Don't Judge

I fear this last post of 2008 will finally reveal the chasms of bizarrity in my soul, but I must confess this about myself: for the past six years, I have been the first person in EST to say the word "goulash" in the New Year. Meaning, instead of saying "Happy New Years!" joyously and kissing the nearest reasonably attractive person and trying to avoid the stroke slurs of a makeup-crusted Dick Clark on T.V. and searching the T.V. guide for the Charles Manson documentary that's supposed to come on at 1 a.m., I have said "goulash" instead. It's not much, but it makes me feel special. It also makes me feel closer to Raskolnikov, whom I've had a crush on since 7th grade when I started this tradition. I would go so far as to say my 7th grade love of Raskolnikov is akin to a community college pothead's love of Holden Caulfield.

A strong, inexplicable bond to a literary antihero is like nothing else, really.

Art Nouveau is super pretty

Fat people already spend enough on food as it is

Dear Gov. Paterson,

I think it's cute what you are doing, really. Who would have thought an obesity tax on regular soda could help to mitigate New York's $15 billion deficit? This seems somewhat problematic to me because first of all, diet soda makes you fatter anyway. And second, Coke is the least of a New Yorker's worries:

1. Bagel with schmear: 450 calories, 21 g fat



2. NY-style cheese pizza slice: 460 calories, 13 g fat



3. Hot dog: 309 calories, 20 g fat



4. Cheesecake: 980 calories, 69 g fat



5. NY strip steak: 450 calories, 28 g fat

I guess the point of this post is, does ANYONE out there listen to Paris Hilton anymore?!

Genuine

I just realized that Genuwine collaborated with Timbaland on 1996's "Pony," which makes the backbeat make A LOT more sense (re: Madonna's Hard Candy "Four Minutes" atrocity). Two things about this epiphany: first, I MISS GENUWINE, and second, seriously Timbaland? You were so much more creative back then...and I always swore to like you more than the shoes, even when you were jacking music from the Finnish underground scene. Boo, you whore.

Thunder, thunder, thunder cats

A guy named "Wormy T" posted a fan-made trailer for the upcoming Warner Brother's Thundercats: The Movie. It's good, but I think Kim Kardashian should fight Katie Price over the coveted role of Cheetara, and then maybe settle the bets on which one is the more untalented, big-boobied celeb.

Though I like the way this trailer-maker casted the movie, I don't think Brad Pitt will be Lion-O; he's too busy getting The Curious Case of Benjamin Button beaten by his ex-wife at the box office with her sugarpop ode to dog lovers Marley and Me, a film I'm fairly certain I would rather be pistol-whipped with a can of Cheese Whiz than see.





The funniest thing about this movie is that all the Gen-Xers that actually watched the show in the 80's have kids just young enough that they won't be able to take them to see it due to violence.

Also, this website is really dumb, but I suppose people need an alternate activity to do when they're not playing the Dungeon Master at their weekly D & D chapter meeting.

Derek Zoolander Got It Right

After finishing the bizarre travel book Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell (a good read if you can stomach the oft stilted metaphors and the detailed explanations of her NPR-endorsed, New York left wing lifestyle, her political alignment, and her favorite yogurt choices for breakfast), I looked up pictures of notable assassins from Booth on, and guess what? Fifty to sixty percent of them have "bedable features," a phrase I read once in a Cosmopolitan while my back was uncomfortably kneaded by a massage chair at a mani-pedi salon.

Here are my top favorites, in order of hotness:

1. John Wilkes Booth (killed Lincoln)

Back in the day, this dashing dandy broke many a heart with his smoldering looks and keen fashion sense. Two parts Rhett Butler, one part Brad Pitt, all sex.

2. Gavrilo Princip (killed Archduke Franz Ferdinand)

Not only did this saucy Yugoslavian Nationalist start the Great War, but he has the emotional eyes and the square jawline of a lady killer as well. The 'stache ain't bad, either.

3. Lee Harvey Oswald (killed John F. Kennedy)

Or did he? His biceps could be a bit beefier and some pectorals could complement the Miami Vice look nicely, but all things considered I give him a 6.5 to 7. Plus it sucks to be an assassin and get assassinated.

4. Sirhan Sirhan (killed Bobby Kennedy)

This mug shot/Marc Jacobs ad has the right mix of wistful remorse, nonchalance, and twentysomething grunge, as if he's saying, "What, did I stutter?"

5. James Earl Ray (killed Martin Luther King Jr.)

He looks like James Dean going as Kurt Cobain for Hallowen.

6. Leon Czlogosz (killed William McKinley)

He's got the bone structure and the cleft chin, but the head to neck ratio, I must admit, is a little disconcerting. His looks are about as forgettable as his actions. McKinley who?


7. Charles Guiteau (killed James A. Garfield)

His Rasputinesque wild eyes freak me out, not gonna lie. But out of all of the assassins on this post, he definitely wins the crazy award. Five years in the Oneida community, stalked the president for the French ambassadorial appointment, the "stalwart of Stalwarts"...he makes John Brown as benign as my grandmother's foot corns.


And now for the BIGGEST LOSERS. Don't ask me why assassins of musicians are always ugly, piggish Weight Watchers candidates.

Mark David Chapman (killed John Lennon)

Yolanda Saldivar (killed Selena)

My dog walker

Help me. I have 80,000 disgusting, grapefruit-size limpomas all over my body and my farts smell like gruyère.