Fashion show with Of Montreal at McCarren Pool

Stop the presses: I went to a show in Williamsjerk and had a good time! First thing in its favor, It was part of this summer's Pool Parties concert series in the abandoned McCarren Pool, and everybody knows abandoned structures are awesome. The really fun Slip n Slide helped matters in the 90-degree inferno, and Enon and Asobi Seksu both sounded great, the latter doing a more rocking set than expected. Of Montreal took the stage with the best pop song from their last album, "Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games," with singer Kevin Barnes clad in a saucy green miniskirt and red go-go boots that I wanted for myself. Then through their set of Elephant 6 psych-pop, flamboyant young Mr. Barnes danced about, made two costume changes AND wielded a sword. Their encore was announced as the hit song of the summer, so I thought, "Crazy?" and ohyestheydi-id. They performed the Gnarls Barkley song, which is already pretty Hey-Ya'd out and it's not even August, but it was still a fun time.

Predictably, fashion was on parade, though it was not too obnoxious. Now, I'm no "fashionista" and I may not ever "buy items costing more than $20," but I've learned a few things about fashion while living in NYC: one of them is, put on as many things as possible that at least sort of match and it will probs be fashionable. Yes: tank top + skirt + belt + scarf in hair + big earrings + big sunglasses + big bag + necklace + bracelets + rings +shoes. No: t-shirt + shorts.

The other thing I've learned is that if you see an unusual fashion move twice, it's probably a trend. I've seen a few people wearing their necklaces backwards, with the pendant on their backs. So I guess this a thing now? And at this show I saw three examps of ironic tie-dye. Trend!

Final micro-trend: a friend of Miss Calisha Jenkins of Drunky Brewster was wearing this pair of golden Respect ME Adidas foot-bling. A dude wearing that exact pair happened to stand right in front of where we were parked on blankets, so Calisha tossed the matching sneakers over to him. He did not seem to have as good of a sense of humor about this as someone wearing those shoes should. Well, it was Williamsjerk, after all.

A tribute to Teagan

No, not the porn star Teagan, you preverts. I'm talkin' bout bodybuilder/actress/writer Teagan Clive, who you know from David Lee Roth's "California Girls" video.

Among her other credits, she once served as Diamond Dave's bodyguard while clad in a white bikini in the middle of winter. But this morning I witnessed her title role performance in the 1989 film Alienator. Yes, part Alien, part Terminator, all awfulsome fun! As an assassin from another planet, she zaps people into oblivion while wearing a Teela-esque metal bikini. The movie's real stars are her most amazing asset, upper legs like gigantic hams.

If he saw this movie, my old man would definitely say in a Russian accent, "strong woman, carry 100 pounds of potatoes up four flights of stairs nine months pregnant," or simply, "strong like bull." (Speaking of which, another of Teagan's credits is "Russian Exercise Woman" in Jumpin' Jack Flash.)

Here is Alienator about to decapitate an unfortunate gentleman.

But even Alienator has a tender side, as shown in a moment with a baby fawn, which her mental computer labeled N O N - H O S T I L E, and we see her smile. Well, she is a woman, after all. And WHAT a woman!

"Conor Oberst is a friggin' genius"

Cokane's bloggery reader julepandme gets very offended that I don't like Conor Oberst aka Bright Eyes, and wanted me to write that Obes is a friggin' genius.
So:

Conor Oberst is a friggin genius...at being a WIMPSTER!
I'm not saying he's wuss-tacular, but if the world were ending, and it were up to him to save it, goodbye world! Oh wait, I am saying he's wuss-tactular. JK julepandme, but he's just too whiny for me. Plus I bet he'd be a maje jerk if you met him.

I've heard the new Maiden and you haven't

I cannot discuss "A Matter of Life and Death," due out September 5, though--non-disclosure, and all that.
I'm just reporting this to make my boy friends/faux-beaus jealous. Girls don't like Iron Maiden.
I mean, they're fine. I've had "Run to the Hills" as a ringtone. But I don't want to listen to them for too long at a time.

Blender's 25 Biggest Wusses in music

When Blender's list of wimpy musicians started off with Robert Smith, I was ready for it to be all Morrissey and Bright Eyes and such that I could dismiss as whiny crud I've never liked. But somebody was about to get taken to school by Blender.

Artists on this list I own music by:
Donovan, Bread, Cat Stevens, Belle and Sebastian, Graham Nash (and there's more where those came from in my record collectsh).

I've learned today that I generally don't like whiny music if it's from the 80s, 90s, or today. I'm likely to like it if it was made in the era of hot dudes in tight clothes aka the good old days.

If they're looking good, bring on the schlockiest pieces of crap and I won't know the diff! (Hence, my onetime affinity for hair "metal.")

Thanks to this list, I also learned of the existence of New Country phenomenon Rascal Flatts. Or should I say...Rascal FATTS?

Oh wait, over 600 people on the Internet have already made that joke.

Shooting stuff is cool

Especially empties and pictures of celebs such as "The 'Hoff." But not the windchimes. Just remember, kids, guns kill...and check out these bitches.

This devil wears Salvo

Ecs & I met at an undisclosed location to work on our project, and to help the gears turn, I went downstairs to a deli for two tallboy cans of this special edition of Coors Light (you know, the Silver Bullet?), which encourage all embibers to "celebrate Hip Hop." I know that I feel more like celebrating hip-hop when drinking a tallboy-size anything.

A riled-up homeless guy a la Anton the Bum from In Living Color was loudly providing commentary in a raspy voice for all who approached the cashier. The woman ahead of me was looking way more hip-hop than I, and he commented approvingly about her booty and wanting to pull her hair, etc. But once I reached the reviewing stand, he decidedly disapproved, calling me a honky-ass cracker devil or some combination of those terms. But my crime was not just my race; he continued on to note, "You look like a skeleton."

What I could have said was, "You're the one who just dropped your chicken all over the floor and then picked it up and put it back in the container to eat." But what I did say was, "Thank you," because I've been feeling pudge-o lately, and also skeletons are really cool and piratty.

UCB Summerstage: OMG you missed it

I hardly wanted to murder anybody* last night, which started out auspiciously VIP style at the Upright Citizens Brigade Summerstage show in Central Park.

Aziz Ansari told a great story about the most off the chain concert he's ever been to (R. Kelly, natch) and Todd Barry did a funny bit about myspace and stuck it to Snapple lady Wendy (who was really there!). And hosts Paul Scheer and Rob Huebel as the Central Park Park Rangers were ridick. One of my faves was new to me, Rebecca Drysale, whose singalong set was intended to make everyone else in Central Park think they were missing a historic Summerstage Best Concert Ever full of surprise guest appearances--i.e., when you hear about like Mick Jagger, Iggy Pop and David Bowie all showing up on stage at like TV on the Radio and having a gangbang for old times' sake. (Or here's a true one: Prince showed up unannounced at the Maceo Parker show in Prospect Park last week.) Rebecca also makes a 3-2-1 Contact reference in the contact section of her website! Yay for obscuro references! and Yay for UCB, whose annual Del Close Marathon is this weekend. Go!

After the show, we watched Road House on the BFS' Lower East Side roof, projected onto the brick wall of the building next door. There was a cool breeze as Swayze ripped out his opponent's throat with his bare hands, and all was right in New York. Oh Patrick, you so Swayze!




*except our maddeningly slow cab driver with the Uncle Remus beard who took us to the wrong place.

It's the riiight time of the mooonth...

I felt I should remark on this NASCAR article about lady driver Danica Patrick, and how a male driver who isn't doing as well as her made a remark that she's got the right aggression to succed at racing when it's the right time of the month.

***sigh*** Oh, NASCAR. Oh, Nashville. It's too hot for this.

Then I saw Reverend Alecia and was rendered unable to think of anything else.

Huzzah!

In a comment on my posting Honkies in the Catskills, meanieteacher suggested that my gang's campground friends were theater geeks since we played such dramadork games as Snaps and Mafia with them. Maybe she was right...but at least we were not staying here:

"Experience...
...a vacation in another realm. A resort in time and space where Scientists sit with Shamans and Druids dance with Deadheads. Where African drums jam with bluegrass fiddles, and political activism meets Earth spirituality - where theatre and life meld - where days are spent in exploration of Strange New Worlds, within and without, as nights blaze with laser lights and bonfire flames."



Don't forget your leather mug, your dreamcatcher, your tie-dyed shirt with dolphins on it, your wizard, your crystal ball, your leather mug with a dreamcatcher, a dolphin and a wizard with a crystal ball on it, your Native American tapestry with wolves howling on a mountaintop, your Celtic neck torc, and your homemade fimo clay and hemp jewelry.

Does this post make my toes look fat?

This is an honest-to-God real press release. (Bracketed phrases appear where I've disguised identifying names.)

GET FAT TOES SLIM
Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem], Surgical Director of NYC [Center for Rich Folks Who Are Out of Their Goddamn Minds] Introduces
Toe Slimming Surgery to Treat Toe-besity !


New York, NY- (July 13, 2006) If your feet look like they could use the South Beach Diet you re not alone. Many women have feet and toes that are chunky. Although mostly due to genetic reasons, some people are subject to foot swelling, which can be caused by many different factors from a diet high in salt and carbohydrates to the effects of pregnancy or PMS. Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem], Surgical Director of NYC [Center for Rich Folks Who Are Out of Their Goddamn Minds] says, There was a time when there was little that could be done cosmetically to improve feet. Today, most problems of the feet can be corrected.

Toe-besity Procedures
As cosmetic benefits of foot surgery are becoming more common place, more and more individuals with congenital foot disorders are also stepping forward to seek out the latest innovative corrective techniques. For those who suffer from overweight feet and toes and desire slimmer, more petite feet to accommodate their strappy stilettos, Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem] introduces surgical options to get fat toes slim.

The Toe Tuck: The Toe Tuck involves surgery of the pinky toe to make the toe slimmer. Often painful, unsightly corns on the pinky toe are also removed. The Toe Tuck allows for a better fit into stylish shoes especially if your pinky toes tend to get cramped in shoes.
Toe Slimming: This procedure involves slimming of the tips of the toes where fatty deposits may cause the toes to look uneven.
Toe Shortening: This procedure is most commonly for the second toe (next to the big toe) although any toe can be shortened. Like the hammertoe surgery, incisions are carefully placed between the toes so visible scarring is minimized. Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem] has taken the procedure an extra step by placing his incision on the side of the toes so no visible scar is left. It s obvious that any patient concerned enough to undergo a toe shortening procedure would also prefer as minimally visible a scar as possible. With our incision there is no visible scar, says Dr.[Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem].

About Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem] [abridged]

Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem] is a podiatrist... and one of the premier cosmetic foot surgeons in the country...he is credited with coining the terms, Foot Makeover , Foot Facelift , The Toe Tuck , and High Heel Feet . An expert in his field, Dr. [Let's Invent Something New for Women to Feel Insecure About So That I Can Make Tons of Money Correcting a Fictional Problem] has appeared on numerous national and local television news programs and has also been featured in numerous health and beauty magazines and newspapers across the country.

Once again, thanks, "health" and "beauty" magazines!

Ho money, ho problems

Hey--gals! I'm just reading a press release here for a new book we got in the porn office (and because the book is directed at women, it has a pink cover, hearts floating everywhere, and the woman is wearing a spaghetti-strap dress, red pumps, and holding a rose)...Did you know that you shouldn't "just leave the finances to your husband"? and did you further know that you should use a "Money Mood Meter (TM)" "to see if you really need those shoes, or if you're really just mad at your husband or boyfriend for working late"?

I didn't. I'd better get reading!

BT-dubs, I just did a google image search for "duh" to find an illustration for this, and guess who comes in first and third? Our esteemed leader G-dubs. He appears two more times on the first results page, which is double the amount of appearances by his intellectual peers such as babies and animals.

Honkies in the Catskills

Six of us went upstate for the weekend of the Fourth to hit a party in Woodstock and then go camping. These things always start out so neat and civilized and end with us as animals who have to reintegrate into society with its ways of say, not lying around in the dirt and belching in front of most folks, etc.














We set up camp creekside in the tent-city on the property of our awesome host, who with his converted goat-barn home has pretty much the best setup ever.














Behold: The VIP Tent! (NKA: No Kids Allowed)








When darkness fell, it was time for the annual let's-hope-nobody-loses-an-eye amazing fireworks spectacular, shot from an island in the stream. Later, the rotating-cast band played hits from 1969. Then they launched into "No Fun" and this woman rocked the hula hoop harder than it has ever been rocked. She's part of a gang of Brooklyn hoopers who I can only assume kick ass.








After getting lots of creek time in, we moved on to the village of Phoenicia, where the check-in room had a cast of taxidermied animals from bear to bobcat on down to unidentified game-looking birds, that we were assured all appeared on the campground. (Well, at least once each before getting shot and stuffed.) We got a campsite right on the river, which was rolling at about level-4 rapids pace after the recent flooding. (The water was too wild for tubing to happen, but we were still able to hang in the river all day in the calm waters at the edge of the nearby island, where we played fetch with Otto Zone the German Pointer for hours on end.)








This first family dinner of marinated portabella burgers and unchicken patties on garlic toast, baked beans, and many snacks was also the last one I made onsite, and we learned that when you camp in town you get real lazy and spend too much money eating out.


















But it's all worth it when you eat at a place that has this.
















The tiny village surrounded by mountains seems set up for the pleasure of visiting yuppies--several river-tubing businesses, an outdoors supply store, a breakfast place with 20-plus varieties of pancakes and delicious vegan dishes (Sweet Sue's), a few restaurants, at least four real estate offices, two home furnishings places (one modern, one rustic)--but I was thrilled to discover the huge, dark, dusty lost-in-time drugstore. It still had all the old glass display cases along the walls and some of them held vintage products that probably had never left their original spots. There were a few choice '80s products still hanging about like colored foam curling wands and, sun-faded and dust-covered in one glass display case--could it be? It was: that infamous Medieval-style hair-removal torture device, Epilady. Ladies over a certain age recall this thing with a shudder; basically it had a few rings of spinning METAL COILS that ripped your leg hairs out by the root. I got one of these on clearance at a similarly lost-in-time drugstore in Scranton, PA, in the late '80s or so and couldn't even complete one lower leg with it, and I don't think my leg hair ever returned to the spots where I used the Epilady. (I was shocked to learn that this company still exists.)

Phoenicia also has a vintage curiosity shop, Mystery Spot (not affiliated with Mystery Spot in Cali), where I wanted everything and fell in love with something that I now must have or I shall never be happy: the Hermes 3000.




While conducting routine camping nighttime extended fireside hangout (telling stories, playing games, finding reasons to use Leah's headlamp, sending obsolete items such as beer bottles back to nature in the fire)...






....we heard a commotion not far away in the campground: a party. We decided to crash it. The dozens of attendees were in their late teens to early 20s. We were detected pretty quickly and introduced around to a bunch of international camp counselors. One muscular lad was supposedly a stripper and was quite interested to hear of my position at Playgirl magazine, so while I sang "Everybody" by the Backstreet Boys, he started dancing and immediately shed his shirt and was just starting to pull his pants down when the others stopped him. Then he couldn't find his shirt (maybe it went back to nature?) but after seeing him eating breakfast in town the next day in a tank-top cut hoodie, with a bunch of other shirtless muscle guys (we learned the other counselors call them the Proteins) we gathered he probably doesn't mind not being able to find his shirt.

Later we visited our other neighbors, a bunch of dudes from Staten Island, and played a baffling game called Snaps and another called Mafia. It was a lot easier to make friends at that campground than at the Woodstock party. Probably because the Woodstock party had a lot of folks from the city...and NYC is not the friendliest place. Both the camp counselor party and the Staten Islanders party drew a visit from Mr. Campground to get us to shut up, and our gang wondered if he noticed we were present every time he had to come regulate, or if we were all just a sea of faceless campers to him.

On July 4th we lingered around, not wanting to leave, and walked to the edge of town (i.e., several blocks away), where we found an abandoned diner overlooking our campground.



As we approached it on tiptoe, we could hear someone on the other side of the adjacent trailers chopping wood--or chopping something--and a Johnny Cash song drifting over, "I don't like it but I guess things happen that wayyy..."
As a group who had felt the entire weekend like we were in the beginning of a horror film ("Woo! This weekend in the woods is gonna be AWESOME you guys! Do you wanna paaaaar-taaaay! It's party tiiiiiiiiiime!"), we suddently felt like we were kicking into stage two of the horror movie, when the murderin' begins.



Peering in the windows, we found the creepiest thing visible--the entrance to the cinderblock basement. I offered Leah a dollar to go down there but she didn't go. Who knew what Mr. Campground or Mr. Chopchop next door had stacked down in that basement. We continued past and waved at Mr. Choppity Chop, a big mass of man who waved back at us with his hatchet. We hurried along, and returned home intact...this time.

Back in the city that night, four of us reunited on a Williamsjerk rooftop for the fireworks, where some maniac kid who was hopped up on goofballs or something proposed that he strip, which would've been funny just to be able to say that two dudes did it in one weekend, though he turned out to be all "look at how wacky I am" talk. No one wanted to see that anyway. And the beat goes on...

Wow.

'Member as an angered youth, getting so mad at your parents when they're fighting in the trailer that you just had to put on your headphones and listen to Nelson and were then transported to a magical colorful music video for "After the Rain"? Well, now you can buy Nelson's love and affection for $350. At least for the time it takes to snap one photo.

Other things I learned while discovering this:

Nelson & the other hair bands are on myspace!

Warrant: Jani Lane has been replaced by "Jamie St. James"!
Jani Lane: Uses "LOL" when captioning his myspace photos! Completes and posts myspace surveys! And is "5'7"-ish"! That "ish" def means I'm taller than him!
Firehouse: Now, more uggo than ever! Even in my cheesiest days I never liked this band. Tagline: "If you think the fire's out--THINK AGAIN!" They also chose 1990firehouserocks as their myspace url name.
Mark Slaughter: In a band called "Scrap Metal" with Gunnar Nelson and the guy from Night Ranger! Built his kids a rad treehouse!
Kip Winger: Still pretty hot!

Coming soon to a plbacae near you

I still haven't gotten photos from the long weekend, but until I do...we have THIS:

Dear friend,
I found your picture on onea of the websites, can we talk to
each other? I might be coming to ayour plbacae in few weeks.
This waould be a great opportunity to meet each other.
Btw, I am a woman. I am 25. Drop me a line at mqyfj@mailforfreedom.com

Btw, I am betting that was not a woman.
That came to the letters email address at work. I got these two in a row on myspace this week:

Subject: hello
Body: how you are I am very glad to have visit your profile and i wish you to be my best friend.Anyway i impressed about it,your beauty is also another thing.your reply will be highly appriciated.


Subject: peter
Body: Hi


How are you?

You look really pretty in the pictures I saw. You must be an intresting girl, so I`m about to get to now you.


Who I`m looking for is someone that I could spend my free time with like going to music clubs, dancing, eating out, walking around in Manhattan or on the beach, chatting, being just two of us having a lot of fun.I like doing anything that pleasures both me and my partner


Looking forward to hearing from you.

Peter


I have SO MANY boyfriends!!!! It must be because I am so intresting. And my beauty is also another thing.

Porn on the 5th of July

This morning, the first day back at work at ye olde pornne office after the long holiday weekend, I opened a large white envelope. Contained within were the following DVDs:

Big Gulps 2
Butt Blast! 1
Hot Squirts 2
White Poles in Dark Holes 1

Now, I have several questions. Foremost of them would be, "What the hell happened to me, a nice Irish Catholic girl from New Jersey?" "Why in the world were these titles sent to a magazine aimed at women?" would be another one. "How am I supposed to watch the sequels to Big Gulps and Hot Squirts without seeing the originals?" is yet another question, but now I'm just getting silly.