The Bernie Madoff Drinking Game

Yesterday, Bernie Madoff was sentenced to 150 years in prison, which probably made about 99.9 percent of New Yorkers happy. I say 99.9 because I’m sure the .1 percent of his family was not pleased, unless they too invested in him.

In a sad, sad turn of events this week with MJ, Farrah and now Billy Mays all passing away (infomercials will never be the same again) it looks like we all could use a nice cold one this Thirsty Tuesday. So, I bring to you, the Bernie Madoff Drink Game. Salud!

Drink every time…

-Any time you see the color green, like money. I hear that was his favorite color.

-If you work, live, or walk by Wall Street

-If your last name begins with “P” like Ponzi…

-If you owe someone money. Drink. And then pay them.

-If someone owes you money. Drink two, and then go knock on your door for your money.

-Any time you see or hear the numbers 1, 5, or zero.

-If you spent money on something really stupid this week, drink. And then return it, but don’t feel bad…at least you didn’t give it to that creep.

-If your parents send you your rent check….for the next year, but then can’t pay their mortgage. Drink.

-Drink if you honestly have to still have your parents pay your rent.

-If you were planning on retiring, but now can’t because you gave your money to Madoff…finish the bottle.

The September Issue

Never in my life have I been so excited to spend $27 on a movie ticket then I will be this fall. The September issue trailer is out and Anna Wintour looks badass. Love it! The only thing that would make this better is if Grace Coddington and Anna Wintour got in a fight that involved a jello pit and gel tips, but I’ll take what I can get. This is Vogue, not Belmar for crying out loud.

In other news, this was sent to me by a blogging friend about Abercrombie & Fitch. The store, like many others is having some trouble in the economic trash can we are in. I personally think they are having money problems not because of the recession but because the only people that can fit into their clothes are small infants, and we all know infants can’t drive themselves to the mall and use a credit card yet.

It seems now the store is having some more problems, because they are complete and total a-holes. The Daily Mail reported that an A&F in London moved a worker to the stockroom after finding out she had a prosthetic arm. The Mail reports that in the  employee handbook  the store “stipulates that staff must represent a ‘natural, classic American style’ and instructs them on everything from how to wear their hair (clean and natural) to how long they should wear their nails (a quarter of an inch past the end of the finger).” Apparently fake ligaments are not American? Who knew?

I mean really, if this is anyone’s fault it has to be the worker’s. How dare she choose to have a prosthetic arm instead of a real one like everyone else. Selfish I tell you!

Its reports like these that almost make me sort of happy I collect unemployment. I’d rather feel worthless in my own apartment any day than have to deal with people who work in retail-true story.

A Birthday Buddy and Legend

I’m going to tell you a fun fact about myself. I shared a birthday with Michael Jackson. Yup, my mother and MJ and I all had the same birthday-August 29. So you can see why, beyond the million other reasons I was so upset when my birthday buddy passed away yesterday! It broke my heart, as I’m sure it did with the rest of the world.

And just in case MJ wasn’t sure of his legend status, Perez Hilton and Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson got in an uber Twitter slap fest over MJ when Perez put this picture up on his site when hearing the singer went into cardiac arrest.

After posting the initial pic of MJ, to soon then take it down after hearing about his death Pete Wentz went Twitter ape shit on Perez, perhaps rightfully so.

@PerezHilton u can’t make ur life tearing someone apart, who is a human being, and then flip on a dime and say respect and mourn him.

This then started a legit all out Twitter war.

@petewentz You’re right! I agree with you! I should say spit on his/her grave and laugh! Ha ha. Ding dong. The witch is dead!

@PerezHilton there is a disconnect there both logically and emotionally. Let’s tune back into being human beings.

@petewentz I see no disconnect with what I do/did and now. Earlier I said MJ’s death is like Anna Nicole’s. It is. But this is still sad.

@PerezHilton essentially that’s what you do. Recanting after someone passes doesn’t mean shit in my book. I have no beef. But mj was a legend

This went on for a good hour, and then Ashlee got involved bringing up big sis Jess and it got all types of messy. You know you are a legend when you spark Twitter fights from the grave. G-bless.

And because this is my favorite MJ song…happy weekend.

10 Downing Beautification Project AKA West Village, I Envy You

There are a lot of ugly things in the world. The boy I brought home from the bar last weekend, me after one too many shots of tequila, and sometimes, I would even dare to say that New York is ugly. In a city where there are more rats than people and homeless men can just pull down their pants and show you their penis on a whim, it’s always nice when you stumble upon something pretty in this city. That’s exactly how I felt when I stumbled (ok, not stumble, I was gently guided) to the 10 Downing Beautification Project yesterday in the West Village.

Stonehenge Partners and the SoHo Partnership took out some space and spruced it up quite a bit! Aside from the established 10 Downing Restaurant and trendy Scuderia, which is exactly where the Soprano family would dine if they wanted a mod, Italian meal in the West Village (perhaps after dropping some friends off in the Hudson) so you know it’s that good- Stonehenge and the SoHo Partnership installed 15 new tree beds and a smorgasbord of impatiens. Yes, trees people! In the city of sky scrapers. I was loving it. And it could not have been a more beautiful day to show off the latest beautification project.

As if I wasn’t jealous enough of people who dwelled in the West Village. Sigh… One day.

Subtlety is Dead

As I sit here still in my pajamas from last night, I am infuriated to know that whoever made this dumbass ad has a job and I do not.

“Fill your desire for something long, juicy and flame grilled with the NEW BK SUPER SEVEN INCHER. Yearn for more after you taste the mind-blowing burger that comes with a single beef patty, topped with American cheese, crispy onions and A1 Thick & Hearty Sauce.”

First of all, this is the most disgusting sandwich I’ve ever seen. Yak. Two, this girl looks scared for her life as this giant sandwich is bum rushing her head. Third, I sit around all day and make inappropriate sexual innuendo jokes and had I known that would give me a successful career in advertising I would have started writing some of that ish down. Sigh, I have missed my calling, yet again.

I do find it amusing that on my news feed this morning this was considered to be more newsworthy than Nick Lachey and Vanessa Minnillo breaking up. That’s when you know your celebrity status has hit beyond Z list. A seven inch sandwich and a faux blow job ad are more newsworthy than your relationship. I hear HGTV is still hiring Nick, maybe Drew will let you guest stop on his home renovation show…

The TV Gods Have Feelings Too

Can it be? Does TLC really stand for “we do have a soul?” After last night’s episode of Jon and Kate Plus 8, where the two announced they were splitting up, TLC issued a statement that production of the show will go on hiatus until August. While this saddens me, as I will not have someone else’s life to look at and say,”gee, at least my life isn’t that bad” I don’t think I could emotionally handle that train wreck for much longer. I also can’t handle looking at Jon, who is having a serious midlife crisis as he wore a skull t-shirt with BOTH of his ears pierced last night. Where’s the Korn concert buddy? Did I miss something? You have eight children, take out the bling, you look like a clown.

On the note of stupid people, I read this story about Kimberley Vlaminck a few weeks ago. Kimbo wanted to get a tattoo on her face, because why not. She claims to have dozed off and because of the difficulty in understanding the language barrier, the tattoo artist, who is the most petrifying man you’ve ever seen tattooed 56 stars on her face instead of the three she requested. First of all, how you could let this behemoth of a man touch your face with a needle is beyond me, but nonetheless I felt bad for poor Kimbo regardless of how dumb she is.

Well, sorrow no more for Kimmy dearest.  According to the Daily Mail this little trick LIED about claiming that tattoo artist messed up because her father was mad she got tattoos on her face to begin with. Honey, did you think he would be pleased? Unless your father is a circus master and has trained you to swing from a trapeze by your toes I don’t know any family member that would be happy with this decision. Though, the next time I do something stupid and permanent to my body I will be sure to forward this clip to my mother to let her know things could be damn worse.

The Tangled Tweets We Twitter

I learned many things this weekend. I learned I should never drink Red Bull and Vodka, and I also learned I can eat an entire box of Oreos in one sitting.

But more importantly, I learned Twitter is taking over the world. Ok, So I kind of already knew this but just in case you didn’t follow me.

Last week my friend posted this genius blog on Twittering, and as he said it best, “Eventually Tweeting becomes an obsessive compulsion and racking up followers feels like you’re winning some kind of game no one realizes they’re playing.” I too, jumped on the Twitter bandwagon last year to see what all the fuss was about and now too, am hooked. I realize no one cares that my toaster burned me this morning or that I woke up at 5pm yesterday but yet I Tweet anyway because actually, some people do surprisingly want to know what you are doing at all hours of the day. Which end is worse I can’t tell, the fact that we are all so vain to think everyone wants to know what we are doing or the fact that people actually do care I may never know, but yet I digress.

My friend really exercised the true quality of Twitter when he Tweeted about a coffee shop in SoHo he was craving only to have an employee take a bike ride to his office to deliver it to him! And they don’t deliver; he just heard the call of the Tweet and thought it would be nice to swing by with some coffee.

Well, this got me thinking about all of the things I want to come out of my Twittering. @TastiDLite- can you please set up a machine in my apartment. @BritneySpears-Can we please be bffers? Come over I’ll make you a Red Bull Vod stat. @KendraWilkinson- Send me some Eagles tickets kay? But alas, perhaps Twitter treats stop at coffee, which hey, that’s ok with me.

But I think the Twitter world went a little too overboard last night with Perez Hilton got attacked by the Black Eyed Peas’ manager in Toronto last night and TWEETED for people to call the police. I won’t get into whether this was deserved or not, because I frankly don’t really care…but it is a little scary that something can happen and when you have as many followers as Perez Hilton does, send out a little message and let the entire world know in one click. Which, I guess is the point of Twitter, to tell people yourself—cut out the middle man that is so often the tabloids. But I mean, if you are being attacked, you have time to Twitter?

Granted, this information is way more interesting than telling the entire world you are going to bed, however I would argue it is extreme. Though I find it extremely amusing Perez called Will.i.am a derogatory name and it resulted in his manager attacking him it does appear Perez Hilton did lie on his Twitter. Will.i.am didn’t attack him, his manager did—so why would you send a blast to your 1,038,487 followers saying he did? I don’t think Perez should have been attacked, but I also don’t think he needed to Tweet about it—regardless of the shock value. Ok, enough of me on my Twitter high horse. Speaking of shock value, tonight Jon and Kate make a huge announcement on the show. I love a good PR scene-you can find me on the couch with my roommate and bffer, Yellowtail.

Check out… Will.i.am’s statement and Perez’s.

Spotted…

Happy Friday! Though it isn’t a happy Friday for poor Blair Waldorf—home girl has a sex tape out! I don’t fully understand why people make sex tapes…like, are they that good at it they want to tape themselves and watch it again and again. And, when exactly are they watching it? Do they sit down on the couch with their significant other, some popcorn and matching Snuggies to check themselves out for 20 minutes? It all sounds a bit narcissistic to me.

Also, and not to go into graphic detail here but the average human while err, performing with their partner probably does not look all that great. Think of the weird faces you’ve seen in your lifetime while having sex with someone, why on Earth would you want to put that on film?! I would be so self conscious and therefore would probably just lie there and try to smile at the camera as to not scar myself for life later when watching. That sounds like fun…not.

And really Blair, what would Eleanor think? We all know Serena probably helped you set up the camera, but c’mon B, you’re a Waldorf…have a little dignity. You don’t even need that kind of publicity! This sounds like an out lash Jenny Humphrey would do or perhaps Nellie Yuki to get Dan to notice her. But no, surely we did not expect this from you. Have we not learned from Ri Ri. You just better hope Gossip Girl doesn’t get a hold of this ish…it’s going to be all over the place. Chuck Bass will probably live stream it from his suite and he sits in the corner and cries, drying his tears with his checkered scarf.

On another note of people getting publicity for doing absolutely nothing is Melissa Rycroft, the once scorned chosen one to later get dumped on national television by The Bachelor. Rycroft is set to do an eight gig stint on GMA as a contributor. What she’ll be contributing I am not quite sure. How to dance while holding pom-poms? How to get dumped gracefully?

Sources say she will also be traveling for the show to do fun, light hearted pieces. I’m sure all of the struggling journalists trying to get jobs in this market (present company included) love this. Does she even have a journalism degree? And if you have to be embarrassed publicly in order to get somewhere in life you can find me at the bar tonight, groping a stranger claiming he is the father of my unborn child. I just hope Barbara Walters is watching when it happens.

Let Me Tell You Something About My Family…

Last night might have been both the saddest and happiest night of my life. Though it was the last night for the Real Housewives of New Jersey, it was easily the most entertaining 60 minutes of my day, and perhaps my week. I doubt you missed it but if you did…Danielle brought THE BOOK to a dinner party and basically all hell broke lose. THE BOOK, of course is referring to the book Cop Without a Badge, in which her ex boyfriend, an FBI informant writes that Danielle, whose name at the time was Beverly Mitchell was basically a big ho bag that slept with married men and kidnapped people for drugs and money. No biggie.

Well, the housewives simply would NOT have this. Especially Theresa. She was just appalled that Danielle/Beverly would sleep with married men. Forget the kidnapping, the thought of another woman rubbing up on her little sausage husband Joe was just too much for Theresa and her coiled hair. Between that and the overload on mousse she just couldn’t take it anymore and went batshit on Danielle, flipping tables over. I think Danielle was scared, however with so much Botox in her forehead it was hard to tell which emotion she was displaying. But she was definitely scared, confused or hungry.

 Since I have grown so close to the ladies of Franklin Lakes and their “bubbies,” or lack thereof I wanted to give them a few parting words to let them know how much I truly enjoyed downing a bottle of wine every Tuesday and watching them this season. And while I am convinced their husbands are all in the mob and therefore did not want to be on camera, the ladies held their own quite nicely.

 -Caroline: You my friend, are simply put a badass. And while many of your friends’ husbands could not appear on TV, Big Al seemed to have no problem making an appearance or two. This is because he is most likely the head of the mob and therefore I equate him to Tony Soprano. It doesn’t matter if people see him because he is untouchable. I appreciate you have wild German Sheppards protecting your home as much as I appreciate the fact that you almost clipped Danielle’s fingers off with a pair of hedge clippers for blaming your sister for showing THE BOOK around. I also appreciate the fact that you produced Albie, and I hope your other less attractive son always gets the car wash/strip club combo he’s always dreamed of. LYLAS.

-Dina: In a fight I believe Dina would be scrappy, and I like that about her. She’d be the one pulling your hair while at the same time trying to poke your eyeball out with her fake nail. And while I am uncertain if her husband is in fact “traveling” (how much traveling does one do to run a facility where banquets take place?) or just in the slammer, she keeps her big “bubbies” just to please him. That’s sweet. And although your daughter looks more like a mother than you do Dina, I think it’s nice you two frolic together all day. If you ever want to go to the salon together, I’m free.

 -Jacqueline: Jac, I am going to be frank with you for a moment. For a short time I thought you might end up swimming with the fishies or in the trunk of a Cadillac after shit hit the fan at Theresa’s dinner party. I know you think telling the truth is doing the right thing, but sweetheart, have you met Caroline’s German Sheppard? I also hear you are pregnant, yay.com for you! Not only can you finally have another baby, but it was a smart move on your part, as the family would probably feel bad throwing you in the Hudson with child. Especially if it’s a boy, god forbid!

-Danielle: You facial features are frightening, and I think it is fair to say you may need to stop getting Botox so that you can start saving for when your children need a therapist, because it’s bound to happen soon. I don’t really want to speak too ill of you as you were arrested for kidnapping, so that is that. Best of luck to you.

-Theresa: T, I saved the best for last with you. You are a miraculous creature. I appreciate many things about you. I appreciate that you put your children in awful matching outfits, which usually have animal prints or big gaudy flowers. I appreciate that you are bound to make Gia your little modeling meal ticket, and most importantly I appreciate whatever product you put in your hair to make you not really have a forehead, because it works great. You are my idol New Jersey housewife, and I have no doubt that you children’s hair will grow long and take over their eyebrows one day as yours does. Mazel Tov.

The Insomnia Game (Drinking Optional)

For about the past month, my sleeping patterns have really gone haywire. This is probably a result of having no mental and sometimes physical activity in a given day, as I do not have to get up and do anything even remotely productive sans employment. Literally, I could just sit in my apartment all day with the lights out and not one person would think twice about it. I never do this because it would be creepy and now I have an equally jobless roommate so she would also probably be a bit concerned. But I could, if I wanted to.

Due to this inactivity of my poor brainwaves I cannot sleep at night. I am slowly turning into a full fledge insomniac. And my usual methods of drowsiness are failing me left and right! I am now completely immune to Tylenol PM, Nyquil or any other type of medicine that is supposed to knock you off your ass. Even drinking doesn’t do it! The other night I polished off an entire bottle of wine and at 4am was doing the downward dog in my living room because I could not sleep!

I figure if I have this problem, millions may have it too and thus I present to you the Insomniac  Game similar to a drinking game, but something to do for when your eyelids are ready to paint the town red. The following are a series of thought and mental exercises I do to force myself to sleep. Does it work? Not really, but it’s extremely entertaining while you lay in bed staring at your ceiling.

-Sheep counting: I’m over the traditional white sheep jumping over fences, which just wasn’t cutting it for me. Instead, I give my sheep different colors on their coats, and sometimes they are wearing little booties on their hooves. This makes it much more interesting to see what sheep is going to jump out at you next-you just never know. Will it be a pink sheep? How about purple?  What about a MURPLE sheep! (that’s a hybrid of maroon and purple, a very rare breed). And sometimes people are riding the sheep over the fences, and I’ll be honest, sometimes the sheep don’t make it over the fence as I count them. This is my favorite because they take a running start and leappppp into the air, only to crash head first and stumble backwards. Sometimes when this happens I literally giggle out loud. But when your dumbass sheep crash into the fence, you have to start counting all over again. See—it’s a game!? Sick, yes I know.

-When I had a life, I would go over everything I did in said day, which usually tuckered me right out. However, since that list has now been cut in half basically, I map out every minute detail down to what underwear I wore that day. I start at breakfast, think about pouring my cereal, and keep going down to how many ice cubes I put in my water at dinner. This will either bore you to sleepdom, or give you a mild case of OCD. I hope it’s the former for my case.

-I always tell myself that the next time I can’t sleep; I am going to go for a run. However, I live in New York and we all know what happens to people who go running in the middle of the night. They don’t come back.  However when I didn’t live in mug central, I enjoyed this route except when it made me sleep until 3pm, and then it became a recurring problem so use sparingly.

-This next one is a bit depressing. You can’t get excited about anything, I’m serious. If you have a big weekend coming up or your birthday is around the corner don’t think about it! It’s like waiting for Santa to come Christmas Eve; you’ll never sleep a wink. Sometimes I think about Anna Wintour calling me to be the Executive Editor of Vogue, and then I imagine calling my mom and telling her the news and then going to Barney’s to buy new work clothes and then I’m all hopped up and picking out my first day of work outfit in my head and then before you know it….the sun is up. I am now tired and have an imaginary job, good work. I’m not saying you have to think about killing kittens to get you to sleep, but try to create a different mental imagine for yourself that isn’t you winning the lottery or something of the same nature.

 

If by the time I get to step 4 and I realize sleep is just not happening, I watch reruns of Gossip Girl and call it a day. Happy slumbering!