was not forced to deal with Black Friday. Woo-hoo!! It didn't even occur to me to venture to a mall (I hate hate hate malls). Actually, I didn't even go outside until 5 p.m. on Friday.
--Chase is feeling a lot better after her emergency surgery. I hung out with her for a couple of hours on Tuesday, and she was still in a lot of pain. When I spoke with her today, she sounded a lot more energetic, and said that she has been able to walk around a little bit more.
--My sister came home for the weekend from Wisconsin, where she is getting her Masters. She spent part of the term attempting to impregnate monkeys via IVF. Fun stuff. Anyway, it was great to see her and hold her hand during Shopgirl last night (good book, good movie).

Well, there's been a lot going on in the celebrity world as of late, so here are a few updates:

Set your Tivo, VCR, or stay up to watch Oprah finally appear on Letterman on December 1st (Thursday). It has been 16 years since she was last on Letterman, and that was back when he was on NBC! We all remember the notorious feud over the "Uma... Oprah... Oprah... Uma" thing, but I am thrilled that her need to promote the opening night of The Color Purple on Broadway will bring her to the Ed Sullivan Theatre for what will surely be an exciting interview.

During Thanksgiving dinner, my sister said to me, "Did you hear about Nick and Jessica?!" "Yeah, yeah," I responded. "That's been going around forever." "No!" She insisted. "This time it is for real! They even released a statement." Sho 'nuff, as you all know by now, the two have called it splits after three years of marriage. Hmmm, was it his lack of career while hers soared? Was it infidelity? Was it that she was just too young when they married? As a divorcee myself, I know that no one ever knows the truth of what goes on in a marriage, and sometimes (usually) it is a culmination of a lot of things that bring it to an end. I wish them both the best, but I do wonder who will be the first to publicly hook up with someone new. Anyone care to place bets?

Pat Morita died on Thanksgiving Day. Best known for his roles as Al on Happy Days and Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid movies, he died of natural causes at his home in Vegas. "Born in northern California on June 28, 1932, the son of migrant fruit pickers, Morita spent most of his early years in the hospital with spinal tuberculosis, according to the AP. He later recovered only to be sent to a Japanese-American internment camp in Arizona during World War II. " Did ya know...Morita was nominated for an Oscar for Karate Kid? Me neither!

The Surreal Life flows into real life now that Peter Brady (Christopher Knight) and Adrianne Curry are engaged. He, of course, is from The Brady Bunch, and she was a winner of America's Next Top Model (how's that working for her?). The two met while on the aforementioned VH1 reality show, and allowed their romance to be followed for My Fair Brady on which their wedding will also be featured. He is 48, she is 23, and they do not a bad looking couple make... Let's hope this one lasts.

Last weekend, Eva (eee-vah, not ay-vah, according to her) Longoria hosted SNL. I have to say, she was really good! There were no mistakes, her skits were really funny, and she didn't reference the cue cards like other hosts do. Good job, grrl.

And, last but not least, file this one under "My best friend Rachel and I coulda told ya that ten years ago!" People names Matthew McConaugh-hey! hey! (AKA: Matthew McConaugh-yummy) as this year's sexiest man alive. Duh! Other guys who made the cut were:

Monday, November 21, 2005

DC's Newest Residents?

Apparently, Brad and Angelina have been house hunting in DC. Based on photos and my searches on the real estate company's Web site, I think it is a house on N St. in Georgetown near 34th. I wonder why they would set up a camp here? Her work with the UN would most likely land her in NYC when not taking her to African countries, right? Brad (a native Ohioan, by the way!) isn't doing any DC-based movies, nor is she. Anyone heard anything about this?

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Chance Encounter

Several years ago, around this time of year, I first met my love. Actually, it was a bit earlier in the fall, sometime in October that we met (but it was exactly several years ago this week that we got it on for the first time--tee hee). I recall that the weather was a bit warmer, similar to last week's "Indian Summer," as I was running (at that time I was a hard core runner--gotta get back to that!) down Connecticut Avenue in shorts, a little tee, and sunglasses. I ran my usual path to Rock Creek Park and, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning and setting at night, "The O" was sitting at a table outside the Starbucks. As I ran by, I would always give "The O" a high-five or a wave, depending on where he was sitting. I almost never actually stopped, since that was only 10 or 15 minutes into my run. On this particular occasion, "The O" was sitting with someone and, for some unknown reason, I stopped to sit and chat. That decision changed my life. ("Holla" to "The O"!!)

Over the next several weeks, we kept running into each other at Aroma, and we would have long talks at one of the side tables. His charisma, fantastic smile, great ass, and passion for his work and his son made it really easy to fall for him. Over the years, we have had some really wonderful times, but we have also had to get through more rough periods than any relationship should have to endure.

So, since it is a sort of anniversary for us, and his birthday is coming up in a week and a half, I just wanted to take this public opportunity to tell him how much I love him and how much I appreciate that he has stood by me through thick and thin (literally and figuratively). Unless I were to write one myself, no song can accurately capture our relationship or my feelings about this wonderful guy, but I think there are many lines in Joni Mitchell's Case of You that do a pretty damn good job, so here goes:

Just before our love got lost you said,
"I am as constant as a northern star."
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar."

On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
With your face sketched on it twice

Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
And I would still be on my feet
Oh I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid

I remember that time you told me,
you said,"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine'
Cause part of you pours out of me

In these lines from time to time

Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,"Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed"

Oh but you are in my blood
You're my holy wine
You're so bitter, bitter and so sweet
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

Some photos...

His birthday 2003

His birthday dinner, 2003

(First time I met most of his family. WTF is up with my hair??? This is before his sister became my hair stylist!)

July 2005

At a gala in November 2003

At the same gala--we do a lot of laughing together, and in this shot, I think I almost peed myself from laughing so hard.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Jewish Girls Rock

I love Sarah Silverman. She's crude, she's sassy, she's a stoner, and she's been dating the adorable Jimmy Kimmel since 2002. (Wow, we have a lot in common, 'cept that I've been dating a different Gentile since 2002.) A stand-up comedienne, she is often recognized for her small roles in School of Rock, There's Something About Mary, and a writing/starring stint on SNL back in 1993/94. She was on Jimmy Kimmel last week (well, she's probably on Jimmy Kimmel a lot) promoting her new concert/film, Jesus Is Magic, and she appears with Jimmy in "The Pizza," his spoof of R. Kelley's stupid-ass "R&B Opera" In the Closet.

Rolling Stone has a great article with Sarah, which I've copied below. It is long, but it is laugh aloud funny. Enjoy! Also, see this interview with E!.

Dirty Rotten Princess
Behind Sarah Silverman's pretty face is one of the filthiest minds in comedy

It's a Sunday afternoon, and Sarah Silverman is over at her boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel's house, a Spanish-style minimansion in the hills of Burbank, California, with a pool, a billiards table, a pingpong table, a poker table, a popcorn maker, a karaoke set, a recording studio, many musical instruments, a wet bar topped by a neon Jimmy's bar sign, and a new wood-burning pizza oven -- "the world's most inconvenient microwave," Kimmel calls it, sliding a mushroom disc from its door.

His sweet-faced kids from his first marriage hang around waiting for a slice, but his daughter's friend, over for the afternoon to complete a construction-paper-centric French project, demurs.

"My mom says I have to have dinner at home," she says.

"That whore," says Silverman under her breath. Then: "You eat that damn pizza or you will not be welcome in this house."

Well, Silverman never said her comedy was for the kids. A comic since she dropped out of New York University at nineteen, Silverman, now thirty-four, has been a moderate success for a long time, a draw on the stand-up circuit, a player of bit parts in movies like There's Something About Mary and School of Rock. "People have said that it's going to be my year for the past twelve years" is how Silverman looks at it, but this year people might be right. There she is, as Hadassah Guberman on Comedy Central's Crank Yankers; one of the high points of The Aristocrats; the second-most-memorable person on the televised roast of Pamela Anderson ("I'm glad [Courtney Love] is here" was one of Silverman's lines. "I left my crack in my other purse"). Most important, there's Sarah Silverman: Jesus Is Magic, her concert movie, out in theaters on November 11th. On display is her full wit and wisdom. Silverman is a shock comic, and she's a sexy comic, and the combination is exponentially titillating.

Silverman's onscreen persona is a JAP-y ego monster with a Jessica Simpson sunniness and all the wrong values, so miseducated that a chain of stereotypes passes for analytical thought. You have your Jewish jokes: "I was raped by a doctor," she says, "which is so bittersweet for a Jewish girl." You have your black jokes: "I used to go out with a guy who was half-black who totally broke up with me because I'm a fucking loser . . . I just heard myself say that. I'm such a pessimist. He's half-white." You have your sex jokes: "A couple nights ago, I was licking jelly off my boyfriend's penis. And I thought, 'Oh, my God. I'm turning into my mother.'"

And then you have your doody jokes, and it's these that Silverman really enjoys. Like: "I didn't lose my virginity until I was twenty-six. Nineteen vaginally, but twenty-six what my boyfriend calls 'the real way.' OK, that's a joke. That's a fucking disgusting joke. My asshole is totally for decoration. It's like an appendix. I tell people I was shot. My friend was like, '[Anal sex] is not disgusting, it's natural.' I was like, 'First of all, doody comes out of there, and second of all, doody comes out of there.' I don't need two reasons where doody is involved."

It would be fair to say Silverman is doody-obsessed. Despite being almost too cute -- a Jewish Cameron Diaz -- Silverman has the mentality and wardrobe of a teenage boy (if she ever wears anything but a baseball T-shirt and jeans, I missed it). Before the pizza dinner, she bounds across the exquisitely landscaped plot of land next to Kimmel's house. Her small eleven-year-old dog trots behind. "Do a doody, Duck," she tells him. "It's natural. It's totally natural." At some point, she says, "Doody, poopy, darn, crap" -- I'm not sure in reaction to what. She talks about being backstage last night at the Improv in L.A.: "Chris Rock came by, and we were all hanging out and then somebody farted. I almost vomited. I couldn't stop talking about it. I had to leave the room. No one else left. I guess they wanted to hang out with Chris."

Back at Kimmel's place, talk turns to the number of televisions housed therein. "There are twenty-one!" says Kimmel's son. "I've watched them all, except the one in Dad's bathroom."

"There are seventeen," says Kimmel.

"You just remembered twenty-one," says Silverman.

Kimmel's son scrunches up his face. "You made a two and a one," he counters.

"Ah ha ha," says Silverman, letting out a rare belly laugh.

Hanging out with Silverman is so fun it feels like a cool new girl has moved to town and all your current friends suddenly look dull and dorky by comparison. She has the best qualities of both sexes -- the sly, sexually charged affect of a confident girl, and the silly, kid-around conversational banter of a guy. At an age where most single women are stuck in a Sex and the City/urban-cougar mind-set, Silverman is not desperate. She has rarely been without a boyfriend in adult life and has only dated comedians ("A comedian not dating a comedian is like a gay guy not dating a gay guy," she says). She doesn't want to bear her own children. She has her real answer why: "I like kids, and I might adopt sometime in my forties, but outside of vanity, I can't find a reason for having my own right now," she says. And then she has her joke answer: "I always think I should get on it if I want to have kids. Because once you hit thirty it can be difficult to conceive -- it can be dangerous. The best time to conceive is when you're a black teenager."

She doesn't want to get married, either, though she doesn't have a joke about that. "I don't want to be part of some club that doesn't include everybody," she says. "Also, I don't want to be called 'wife.' I see too many guys in my world say the word 'wife' and roll their eyes. Jimmy and I are totally committed, I say we're 'life partners,' but I don't know that I want him to feel like he's got me. Getting married would take away a little of the romance. Plus I don't want to move into his house -- it's not decorated at all how I would do it, so why would I live there? I love my place, and I'm saving up to buy an apartment. Maybe ten years from now, it would be great to live together."

So a few nights a week Silverman and Kimmel stay at her rental apartment, a second-story walk-up decorated Pottery Barn-by-way-of-the-thrift-store, with loads of family photos and paintings by one of her sisters (she has three), as well as a Hunan Taste calendar and an outdated bumper sticker posted on the wall (LICK BUSH AND DICK 2004). It's in a decent area of the flat part of L.A., near a strangely alluring megamall, the Grove, her favorite place to get stoned and see movies (Silverman doesn't drink alcohol, because it nauseates her). She keeps iced tea in her nearly empty fridge, because she knows Kimmel likes it, and a bunch of boxes of cereal on top of the fridge, because she likes to eat that when she's stoned. Silverman likes to get stoned.

"It's down to, like, four nights a week," she says. "After I perform, I have to have it. I used to like all that stuff, mushrooms, acid. I think I was high from nineteen to twenty-one years old. It was the best time. I remember the first time I tripped, in Washington Square Park [in New York]. All of a sudden we heard explosions and we thought we were at war -- we forgot it was July 3rd. We went to a cafe and got hot chocolate with all these homeless people who we had made friends with. Finally we got back to my apartment, which was painted dark purple to match my bong. We got on my bed, and my friend started freaking out a little. I had strawberries on my sheets, and I was like, 'It's all right, let's just go strawberry picking,' and he was like, 'It is all right.' Joe Jackson's 'A Slow Song' was playing at that very moment. And then we listened to Squeeze Singles for the rest of the day, and we played in the shower with our clothes on." She shakes her head. "God! We were so free."

Backstage at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in L.A. for "Comedy Death-Ray," a 10 p.m.-to-6 a.m. marathon of ten-minute spots, Silverman is the pet of the male
comedians, a little sister whom they all love to kid. Nick Swardson spies her and shouts, "Who wants to fart in my mouth?" He puts his arm around her. "Remember that time I put my penis on Duck? He doesn't ask about me, does he?" A bunch of the other guys come over, and Silverman is suddenly surrounded by very lanky males. "Is this a tall party?" she asks.

Silverman -- followed by an angry Janeane Garofalo berating the audience for not understanding that New York Times reporter Judith Miller is protecting a criminal in the Bush administration -- tries out new material in her set. "I love how Palestinians and Jews hate each other," she says. "It's so cute. Honestly, what's the difference? They're brown. They have an odor. It's like sweet potatoes hating yams. It's like how coyotes eat dogs -- they are dogs! And they eat them. There's no joke there, but it's a good point. It's like how birds eat eggs. You can't blame them, because eggs are awesome, but they're all -- " she pantomimes eating an egg -- "'Yum, mmm, this came out of my pussy.'"

Afterward, Silverman steps into the greenroom and grabs her backpack. She takes out a joint. "Look what we have here," she says, and settles on a stool in the corner, contentedly puffing away.

There's much about Silverman that still seems free, a girl on an adventure through life with very little interest in what people think of her or how many awards are on her mantel. She likes to call herself "lazy," and her stand-up act is more in the vein of the George Carlin "Don't fix it if it ain't broke" school than the ad-libbing pyrotechnics of Chris Rock. Silverman is as far from the reigning breed of driven, ambitious Angelina Jolie-type dragon ladies as one can get. She certainly knows how to manipulate an audience, but in real life you feel you could manipulate her without much trouble. She's Daddy's little girl, the youngest of four sisters growing up in 1970s and 1980s New Hampshire, the daughter who bonded most with her dad, a discount-clothing supplier at Crazy Sophie's Outlet who wrote thrillers on the side and thought of himself as an amateur comic. Her father taught her swearwords early and would give her presents of numbered Truly Tasteless Jokes books. "I remember the very first joke was the joke about the wolf stopping Little Red Riding Hood in the woods, and he says, 'Eat, eat, eat -- doesn't anyone fuck anymore?'" says Silverman. "I didn't get it: Eat what?"

They say that people do comedy to exorcise their demons, and despite, or perhaps because of, this open attitude to life, Silverman certainly needed to clean house. Her dad and mom divorced when Sarah was six; in elementary school, she would watch The Love Boat or Fantasy Island and then one of the soft-core Cinemax videos that were lying around near the TV too. She was a small kid and extremely underdeveloped. In fact, it took her until seventeen and a half to get her period. "I was with my girlfriend in the bathroom and she was looking in the mirror, primping," says Silverman.

"I went to pee, and I was like, 'Oh, my God, I got my period!' She was like, 'I hate that.'" It was a couple of years before that, at around fifteen, that about four mornings a week Silverman no longer woke up to find she had wet her bed.

Holy shit!

How about this one: At thirteen, Silverman was trotting up a mountain on a school camping trip when a cloud of despair so dark fell upon her that she missed three months of school and spent the next three years in a deep depression. Her parents took her to a psychiatrist. He gave her Xanax and told her to come again the next week. When she showed up, he had hanged himself. "I had to sit in the waiting room for an hour until my mom picked me up," says Silverman. "The first thing I thought of was that he had braces. I was like,'Wow, he didn't even wait to get his braces off.'"

There's more. "When I was in eighth grade, I went to visit my sister in Berkeley, where she was in a summer program. This guy in the dorm befriended me. He gave me all these porn magazines, like Playgirl and Variations, all this stuff I hung onto forever because I was like a boy in that way -- I was just sexualized so young. I mean, I wasn't molested, I'm not a stripper, but in a nonphysical way I was very sexualized. It's not all jokes in my act. Like when I say that my dad when I was nine told me he had to see hookers because my mom was frigid. Anyway, one day this guy held me off the fifteenth floor of this dorm from my ankles. He wouldn't let me go until I screamed enough. Can you believe it? I never said that out loud until a few years ago." She snorts. "Of course, instead of going home and telling my parents, I went home and was like, 'They have the biggest slices of pizza at this place called Blondie's!'"

So the answer as to whether Silverman's stories in her act are true is . . . sometimes. When she talks about her "bevy of unwanted facial hair," like, yeah, she got it all waxed off, and no vestige of the formerly furry Sarah is to be found. Mostly, though, things are either entirely false or half made-up: like when she says, "I don't care if you think I'm a racist, I just want you to think that I'm thin." Of course she doesn't want you to think that she's a racist, you'd have to be a moron to do so, but yes, she does want you to think she's thin -- badly. Perhaps the only time I saw her unironically insecure was when she asked me nervously, "Do you really think I'm skinny?" Says Silverman, "The one kind of joke that really bums me out is when people make fat jokes, because I think all women think of themselves as fat, no matter how evolved we are or how much we don't read ridiculous Cosmopolitan."

Other than regarding her weight, these days Silverman takes Zoloft and feels OK. Pretty much any time after nineteen, she says, she's been happy. One of the turning points was discovering sex. "Once I had sex, it was all I thought about," she says. It brings to mind what Jimmy Kimmel said about Silverman before they started dating, at the roast of Hugh Hefner: "Next we have a woman of whom I have nothing bad to say in the hope she will add me to the very long list of comedians she's had sex with." (Silverman shot back, "Jimmy Kimmel, everybody -- he's fat and has no charisma.") Silverman isn't at all ashamed of her past. "If I was hanging out with someone, chances are . . ." she says, trailing off. "What I say to Jimmy is, 'All those
experiences made me the person you're in love with!'" She breaks out into one of her thousand-watt smiles. "Zoloft might've affected my sex drive, but I needed it," she says later. "I was out of control."

This is not to imply that all Silverman's jokes are a reflection of her own twisted past. There's a lot more in her show that's about the twisted present. An avowed liberal embarrassed to admit she voted for Ralph Nader in 2000, Silverman calls Bush a "psycho fundamentalist." "I don't want to compare him to Hitler," she says. "But if I did, it would be in the same way that you just can't believe what he's doing, because it's so unbelievable." Perhaps the most explosive of her jokes is her "open letter" to Martin Luther King Jr. "Guess what, Martin Luther King? I had a dream too. I had a dream that I was in my living room. It wasn't my living room, but it was my living room. I went to the back yard, where there was a pool. And before I got into it, a shark came out. And he had braces. So maybe you're not so fucking special."

A lot of people don't like that joke coming from a white woman -- at a Times Square show a few weeks ago, she was booed off the stage as soon as she said King's name -- but if they knew something about her politics, perhaps they wouldn't take such offense. Silverman believes reparations should be made to black Americans. "It would be billions of dollars divided among those who can be traced back to slavery," she says. "It would be just that basic. I don't know if it can happen. I don't know if it's possible. But I think without it the resentment will never truly go away. Certainly not by acting like everything's cool." Silverman has several jokes with the word "nigger" in them, and she says sometimes when there are black people in the audience she gets scared. "But I would never not say them if black people are there, because that makes those jokes racist jokes," she says.

At its best, Silverman's act forces you to think about why you don't transcend ugly childhood prejudices. It sometimes gets her in trouble, like when an Asian watchdog group panned her for saying "Chink" on Conan O'Brien a couple of years ago, or more recently, when she offended former TV talk-show host Joe Franklin with her spot in The Aristocrats. In the movie, she describes her experience as a member of a
perverted family circus meeting with Franklin: "My father would come out onstage, the music would play, and he would start masturbating. My brother comes out, they'd do, like, a mutual masturbation, kind of like dueling banjos. They're holding hands and they spin. I stay in a stationary position; when the assholes came by, I would lick the assholes. And in one motion, my mother, both pinkies, up their assholes as they come. It's pretty spectacular, and it's all about timing . . . [Franklin] had a bed in [his office], like a couch, that he called Uncle Joe's bed for little people, 'cause a couch is like a bed for little people, you know?" She looks down, then up. "Joe Franklin raped me." (Franklin has been unamused by this obvious joke, and has threatened to sue for defamation of character.)

"I can't believe anyone not being interested in exploring taboos," Silverman says in her defense. "Maybe it is the thing where a Catholic-school worker needs only to see the word 'pussy' to get off, but a sex worker needs ten midgets and a juggler. A comic needs to make jokes about the most taboo topics, about race or AIDS or fucked-up sex, to be able to get the belly laugh, for themselves."

Thursday, November 10, 2005

"Oh No You Dih-int!!!" Part II

OK, so after my experience with the rude delivery guy, I gave Mr. Chen’s another chance (and another, and another….). Well, last night was one of those nights: we didn’t feel like cooking, LOST was coming on soon, and we were just craving vegetable steamed dumplings and the best ever Hot & Sour soup. The Chef had to run down to the store to get some ingredients for an amazing tart recipe he’s submitting in a contest (more on that soon), and the food arrived from Mr. Chen’s while he was gone. I handed the young delivery guy the 2 twenties that C had left for me, asking for $10 back (which was leaving him almost $4 in tip). He gave me a wide-eyed look. I was thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s a good tip!” but then I saw him silently fingering the corner of one of the twenties. Turns out it had a torn off corner; I hadn’t even noticed, as it was really just about 2 centimeters missing from the bill. Seriously, his expression was implying that I was trying to pull a fast one over on him. “You have another?” he finally asked. “No,” I said calmly, “That’s the only cash I have, but it is fine…you can still use it.” Again, he looked at me like I am a total loon, so I said, “Really, it is still usable, it’s just the tip of the corner that’s missing. You can use it even if a lot more than that were missing.” He just stood there, so I started getting annoyed, “You can’t be serious?!” I asked. “I’ll call my boyfriend and see when he’ll be home, but I don’t think he has another twenty, anyway.” I ran around looking for my cell and dialed C’s number, but he didn’t answer. I went back to the door and said, “I can’t get in touch with him, and I have no other money, so….” I started to hand the bag o' food back to him. Finally he said, “It’s OK, but I will have to come back if I can’t take it.” I was like, “Yeah, I guess I won’t be seeing you then, since there won’t be a problem.”

OK, am I just looking for shit to piss me off, or is that just a little odd?? I recognize that the guy is from China, but he’s been delivering for Mr. Chen’s for a while and he has to have come across torn and/or ripped money in his past--probably in China, too. I’m considering only ordering from them when I have money in my account to pay by Visa, or maybe I will give up on them altogether for the place up the street that has much better dumplings (but not the vegetarian hot & sour soup that Chen's has).

OK, that's all I got. Pray for something interesting to happen in the entertainment world so I have something to blog about tomorrow.


Monday, November 07, 2005

Don't F*** With Penny Lane...

Hudson takes action over pictures

Actress Kate Hudson has made a legal complaint against five publications over photographs she says wrongly suggested she had an eating disorder.

The daughter of Hollywood star Goldie Hawn has instructed London law firm Schillings to act on her behalf.

The images gave a "seriously false and misleading impression", it said.

Letters have been sent to the Daily Mail newspaper, the National Enquirer, Heat, Closer and Star Magazine, Schillings told the BBC.

Emap, publisher of the magazines Heat and Closer, confirmed they were in receipt of a letter from Schillings.

"We will make a response in due course," a spokeswoman said.

'Commercial concern'
Schillings said an analysis of how the photographs came to be taken, sold and published will form a key aspect of its case.

The published images circulated widely in September and October 2005, it said.

The firm added the images were "used to accompany and illustrate articles which suggested that Ms Hudson had an eating disorder that was so grave and serious that she was wasting away to the extreme concern of her mother and family and although not stated, of commercial and artistic concern to those who might cast her in movies and choose to use her image to endorse products."

Almost Famous star Ms Hudson's weight and diet was of a healthy nature," both at the time of the images being taken and at present," it added.

Story from BBC.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005


So, it is that time of year again. The weather is getting cooler, and the UGGs have emerged from the back of the closet. Then again, there are some girls who wore them through the spring and summer months with bare legs and mini-skirts, but I won't even go there. UGGs are so freakin' UGGly, girls, and the scraping sound they make on pavement only adds to how annoying they are (pick. up. your. feet!). UGGs are a perfect example of how once a celeb wears something, it becomes super trendy, even though they are super UGG-ly and super expensive... This is one trend I just don't understand. Can anyone explain it to me?!

Halloween 2005