Hot New Blog to Watch: Rageoline and Company [Your Daily Diversion]

Every five seconds a new blog is born. It's a fact. (Just count to twenty and then go look it up on Wikipedia; I'm still editing the entry about it now.)

But how do you decide what to read? How will you know what's worth your while!?!?!

First off, I'd say calm down drama queen. You're cut off from any more coffee this morning.

And second off, I'd say I'll tell you what to read! You are on my blog and therefore, I get to tell you what to do. And I'm telling you to read Rageoline & Company. It's a new blog written by some very angry and very funny Boston-based folk.* And it's soon to be all the rage! (Zing!!!)

I mean just look at this picture of rage. Hilarious, no?

Hilarious, yes!

So what did Rageoline decide to focus her snark-beams on for her first target of derision?

Flan! 'Natch.

Flan is so dumb, it doesn't even have a page on Wikipedia. Take that, flan. I don't really even understand what it is, and I've eaten it. It's a strange color and the texture is disgusting. If you've ever eaten flan, you will know that it also has an oozing liquid, which leaks out of the side of it. This reminds me of fruit on the bottom yogurt, where you have that extra yogurt juice, which isn't quite yogurt, and doesn't really resemble any of the fruit from the bottom. I know you know which juice I'm referring to...

How can you argue with mystery juices? You just can't!

So speaketh me: "Read it. Love it. Rage on party dudes!"


*Myself potentially included on that list. Identities changed to protect the snarky.

In Defense of A Cult Classic [One of Us! One of Us!]

This morning the horoscope that greeted me on my iGoogle homepage told me I was "fighting a rising tide of resentment." O RLY?

While it's true, I'm slogging my way through a cold by mixing coffee with the prescription baby speed I got during my last near-death experience (I'm currently typing this post with one hand while hanging from the heating vent above my cube... weeeeee!). AAAAnd to add insult to injury, I'm nursing a nasty paper cut on my left thumb from an unpaid bill in my purse. Damn you bill for being so humorously apropos in your pain-giving.

But as annoying as my own health maladies are, a few rough waves do not add up to a rising tide of resentment. That was until I read an article on Bostonist trash-talking one of my favorite movies of all time: Harold & Maude.

Apparently, The Brattle is hosting a 6-day lead up to Valentines Day by featuring a bunch of romantic movies. And this is the horrific treatment Harold & Maude was subjected to:

"Best Screening to Attend in a Hearse. Don't take a new lover to see Harold and Maude (screening Friday) unless he or she is sullen and aged 18-20. The rest of us find Hal Ashby's 1971 dark comedy prohibitively depressing, even if Cat Stevens does want us to Sing Out."

Did I mention one of the side-effects of these magic decongestant pills is fantastic irritability? Yeah, I forgot when I took one this morning too.

So what did my horoscope suggest I do with my "wave of resentment"? "Share your unspoken dilemma with a trustworthy friend or send your deepest secrets in an email to yourself and then ritually delete it to release the unresolved tension."

If that isn't a call to blogging-arms, I don't know what is.

So screw you Harold & Maude haters! It's a great movie! Not only because it is scored by one of my all-time favorite musicians, Cat Stevens, but because it's f*in hilarious. And so romantic. And for those freaked out by the huge age gap, you don't know what love is!!! (Haha, OK, so maybe that's the angry pills talking.)

But seriously, anyone coming out of that movie thinking it was "prohibitively depressing" was not paying attention. True Harold is faking his suicide left and right all over that movie (suicide=hilarious), but the whole point of the movie is that his relationship with Maude teaches him how to stop being so fucking emo and just live. (And if you were really paying attention, you'd notice the subtle scene where you see Maude's got a concentration camp number tattooed on her arm, which is never discussed but adds this intense higher layer to her joie-de-vivre personality.)

So. There.

/rant

Whew! That was fun. For those of you who have no clue what I'm ranting about, here's the 2nd trailer released for the movie back in 1971:

And for those in the Cambridge area this Friday night (I'm sadly out of town), you should definitely drag your S.O./friends/small dogs in purses, to check it out on the big screen.

Music Video Proves Working Out In A Thong Burns More Calories: Some Waxing Required [Abandon All Hope Ye Who Exercise Here]

There were 74 people in my kickboxing class tonight.

That's right: Seventy fucking four people. This in a room were 40 people feels packed.

Come on guys, who are we really kidding here? Why year after year do you need to make the cliched resolution to go to the gym and get in shape? You know how many people will be in this class come March? Fifteen, on a busy day. I watched it happen last year and it sure as hell is going to happen again this year.

Haven't you learned by now that resolutions are made to be broken? You are doomed. Dooooooomed!

That's why this year my two resolutions were 1) to only drink champagne straight from the bottle, and 2) to get some.

The beauty of the second resolution is that even if I fail (which would make for a very sad 2008 indeed), I wouldn't actually be failing at all. Why just this morning I 'got some' coffee. And once I finish this post, I'm going to 'get some' sleep.

I really should 'get some' prizes for my brilliance. (I would accept the Nobel, Pulitzer, or smooches.)

And now, to brilliantly tie together my gym rant with my 'get some' resolution, I give you the music video to the techno remix of Steve Winwood's "Call on Me."

Anyone else make an amazing resolution this year that they'd like to share with the class? How long before you broke it?

News Flash! The Jonas Brothers Suck, Possible Links To 9/11, Bhutto Assassination? [YouTube Video Wars Are Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Tarding My Brain]

I'm not sure if you know it, but there's a war on guys!

And I'm not talking about 'The Iraq,' I'm talking about the YouTube war between Jonas Brother fans and ADiehardFOBFan. Idolator has been doing an amazing job documenting the entire incident, from the first The Jonas Brothers Suck video made by sk81337 (now stricken from YouTube for terms of service violations, but has been mirrored for posterity here, natch), to The Jonas Brothers Suck Apology video (which is really a "psych! You've been pwned! They still suck! And here's some more screaming Slipknot to prove it!" video), to when ADiehardFOBFan jumped into the mix with her aaahhhmazing "People are allowed to hate the terrorists responsible for 9/11, so I should be allowed to hate the Jonas Brothers" logic.

So long story short, there are about a million Re:Re:Re:The Jonas Brothers Suck and Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:The Jonas Brothers Suck videos floating around YouTube all full of questionable uses of grammar, hairstyles, and angst.

And although I was the only one at my New Years party that could successfully identify them as The Jonas Brothers when they were performing pre-ball drop (upon which I was immediately asked: "Oh, do you work with kids?" --Ahhh, no. I ah, just read a lot on the internet I guess...), I honestly couldn't tell you very much about the band. Except they look like this:

So you can see why teen girls might get riled up about them. Mmmm jailbait.

Though my favorite of all the Re:Re:The Jonas Brothers Suck videos is definitely Dan540's Southern Gentleman's take on the issue. Because really, when am I not fighting over baked goods, earthy elements, and wind? Preach on, Brother!

And I would be completely remiss in my coverage of this incident if I didn't draw your attention to ADiehardFOBFan's detour away from Jonas Brother hating to deal with the gravest enemy to Fall Out Boy fans everywhere: Ashlee Simpson. Not only is she dating Pete Wentz, but she--gasp!--might secretly be 'the biggest prep in the whole-wide world'! In case you had any doubt on ADiehardFOBFan's feelings on the issue, she makes it clear in her title: Ashlee Simpson is a crackwhore.

This video includes a numbered list of why Ashlee Simpson sucks (attracting fangirls! the nose job! lip syncing! tearing Pete away from the band! FOB is losing fans! and they have links on stories that they'll send you if you message them personally to prove their claims!!!!).

But their Number 1 complaint about Ashlee?? (and my personal favorite)

Check Exhibit A:

"What are you doing with your hand right there!"

"Why? I would never do that to my boyfriend! That's disgusting! Even if you're alone, it's... it's just creepy."

I'm sorry to break it to you girls, but when you get older, you'll start to get these feelings. They're perfectly natural and nothing to be afraid of. I don't know how to say this delicately... but sometimes, well sometimes when you really like a boy and he really likes you... well, you're going to want to touch the ween. And it's OK, don't fear it. Go with it.*

Though I've pretty much summed up the good parts, the video is worth watching for ADiehardFOBFan's friend's amazing Cousin It hairstyle.

If only the presidential debates were this exciting! (Then maybe I'd be paying attention!)

*You all better be amazed at my restraint at not linking to the Pete Wentz ween shots here. AMAZED.

Hey Mr. DJ...

The following songs, when played at a club while I'm out for a night dancing, make me more than a little suicidal:

1. Girls Just Want To Have Fun -- Cyndi Lauper (Omg! I'm like a girl! And I'm out dancing! With other girls! This song is so like totally perfect! <--Die.)
2. Uptown Girl -- Billy Joel (You have to be kidding me, right? Billy Joel? Seriously?)
3. Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy -- Big & Rich (Ick ick... why not bust out the Electric Slide while we're at it?)
4. Man, I Feel Like A Woman -- Shania Twain (What is this the 90s?)
5. It's My Life -- Bon Jovi (My favorite!)
6. Crazy Bitch -- Buckcherry (I'd never heard it before tonight, but with a chorus of "Hey, you're a crazy bitch but you fuck so good I'm on top of it" how could you not instantly love despise it?)
7. Living On A Prayer -- Bon Jovi (It wouldn't be a night out in Boston without Bon Jovi's ubiquitous prayers.)
8. Pour Some Sugar On Me -- Def Leppard (Death by overplay)

Also in the running for death by overplay, though I will fight to keep on loving it anyway:

9. Don't Stop Believing -- Journey (Please please don't make me hate this one)

You know you've got a bad DJ on your hands when you hear that new Fergie "flossy flossy" song and think "now this is more like it!"

Then again, what should I expect from a club called Tequila Rain that promises to "bring you Spring Break 52 days weeks out of the year." [Ed: but only 52 of those days will be fun]

Some things were meant to stay in Cancun.

A Note on Eye Contact

I know there is a lot of business coaching crap out there about the importance of eye contact, and trust me, I'm a big fan of using it (especially in battle-of-the-wills stare-downs), but if I'm shaking your hand and you're giving me a dead-eye forced blank stare that reads:

"I am making contact because that is what you are supposed to do in business situations--see how I'm making eye contact--I don't even have to communicate anything with my eyes as long as I keep up this blank gaze you'll think I'm a professional."

It's just fucking creepy. Don't do it.