Total Fantrom

Holy shit, when I was out getting drunk, Ashlee Simpson was totally BUSTED on SNL.
Watch it here. That is so breathtakingly wonderful; I've never seen anyone accomplish all three feats of
1) being outed as a lip syncer
2) walking offstage during a live televised performance
as
3) one's band laughs with hysterical glee at one's misfortune.

And yet, watching her try to writhe suggestively, as, ahem, her 'band plays the wrong song,' I can't help but be filled with a whole lotta Fantrom. My friend Hunter coined the term -- it's slightly like schadenfreude, but with a lot more empathy -- it's that feeling you get when you feel empathic discomfort with the person who's going through a humilating or embarassing situation. Thus, watching little Ashlee is a fantrom-filled experience. As is watching a friend get dissed by the object of his or her affection, when someone drunkenly falls down in bar, or when someone's skirt is tucked into her thong.

Anyway. A brief recap on Radurday Night Part Deux: we went to Amy's birthday party at Botanica, and, holy sweet jesus, does anyone NOT watch baseball? We gave out lots of buttons to all the hipsters and semihipsters and then we decided to go hit the LES for additional button distribution. Because the buttons only work if people wear 'em, right? Not if they sit in a cardboard box in Josh's apartment, next to the beer distillery in the kitchen. Shit you not, dude brews his own beer. And we ran into Rick, who was walking home from watching the baseball game, and he had his dog, Lefty. Rick makes pickles. And so, when I introduced Rick to Josh, Josh said, "I'm a stickler for picklers." So for the rest of the evening whenever I looked at Rick, all I could think was: I'm a stickler for picklers.

So we went to a bar to give out more pins and we got along like a house afire with the bouncer and some kid smoking outside and everyone was happy about their new (free) Anti-Bush pin, and then we went into the bar (which SUCKED) and I asked this blond guy if he'd like a pin, and he said,
"I'm voting for Bush."

And I said, "Really???? (interrobang)" {I had no clue there were any Republicans on the LES, let alone hanging out at the Whiskey Ward). And I said, "Why?"

And he said:
"Because I'm rich."

And to that man, who is voting Republican because he is rich, I also say: You may be rich, but more importantly you are a dick. A total dick.

Ranting vitriolically about that fucker who clearly cares not for his fellow amerikans, we went to Welcome to the Johnson's, where lots of people wanted pins (i guess they're poor and therefore voting Democrat -- TAKE THAT, YOU RICH DICK!) and then Josh got tired and went home and then Rick drove me home and then I wrote a drunken email to my new friend Mike, which served only as a source of embarassment when I woke up this morning and realized I had sent a desperately lame email -- self fantrom.