August 21, 2008

My Socks Make Me Famous

Lookee loo, I got the above featured on Jezebel in their Past Fashions: Sports section. It is sorrowful that there is no Olympic event for tee-ball. 'cause I was a natural.

Posted by Bree at 04:16 PM | Comments (0)

August 02, 2008

Picture of the Day

Via NY Times

Psst, this one's awesome too:

Excellent work, Finlay MacKay! Oh yes, and you too Nastasia.

Posted by Bree at 01:39 PM | Comments (0)

July 24, 2008

Myrtle the Wordle Plus Some Quotes From the Former Prime Minister of France

I'm kind of bored by this Wordle thing, seeing as every single design blog has done it over the past week, but alas - I'm also kind of bored with reading depressing, work-related articles about veterans and chronic pain. So there you go: damned if you do, damned if you donut. Here's S + B's word cloud from its July entries:

In other news, these quotes from Georges Clemenceau are cracking my vaguely hungover shit UP this a.m.

"Americans have no capacity for abstract thought, and make bad coffee." (True and true over in this piece. - Ed.)

"My son is 22 years old. If he had not become a Communist at 22, I would have disowned him. If he is still a Communist at 30, I will do it then."

"America is the only nation in history which miraculously has gone directly from barbarism to degeneration without the usual interval of civilization."

Posted by Bree at 09:20 AM | Comments (0)

July 22, 2008

Right Up My Eerie Alley

I'm very excited for a very nerdy reason: The Rescuers arrived (via Netflix) in my mailbox just this afternoon. Yes, The Rescuers. That animated classic about Bernard and Bianca and Penny (OMG! PENNY!) that scared the crap out of me (and surely into my under-roos) repeatedly as a child. It's odd to have such vivid memories about something I haven't watched in at least 20 years - but there you have it. I can't wait to pop her in and get that weird nostalgia/deja vu feeling you get when you see something you last saw through the eyes of youth. Kind of like when I bust out those old "Read Along Records" that my parents still have and just by looking at the pictures, am instantly transported back to lying on that scratchy old green carpet in our living room, learning my ABC's with my sweet hi-fi tutor.

Posted by Bree at 04:52 PM | Comments (3)

June 16, 2008

Scrunch or Fold?

I scrunch.
Except when I fold.

(Thanks, MPS!)

Posted by Bree at 10:13 PM | Comments (1)

June 15, 2008

More Underminer!

For I will continue milking this mini-connection until the constantly hugged goats come home.

Posted by Bree at 06:35 PM | Comments (0)

June 05, 2008

Off Off Broadway

Margo's newest movie, Off Off Broadway, is online HERE. It's very good, and lending a fun diversion on this windy, rainy and frigid day. Also, bonus info: I (kind of) went on a date(-ish) with the guy in the beard in the first five minutes. Of course, it didn't work out, seeing as I LIVE IN DENVER. But whatever. As if you couldn't tell by like the last 50 posts (minus the Door to Door Organics one), I am (kind of) constantly fondled by fame(-ish).

UPDATE: Margo's in pasties!

Posted by Bree at 01:43 PM | Comments (0)

I am a Complete Wishta

Above, Mike Albo as the Underminer (the best friend who casually destroys your life). Pick up his book to enjoy at your leisure and bask in the illustrations by the lovely CARL J.F., the talent behind the Sweet and Bitter logo and various other important design pieces.

Via Radar because that's apparently the only site I read

Posted by Bree at 09:15 AM | Comments (0)

May 30, 2008

Anticipation

"PC or Mac?"

Posted by Bree at 10:12 AM | Comments (0)

May 07, 2008

Terribly Sad Day for Broadcasting, Sexuality

Talk Sex with Sue Johanson, arguably one of the best shows ever produced, is going off the air. Sunday will be the last broadcast. This devastates me, as she's responsible for one of the best five minutes in the history of television. You know the one? When she talked with an overweight guy who was afraid his girlfriend was gay because she liked to fondle his man-boobs? No. Well, read that again. Sit with it for a minute. And believe me when I tell you it was gold. 100-percent pure Canadian gold.

I suppose this means I'm going to have to find some other octogenarian smut-talker to fill the void by Monday at the very latest. Any takers?

Posted by Bree at 05:54 PM | Comments (0)

Summing It All Up

Thanks Ziggy!

Posted by Bree at 12:48 PM | Comments (0)

April 25, 2008

Bone St.

Gavin McInnes's new-to-me web site, Street Boners and TV Carnage, has got some serious giggles on it. I especially enjoy the Street Boners part, wherein they brutally parse the outfits of assorted...free spirits. But I'm cruel. Things like this make me laugh. I also like lighting cats on fire and muff-punching Salvation Army coin collectors. Sue me.

My favorite of the day:

This isn’t a beer belly. It’s a gas tank for a fat piece of shit machine.

Posted by Bree at 04:35 PM | Comments (0)

April 22, 2008

Learn Something New Every Few Weeks or So

From my brother:

Wondering what the origin of the phrase "The wind that shakes the barley" was, as it's in a Shane McGowan song and the title of a Ken Loach movie, I googled it and on wikipedia found this crazy detail which is so evocative:

The Wind That Shakes the Barley is an Irish ballad written by Robert Dwyer Joyce (1836-1883), a Limerick-born poet and professor of English literature. Its title was borrowed for the Ken Loach film which won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 2006.
The song is written from the perspective of a doomed young Wexford rebel who is about to sacrifice his relationship with his loved one and plunge into the cauldron of violence associated with the 1798 rebellion in Ireland. The references to barley in the song derive from the fact that the rebels often carried barley oats in their pockets as provisions for when on the march. This gave rise to the post-rebellion phenomenon of barley growing and marking the "croppy-holes", mass unmarked graves which slain rebels were thrown into, symbolising the regenerative nature of Irish resistance to British rule.

If I had less tact, this post would've tutully been entitled "Mob Barley." Awww...it's good craic like y'know?

Posted by Bree at 12:44 PM | Comments (0)

April 19, 2008

Time Lapsed

From LA to NYC in four minutes, care of Michel and Oliver Gondry.

Posted by Bree at 02:00 PM | Comments (2)

April 09, 2008

Youtube Love c/o Capt. Spicer

Boners! Check out the reference to Porcelain. Dokken yells out "It's not fair."

Posted by Bree at 01:50 PM | Comments (6)

April 06, 2008

Before You Start Enjoying Your Sunday...

Please put a condom on your head and bring me a Mai Tai.

Posted by Bree at 11:12 AM | Comments (2)

April 03, 2008

Answer

Posted by Bree at 05:42 PM | Comments (0)

March 20, 2008

DMX Weighs In On E-Commerce, Presidential Race

How do you feel about the digital—like, everything going through the Internet as far as…
I don’t even think about it. I don’t even think about it.

The music business is pretty much going in that direction.
I don’t know. That’s just… that’s probably not… People want the actual CDs not no shit that’s disposable.

***

Are you following the presidential race?
Not at all.

You’re not? You know there’s a Black guy running, Barack Obama and then there’s Hillary Clinton.
His name is Barack?!

Barack Obama, yeah.
Barack?!

Barack.
What the fuck is a Barack?! Barack Obama. Where he from, Africa?

Yeah, his dad is from Kenya.
Barack Obama?

Yeah.
What the fuck?! That ain’t no fuckin’ name, yo. That ain’t that nigga’s name. You can’t be serious. Barack Obama. Get the fuck outta here.

You’re telling me you haven’t heard about him before.
I ain’t really paying much attention.

I mean, it’s pretty big if a Black…
Wow, Barack! The nigga’s name is Barack. Barack? Nigga named Barack Obama. What the fuck, man?! Is he serious? That ain’t his fuckin’ name. Ima tell this nigga when I see him, “Stop that bullshit. Stop that bullshit” [laughs] “That ain’t your fuckin’ name.” Your momma ain’t name you no damn Barack.

Via XXLmag.com. Thanks to Marcus, who calls the piece "Perhaps one of the most/least enlightening things I’ve read in a long time."

Posted by Bree at 10:52 AM | Comments (2)

March 11, 2008

What About Prom Night or a Special Evening Out?

OMG. EXTREME SHOIGGLES.* Thanks, Margo!

*Shoiggles = shared office-giggles; brother to hoiggles -> home office giggle, and cousin to cubigiggles and offigiggles.

Posted by Bree at 11:48 AM | Comments (1)

March 10, 2008

Monday Afternoon Family Circus - Enjoy!

Posted by Bree at 05:02 PM | Comments (0)

Cloudiya Explains It All

Exciting news from Margo...er, I mean Cloudiya Noque.

"We, the creators of 'Trillions,' our camp homage to the nighttime soaps of the 1980s, are proud to announce our featured series full-season debut on PitTV, the video channel of the People's Improv theater and the Independent Comedy Network, which works with top emerging comedy talent to develop, license and distribute episodic comedy content.

We owe a great deal of thanks to PitTV's Ali Farahnakian ("Saturday Night Live","Video Shmideo") and Kevin Allison ("The State") for their belief in and support of our work, and for making this possible!!!

New episodes will air every two weeks on PitTV's main page... Just follow the link below, and bookmark it!

http://thepit.independentcomedy.tv/

Find more videos like this on People's Improv Theater

NB: Look for my brother - wearing a conspicuous amount of "base" - in episode three (above)! And Joe as the face transplant Doctor in Episode Six!

Watch some of the ep's NOW I tell ye, NOW over at Margo's Youtube Page or just search for "Trillions."

Posted by Bree at 11:52 AM | Comments (0)

March 07, 2008

Will Arnett Takes Things Up a Notch

"I can't believe my dick just barfed that much."

Posted by Bree at 03:27 PM | Comments (1)

March 06, 2008

Geddy Up

Stephen just sent me this bit from The Family Guy for the specific reason that it makes reference to my all-time favorite assertation, ever, ever, ever. Watch until the end to see what that is.

Posted by Bree at 01:16 PM | Comments (1)

March 05, 2008

Comforting

I received this card today from Angela care of Some Ecards.com ("For when you care enough to hit send."). Hilarity was ensuant.

Posted by Bree at 06:53 PM | Comments (0)

March 03, 2008

About Last Night

Sarah M*nte sent me the DVD version ($6.99) of the above as a special (and much deserved) "Get Well" gift. I haven't viewed the movie in question since elementary school - when I obviously failed to appreciate the erotic nuances of Jim Belushi - and couldn't be more excited to dive back in. Especially since reading Sarah's accompanying overview:

"It's so hideous, it's amazing. Just to prepare you:

- there's great views of 80's closets
- amazing apartment color schemes
- fantastic sex scene with sweatpants
- Demi and Rob have identical bodies
- famous extras
- moments of Mamet dialogue mixed in with trite writing"

As spectacular as that all sounds, the back copy may truly take the crap-cake:

"But Danny and Debbie wind up living together and amidst the daily drudge of domestic life, they begin to realize that making love is easy, saying 'I love you' more difficult, and being in love the hardest of all."

And PLAY.

Posted by Bree at 08:10 PM | Comments (0)

February 25, 2008

Mmm, Lasagna

How to make Garfield poignant, meaningful and contemporary?
Kick Garfield to the curb.

(Link via Defamer)

Posted by Bree at 10:06 PM | Comments (0)

February 09, 2008

This Clip Reminds Me of My Brother (Who Was Excited to Go On the Atkins Diet for One Reason and One Reason Only)

Posted by Bree at 09:22 AM | Comments (0)

The Celine Routine

Posted by Bree at 08:47 AM | Comments (0)

February 01, 2008

Ah, to Be in Her Shoes

NSFW

Posted by Bree at 08:41 AM | Comments (0)

January 25, 2008

Neckless Children Find Relief, Acceptance in Finnish Accordian Industry

Juuso from Taipalsaari

Sanna from Äänekoski

Julia from Sievi

Entry inspiration stolen from Capt. Spicer, who would also like to point out the Finnish Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks:

"No, I said YOU can go YOUR OWN way. Now, where is that cup of Glögi and my assistant? I need her to blow it up my ass."

Posted by Bree at 03:44 PM | Comments (0)

January 18, 2008

Speaking of Flickr...

This picture just showed up on my "Everyone's Photos" randomizer. It makes me giggle. That woman is all, "I'm outtttaaa heeeyah" (RIP: The State.) and the other woman is all serene...and nude. Kind of like the chick in The Shining. Just sayin'.

Posted by Bree at 02:43 PM | Comments (0)

January 15, 2008

I Love Both Diane Keaton and Her Lips

Posted by Bree at 05:44 PM | Comments (0)

January 14, 2008

Headline of the Day

Moviegoers Find Uplift In Jack Nicholson And Morgan Freeman's Slow Deaths

Though many critics have dismissed the Jack Nicholson/Morgan Freeman dying-buddy flick as shameless, tear-jerking treacle, we found ourselves unexpectedly moved by the film. We'll even admit--more than a little sheepishly--to misting up at a late third-act plot twist we never saw coming [spoilers follow]:

While laying in bed in their shared hospital room, finally ready for death following the completion of their "bucket list," Freeman reveals to his globe-trotting partner that he is, in fact, God, and that if the anxious Nicholson will allow himself to drift off to sleep, he'll awaken the next morning completely cancer-free and ready to enjoy several more years of life. Nicholson, though skeptical at first, eventually accepts that his traveling companion is his Maker (there's even a knowing mention of Freeman's resemblance to the deity of Evan Almighty), closes his eyes, and is gently snoring within seconds. Convinced that he's safely asleep, Freeman rises, pillow in hand, and snuffs out his gullible roommate, whispering as Nicholson's arms quickly cease flailing, "You never should've fucking laughed at me for being afraid to jump out of that plane on our skydiving trip. Who's not so brave in the face of death now, you miserable old bastard?"

(via the always awesome Defamer)

Posted by Bree at 11:57 AM | Comments (0)

January 07, 2008

David Lynch on iPhone

Thanks, El!

Posted by Bree at 05:28 PM | Comments (0)

December 19, 2007

Recent Goodies Found on My Desktop

As previously noted, I'm trying to rid myself of useless desktop fodder that I've been collecting for the likes of ye all these many months since my hard drive crashed. Behold what I unearth after hitting the "Upload File" button:

You're very welcome!

Posted by Bree at 01:16 PM | Comments (0)

Wednesday Morning Entertainment Update

Did you know Eric Stoltz was the original Marty McFly in Back to the Future? And was canned after he shot a good three to five weeks of footage because he was too intense? Yeah, me neither. The upshot is, at least we'll all have Huey Lewis singing "Back in Tiiiiiyime" in our heads all day. Merry Christmas.

Posted by Bree at 08:04 AM | Comments (0)

December 15, 2007

Found in Translation

Feeling sentimental for an overhyped -but very worthwhile - piece of film from a few years back? Settle in and feast your eyes on the following to finally find out just what Bill Murray whispers into ScarJo's ear at the end of Lost in Translation:

Maaaah! Murray!

Posted by Bree at 11:58 PM | Comments (0)

December 02, 2007

Titus Andronicus! The Musical!

The boy and I just got back from a special showing (read: free!) of Buntport Theater's latest production, the heeeelarious Titus Andronicus! The Musical! For those close enough to hear the clickety clacking of my typewritery, I strongly strongly urge you to go check this one out. We were pretty much doubled over in guffawdom.

Here's a podcast with my lovely Hannah explaining some of the ins and outs of the play. It's a MUST LISTEN (caps mine).

And here's today's review from The Denver Post, which includes my favorite description ever of our fine alma mater: "Colorado College, an elite liberal arts college that breeds unorthodox intellectuals..." Ah, the accolades just keep on coming.

Posted by Bree at 10:31 PM | Comments (0)

November 30, 2007

2 Girls, 1 Cup, 1 Grandma, 1 Reaction

For all you people who don't know what she's watching, consider yourself truly blessed this holiday season.

Posted by Bree at 02:42 PM | Comments (0)

November 29, 2007

Feel the Rain on Your Skin

A very special episode of The Hills starring James Franco and Mila Kunis

Posted by Bree at 05:40 PM | Comments (0)

November 26, 2007

Wit Won't Watch Your Back in the Shower Tonight

The Smoking Gun posted a bunch of shots of "wittily t-shirted arrestees" for your viewing leisure. More found here, here, here and here.

Reminder:

Posted by Bree at 05:02 PM | Comments (0)

November 19, 2007

HOT. CROSS. PUNS.

Clearly, this dumby dumbs site - which ranks the level of education needed to read one's blog - doesn't take into account my refreshing wordsmithery or jape-based exuberance (see title above). Clearly, this site takes me - and you, recognize - for a sorry lot of unlearned flaneurs. And when I say unlearned, I mean it in the iambic pentameter way, you silly dipshit.

(Via BB Blog.)

Posted by Bree at 04:39 PM | Comments (0)

November 16, 2007

TGIF

Time to come play!

Posted by Bree at 09:01 AM | Comments (0)

November 12, 2007

Can I Have a Banana?

Posted by Bree at 09:32 PM | Comments (0)

November 08, 2007

Special Delivery From Jenny: Disco

As she says, "Gotta watch the whole thing. Patience my prettttthiiiiiiiiiouuuuuuthhhh."

Posted by Bree at 03:24 PM | Comments (0)

John Mayer Actually Amuses Me...?

Hard to believe.

Posted by Bree at 10:04 AM | Comments (0)

November 03, 2007

Prove Your Smarts, Send Some Starch

Matt turned me on to a new little site the other night: Free Rice. Seems you get to test/build your vocabulary skills while helping starving folks 'round the globe...all from the comfort of your own Aeron. For each word you get right, the site donates 10 grains of rice through the United Nations. For each word you get wrong, a small child is executed. Fun!

I played for far too long last night - (Yo, it was Friday - no rules, Ma!), and ended up sending over 1,000 grains! Which, I think, is about how many I eat on a typical visit to Fontana Sushi, so there you have it. Anys - here's a hint: TWICE they tried to stump me with MUSHROOM words - morel and chanterelle. Ha! Psych! Try again, suckakas!

Posted by Bree at 10:31 AM | Comments (0)

November 02, 2007

Today in Craig's List: How to Ensure You Never Ever Have Overnight Visitors

"Hotel?! Pshaw!"

Posted by Bree at 03:44 PM | Comments (0)

Google Bats It Out The Park

My Gmail ad of the day:

Posted by Bree at 12:46 PM | Comments (0)

Fish on Friday

Posted by Bree at 12:04 PM | Comments (0)

October 24, 2007

Zombie Love

Here's a little PSA for the National Resources Defense Council (a place I sooooo almost took a job at back in 2000!) made by my lovely little Margo and her budz.

If you like it, be sure to comment on Youtube as it apparently really helps with the circulation. If you don't like it, you're not invited to Thanksgiving.

Posted by Bree at 08:19 AM | Comments (0)

September 21, 2007

Web of Wonderment

Q. What's brilliant?
A. The merging of LOL cats and PostSecret.

Alternate Answer: THIS ->

Posted by Bree at 09:20 PM | Comments (0)

September 18, 2007

His Kindness, His Gentle Wisdom, His Humor...Oh!

c/o Matty the Horse

Posted by Bree at 10:12 PM | Comments (0)

August 26, 2007

Unbelievable

"Everywhere, like, such as..."

Posted by Bree at 12:17 PM | 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)

August 03, 2007

Good Morning to You!

Posted by Bree at 08:06 AM | Comments (0)

July 31, 2007

From the Infamous Kitchen Hot Dog Painting Painter

Natalie Dee

Posted by Bree at 09:33 AM | Comments (0)

July 26, 2007

Important Memo to Marie

IT WAS GROVER.

Posted by Bree at 01:49 PM | Comments (0)

July 23, 2007

Does This Kind of Stuff Happen to Other People?

While getting undressed to jump in the shower, I somehow managed to throw the one nice sports bra I own into the toilet.

What? It was an accident.
Duh.

Posted by Bree at 09:07 AM | Comments (0)

July 19, 2007

New Game: Find the Eastern European Hitman

Posted by Bree at 10:41 AM | Comments (0)

July 12, 2007

Finger Lickin' Gross

I just got my finger jammed in between my window frame and one of those square wooden things on the inside of the window (what? I don't know. leave me alone.) and got it stuck there for a few grisly seconds before I could wrench it out. Thankfully, I'm so highly evolved that my fingernails are like the size of mitochondria but apparently the nerve endings are still functioning like the rest of you cro mags. OWWWWWWWW.

Wah.
Mom.
Etc.

Sigh. The ONLY thing that could take my mind off all this fingertip misery is this chilling ad that Vito Spatafore Jr.'s agents apparently took out in Variety:

That kid'll never crap in this town again. The Defamer write-up is here. Go with God.

Posted by Bree at 05:14 PM | Comments (0)

June 29, 2007

Immodest Modesty

All right. One more post before I kick myself offa the computer and go get my fun on, but check out this crazy crazy crazy stop-motion animation Modest Mouse video:

The Wooster Collective site has an explanation from the director that says:

"Myself and a couple have friends have entered the above into the Modest Mouse video competition. Using green screen footage provided by the band we cut a simple music video. We then degraded the images and printed out each frame sequentially. (all 4133 of them) We then nailed each "shot" of 50-100 posters to various structures and posts. Then using a digital SLR camera with a long exposure we frame by frame shot each poster. Oh, and theres a little video projection (again, frame by frame on the SLR) just to mix it up. There is no compositing, no shortcuts, just lots of blood, sweat and tears, and a huge Kinkos bill!".... Max

Posted by Bree at 06:51 PM | Comments (0)

May 23, 2007

Without Further Commentary

Anyone who heard anything about my Easter Sunday will surely get a kick out of this one...

Posted by Bree at 07:31 PM | Comments (0)

May 07, 2007

What's in a Name?

Well, if it's Breehy-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah, quite. a. hoohy. hah. brinny. bit.

[Neigh.]

Although, come to think of it, perhaps a pig squeal is more appropriate.
Sigh.

Posted by Bree at 08:19 PM | Comments (0)

April 27, 2007

Oh! Rimshot!

Look for the Massachusetts shout-OH(ut) around second 36...

Posted by Bree at 01:55 PM | Comments (0)

April 24, 2007

Yes! Yes! A Thousand Times YES!

I had no idea this song was about Burt Reynolds! "I know you're gonna do a real good job in the ledgislaytcher..." He will, Dolly! Oh he will! But not before he rips that gray cowboy hat off and loves you and your enormous boobies all the way to the great Mississipp and back!

This is, like, the happiest day of my life.

Marie? Me. You. This movie. A bowl of corn. Two boxers. House pants.
Oh you HEARD me, girl.

Posted by Bree at 01:27 PM | Comments (0)

April 21, 2007

The Pushermen of Madison Ave

Oh bejeebles. Nothing like a sodden burg and a bun askew to whet the appetite...and lubricate the insides on this fine Saturday morning. Forthwith, and with all due respect to the glory that is quick cuisine, please find an exploration of the difference between the fast food of advertisements (i.e., promise) and the fast food of reality (i.e., reality). My formatting options (read: blogging know-how) limit my ability to post comparison pictures side by side, so be sure to click here for the full feature.

McDonald's Big Mac

THE PROMISE

THE REALITY

Burger King Whopper

THE PROMISE

THE REALITY

Mmmm...whopper...

Posted by Bree at 07:41 AM | Comments (0)

April 19, 2007

Kitty Litter Cake

This is totally ganked from The Gilded Moose's Coffee and Fellowship, but this is the interwebs!

All bets?
Off!

Herewith:

This cake is perfect for a divorce proceeding...

1 spice or German chocolate cake mix
1 white cake mix
2 large pkg vanilla instant pudding mix, prepared
1 large pkg vanilla sandwich cookies
green food coloring
12 small Tootsie Rolls®

1 new kitty litter pan
1 new plastic kitty litter pan liner
1 new pooper scooper

Prepare cake mixes and bake according to directions (any size pans).

Prepare pudding mix and chill until ready to assemble.

Crumble white sandwich cookies in small batches in food processor, scraping often. Set aside all but about 1/4 cup. To the 1/4 cup cookie crumbs, add a few drops green food coloring and mix until completely colored.

When cakes are cooled to room temperature, crumble into a large bowl. Toss with half the remaining white cookie crumbs and the chilled pudding.

Line a new, clean kitty litter box. Put the cake/pudding/cookie mixture into the litter box. Or use an old one if its a work party or something. Those people at the office don't deserve cleanliness.

Put three unwrapped Tootsie rolls in a microwave safe dish and heat until soft and pliable. Shape ends so they are no longer blunt, curving slightly. Repeat with 3 more Tootsie rolls bury them in the mixture. Sprinkle the other half of cookie crumbs over top. Scatter the green cookie crumbs lightly on top of everything -- this is supposed to look like the chlorophyll in kitty litter.

Heat 3 Tootsie Rolls in the microwave until almost melted. Scrape them on top of the cake; sprinkle with cookie crumbs. Spread remaining Tootsie Rolls over the top; take one and heat until pliable, hang it over the side of the kitty litter box, sprinkling it lightly with cookie crumbs. Place the box on a newspaper and sprinkle a few of the cookie crumbs around for a truly disgusting effect!

If it was a really nasty divorce, add some real cat shit mixed in with the Tootsie Rolls.

Posted by Bree at 11:19 AM | Comments (0)

April 09, 2007

Goodnight, Vagina

A short film regarding vaginas, featuring Cheryl Hines and Gary Cole.

Posted by Bree at 10:23 PM | Comments (0)

April 07, 2007

Tasty Offering You're Sure to Likeorice

Feeling peckish? Ready to sup from the savory buffet that is D-Town's theatrical offerings? Oh lo! do I have a blubbery entree in store for you. Three words: Moby Dick Unread. Mounted by Hannah D and the resta my fellow CC Tigers over at the Buntport, this is 90 minutes of pure excellence. I went last night *all by me lonesome because I am THAT self-actualized* and was blown away by how awesome it was.

Seriously?
Seriously.

I love the Dick!

I'm even thinking of going to it AGAIN...which, as someone who's seen enough...er...off-Broadway shows to satisfy the requirement for both this lifetime and the next, is a rarity indeed. Pass the scrimshaw.

Posted by Bree at 09:02 AM | Comments (0)

April 02, 2007

Do You Like This Gown?

I'm not quite sure what this is, but I am quite sure it's the best thing I've ever seen.

Posted by Bree at 10:01 AM | Comments (0)

March 29, 2007

Happy (early) Friday, Love Me and Karen

Posted by Bree at 09:55 PM | Comments (0)

March 02, 2007

Parachute (Wo)man...Land on Me Tonight

Holy carbunkles. Check out this crrrazy helmet-cam vid* of a skydiver plummeting to the erf. He lived through it...somehow. And the best part comes after he's landed:

Friend: You OK?
Man who just fell +/- 3,000 feet to the ground: No.

*"Via" Stephen

Posted by Bree at 06:54 AM | Comments (0)

February 19, 2007

Star Signs

Taking a cue from my girl in Ft. Greene, I hit enter on the Cafe Astrology URL, plugged in the relevant info, and got a natal chart. Natcho, I've had a few of these done before (esp. when Zoe was the chief astrologer at a long-defunct dot commie...oh the late 90s!), but this one seems to be right on the moola. It goes on and on, and will no doubt be boring as hell for those of you not related to me and/or trying to get in my pantaloons, but czech it regardless. It's uncannily perceptive, and brings up a lot of themes and other emo-schtuff that's been occupying my mind as of late.

Some excerpts:

Pisces is a sensitive sign—both sensitive to criticism and sensitive to others' feelings. Easily touched by human suffering...they believe in people, are deeply hurt by compassionless human behavior, and have a hard time saying no. Harsh realities are avoided either through escapist behavior or self-delusion.

Pisces Suns absolutely care—their love knows no bounds—but their retreats from ordinary life (whether they are as simple as daydreams or actual departures) that they so seem to need every now and again are not always understandable to no-nonsense signs, such as Virgo or Aries.

You may have had a childhood that didn't help you direct or define your life. Perhaps the early family life was lacking in supervision or clearly defined rules.

Lunar Geminis are usually pleasant, witty, and charming people. At home and with family, however, they can be moody and irritable at times. People with Moon in Gemini are always interesting people—they have a finger in every pie, are curious to a fault, and are generally well-informed. Nervousness and worry are common traits with this lunar position. An underlying restlessness is common, and many Lunar Geminis need more stimulation than others. They usually read a lot, talk a lot, and think a lot with this airy, mutable position of the Moon.

Their homes are often a perpetual work-in-progress. They generally dislike housework, but are big on home improvement. Re-organizing their homes in little—and sometimes big—ways seems to keep them happy, as Lunar Geminis are easily bored by both routine and constancy.

Moon in Gemini people almost always have a way with words. They are clever and witty, and more often than not can be found chatting with others. They are sociable and friendly, and feel comfortable in crowds.

Their moodiness is complicated—this is not the same kind of moodiness you'll find with water sign moons, for example. Usually, difficult behavior stems from inner restlessness. Lunar Geminis want to do it all, and have trouble sticking to any one project. When problems arise, the first instinct of Moon in Gemini natives is to talk things out. Their tendency to analyze can give them the appearance of emotional detachment. In fact, Lunar Geminis may be especially comfortable talking about their feelings, but feeling their own feelings doesn't come as easily.

Short description:

Sharp intellect. She likes literature, adapts to all situations and social groups. Work in contact with the public, literary occupations, travel. (Spot on, I'd say - Ed.)

Weaknesses: lack of follow-up of ideas, indecision, goes back on decisions.

Very quick to contradict others, and to offer a different perspective, she enjoys intellectual debates. Amazing powers of observation, and a quirky way of looking at the world. Humorous and interesting. Loves practical jokes and raising eyebrows.

She looks on the bright side of life: she is gay, agreeable, optimistic, sociable. She likes to speak and write, and does both with charm and artistry. Her intellectual pleasures are influenced by her feelings. She is amorous and sensual. She likes beauty, the Arts but also travelling.

Posted by Bree at 09:54 AM | Comments (0)

February 14, 2007

There's Nothing Mini About It...

Curtsy the lovely and wondrous Ex o' Ex Oh! Thaigrr

Posted by Bree at 02:30 PM | Comments (0)

February 05, 2007

Special Edition of Inbox: Commenting Feature Again Turned Off

You kids is nuts. I turn on the commenting feature and nothing. Not a peep 'cept from the Spamalators (hence the dis-enabling of the commenting feature as of this morn). But the briggles inbox? The briggles inbox is full of all sorts of loverly SweetNB suggestions (I'm talking to you, Alabama!) and advice and compliments and...er...demands for further elaboration when I drop little chestnuts like, "I'm single again" or "I bought a house." The kind of feedback and attention I get on a private level would make any narcissistic blogger proud. Yet - I don't know what it is about you people. You hate to type it out for the world to see. What is this...this privacy?

Totally befuddled.

Hence the Inbox entries I sometimes post. And here, here's the latest and greatest Inboxer - responding to the angst of my life of late:

From: RJM
To: briggles
Date: Feb 4, 2007 11:31 PM
Subject: Re: March 8 Dinner

...Fear is the best motivator, and to borrow a sentiment from the book, you, Stressy Bessy, can only fail because you're taking such a risk to succeed. Key point. You're kicking cowardice's ass. Big time. By yourself. Solomente. Vous-même. That's something in my book. Plus, it will all work out because you have momentum. And if not? Everything will still be OK and wouldn't you have rather done this than not? The regret if you didn't...unbearable. Puke.

Posted by Bree at 10:07 AM | Comments (0)

February 01, 2007

Jokes

Hear about the lesbian dinasour?

Lick-Lot-Apus

Suck-a-dickasorus?

Posted by Bree at 09:14 PM | Comments (0)

Pre-Snooze Post-Script

As if it wasn't exciting enough that tonight's the premiere of Top Design on Bravo, seems it's also David Letterman's 25th anniversary show - and he's got the star of my second favorite camp movie (first being, quite obviously, Little Darlings with Tatum O'Neil and Kristy McNicol vying over who can be the first to give up her v-card to Griffin Dunne and Matt Dillon, respectively), Meatballs to boot! Move o'er social life, TV just plopped its fat ass down on the couch - and it ain't got no plans to leave anytime soon.

Posted by Bree at 01:01 PM | Comments (0)

January 29, 2007

Two Things

Two things before I slip into my nightly Vicodin and Zinfandel haze...

1. Um...this.

2. And...yeah. These:

Still not sure what they are. Still kind of suspect they taste like that grodes wet rum cake with hard coconut slivers on top.

To be fair though, what's really gonna stand up after a scrumptious deer noggin entrée?

Posted by Bree at 05:23 PM | Comments (0)

January 28, 2007

Holy. Meltdown.

Posted by Bree at 12:25 AM | Comments (0)

January 21, 2007

File Under: "Don't Have the Foggiest"

This missive from Mike Logan, my man in Singapore, hit the inbox today. Though I'm without any information as to what it all means, I am abiding his request and posting it to my blog nonetheless. Hopefully, my acquiescence to his every want will speed his (oft-delayed) return to Denver and I, once again, will be with my favorite partner in Thaime.

Without further, this is the verbatim from the man himself:

After having suffered through a lifetime of shitty seasons, lost playoff games, an entire draft sold for one RIcky Williams, seen once mediocre players achieve greatness upon departure, one stingy owner, more bad coaches, once good players gone soft on diets high on saturated fats and drive-through daquiris, the year of the Aints, and an overly destructive hurricane, I believe my New Orleans Saints are due a little bit of success,

And, knowing the tremendous (and oft documented) affect screaming, shouting, and throwing stuff at your television screen has on the outcome of a game, I humbly ask that you, my closest football watching friends in Denver, 1.) "whoop and holler" at all good plays executed by said Saints, 2.) "get the red ass" at all missed calls by the referees directed at plays that would have benefitted the aforementioned team, 3.) utilize all the words/phrases in your negative lexicon to establish disdain for the opposing team, including but not limited to: "Urlacher's a pu*sy!" or "Love on this Lovie!" (including optional pelvis thrust towards TV).

Your participation will all but assure a victory for perhaps the currently most deserving team in the National Football League.

I gather there's some sort of football game on tomorrow?
WHOOOOOO! Vote for (?) the Saints!!!

Posted by Bree at 12:20 AM | Comments (0)

January 19, 2007

Ice Ice Baby

That's just some crazy slippy.

Posted by Bree at 09:12 PM | Comments (0)

January 17, 2007

My Life for the Past Year

Just replace "New York" with "Denver" and "jaunty green striped sweater, purple scarf and microphone" with "black coat, giant sunglasses and scowl," and the likeness is downright eerie...

(NB: best part's at the end. Wait for it.)

Posted by Bree at 01:24 PM | Comments (0)

January 15, 2007

I Like Bike

I like this. It reminds me of someone who used to ride me home on his bike once in a while.

Posted by Bree at 10:07 PM | Comments (1)

January 14, 2007

The Effects of Drugs on Spiders

Posted by Bree at 10:56 PM | Comments (0)

December 20, 2006

Ad People Are Funny and They Ride Scooters in the Office

Minus the insanely low-budge italicized title card at the end (what the? Ferrero! Get in here!), this makes my holiday heart soar. If I ever actually make it home (looking doubtful at this point, more info TK), I'm definitely going to snuggle up with the reindeer pelt the fam procured in Denmark and toast Donny with a Big Gulp of nog.

Posted by Bree at 09:25 AM | Comments (0)

December 19, 2006

Slippery When Wet

Another day, another link you absolutely MUST check out. Holy moles.

P.S. Go here too...

Posted by Bree at 08:17 AM | Comments (0)

December 18, 2006

Four for the Price of None

These
make
me
bemused.

Posted by Bree at 06:28 PM | Comments (0)

Monday Morning Dick in a Box

(Aw yeah. Never you mind about the whole MT (-2h) business and take it from me: Christmas done come early 'round these parts. Peace.)

Posted by Bree at 08:53 AM | Comments (0)

December 10, 2006

My I Don't Have to Run Day

I was going to post about how every Sunday night, I cry myself to sleep over my missing Johnny Cakes, but then I saw this and now I'm totally stymied as to how to make sense of anything.

Leader of the mod?

Posted by Bree at 11:50 PM | Comments (0)

Post Secret

Ah.
I just can't ever get enough of Post Secret.

(Same goes for you, Brad. Now quit your fooling and come back to bed.)

Posted by Bree at 06:10 PM | Comments (0)

December 07, 2006

The Cold Hard Flix

Dear Bree:

You are NEVER going to watch 8 1/2.

Love,
Your friends at Netflix

P.S. Same goes for the 293-minute, uncut version of Das Boot.

Posted by Bree at 02:55 PM | Comments (0)

December 05, 2006

Sexy Time

Recipe for an Evening In
1. One royal blue chiffon short/robe set
2. One bottle chilled champagne
3. Lacquered and straightened Jheri
4. R. Kelly on the surround
5. Beige wall-2-wall
6. Black leather floorboards
7. Sex eyes

Stir ingredients slowly and with great care.
Ladle over a bed of straight-up romancin'.

Serves two. (Three if you don't mind sharing...rrrrawwwh!)

Posted by Bree at 10:09 AM | Comments (0)

November 30, 2006

I Have Been Blogging the Shit Out of My Morning

Posted by Bree at 08:59 AM | Comments (1)

November 27, 2006

Chris Gilbert's New Show Premieres Tonight

For those of you who may feel like you have something better to do than watch TBS at 11 p.m, oh I beg to differ and I beg to differ with my Swiffer. For that's the magical hour that Williamstown's own native son, Chris to the Payne to the Gilbert, debuts his new show, "10 Items or Less." Let's all give the boy some support, some ratings and some shots of Firewater at the pub come Christmas. Hey - we may not have much to offer, but at least we're consistent. And cheaply entertained.

(Kirsten - feel free to TIVO if this gets in the way of the Real World-Road Rules challenges marathon/calzone party I know you host every Monday. That is, if your TIVO isn't too filled up with "Everybody Loves Raymond" repeats and WPIX versions of John Hughes movies. "Eat my SOCKS!")

Posted by Bree at 12:16 PM | Comments (0)

November 09, 2006

Gettin' My Goat

If I have to break my under-publicized ban on Onion links, at least it's for an article by a goat.

Posted by Bree at 10:27 PM | Comments (0)

November 03, 2006

Hetero v. Homo: The Asia Argento File

A few days ago, I sent out an e-mail to some of my boys recommending the totally kickasstacular horror film Suspiria. Directed by Dario Argento, father of the boobtastic and NSFW Asia, this one deserves way more than my typical five word review - though if I had to, I guess it would be: Killer cinematography, design; also maggots! (De nada.)

Regardless, my innocent little communique engendered about 85 e-mails back cluing me into the fact that I am so effing late for the Dario train, I might as well just drown myself in a pile of lame suck.

Or maybe I was reading something into them.

Regardless, a few of the fellas mentioned a little something about Asia and her various qualities. See if you can determine which of these comments sprung from the fingers of a homosexual man, and which from a heterosexual one. It's a real stumper!

A. I love Dario Argento. I watched about 90 of his films in a row 2 halloweens ago. His daughter, who's in Marie Antoinette, is not so pretty.

B. My cousin turned me on to Super Dario a few years back, great horror shit. He doesn't get half the credit that that assclown Wes Craven gets. His daughter has some great goth tits. I'd do her!

Good luck!

Posted by Bree at 01:30 PM | Comments (0)

October 31, 2006

Putting the "Ha" in Halloween

In celebration of the ridiculous amount of Hallows today, let me present one of my all-time favorite pieces featuring Scatman Crothers:

Oh Scatman. You tickle me in all the spots my bathing suit covers.
Thanks for the mems.

Posted by Bree at 09:37 AM | Comments (0)

October 24, 2006

Cuts Like a Knife

Suck it.

Posted by Bree at 12:41 PM | Comments (0)

October 08, 2006

Sunday Morning Reading

"Last year on The Challenge of the Inca, Peru's first reality-TV show, contestants ate guinea pig, searched for gold and ran races with llama testicles in their mouths." - Departures Magazine

Mmm. Andean mountain oysters.
Good times.

Posted by Bree at 11:40 AM | Comments (0)

October 06, 2006

Proof Positive: Ofrah Puts the "Gay" in Gayle King

Yesterday, I watched about ten minutes of an Oprah episode on aging gracefully. In that short time, however, any doubts I had about the big O and her sexual affinities were completely - and permanently - put to rest on a comfy bed smack dab in the middle of the Isle of Lesbos.

Correct me if I'm wrong here: chick's a 50 years old, practicing heterosexual in a monogamous relationship, right? OK, well, get this: she has never heard of Astroglide.

Cover?
Blown.

Unfortunately, you're just going to have to take my word for it.

Posted by Bree at 02:59 PM | Comments (0)

T.G.I. Giftbong

Posted by Bree at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)

October 02, 2006

Recos

Gosta run, my darlings, but here are two World Wide Interweb recos to keep you entertained in my absence:

Best post of the day
Best blog I've ever read - and trust me, I read the whole derned thing.

Next time we meet, please give me a hug and tell me sass like that isn't just an east coast thing. Actually skip the hug part. You know how I feel about intimacy.

UPDATE: Word(s) of the day - > protean and atavistic.

¡De nada!

Posted by Bree at 09:48 AM | Comments (0)

September 27, 2006

Mental Meltdown: Commence!

UPDATE: TMZ has posted a deeply troubling SFW "teaser."

Somewhere in New York, Mike D. is shaking with shame...

From the Daily News:
Porn star's name may ring a 'Bell'

Sex education Dustin (Screech) Diamond will be appearing in a way many of his fans hoped never ever to see him. He may have played nerdy eighth-grader Samuel (Screech) Powers in the sitcom "Saved by the Bell." But former TV geek Dustin Diamond can now take his place with Colin Farrell, Tommy Lee and Kid Rock as the star of his very own sex tape.

Everyone who remembers Diamond as a lovable putz is in for a shock once they see a 40-minute video in which he engages in a kinky three-way with two women, sources tell us.

We can't get too graphic here, but word is that the action includes some bodily functions and an act known as a "Dirty Sanchez."

Phoenix-based agent David Hans Schmidt, who has brokered some of Hollywood's biggest celebrity-skin deals, confirms that he's acquired the rights to a tape featuring Diamond.

"Just when you think you have seen everything in this business," he tells us, "mankind has raised the bar another notch. Or lowered it."

Schmidt is in L.A., shopping the tape to Hustler's Larry Flynt, Vivid's Steven Hirsch and other major distributors of adult video.

Now age 29, the 6-foot Diamond is much brawnier than you may remember him. He's a black belt in karate, and, four years ago, he defeated Ron Palillo (Horshack on "Welcome Back, Kotter") on Fox's "Celebrity Boxing 2."

Diamond's manager, Roger Paul, said his client has become a successful standup comic and will appear on the ABC sitcom "The Knights of Prosperity."

"I haven't seen the tape," Paul told us. "I've heard rumors. Dustin has been trying to escape the Screech typecast. So this may help me get more bookings."

In 1996, former "Saved by the Bell" sweetheart Elizabeth Berkley bared all in the Paul Verhoeven-Joe Eszterhas trashterpiece, "Show Girls."

The sex vid's working title is "Saved by the Smell." Ewwwww.

Posted by Bree at 03:21 PM | Comments (0)

September 14, 2006

Hump Day Hotlist

Two things that are making my heart burst with awesomeness this week:

1. Lily Allen (who's playing the Hiro Ballroom 10/10, Big Applers) - British rapper - cohort of Mikey Streets - totally danceable, funny, cute, smart and dirty. Best running CD I've come across in a while. [Careful of clicking on that link if you're at work - launches a few KILLER songs by her.]

2. The Wire. OH MY GOD, I don't know how I could've missed the first two episodes of this season but OH MY GOD, thanks to HBO On Demand I am back in its ever-loving arms and ready to repent for all my sins. Well - most anyway. Ay, McNulty. I yearn for ye. Ay, Avon Barksdale! Ay, Stringer Bell! Ay, Marlowe! Ay, that crazy braided man/woman/child with the nailgun in the first episode -> most. frightening. character. ever!

Between Lily in the ear goggles and McNulty et al in the eye line - I am in brain bliss.

Posted by Bree at 08:22 AM | Comments (0)

September 13, 2006

The Freshmaker

Posted by Bree at 03:58 PM | Comments (0)

September 05, 2006

Temporary Suspension of Eggers Distaste

Relax - it's only temporary.
Whether or not it's worth it...well, I leave that to your discretion.

Posted by Bree at 10:26 PM | Comments (0)

August 30, 2006

Lushious

It's early, and I haven't yet decided which of these videos makes me more uncomfortable: Paula Abdul stoned out of her gourd at the Emmys or Tara Reid being denied entry to a nightclub in L.A.. As for the one of Jon Voight forgetting wee Zahara's name - and calling her SHAKIRA - I just haven't had the heart to watch it. Hips don't lie, it's true, but that's cold. Ice cold.

Posted by Bree at 09:07 AM | Comments (0)

August 29, 2006

Iran, Iran So Far Awaaaaayyyy

But I couldn't get away from the fact that - when it comes to Steve Carell and Tony Shalhoub - first came love, then came marriage and then came the President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, محمود احمدی نژاد, (above) in a baby carriage. Totally.

Dad

Dad

Oh please, like it's the first time.
Or even the second.

Posted by Bree at 11:42 PM | Comments (0)

August 28, 2006

Cruise-tastic

Cue the exuberance and cock the finger-guns because here you go: the best thing ever to hit the Internet.

Posted by Bree at 06:17 PM | Comments (0)

August 27, 2006

Horacio Quiroga: World's Suckiest Life?

I recently hung up a print of an excerpt from The Feather Pillow by Horacio Quiroga in my kitchen. Because, you know, nothing says "Make yourself at home" more than talk of mystery monsters and suffering and unexplained bloodletting. More salad?

Well. I like it. And, in researching the author this afternoon, I was first(ly) surprised to find he was Uruguayan (¡Hola Buquebus!), and second(ly) surprised to find the absolutely unbelievably craptastic circumstances of this man's life. Behold (c/o Wikipedia):

He had a famously miserable and unhappy life. His father, who was an Argentinian consular official, was killed accidentally in a shooting incident when Horacio was an infant. After his stepfather's death—he shot himself—Quiroga visited Paris, but soon realized that the bohemian life was not for him. He returned to South America, where he accidentally shot and killed a friend in 1902 while they were inspecting a gun.

In 1904 he settled in Chaco Province, Argentina, where he planted cotton, but the venture failed and he abandoned the project. After this disaster, he taught for a while and married one of his pupils. They had one daughter, named Eglé, and one son, Darío. Both of these children later killed themselves. With his family Quiroga moved to San Ignacio, Misiones, on the Paraná River, where he assumed a post of registrar. Unable to tolerate the harsh conditions, Quiroga's wife committed suicide by poisoning herself—she suffered a full week before she died. Quiroga killed himself by ingesting cyanide shortly after he was diagnosed with stomach cancer.

Click through for full text of The Feather Pillow...crreeeeepy! But, given the above, perhaps justifiably so.

The Feather Pillow
Horacio Quiroga

Alicia's entire honeymoon gave her hot and cold shivers. A blonde, angelic, and timid young girl, the childish fancies she had dreamed about being a bride had been chilled by her husband's rough character. She loved him very much, nonetheless, although sometimes she gave a light shudder when, as they returned home through the streets together at night, she cast a furtive glance at the impressive stature of her Jordan, who had been silent for an hour. He, for his part, loved her profoundly but never let it be seen.

For three months--they had been married in April--they lived in a special kind of bliss.

Doubtless she would have wished less severity in the rigorous sky of love, more expansive and less cautious tenderness, but her husband's impassive manner always restrained her.

The house in which they lived influenced her chills and shuddering to no small degree. The whiteness of the silent patio--friezes, columns, and marble statues--produced the wintry impression of an enchanted palace. Inside the glacial brilliance of stucco, the completely bare walls, affirmed the sensation of unpleasant coldness. As one crossed from one room to another, the echo of his steps reverberated throughout the house, as if long abandonment had sensitized its resonance.

Alicia passed the autumn in this strange love nest. She had determined, however, to cast a veil over her former dreams and live like a sleeping beauty in the hostile house, trying not to think about anything until her husband arrived each evening.

It is not strange that she grew thin. She had a light attack of influenza that dragged on insidiously for days and days: after that Alicia's health never returned. Finally one afternoon she was able to go into the garden, supported on her husband's arm. She looked around listlessly.

Suddenly Jordan, with deep tenderness, ran his hand very slowly over her head, and Alicia instantly burst into sobs, throwing her arms around his neck. For a long time she cried out all the fears she had kept silent, redoubling her weeping at Jordan's slightest caress. Then her sobs subsided, and she stood a long while, her face hidden in the hollow of his neck, not moving or speaking a word.

This was the last day Alicia was well enough to be up. On the following day she awakened feeling faint. Jordan's doctor examined her with minute attention, prescribing calm and absolute rest.

'I don't know,' he said to Jordan at the street door. 'She has a great weakness that I am unable to explain. And with no vomiting, nothing...if she wakes tomorrow as she did today, call me at once.

When she awakened the following day, Alicia was worse. There was a consultation. It was agreed there was an anaemia of incredible progression, completely inexplicable. Alicia had no more fainting spells, but she was visibly moving toward death. The lights were lighted all day long in her bedroom, and there was complete silence. Hours went by without the slightest sound.

Alicia dozed. Jordan virtually lived in the drawing room, which was also always lighted. With tireless persistence he paced ceaselessly from one end of the room to the other. The carpet swallowed his steps. At times he entered the bedroom and continued his silent pacing back and forth alongside the bed, stopping for an instant at each end to regard his wife.

Suddenly Alicia began to have hallucinations, vague images, at first seeming to float in the air, then descending to floor level. Her eyes excessively wide, she stared continuously at the carpet on either side of the head of her bed. One night she suddenly focused on one spot. Then she opened her mouth to scream, and pearls of sweat suddenly beaded her nose and lips.

'Jordan! Jordan!' she clamoured, rigid with fright, still staring at the carpet.

Jordan ran to the bedroom, and, when she saw him appear, Alicia screamed with terror.

'It's I, Alicia, it's I!'

Alicia looked at him confusedly; she looked at the carpet; she looked at him once again; and after a long moment of stupefied confrontation, she regained her senses. She smiled and took her husband's hand in hers, caressing it, trembling, for half an hour.

Among her most persistent hallucinations was that of an anthropoid poised on his fingertips on the carpet, staring at her.

The doctors returned, but to no avail. They saw before them a diminishing life, a life bleeding away day by day, hour by hour, absolutely without their knowing why. During their last consultation, Alicia lay in a stupor while they took her pulse, passing her inert wrist from one to another. They observed her a long time in silence and then moved into the dining room.

'Phew. . .' The discouraged chief physician shrugged his shoulders. 'It is an inexplicable case. There is little we can do. . .'

'That's my last hope!' Jordan groaned. And he staggered blindly against the table.

Alicia's life was fading away in the subdelirium of anaemia, a delirium which grew worse through the evening hours but which let up somewhat after dawn. The illness never worsened during the daytime, but each morning she awakened pale as death, almost in a swoon. It seemed only at night that her life drained out of her in new waves of blood. Always when she awakened she had the sensation of lying collapsed in the bed with a million-pound weight on top of her.

Following the third day of this relapse she never left her bed again. She could scarcely move her head. She did not want her bed to be touched, not even to have her bedcovers arranged. Her crepuscular terrors advanced now in the form of monsters that dragged themselves toward the bed and laboriously climbed upon the bedspread.

Then she lost consciousness. The final two days she raved ceaselessly in a weak voice. The lights funereally illuminated the bedroom and drawing room. In the deathly silence of the house the only sound was the monotonous delirium from the bedroom and the dull echoes of Jordan's eternal pacing.

Finally, Alicia died. The servant, when she came in afterward to strip the now empty bed, stared wonderingly for a moment at the pillow.

'Sir!' she called Jordan in a low voice. 'There are stains on the pillow that look like blood.'

Jordan approached rapidly and bent over the pillow. Truly, on the case, on both sides of the hollow left by Alicia's head, were two small dark spots.

'They look like punctures,' the servant murmured after a moment of motionless observation.

'Hold it up to the light,' Jordan told her.

The servant raised the pillow but immediately dropped it and stood staring at it, livid and trembling. Without knowing why, Jordan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck.

'What is it?' he murmured in a hoarse voice.

'It's very heavy,' the servant whispered, still trembling.

Jordan picked it up; it was extraordinarily heavy. He carried it out of the room, and on the dining room table he ripped open the case and the ticking with a slash. The top feathers floated away, and the servant, her mouth opened wide, gave a scream of horror and covered her face with her clenched fists: in the bottom of the pillowcase, among the feathers, slowly moving its hairy legs, was a monstrous
animal, a living, viscous ball. It was so swollen one could scarcely make out its mouth.

Night after night, since Alicia had taken to her bed, this abomination had stealthily applied its mouth--its proboscis one might better say-- to the girl's temples, sucking her blood. The puncture was scarcely perceptible. The daily plumping of the pillow had doubtlessly at first impeded its progress, but as soon as the girl could no longer move, the suction became vertiginous. In five days, in five nights, the
monster had drained Alicia's life away.

These parasites of feathered creatures, diminutive in their hatitual environment, reach enormous proportions under certain conditions. Human blood seems particularly favourable to them, and it is not rare to encounter them in feather pillows.

THE END

Posted by Bree at 03:15 PM | Comments (0)

August 25, 2006

Suspension of Saturday Night Loathe

Just for a brief minute though:

OK.
It's back on.

Posted by Bree at 01:07 PM | Comments (0)

August 17, 2006

Breaking: Godfather of Grunge on the Squawkbox Tonight

Surly songster - and possible Republican from up high? - Neil Young will be on the Colbert Report esta noche (11:30 EST, Comedy Central).

Leading me to the inevitable Colbert quote: "I'm looking over your shoulder...but only because I've got your back."

Posted by Bree at 10:48 AM | Comments (0)

July 13, 2006

Full Disclosure

After all my hype, I missed Project Runway last night. The call came to go have some beers, set off some firecrackers and hit the pool for a midnight swim in the rain with a couple of cuties and...well...that seemed the better option. Bravo, indeed.

So, today, I'm forced to read recaps to see what happened and HOLY GUACAMOLE...Keith won the challenge! But still came across like an ass! At least according to this hilarious write-up on A Socialite's Life.

Three best parts:

1. And then my favorite moment occurred when Jeffrey's model rolled up and threw feathers in the air for effect and we cut to Nina Garcia who flashes a look that translates as "did that bitch just throw feathers on my runway?" Theatrics are anathema to Ms. Garcia.

2. Keith inexplicably gains the judges' favor and spins a tale of Gone with the Wind and Carol Burnett. Michael Kors gets a rod from the Carol Burnett mention so he's now in Keith's pocket. Nina and Heidi are wondering who Carol Burnett is and does she make shoes?

3. Next week - we got a montage of the entire season, the highlight being Laura calling Keith a "shithead". Which, judging by future Keith footage, is accurate.

Auf Awesomeshen.

Posted by Bree at 09:17 AM | Comments (0)

July 12, 2006

Team Building Exercise '99

Do yourself a favor by clicking here and then on the link for "Business Time."

During my last sojourn in Green Point, I watched Tan lose his mind to the giggles over this one...again and again. Literally, had the boy rolling around on the carpet. It's that good...and the best part is? About the 50th time you wa