I need to move out of the family house. Like…three years ago. Me: (sorting through the mail) You have a letter from a convent…? Mama Winkelman: Oh they replied! Me: …who replied? Mama Winkelman: The nuns! Me: You’re writing to nuns now? Mama Winkelman: Well of course! Me: May I ask why? Mama Winkelman: To ask them to pray for your soul and to help you find a...
As an unemployed individual who is desperate for an entry-level position in any field that will provide just enough money to pay the rent, I am beyond offended that Charlie Sheen thinks that, at $2 million per episode, he is underpaid for his work on “Two and a Half Men.” Seriously, I’m raging.
I’m like a neurotic, X-rated Nancy Drew. Maybe I should add that to my resume. Backstory: I hate crushes. I hate them so much (“…flames…flames, on the side of my face…” Anyone? Anyone?) that I can’t even come up with any adequate wording to describe it. So, that being said…I have a crush. We’ll call him Mr. X because I’m not creative...
80’s Reference of the Day/Pop Culture Roll Call/What Happens When Justin Has Too Many Martinis: Dad: Where is the wedding held again? Me: The wedding is going to be at Southfork. Dad: Southfork? Are Miss Ellie and J.R. Ewing invited? Me: Oh! No no, not Southfork…Southland? Dad: Sutherland? Me: That’s it! I would have have gotten there.
Why does my champagne taste like beer? Is this a gay boy problem or a rich boy problem? I’m perplexed.
The Great Gatsby is my favorite "classic" novel.... →
We’re never going to see a decent on-screen adaptation of this novel, are we?
“Oh Jesus Christ! Would you just stay in? You’re always flopping out and it’s getting annoying.” —Me, yelling at my MacBook’s power cord. You thought I was referring to something else, didn’t you? You all need to get your minds out of the gutter.
I’m pretty sure I’m kind of a bitch today. I’d go shopping, but I’d just end up purposely hitting people with my bags if they got in my way.
Apparently I don’t care that I’m lactose intolerant and that it is currently winter. Me: I want a Blizzard tonight. The ice cream treat, not snow. Kayla: Ooh I have coupons for “buy one, get one free.” Me: Ooh! I should see what the Blizzard of the Month is. Kayla: You should, even though I always prefer Snickers. Me: This month is Midnight Truffle. Kayla: Midnight...
Fun fact: watching/hearing nose jobs being performed on TV makes me feel light-headed and horribly nauseous. All I need to hear is that sickening crack! when the doctor breaks the nose with their chisel and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor with a roomful of people hovering over me and gasping. The knowledge that such a noise even exists (and could possibly come from my body!) is...
I read somewhere that, back in the glorious mid-80’s, a psychiatrist wrote in to the creators of “Dynasty” to inform them that a patient put off their suicide by a day because they wanted to see an episode before they left this earth. I have a theory that I may just be the reincarnation of that individual.
“It’s not your fault you bear a strong resemblance to Malibu Ken!” —Lillie, commenting on my mother’s vexation at her only son being routinely mistaken for a Californian rather than “a proud Midwesterner” (her words, not mine).
Kelly Killoren Bensimon is off to bring relief to... →
I feel like I should actually be commending her for wanting to use her “celebrity” status for such an important cause, but all I can think is “haven’t those poor Haitians been through enough?”
It’s below zero out. I think it is entirely appropriate to still be playing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” on my iPod.
References to gay porn and ”Dynasty” all in one evening? I might as well just break out in a medley from “Cabaret” because I can’t possibly be fooling anybody. Me: You’re up late, what are you watching? A soap? Mama Winkelman: I’m not, I was just flipping channels. Me: Which one is it? Mama Winkelman: I don’t know Justin, I’m not watching...
My mother doesn’t appreciate gay porn. I suppose this should be comforting, but it just ruins jokes. Upon seeing a preview for “Hall Pass:” Me: I feel like this movie has been made before. Mama Winkelman: It has? Me: It kind of reminds me of “Old School.” Mama Winkelman: I don’t know what that is. Me: You know, nebbish men living out their fantasies...
Breaking News: Dr. Phil is a douchenozzle who... →
Oh fuck you, Dr. Phil. Personally, I think I’m more traumatized by my parents refusing to buy me Superstar Barbie for my 4th birthday than I am by being drawn to her in the first place.
True Life: I Eat Skippy Peanut Butter Out of the Jar on Friday Nights. This is not what my early-to-mid-twenties was supposed to look like. MTV and countless Aaron Spelling productions clearly lied to me.
I’ve just spent the last 60 minutes playing Nancy Drew, trying to find out why Bravo has knocked The Real Housewives of New York City from their February lineup in favor of the appallingly trashy-looking The Real Housewives of Miami (who aren’t even Real Housewives at all, they just tacked that title to this train wreck. I don’t care how vapid and tasteless this series is, you...
With all of Hollywood abuzz with the search for the new Lois Lane, I would personally like to take this time to volunteer to read for the role of Louis Lane. There’s just something about a man in a cape and tights… I mean, seriously. It’s 2011, let’s shake things up a bit.