Birthday Shout Outs

On Sunday I realized that AISL is two years old. Yay me! What started as the blog that no one reads (because it was private) has become the blog 15 people read. Yay me and 15 people. Thanks to you all.

It is also significant that Sunday was Big N's birthday. And it completely slipped my mind. So for Big N and my other friends who's birthday I forgot this year: Happy Birthday. For he's/she's a jolly good fellow/chick? Whatever.

Proof Positive That I'm An Idiot

It is said that if a persons wonders "Am I crazy?" that thought is proof of sanity. However, I don't think asking oneself "Am I an idiot" is proof that one is not an idiot.

Case in point, I often wonder if I am an idiot, yet this thought process has never stopped me from doing anything stupid. I'll usually just say to myself "Oh well" and go ahead with whatever stupid enterprise I was thinking about and then watch it blow up in my face. Sometimes it's just more fun that way.

But stupid. Undeniably stupid.

So this last saturday, I took what's known as the Multi-state Professional Responsibility Exam aka The MPRE. Like all law school tests, this requires much hoop jumping and other idiocy. One is required to bring a piece of paper with one's picture on it, AND a picture ID, pencils etc. but then there is a whole list of crap one can't bring into the exam. I had nightmares the night before about them confiscating my kleenex (which are essential for my runny, polypy nose).

These tests are always in the morning which is definitely the absolute worst time, as I find myself barely conscious. So there was some kerfuffle with a student in line ahead of me as they had his first and last name listed backwards, and they were kind of rattling of our room assignments. I got my number and headed to the elevator for my room.

I'm walking down the hallway and find room 206 and sit down with my plastic bag of pencils and kleenex. One very odd looking girl greets me as I sit down. I look around the room, but there's no one I recognize. I focus on getting settled for a few minutes.

I look around the room again and notice that no one has study materials like mine. Huh.

Then I notice that one hispanic gentleman is reading over materials in a notebook in Spanish. "I didn't realize the MPRE was given in Spanish" I say to myself.

Then I see another gentleman, come in with a similar notebook, who begins looking over materials also in Spanish. And then I notice that everyone in the class has the same notebook.

And that's when I realize I'm sitting in a Spanish class.

I book it out of the room to the room next door where I see a frowny young woman who has "test administrator" written all over her. That and she's taking admission tickets and checking names off a list. I slide into my seat ahead of two other late comers.

"Be cool" I tell myself. Nobody knows you went to the Spanish class.

I also probably didn't pass that test.

Word of the Week

The word of the week is Dumbfuckistan. Thank you to The Unofficial Site of [Redacted] for bringing this word to my attention.

I just love using it. As in "You are the Czar of Dumbfuckistan". I guess if Dumbfuckistan had a Talliban they would be the Dumbfuckiban. See, I love it so much I have already mutated it.

The Unnofficial was using the word to describe the lunacy of suspending three girls for using the word "vagina" while performing a vignette from - surprise - The Vagina Monologues. And for once some parents complained about the girls' suspension, not use of the word vagina. Go New York parents!

I was actually in a "V-day" performance and we helped raise nearly $5k for a local women's shelter, so I'm impressed at the "balls" of these high school girls.

Say it with me: DUMBFUCKISTAN!

Infomercial Products I Publicly Deride But Secretly Want

THE MAGIC BULLET

By now, surely everyone has seen the ad for the Magic Bullet. Complete with the 30 year old woman who is trying to play a 60 year old, hard smoking auntie with lipstick smeared across her face? Of course you have. It's incessant, inexorable, as it beats on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past...But the Magic Bullet not only has the most pervasive infomercial, it's the only kitchen product to be named after a JFK assassination theory! Bravo ad wizards!

And, just listen to this testimonial from the magic bullet's website:

The Magic Bullet is an entirely new concept in labor-saving devices. Unlike bulky blenders and unwieldy food processors that most of us only pull out of storage for specific recipes and special occasions, the Magic Bullet is so handy, so versatile and easy to use that you'll put it to work EVERY single day (probably several times a day). Best of all, it saves you time because it does almost any job in the kitchen in 10 seconds or less!

How magical! It's the best of a blender and a food processor without the complexity! With this one small device and 47 attachments, you can immediately simply your life.

People, people, it's a damn blender. With little cups and big cups that you attach to it. That's it. I have both a blender and a food processor. I'm not sure I need my life further simplified with a cabinet full of cups that attach to my "blocessor". And yet a little part of me stil desires the Magic Bullet.

THE GT EXPRESS


Have you seen the infomercial for this one? It's really scary. This product is kinda like a George Foreman Grill, but instead of a grill it has two "wells" in which the frightening homemaker lady on the infomercial is always shoving a bizarre combination of products.

Want a tiny cake with a candy bar shoved in the middle? You bet! How about some breakfast sausage with a fluffy exoskeleton of eggs? Yes please! Got some leftovers? Well, like a pothead with the munchies, mix whatever's in your fridge together and put it in the weird little baking wells add some liquid eggs or pancake mix and voila! Instant food crap.

Oh, please sir, may I have some more?!

It's like an Easy Bake Oven, but on crack. And yet I want to buy the GT Express, emptying out my fridge of its leftovers which I will coat with eggs thereby transforming them into scary half circled food widgets.

Chef Tony's SMARTWARE




There's something a little uncomfortable about bakeware made entirely of silicon. This seems like one of those inventions that, like tang, is a by-product of the space program.

And yet, I can't bake worth shit, so this has enormous appeal to me. Cakes and bread that aren't going to stick to their baking container? Sign me up.

Also, my Dad says "Never trust a skinny chef" and Tony is pretty hefty. Therefore, by the transitive property of my Dad, Chef Tony is trustworthy, and it follows that this bakeware must be awesome. But if you ask me in person, I will totally say that this is bakeware for a kitchen wuss.


Additionally,there were two literary refenses in this post. If you can name them, I dub thee King/Queen of the Nerds.


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This post is dedicated to Tommy H.

Let's Not Fight Anymore

I'm sorry blog readers, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take away the comments section. Actually, I have no idea what the f happened, but for some reason they disappeared from my last 2 posts.

And here I was thinking you all didn't love me anymore because NOBODY had posted a comment. And then I got an email informing me that the comments section was gone.

And then I got a comment on an old post implying that I must be angry, and took away the comment section and that I must not love you anymore. Well it's simply not the case. Comments are what let's me know that this blog is not the proverbial tree in the forest; what let's me know that you really really like me. I'll chock it up to having switched to the new blogger format that screwed things up.

I still love you (Justin/N) I promise. Please post comments.

Jesus, I love that baby picture. I also thought this fat baby at the Indian place was really cute the other day. EZ has suggested my uterus must be hurting. Leave it to a guy to attribute everything to the uterus. Well my uterus is fine I tell you, just fine. And I told EZ to shove it. And yes, this has been a total non-sequitur.

Quote of the Week

Shrek the Third Preview: ....blah blah blah RUMPLESTILTSKIN blah blah....

EZ: Did he say "Flabbydickskin"?

Me: Um, no.

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It's really not EZ's fault though, it's Craigslists fault. See I was talking to my friend Giacomo a while back and he said "Honey, when I'm having a bad day and want to feel normal I read the Craigslists personals." And like convincing your friends to shoot heroin, a new Craig addict was born. And then I got EZ hooked. And then Tiny as well. And ever since we started reading the personals, we think that everything has a latent/blatent pornographic content.

I don't merely read the men 4 women; no, I read THEM ALL. It's a fascinating study of human nature. And it's also hillarious. I'll list them in ascending order of interest:

The lesbians in NOLA are presently arguing if this list should be available to bisexual women, or just straight up lesbians. The rest of the postings are mostly Angelina Jolie sightings.

Straight women are kinda boring, mostly listing tons of requirements, because let's face it, the ball is pretty much in their court since they're a lady looking for a hookup.

Straight men are ridiculous. They ones that don't post a picture all describe themselves as good looking; the ones who post a picture are generally not good looking. Sometimes they'll post a pic of their genetalia. Common themes include "No strings attached" or "No drama" which translates to "I want to sleep with you, and I won't call you again." Beware the ones that claim to be sensitive. That translates either to "loser" or "I want to make a vest out of your skin."

The Gay men are by far the most hillarious. In NOLA it's pretty much "I"m staying in this hotel. Email me your pic. Let's hook up." The other 50% of posting are pictures of genetalia. I guess they think that speaks for itself.

You can see why a few reads of this will thrust your mind into the gutter. And I bet you're heading to Craigslist right now.

Oscars Edition: Actors I'm Always Getting Confused

John Cleese and Billy Connolly. Really, I'm just always thinking Billy Connolly is John Cleese, and then I'm disappointed that it's not John Cleese. But come on, they look similar.











Jim Caviezel and Billy Crudup. I know one of these guys was Jesus and the other was in MI:3, but I'd be hard pressed to tell you which one. One of you is half Swiss, the other left his 7 month pregnant girlfriend, Mary-Louise Parker, for Claire Danes. I'm pretty sure the Jesus guy is actually the better man. Which reminds me....











Frances O'Connor and Mary Louise Parker. Really I keep thinking FO'C is MLP, and then I'm wrong.


Ah, Aaron Eckhart and Thomas Jane. One of you is married to Patricia Arquette. One of you was in Thank You For Smoking (thumbs up) and one was in The Punisher (thumbs down). May the better dimpled-chinned-man win!

The only person worse than me is EZ who is constantly confusing Marissa Tomei for Mira Sorvino and Mena Suvari - both of whom look nothing like Marissa Tomei. Whenever EZ is in doubt as to an actress is in a film, his default is Marissa Tomei.