The second one from the left on my right foot. Unbelievable. I walk with a limp now. 50 Cent shakes his head, mutters something inaudible, walks off... />...
This 19-year-old self-described "Bridge Troll" was arrested last week after demanding a $1 fee from joggers and bikers wanting to cross his bridge. It later came out that he was high on LSD, but it doesn't make this any less funny. His friend claims he was having a "bad trip" -- and granted my understanding of LSD highs is limited at best -- but I thought a "bad trip" was one where you, like, are absolutely fucking certain that the hula-hooping alligator laid an egg in your stomach when you talked to her and you have to cut yourself open right fucking now before the baby alligator hatches and eats you from the inside out. Thinking you are a bridge troll just sounds like a regular trip. Or is it just necessarily a bad trip when it culminates in your arrest?
This 19-year-old self-described "Bridge Troll" was arrested last week after demanding a $1 fee from joggers and bikers wanting to cross his bridge. It later came out that he was high on LSD, but it doesn't make this any less funny. His friend claims he was having a "bad trip" -- and granted my understanding of LSD highs is limited at best -- but I thought a "bad trip" was one where you, like, are absolutely fucking certain that the hula-hooping alligator laid an egg in your stomach when you talk...
When I hear about this sort of thing, I tend to tune it out. I live on LA's Westside, hang out in South Bay and venture occasionally into Hollywood if someone else is driving. These obese people storming the nation feel mythical to me, all horned and bearded, unkempt, charging forward into our great nation carrying some manner of pole arm and a chicken wing. I never see anyone beyond a size 6 around here.
When I hear about this sort of thing, I tend to tune it out. I live on LA's Westside, hang out in South Bay and venture occasionally into Hollywood if someone else is driving. These obese people storming the nation feel mythical to me, all horned and bearded, unkempt, charging forward into our great nation carrying some manner of pole arm and a chicken wing. I never see anyone beyond a size 6 around here.I know we hear about the fat people incessantly these days, but MSN had the courtesy and the sum...
This is not entirely true. To be fair, some of them just have a pilot. But they are all very, very good pilots -- kind of like Sex and the City meets Entourage -- and they all have a very, very well-connected friend. None of them would be doing this if they weren't really confident that they could get this thing sold. Really.
This is not entirely true. To be fair, some of them just have a pilot. But they are all very, very good pilots -- kind of like Sex and the City meets Entourage -- and they all have a very, very well-connected friend. None of them would be doing this if they weren't really confident that they could get this thing sold. Really.I have neither a screenplay nor a pilot. I'm not much of a writer. What I do have is a limitless supply of solid-gold reality show pitches. My latest is truly a gem: America's N...
Unfortunately, I appear to be the only client in the place who doesn't know any of them. I've been going there for years for the same fill-and-French (that sounds kinda dirty), and at least a few of them seem to know mine -- they greet me by name when I walk in -- and I haven't the foggiest idea how. Did they get it off of my checks? I have never introduced myself by name to any of them, and I don't really talk to them much while I'm sitting in there. In fact, every time I go in there, no matter which young Vietnamese manicurist I'm paired with, we have the same conversation:
Unfortunately, I appear to be the only client in the place who doesn't know any of them. I've been going there for years for the same fill-and-French (that sounds kinda dirty), and at least a few of them seem to know mine -- they greet me by name when I walk in -- and I haven't the foggiest idea how. Did they get it off of my checks? I have never introduced myself by name to any of them, and I don't really talk to them much while I'm sitting in there. In fact, every time I go in there, no matter...
Use only as directed.
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But this one's out of the ballpark. I love this girl. Since blogs began to replace mainstream news media for most of the sub-30 set, we've lost touch, I think, with the blogs of old -- the sordid life stories teenagers swapped on DearDiary.net, before we even called them "blogs." It's refreshing to see someone write a blog as a diary again; I commend her for putting herself out there for our voyeuristic pleasure.Although I am fairly convinced the seemingly genuine excitement surrounding all thing...
It's true. I swear. I always said that if we continued to talk about how fat they were while they were in the room, they would eventually develop a complex; they did, and it manifested itself in the form of feline bulimia. It's very much the new silent killer.Nothing substantive has changed; I feed them the same food, in the same amounts, at the same times, like I have for years. The difference recently is that they purge within minutes. It's become a part of my morning routine: get up, feed cats, watch ...
Does anyone else feel betrayed by her lately? Maybe it's just me. I used to feel such a kinship with her. When she first came out with "...Baby One More Time," the great unheralded domestic abuse diatribe of our generation (I would pay a great deal to hear the Tori Amos cover), I felt she was overrated and overexposed. It was nice to see that the oft-ignored ellipse had finally forced its way into that inpenetrable fortress of pop culture, but beyond that, I felt the song was catchy but otherwise u...
I woke up this morning with Paris Hilton's single running through my head. This is discouraging in and of itself, but what's worse is I spent a good portion of my morning routine thinking about the song. It's pleasantly ironic, I think, that a young woman widely regarded as America's Whore chooses to spend the entire three minutes and fifty-four seconds of her first music video writhing around half-naked on a beach singing a song -- a damn catchy song, if we're all being honest -- about how stars are...
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