douche mcdouchebag

OK so I might catch a lot of hell for this (in the improbable instance that someone who might call this joker a "true friend" should see this post). But more likely than not, this will simply provide a good laugh to get you through hump day.

The day started normal. I morning facebooked and discovered a friend request. (gasp) Except this friend was no friend of mine. (seriously people? that's what myspace is for - GOSH!) The requester? A young man named Justin Ross Lee. Profile pic: middle-parted, slick blonde hair and aviators. We even had mutual friends in common. (every girl in my office. red flag.) Hm. Hard to tell. I had to find out more.

Religious Views: "Supercharged Super Jew"

I should have stopped here. But it was too irresistible.

With nearly 1500 facebook friends and over 2000 pictures of himself (only 58 of which are tagged by "other friends"), I began to realize that I was dealing with a class act conundrum.

97 photo albums?!

It would take me days to truly understand this Rico Suave. Damn. I settled with skimming the tip of the iceberg.

The first few pictures seemed sort of normal. A few celebrities/models here and there. And then out of nowhere, we took a turn to Crazytown. I'm just going to copy this picture directly, along with the corresponding tags he originally crafted. I wish I could protect the faces of the innocent, but this is 2008. Privacy is a thing of the past.



"No one yanks a veil and crashes a disgusting over the hill 30-something bachelorette party like JLEE. Mohegan Sun."

In this photo: 24 months at best (photos), Oy vey (photos), Oy (photos), Nightmare on Face St. (photos), Running out of time (photos), Don't quit your day job (photos), I don't blame you for turning away (photos), Where did the rest of you go? (photos)

What else can you expect from this guy? Hand-scanned/tagged photographs from Hampton's Magazine of him and his boys of course. Albums entitled "Arrogant April" and "Decadent December". And if you don't believe he's a baller. Peep this:



Caption: "Cash Money Hoes"

Ahhhhhhhk - I just can't take it. People like this should have their balls cut off and be denied their ability to procreate! True, I spent a lot of time and energy writing this. But the chuckles along the way were so worth it. I don't feel bad, because dude, he's a glutton for publicity...fo sho. His phone number is listed. You have no idea the temptations that parade through my mind.

For a good time, friend request Justin Ross Lee. (facebook OR myspace, folks)

what i love about The South

...and I capitalize because I'm feeling extra Southern today.

I walk into Macy's (across the street from my office) during my lunch break today because they're having a super duper sale and I needed a new pair of summer Sperry's. (That's right. I wasn't kidding in my previous post *see below*. I'm ridiculously excited about my upcoming boating adventure.)

So, I'm perusing through the Sperry display on the ginormous fifth floor, when I catch from the corner of my eye, a sprightly middle-aged woman and her sprouting daughter (complete with braces). They are, in fact, smiling at me. Not in my general direction. Directly at me. It clicks and I know a conversation will ensue.

"Here they are, daaaarling!" (the woman says to her daughter)
Smiling/stare begins.
"Where areeee you from?" (she says to me)
"South Carolina." (I look down at the tan Sperry's I've just tried on, and look across at the matching pair on her daughter's feet)
"No kidding! Do you live here? We are from Lexington!"
"Well I went to school at USC! I do live here now, and work across the street!"
"Well that's just wonderful! We're just visiting!" (genuine smile)

At this point, I'm brushed towards the counter by the sales clerk, who gives me my sweet discount, and shoes. I thank her and as I'm walking away, I just can't help myself.

"Enjoy your stay!" (I say)
"Enjoy your shoes!" (She says)

...Enjoy your shoes...

God I love The South.

sweet schooner

I'm SO ready for May 15th and our little trip around Manhattan on this schooner with one of our reps. They titled the invite "drinking and sailing". Get your Dramamime and Sperry's ready girls.

she gets me every time

pumping this at work all day today

pegu club

For some reason, sales reps think it's a good idea to sign us up for beer-of-the-month clubs. Thoughtful. But when you're contemplating case races with your coworkers - not such a good idea.

I'm hypothetically transplanted out of the office, into a dimly-lit rectangular room. It's best if you know someone on the weekends and want a table. But that's anywhere in NY. The coat check woman is a royal witch, but you deal. A few comfy, round sectionals for large parties occupy the elongated space - but this place is for quaint encounters. Dark red and black hues enhance a Shangri-La feel.

(Shangri-La: a mythical Himalayan paradise that serves as a Utopian "happy place")

What they do, they do well. Be prepared to hold your horses for a drink. They're made with TLC and fist-pumping shakes. No worries though. You'll enjoy a pleasant conversation with the bartenders you'll soon know by name. With an array of small, silver spice containers, they concoct the most fabulous drinks. The Badminton Cup (cucumber mojito plus some) is my personal fav.

If you're ever in Soho, stop by. It's the perfect precursor to a late-night in Meatpacking, or an after-dinner sip with your sweetie.

latin lesson

Dum Spiro Spero -
"While I breathe, I hope"

...i know i'm partial...but what a winsome state motto...

saturday

Midtown Manhattan is God's little reminder that hell is real.

I accidentally left my hair straightener in the office over the weekend and was forced to venture up from Chelsea to retrieve it. Naturally there was a parade on Broadway. Middle-class America oozed into the streets with blank stares and bulging love handles. I crossed streets on "don't walk" signals.

When I finally found a corner seat on the 7 train, I buried my nose in Kafka and tried to immerse myself in existentialism. The buttery brown face of a quarter-aged man caught my eye. He was wearing a Mets jersey and a Movado watch. Plugging away at his Crackberry.

I neared my building. Looking across the river, I spotted a 30 foot ski boat and it's frothy wake. My mouth gaped without permission. I bet it's 80 degrees in South Carolina.