Saturday, April 29, 2006

Get Rich or Make a Bad Movie Trying

No matter how great of an idea ya'll think it would be to drink gin and juice and watch Get Rich or Die Tryin', it really isn't a good idea.

The booze does not make this movie good.

It pretty much doesn't have a plot, even though a lot of stuff happens. Also! Where is the music? I want more music in a movie that stars a rapper.

8 Mile and Hustle & Flow = Good.

Get Rich or Die Tryin' = Jim Sheridan, Please Stick to Making Movies About Irish People.

"No matter how hard I thought he was before, I now think he is a pussy. Terrance Howard is clearly way cooler, and way better." -Heather, on 50 Cent, because she fucks bitches, and doesn't let bitches fuck her.


Heather just said (about a woman's right to name her child whatever the fuck she wants simply because she has to lend the child her body for 9 months): "If I wanna name it Employee so I can get in through the Employees Only door, so be it!"

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Three drinks for foriegn words.

My coworkers from the newspaper invited me out to happy hour with them on Friday night.

Bill and I invented a Boggle drinking game.

This is what people who work at a newspaper do.

This internship really is the best thing that I've ever done. I may not be really into hardcore business news (and, really, I doubt I ever will be), but I love the atmosphere.

I love having my own desk. And going out for drinks after work (and not at someone's house at 1 in the morning).

I also love proofreading.

Now if only the Business Times were Food & Wine . . . or The Believer.

I bet the crew at the Believer would be very receptive to a Boggle drinking game.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Let them eat cake.

My DVD player is broken.

New rule:
Never trust anyone who only has enough stuff to be able to live out of their car.

I actually made that up a few weeks back, when said DVD-player-breaker was also being a homophobic iPod-stealer and a pathological liar.

Another new rule:
Never trust anyone who honestly believes a lemon and water diet is a good idea.

These people also do not punctuate.

Can we say LIVID?

I sure can.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Tirty-Tree and a Turd, Tanks

Ireland is breathtaking and ancient and cultured and lively and wet (in all senses of the word). And it stole all my money.

Well, I guess I gave them my money pretty freely . . . as long as pints kept appearing in my hand.

I spent the past week wandering around literary Dublin, tripping on cobblestones in heels (because I saw Irish girls walking on cobblestones in heels, so I thought I could, too . . . and then I remembered that I suck at balance), and generally drinking and being merry. I walked along the River Liffey like James Joyce, flirted with Oscar Wilde in Merrion Square (he turned me down for Marcus), and fell in love with Yeat's brother Jack at the Irish National Gallery. (Seriously, Jack Yeats is an incredible painter. I can't believe he's not focused on more.)

I surveyed the Book of Kells at Trinity College, drank with my buddy Lauren who's studying there, and rambled about thesii and life with her like good drunken college students do.

Marcus and I took a day trip to the fishing village of Bray, where we had coffee by the seaside and watched people walk thier little dogs. And later took a 2-day trip across the island to the seaside city of Galway, which was gorgeous and romantic and filled with great bars.

I love Ireland, and I'm glad I was decked out with my triskel tattoo before I embarked. Seeing that symbol in the Book of Kells and on street grates all over Galway was an awesome connection to a part of my heritige that I've only been in touch with through the goddess and harp.

However, as my tattoo is behind my ear, Marcus seems to think its an on-off button of some kind and pokes it often. This irks me.

As does my empty wallet. Tanks for the good times and the Guinness, Ireland.