I've never really understood

the bizarre synergy between Liz Phair and Keith Richards. Mainly because Richards has always seemed more myth than man to me-- you know, he's the large-than-life rock God sustaining a vampiric existence care of 4am speedballs and maybe/probably daily unicorn blood transfusions, and as much as Liz Phair rocks and rocks hard, her persona seems to be culled as a direct affront to the very sandbox in which Richards' plays. Sure, Phair's Exile in Guyville was a tribute (or was it more of a jab? or was it be BOTH? OMG FALLING DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE.. WHERE'S MY SPEEDBALL?!!) to the Stones' Exile on Main Street, but it also a painfully human bitch-out of the boy-owned world that she desperately wanted to enter and simultaneously wanted to destroy. I feel like circa 1993 Phair would call it a hate fuck.

Anyway, here is the Liz Phair of now reviewing Richards' biography.

Pseudo-Intellectual Thought of the Day!

It's interesting that the Jackassers closed Jackass 3D with a song called "Memories" and flashes of their baby pics, because the whole humor of Jackass necessitates being entirely un-precious about life.

That is all I have to say about that.

Here's Something Happening Tonight!

Experimenting with my Beta Blocker dosage now.

Bed Intruder Halloween Costume

Remember how last month a news report of an attempted rape became the number one most watched video on YouTube, essentially because the victim's brother was super gay? Maybe you really enjoyed that one? Well now you can play the highly entertaining role of a poor sing-songy dude from the projects whose sister almost got raped... for Halloween!

Is this costume:

A.) irrefutable evidence we're now living in a dystopian society where there's no discernible distinction between "news" and "entertainment"?
B.) an easy way to get people to pay $25 for a tank top and a bandana?
C.) Both.

You stab the hot dog sections with the uncooked spaghetti and boil.

Do You Know Where Your Memes Come From?

It’s an unverified fact that many of the major Internet memes of the last year (Chatroulette & IWriteLike, to name two) have sprung from the brainmush of young Russian geniuses. At the same time, we have apprehended at least one very sexy Russian spy known to canoodle with tech bigwigs on U.S. soil, and a handful of inconspicuously unsexy Russian spies with a knack (unrelated to point) for growing healthy hydrangeas (Also unrelated to point: is that girl like SO happy she got a joke into the Times? I mean, I would be SO HAPPY.) My first theory was that the poor unfortunate spies were victims of some sort of Hot Tub Time Machine journey and were mistakenly operating as if in the Cold War era (a plot perhaps to be turned into a Brendan Frasier* movie), but, consider this comrades: what if these SPIES were here to learn our taste and proffer us endless cultural delight and constant virtual candy designed to lull us into the acquiescent state of puppies getting a good belly rub? Like what if their memos back to the motherland were “129-456 Like deciding which famous person they are similar to” or “234-868 Like showing genitals on grainy web cams”? I mean, just WHAT IF?

This post is sponsored by the I Couldn’t Think of Anything To Write About Today Foundation.

*Brendan Frasier, I hath not forsaken you!

A Short Story About Soho House

(phone rings)

Hey you! What’s that? You want me to come to Soho House? Sure, I mean I was just at Soho House last night. HAHAHAHA, I know. Soho House is the shit! Yeah, no problem I’ll just catch a cab to Soho House. Okay, getting in the cab to Soho House now. I’ll see you at Soho House, girl! Wait, did I tell you that hilarious thing that happened at Soho House LAST week? OMG, it was just so so typical Soho House, you know? Just totally Soho House being Soho House. Okay, I'm seriously on my way to Soho House now. (“Soho House, pls. Can you avoid 6th Ave?”) Be at Soho House in 5 minutes! Wait outside of Soho House for me, k?

Protagonist arrives at Soho House.

Fin.