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August 31, 2007
Como Se Dice "Hot Damn, Cuz!?"
Behold the 2-bedroom apartment Sherri, Sherri's Barcelonian boyfriend and I will be staying in in the fair Spanish city come this October 11th...
There's already been talk of "clubbing til dawn" and 5-hour tapas feasts. Erm. Sounds like my kind of trip EXACTAMENTS. I really can't wait for this one...really, truly.
Posted by Bree at 11:04 AM | Comments (0)
August 30, 2007
Blimey.
From Consumerist.com:
Anyway - beware if you are flying on [British Airways] into London. Might want to use FedEx for your bags instead.Our reader isn't kidding. Check out this Wall Street Journal article confirming much of the same. According to it, BA has mishandled 28 bags per 1,000 passengers in this year's second quarter, which is twice the worst US major airline, US Airways. In the first half of this year, BA lost bags for more than half a million travelers this year. Even Regis Philbin isn't immune. They lost two of his wife's suitcases and returned one sopping wet, with her favorite Armani dress inside, ruined.
Not Joy's Armani!
Sob!
If these bleeding, dodgy sods think they're gonna drop their knickers and piss all over all the Topshop gear I pick up on the other side of the OCEAN (clearly not a pond), they're gonna...well...they're gonna go ahead and do it, I guess. Shitters and mash. Maybe I should just plan on wearing ALL of it home a la Scarlett Johansson. Something to consider.
Posted by Bree at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)
Wondering...
Ahem...did y'all know about THIS?! Also, check out the last paragraph in this one...Who knew the bandana-ed troubadour could cause such homicidal rage? I blame one man and one man only: Rikki Rocket.
Posted by Bree at 08:35 AM | Comments (0)
August 29, 2007
Must. Be. Stopped.
I have so much stuff hanging on my walls, it's absurdity. But alas, that's how I roll. So when I saw this tonight on Happy Mundane, I jammed over to the artist's web site, logged into Paypal and made her me own. Easy peasy; wordy birdy.
Posted by Bree at 11:14 PM | Comments (0)
Injury Update
In an effort to match the pain sustained when I fell down the stairs on Steele St. carrying out my Christmas tree (erm...I admit, there were some needles and limbs scattered to and fro after that debacle), I just ate it down my cellar steps carrying a laundry basket. The only real losers in this situation: my elbow, which is all bloody after its 3-foot drag down the wall, and my left shoulder which bore the brunt of the Bree.
"What is it with you and stairs?," Stephen asked me many months ago and that I still do not know. But put me near 'em and chances are I'm-a eating shit in the foreseeable future. OW.
Posted by Bree at 01:46 PM | Comments (1)
Breegains
Heyyyyy youuuu guyyyys! 20 percent off at My Wines Direct. Use coupon code MWDFF at checkout (good one time, and one time only per dipso). I'm heading over right now to check out their selection of Franciscan and Ridge, as I tend to stick to my favorites - and those be them.
Also go HERE to download and print a coupon (good 'til Saturday) for buy one, get one free at Target Starbucks.
Posted by Bree at 12:21 PM | Comments (0)
¡Barthelona!
Newest plans for my trip 'cross seas come October? Renting an apartment in Barcelona for four days! Say what? Say si!
Oh man, oh man, oh man.
Posted by Bree at 11:22 AM | Comments (0)
Breaking: Money Can Buy You Neither Love Nor Normal Thumbs
My ViVa crush just withered and died like so many useless appendages.
Posted by Bree at 10:57 AM | Comments (0)
August 28, 2007
This Cat
This cat is named "Nude Dude."
This cat is a hairless Sphynx.
This cat is the cat I want.
Posted by Bree at 01:35 PM | Comments (0)
Wallpaper Samples
Here are some I ordered last night from the German company, Wallpaper From the 70's.
For the study; also ordered in brown/lime green for the entryway as the kitchen (visible from the entryway) will eventually be lime green.
For the study.
For the entryway.
Dunno, but I love it.
Here's also another vintage wallpaper vendor I found recently. Can't get samples, as it's on ebay, but definitely worth a look.
Posted by Bree at 11:31 AM | Comments (0)
Slagging on Nature's Candy
For the haters in the crowd, care of the always awesome MolPope.
Posted by Bree at 10:48 AM | Comments (0)
August 27, 2007
I've Never Even Heard of This Show
but something tells me I might like it...
Posted by Bree at 08:42 PM | Comments (0)
Linkety Lanks
Here you go, a round-up of some good stuff on the World Wide Internet:
Gala's 10 Rules for Everyone
Kate Hudson sporting a hat I'm oddly - though undeniably - drawn to; also sucking face
Photos of the storm aftermath in Chicago c/o Design Boner (Mols - my lady - pos. thoughts beaming towards you et other papal units.)
Unawares of potty meatball claim denied!
The "Sinew With Eyes" strikes again
Mr. Right
Posted by Bree at 06:03 PM | Comments (0)
Storm Anticipates My Arrival
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Apparently, a heavy-duty storm brought Williamstown to a level of batterment and bruisdom not seem since the produce section at the old Grand Union.
From ma mamma:
We had quite the lightning storm Sat. evening with high winds. Many limbs down on fence lines, etc. About 12 hrs of clean-up work. I was standing in the kitchen watching the pool when a large object came flying over the road and landed in the shallow end. The splash went 6 ft. in the air. We had no idea what it was and could only see that it wasn't floating. We couldn't go out until the storm stopped. It turned out to be a 2 ft. by 1 ft. stainless chimney cap, about 18 inches high. I assume from the house across the street. Our power was off from 7:00 p.m. until 4:00 a.m.
That's AWESOME. Especially 'cause I missed the "12 hrs. of clean-up work." AHMAGOD. Anyone up for a swim?
Posted by Bree at 11:24 AM | Comments (0)
August 26, 2007
Horoscopic
Most of you (e.g., the boys) prolly don't give a hoot about star-stuff, and I'm certainly no head-in-the-sand devotee of the craft, but this just caught my eye (e-mailed in my "Weekly Love Horoscope" from Tarot.com):
This is the last week of serious Saturn's two-year stay in Leo, the sign of the heart. A review of romantic issues experienced during this period of time is a good way to clear the slate in preparation for a fresh start in relationships. If you've been disappointed in the past, say goodbye to what has happened before instead of giving it the power to define your future.
Innnnteresting, indeed. I'll say, the last two years have been kind of frustrating, romance-wise. I've had a lot of...erm...activity in the sector, and certainly met a few totally stellar dudes (and a few unbelievable a-holes), but truth be told - nothing's really clicked. Not like it has in the past. Hard to say why exactly that is, so perhaps a review is in order. Luckily, Tarot.com goes on to recommend I "...overcome any feelings of isolation this weekend (whether you're alone or with someone who doesn't care enough) by attending to [my] own needs. Spend some money on [my]self, even if it stretches [my] budget."
Done and done!
Posted by Bree at 10:18 PM | Comments (0)
Five Word Movie Review Sunday
Vivid, beautiful, sexy and stylish
Posted by Bree at 08:14 PM | Comments (0)
Today in Spin
From an article about the new David Adjaye-designed Museum of Contemporary Art in Colorado Homes & Lifestyles: "Limited parking will encourage museum-goers to walk, ride their bikes, or receive a public transportation discount..."
Hee. Giggles.
Nice one.
Ten bucks that was the rationale used to get beyond the zoning requirements for on-site parking..."But if you take another look at our lack of adequate accomodations for visitors, you'll see that we are actually helping to cut down on traffic congestion and save the environment. Oh and you're welcome."
Posted by Bree at 05:07 PM | Comments (0)
Spraypaint Yourself Once, Shame On You
Spraypaint yourself twice, you're a fucking nimrod.
This is what my feet look like after being spraypainted black this morning. Even better, this is what my feet look like being spraypainted black and then cleaned with nail polish remover. Repeat: this is the post-cleaning picture, folks. My hands are in even worse shape, but at least on them, the stuff looks like paint - not odd gray and brown and black DIRT.
Clearly, I'm a quick study.
Posted by Bree at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)
Unbelievable
"Everywhere, like, such as..."
Posted by Bree at 12:17 PM | Comments (0)
August 24, 2007
Metafurs
Taking out the trash tonight, I stopped to notice and admire this magnificent vine that's growing over my back fence. Covered in big clusters of purple and green grapes, it was resting peacefully in the twilight [such schlock - ed.] in such a way that I ran back in to grab my (recently reinstated) 35mm for a few snaps. Midway through the little shoot, I began following the trails of the plant with my eyes to find different angles. Doing so, I realized the vine had spread far beyond the rails of the fence and was actually wrapped insidiously around several branches of a nearby apple tree. I was a little shocked by how alien these grasping green tentacles were; how flagrantly officious. They were like little boa constrictors wrapped around each branch. This pretty, fragrant vine - which moments earlier, I had been admiring and cooing over in a state of Coloradoan bliss - was conducting an assault on my tree. This beautiful, alluring thing was trying to take over.
I put the camera on the ground and ripped and tore the vine down with my hands. Then I went into the alley and pulled it down from that side. I filled two trash cans with probably 40 lbs. of plant. The road back there is stained with grape juice; there are berries scattered all over. But it was the pleasure I found in the process of tearing this monstrous growth apart that was the most surprising. I must admit, I haven't been that satisfied in a while. I haven't been that certain in a while.
The metaphor in it all is clear: I'm feeling choked by the pretty things. And I am. Myself chief among the offenders. Myself perhaps the only offender. I've found recently that I've gotten back into the habit of nodding "Yes" when I'm not sure I mean it. Thus, I've gotten back into the habit of feeling trapped by my own acquiescence, by my own passivity - a state of being I'm never comfortable with. I've gotten back into the habit of saying, "I should" rather than "I want." And I've gotten back into the habit of dealing with my own limitations by withdrawing.
Time to rip it all down, I suppose.
Back there and in here.
Dang, cuz. This growing up business ain't for sissies.
Or grape lovers.
Posted by Bree at 07:36 PM | Comments (0)
Friday Fuzzies
Posted by Bree at 03:15 PM | Comments (0)
New Schtuff at INV/ALT
Angela just added a bunch of kickass plates to her Etsy shop. Go and support. Boys -> NBenz: Can't speak for the Commies, but pretty much any girl without dreams of a socialized society would love one of these.
Posted by Bree at 02:05 PM | Comments (0)
Mile High Mod
Attn: Stalkers! Looking for me tonight? I'll be hitting the Denver Modernism show to fondle some bakelite and show me some mad love and support for the P's, who are offering floor models at 30 -50% off. Details is (and I post this verbatim even with its brazenly improper capitalization - I'm daring like that) as follows:
Preview Gala & Sale
FRIDAY 7 - 10pm
Admission $10
- Live 60s Instrumental Surf Guitar Music
- Super Special Guests (Oh, yes - the rumors are flying!)
- Tiki Bar, wine station and Hors D'oeuvres
- Retro Slide Show with L.A.'s Charles Phoenix
- Complimentary valet parking
- and more surprises!
More details about the weekend's events here. If you're looking for me, I'll be the asurcial one saddled up to the tiki bar drunkenly mumbling about an Eames brother sandwich.
Posted by Bree at 10:41 AM | Comments (0)
August 23, 2007
Is It a Bad Sign...
when a perceptive friend recommends you buy this little tome?!
Her review: Seriously good book. Meant for therapists, not for laypeople, so it's not some retarded chicken soup for your crotch-hairs bullshit.
Sold!
Posted by Bree at 12:56 PM | Comments (0)
Whole Lotta Lez
The Lez Zeppelin show last night was incredible, incredible, incredible. I'm not kidding. Those girls JAMMED. It was one of the best nights of recent memory: hot and sweaty and dancy and unbelievably fun. The hammer of the lez has struck me, and I'm done smitten. Deeeyamn, cuz. Custard Pie? You must be kidding...wow...
Posted by Bree at 10:36 AM | Comments (0)
August 22, 2007
Posted by Bree at 07:38 PM | Comments (0)
Two Places I Would Like to Be
(Both lifted from the Design Idea Book mentioned on Design*sponge. I know. I too am shocked that I'm citing anything. It's totally against the whole collaborative content manifest I...er...just made up now. CoCoMa. Wave of the future. Mark these words.)
One place I'm not sure I'd like to be, but am trying to decide: Lez Zeppelin at the Bluebird. Your girl is feeling a little surly, a little asocial (Cpt. Spicer was trying to think up an amalgam of those words this morning - asurcial was the one bandied about) and a little under the weather so can't decide if a lady-fied John Bonham would irritate or titillate. Such are the decisions I wrestle with.
Posted by Bree at 03:22 PM | Comments (0)
August 21, 2007
Final-Fucking-Ly
(Jack Black on Loving Cup?! Whaaaaa!??????? Oh my.)
Posted by Bree at 06:23 PM | Comments (0)
Vindicated by Vogue
Gadddamn, I'm hip. This is the exact same color I just painted my dining room. I'm going to go make love to myself now. Perdon.
Posted by Bree at 02:52 PM | Comments (0)
Midday Message From Me and The Deuce
Kind of sums up my summer...toodles!
Posted by Bree at 01:17 PM | Comments (0)
It's Tuesday Morning!
Let's have some chickens in diapers, shall we?
Oh it's nothing, really. My pleasure.
RELATED: Egg Adverts.
Posted by Bree at 10:33 AM | Comments (0)
August 20, 2007
Oh Man Oh Man Oh Man!
Are we in trouble or what? Design*Sponge just posted the Bloggers' Guide to Online Shopping. [gulp.]
I may (may) resurface sometime next week. 'til then, just send sustenance in the form of Zone bars, Diet Red Bulls and baby carrots. Thank you and goodbye.
UPDATE: Here's part two.
Posted by Bree at 08:31 AM | Comments (0)
August 17, 2007
HRH Fotografia
Grandma’s Shoes by Anna M. White
Bored this Friday? Bust out the biscuits and tea and have a sitdown with some some stellar amateur photography out of Enguland --> How We Are: Photographing Britain.
Posted by Bree at 10:52 AM | Comments (0)
Out Like Trout
Kiddados! As of 4 this afternoon, I'll be on the highway road to Nebraskey. As such, I won't have my typical access to the World Wide Internet all weekend (this might kill me) and my cellular service also will be very limited.
If you - or any of your fellow NRA members - need to get in touch with me or The Deuce, it just might have to wait until our triumphant return from the land of corn on Sunday afternoon. That goes double for Heston, Moses or no.
Posted by Bree at 09:25 AM | Comments (0)
August 16, 2007
Bullseye! The Ideal Employer!
InquisiCorp, Corp. is a Christ-focused, leading provider of curricula and resources in the fast-growing homeschool industry.
Search OVER.
Posted by Bree at 03:10 PM | Comments (0)
August 15, 2007
Warmus Fuzzius Maximus
Posted by Bree at 11:44 PM | Comments (0)
A-Haps: August 2007
Eating: BALLS
Reading: Merry-making in Old Russia by Evgeny Popov (a gift from Natasha)
Listening: Hot Hot Heat; Antony and the Johnsons; Devendra Banhart (NB: look for Gael Garcia Bernal in his video!)
Watching: The Hills!
Buying: Curtains, sigh. A new nightguard for my wee chompers, ugh.
Wanting: Everything, naturally, but am trying to curtail the expenditures.
Excited About: Google Reader, the alliteration of Matt and Margo in Massachusetts, my trip to Lake McConaughy this weekend, seeing the A-list fam and frenz during my trip to the east coast in September (6 nights in Williamstown, 3 nights in NYC), my Mom's trip to DENVER shortly thereafter!!!
Trying: To get a job...erk...kinda...yep.
Posted by Bree at 06:34 PM | Comments (0)
Boston Baked Bestie
It's pretty obvious to me that the reason I haven't been writing about Rick leaving for Boston is because I'm pretending he hasn't. But today I found myself buying Wheat Thins and Animal Crackers (both staples of the kitchen on Birch) and staring longingly at the Zingers (just a jest - those are so nast) and frozen pizzas (ibid) and wishing I could eat crap and talk things over with my BBF (boy best friend).
Helping in no small part to add to the pain of his absence, I've also had to cough up $25 to get my lawn mowed (hopefully there'll be less of a piss and moan re: Deuce turds and over-active sprinklerization if money's exchanged) and begin to try to figure out else in Denver I'd want to go to shitty Catherine Zeta-Jones movies with, or drive in trucks up into the countryside with, or bake pies and drink beers on a mountaintop with.
Boy I really make Rick sound gay, don't I? And I haven't even mentioned his sixth grade PERM...!!!!!!
BWAHAHAHAHAH. Seriously.
A perm.
In eastern Colorado.
Not gay (just brave - and a dedicated follower of fashion), but I still miss him. I do. I'm looking very forward to Thanksgiving when I'm going to go to Boston and then drag him to Williamstown for the traditional root-vegetable-based New England feast of plenty. I'm also looking very forward to when I actually get photographic evidence of the curly-haired lad (NBENZ: It 'twere a HOME perm!) which I will promptly turn into the splash page of SweetNB. Of that, you have my spiral-waved word.
Posted by Bree at 03:09 PM | Comments (0)
Hallelujah Jeff Gillooly!
Sucker for the crust
Looks like the geniiii behind the brownie edge pan have come up with a new innovation to tempt this culinary numbnutty into hanging up her cellphone, putting down her Progresso and spanking the crap out of some no-boil lasagna noodles.
You heard me.
Spanking the crap.
Mmm, appetizing. Just like Tal Bagels.
(Link curtsy Angie, Annnnnngie)
Posted by Bree at 02:28 PM | Comments (0)
August 14, 2007
I Love This, I Want This, I Absolutely Must Have This
Especially if it means returning to the halcyon days of 2006.
Curtsy: Some sort of mysterious foreign web site
Posted by Bree at 08:20 PM | Comments (0)
Hi, My Name is Mat
I bought this bathmat today. It is soft and nice and reasonably priced. I like it. It is my new best friend. I am now going to rub it all over me, as I do with all my new best friends. It is happy to live here.
Posted by Bree at 05:44 PM | Comments (0)
Not Naming Any Names
But there was a time in my life (2006) when I dated someone who didn't know the difference between Cracker Barrel and Crate & Barrel. The relationship went south sometime after that chestnut was thrown into the fire.
And no, this wasn't the guy who majored in gym.
That's all.
Back to work.
Posted by Bree at 02:06 PM | Comments (0)
RIP Rizzuto
No Yankee fan I be, but just had to take a moment to give a respectful shout-out (in my church voice, naturally) to Phil Rizzuto. Ever since the ninth grade, when my roommate in boarding school dated his nephew Mike (a kid who pronounced his hometown "Reviyah" and had Homer Simpson's head spraypainted on his jeans), I've felt a special kinship to the man. And, after reading the article, I see my instincts were right.
One question though: why didn't the Times feel it relevant to mention his awesome Money Store ads? Too low-falutin' for the paper of record? My word. As my mammy always said, "Judge not lest ye be named Lester." We've all gotta make a buck - especially if it's just at seven and a half percent.
That's right.
Seven and a half percent.
Posted by Bree at 12:25 PM | Comments (0)
August 13, 2007
No Spin Zone? Hardly.
The overwhelmingly negative implications of this article offend on nearly every level. Has anyone even bothered to ask why a young girl would need feeling in her lips?
Posted by Bree at 10:55 PM | Comments (0)
Without Going Into Too Many Details
The Deuce just...licked my boob. My bare boob. On the side, but still.
Direct hit. Seriously.
I feel as though I may have to file some sort of police statement or register with a federal database or something. Any input on how to live with yourself after getting to second base with your DOG? Damn. Now she's gonna expect me to call and go to the movies and stuff. Or, worse yet, reciprocate. Women! Can't live with 'em; sure as hell can't give 'em a quick hug while you're topless.
Posted by Bree at 01:05 PM | Comments (0)
Seriously Though...
Is there anything better than spending a Monday morning writing COVER LETTERS? Well, I mean, of course - besides roofie-ing my scanner into (relative) submission and finally FINALLY making all my hard-copy clips into computer files? 'cause if so, I sure as H.L. can't think of it. This has been one of the finest experiences of my early-30's and I'll go to me grave shoutin' such.
Speaking of, feel free to kill me.
But first, please pass the Grolsch. Mama haben durst.
Eric, level with me - is this the real reason you got out of trucking?
Posted by Bree at 11:39 AM | Comments (0)
August 12, 2007
Rick's Move to Massachusetts: Nature's Response
The opposite of a wicked pissah.
Maybe time to return to the great state of landlockitude?
Just a suggestion...
Posted by Bree at 01:21 PM | Comments (0)
Picture of the Day
This is from NYPD Officer Russel Timoshenko's funeral in Brooklyn earlier this summer.
Posted by Bree at 12:24 PM | Comments (0)
August 10, 2007
Five Word Movie Review Friday
The 25th Hour
Should've been a lot cooler.
Posted by Bree at 10:07 PM | Comments (0)
August 09, 2007
Mistake!
Achhh! I made the wicked mistake of striking up a conversation with (and giving my name and number to) a manager of a wine shop here in town regarding a couple of cheapo Argentinian selections, and now the dude calls me CONSTANTLY. Seriously. Fielded a ring from him in the middle of the Ball Ball (uhm...about 9 p.m. on Saturday) and he just left another message wondering whether I wanted the Zolo Malbec or Torrontes, and could I please call him back as soon as possible to let him know.
Dude.
NEITHER.
This girly's surly and no you most certainly cannot go for a ride in her curly wurly.
Back the fuck off.
UPDATE: I swear to the allmitey, HE JUST CALLED AGAIN. Lesson learned - NEVER give your number to a liquor store manager. NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER OH MY GOD, WHEN WILL IT END?!!!!
Posted by Bree at 12:41 PM | Comments (0)
The Rush Show: A Story Told in Outbox Text Message
Sent Aug 8, 8:04 p.m.
NEIL FUCKEN PERT
Sent Aug 8, 9:49 p.m.
Dude's on a fucking lute.
Sent: Aug 8, 9:53 p.m.
GEDDY LEE AND I ARE WEARING THE SAME SHOES.
Sent: Aug 8, 10:10 p.m.
I really feel like this kind of stuff (shoes) doesn't happen to other people. SUBDIVISIONS!
Sent: Aug 8, 10:27 p.m.
People are so hammered - there was just a chick puking AND getting arrested - i swear - in the ladies. And the cop was a DUDE.
Sent: Aug 8, 10:33 p.m.
PERT drum solo. 6 coors.
Sent: Aug 8, 10:39 p.m.
Is there anything he CAN'T do? viva la pert
Sent Aug 8, 10:40 p.m.
Were the roasted chickens on stage at Radio City? Just wondering.
Posted by Bree at 10:59 AM | Comments (0)
Parfum
I got a lil vial of Agent Provocateur parfum in my most recent Sephora order, and have been wearing it around for the past few days. You know, to the gym and the dog park. Anywhere I really need to impress. It smells pretty good to me, Madam of Olfactos, but - ladies, listen up: I have gotten *SO MANY* (two) compliments on it from dudes. Seriouuuz. One guy last night told me how great I smelled and then started free-associating adjective-based clauses (repeat: adjective-based clauses) including "fresh sheets" and "with an edge." He loooved it - and was married and not hitting on me, so his opinion somehow means more.
Anywhoos, seeing as all I do is try to please and/or shore up my crumbling ego with material goods, I'm going to buy myself a tajut of the stuff before I go out tonight. Guaranteed the menfolk quake in my scentilicious wake. Constantin - you have been warned.
UPDATE: Denver does not carry Agent Provacateur. Now I am forced to sport an eau of mixed parts laundry detergent, frustration and Deuce. Sadness, badness, hurtness and pain. Pass the Good-n-Plentys.
Posted by Bree at 10:34 AM | Comments (0)
Rush Rush (for the Yayo)
Seriously. I take back, like, 80 percent of the negative things I ever said about Rush. And not just 'cause Geddy Lee and I were wearing the SAME SHOES. Or because there was a woman simultaneously puking and getting arrested in the bathroom stall next to me. Or because we got to ROCK seats in the 13th row. Or because they played for THREE HOURS.
No, there were some other reasons too. Escaping me right at the moment, but there's a nagging memory that they might've begun with Coors and ended with Light.
Ah yes. Rush. They played tight and they played hard but MAN - those lyrics absolutely suck. It's phenomenal. One tune's chorus was, "Some are cursed and some are blessed." Which they sang over the backdrop of pictures of, like, a wilted tree and a flourishing one. And a poor person and a rich one. It was all very moving. I know I came to some realizations midway through that I should renounce all my possessions and move to a commune in Death Valley and stop shaving my pits.
Then the beer lady came back by and I forgot what I was thinking.
Of course, nothing - and I mean nuthin, beer lady - compares to the amaaaaayzzzzing show Rufus put on on Tuesday night. Dude sang "Across the Universe" with Sean Lennon. And dressed up like Liza Minelli to perform an intricate little dance number with all of his band. (Let's just say somersaults were involved.) And rocked out on some old Irish folk tune with NO microphones or amps. And sang two Judy Garland tunes with just a piano accompaniment. All in addition to serving up the audience his usual overwhelming omelette of awesomeness. Man. If he's coming to your town and you have a chance, I couldn't recommend this one enough. I mean, he's no NEIL FUCKEN PERT but, you know, give the boy a chance. For my moola, he's the most innovative - yet classically grounded - artiste recording today. Viva la Rufus!
Posted by Bree at 09:38 AM | Comments (0)
August 08, 2007
Three Things I Love
Dimples.
A-Basin.
Bruce Springsteen.
Word. (via Awfulplasticsurgery.com)
Posted by Bree at 01:50 PM | Comments (0)
One of Those Days...
When I'm just *SO STOKED* I don't have to rely on the MTA no mo.
Oh well. At least the millions of people trying to get to work today in 95-degree heat can wait in clean, air-conditioned stations and rely on clear service announcements and helpful advice from transit workers.
Posted by Bree at 10:21 AM | Comments (0)
August 07, 2007
Shows!
Looking for me tonight? I'll be at the Fillmore, jamming to Rufus Wainwright. This'll be the FOURTH time I've seen the young Rufe and, I tell you - he couldn't give a better live show. So! Psyched! There may still be tickets, in which case I urge you to pounce while the pouncing's good.
Oh and if you're looking for me tomorrow night? I'll be at the Rush show at Red Rocks. 13th row! For realz! Today's Tom Sawyer does get by on me, apparently. Pass the Mad Dog. Seeing as I only know the one song, I'm gonna need a coupla swigs...
Posted by Bree at 08:16 AM | Comments (0)
August 06, 2007
Now That's What I Call Viral Marketing, Vol. 14
Grow, groom and wax your own man magnet at Burger King's lil pet moustache site. I think it's kind of fun, but as we all know - my standards could be higher.
Cuidado, kiddados: be sure to turn down the volume if you're at work.
Or church.
Posted by Bree at 05:48 PM | Comments (0)
Little Push
Awww! Look at that! P Design AND INV/ALT got a write-up in "This Week in Denver." Wheeee! Fame! I wonder what the de-ntellegentsia would say if they knew what trouble those three got up to at the Ball Ball...
Abysmal picture not befitting the collective Colorado coolitude (coCoco) represented by this ball-loving trois-some
OH AND BIG NBenz: Look for a FULL-PAGE feature on Angela's snappable wine glasses in September's Bon Appétit.
Posted by Bree at 11:07 AM | Comments (0)
Pass the Merchy on the Lefthand Side
In the dog days of summer, few things excite me more than thinking about winter. Specifically, the clothes. I'm such a woolens, sweater, cozy socks, fleece chastity belt kind of girl woman it's a little out of hand. Especially given that I've taken to cranking the AC recentementes so I can wear my hoodies around the house. Not very earth first. Next stop fake snow.
So, in the midst of my excitement over this weekend's rain and gloom and mopey hangover/movie/internet porn weather, I managed to tear myself away from www.hotslutslikeitinthebuttandotherplaces.com long enough to actually ingest Lucky Magazine (I've been tossing them the second they get in the door lately; that shizz is uggs) and get some fall shopping done over at my favorite store, Stars and Infinite Darkness. Granted, I only really bought jewelry. And a t-shirt. But I'll pretend it goes along with the brrrrr! winter! point of this post anyway. Which, in addition to thinking about brrrrr! winter! is to admire my style and grace.
And then check and see if that hot sluts link really holds water.
ANYS! BEHOLD! (Boys - feel free to step away...and back to that dark den of haberdashery known as The Chess King.)
Ahpeele tee for a mere 28 dubloons
MMM by Laura East brass necklace
Ach Ach Liebling: Capturing a Sperm Whale necklace (If only there was a squid in the mix!)
Spragwerks Kismet ring (to match the Spragwerks star ring, which I wear almost every day)
And the piece de resistance - this gold, glass and onyx ring from Magpie...loooove!
Next stop: clothing. For realz. Though am thinking I might wait until I get to New York in September for the big spend, something tells me I won't be able to resist the conch wail of Neimans and...er...Old Navy (whaaat?) for that long. Or, really, for today.
Posted by Bree at 07:47 AM | Comments (0)
August 04, 2007
Let Them Eat Balls!
Here's hoping this magnificent example of cakery stays true to its inspiration and, er...tastes better than it looks.
Posted by Bree at 05:29 PM | Comments (0)
Saaaaa-hiked for Taaaaanoite
This snap's been on the site before, but I think she just about perfectly sums up the ridonkuuuulitude that's in store with this crew. Especially after a couple two three seven rounds of champagne and SoCo punch mixed with the Japanese balls Pifuka's promised.
Doomed.
All of us.
Posted by Bree at 02:25 PM | Comments (0)
August 03, 2007
The Ball Ball Cometh
Tomorrow, many of the Colorado crew will join together at my crib in a semi-formal celebration of ball-based cuisine and going-away party for Rick known simply as THE BALL BALL.
The innuendo may be fast and furious, but the mandate is simple: invitees must revel in the delight and deliciousness that balls bring to our lives. In keeping, they also must bring a dish of their favorite balls. As well as help me kick the keg I just ordered, drop the hammer on some serious funk in the backyard and show the new neighbors that this little Yankee whirlwind of peel-outs and poor gardening is a master of balls-to-the-wall-berserkitude when it comes right down to it.
I wish all of you who aren't here, were.
'cause I know how much you like balls too.
I do. I've seen the video.
Posted by Bree at 07:53 PM | Comments (0)
Good Morning to You!
Posted by Bree at 08:06 AM | Comments (0)
August 02, 2007
Another Hard Day at the Office
The time I've spent trying to find the PERFECT housewarming gift for Matt and Margo...
Posted by Bree at 04:01 PM | Comments (0)
August 01, 2007
This Picture of Carrots is Totally Tuber-lur
(From Happy Mundane.)
Posted by Bree at 10:36 PM | Comments (0)
Cancroed
Due to events beyond control, Rick and I only made it as far as Georgetown before we had to turn around. Lady's sick, and that's all there is to it. I'll be at the doctor later this afternoon. Seems I'm incubating some sort of infection; an infection that probably wouldn't have done anyone any favors on a several hour hike past the tree-line. Epiphany, indeed.
Luckily, we did get a chance to stop for some Corn Nuts and Red Bull along the way. Soooo! Morning well spent. Pass the Beam. And the leeches.
Posted by Bree at 08:30 AM | Comments (0)