The ol' Glen Fuck Bushes

How does this happen? I was thinking about the bushes in Glen Rock that kids used to cut so they said “Glen Fuck” — they would cut off the round bit of the R and the top of the o — so I twittercized about it, and then I googled the bushes to see if I could maybe find something about it, and HuffPo had already picked up my tweet? Is this a thing that happens now? The internet is eating itself and then pooping itself and it is a human centipede  / ouroboros?

Best. Backpack. Ever.

There is too much internet for me to catch up on, and I haven’t seen Mad Men or Jersey Shore or any of the Big Brothers I missed when I was away by myself in Belize. So I am going to stop catching up on the internets RIGHT NOW, because Sean won them. Because this is the greatest backpack the world has ever seen.

Bex Schwartz: The Zulkey Interview

I could not be more excited than I am about being interviewed by the legendary Claire Zulkey.

Purify the Colours, Purify My Mind

Via Growing Pangs!



I hate everything, except for this. I just watched this four times with tears streaming down my face in a combination of joy and just plain being overwhelmed by the eye injections. EYE INJECTIONS. Why did it take until now for the Rockafire Explosion to sing The Arcade Fire while the world is destroyed and Mitzi and Beach Bear get EYE INJECTED?

When I was about 4 and my brother was teeny tiny, we went to visit my dad's family in Charleston. When we flew back, my brother got his finger stuck the fold-out airplane tray that comes out of the seat when you're sitting in the bulkhead. His finger was gushing blood. The stewardesses called an ambulance to meet us when we landed. My brother and mom went to Valley Hospital in the ambulance. My dad and I met them there. There was a toy shaped like Ernie from Sesame Street that was filled with sand and you could tilt Ernie and let the sand flow from his fingers to his feet. We were not supposed to be spending that night in the emergency room waiting for my baby brother to have his hand stitched up. WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO TO SHOWBIZ PIZZA TO SEE THE ROCKAFIRE EXPLOSION. My parents PROMISED. But we TOTALLY DIDN'T GO. We went to the ER and there were no animatronic animal bands or ball pits. There was just a stupid plastic Ernie filled with sand.

The Turtle Who Says WOW (during sexytimes)

Even better than the turtle who says "Goodnight, Ned" in Three Amigos. This is the only thing that is making me feel better about the universe.




Via Gawker TV.

Spirit Animal

Primus and Bob Saget! What a Dream!

Oh, Wellmont Theater of Montclair, NJ (did my dad put me on your mailing list? Why are you emailing me?) All I can say is: you have put your Primus chocolate into my Bob Saget peanut butter and I am not sure if you aware of the raw genius that is this email blast.

Primus and Bob Saget! Two delicious tastes that go even better together!

On Rent (if you were me at age 17)

Truer words about me have never, and will never, be written.

Burying the lede! I wrote about why 'Rent' was so fucking important to me when I was 17.  (for my favorite internet homepage, The Awl!) Also, I will gladly sing any and all of the original cast album with you at karaoke.

ROBYN ROBYN ROBYN ROBYN (all robyn, all the time)

My secret girlfriend Robyn did a secret (?) show in Tribeca yesterday and nobody remembered to tell me about it. But at least there is video.
Also, I am totally into the half-blue-head thing.

FEELING IT with Robyn

 

Remember on Lost when everyone had to FEEL IT? This song makes me FEEL IT. I have been FEELING IT for months, me and this song. But this morning on the way to work, I super duper FELT IT. It was totally a could-have-been-on-Lost FEELING IT moment, except before Lost decided to suck like nobody's business with the world's worst cop-out of crap. Stop thinking about how much Lost sucked! Watch Robyn! She will make you FEEL IT. 

The Dog Who Sings Batman!

Via Lindsay and Urlesque, today I internet-met a pug named Teddy Almond Turtle who yells BATMAN! Except, in my head, he sings it. Because I am tone-deaf and can't really sing, so basically hitting the right words at the correct time with a vague sense of rhythm is good enough for me. By which I mean to say: I very sloppily and hastily cut the pug into the Batman theme song, because I am very, very, very easily amused.

Suck it, Quizno's

This new Quizno's spot wants to be by Joel Veitch, the genius behind the singing kittens and the original spongmonkeys Quizno's campaign. This new spot is not by Joel Veitch. It is a poor man's version of Joel Veitch.

Joel is my friend and we collaborated many years ago on 9 singing kitten spots for VH1. Quizno's can suck a dick for ripping off the Veitchness and hiring someone else to do the awesomeness that Joel does so well -- but at least they fail, so there's that.

AHEM. This new Quizno's spot is NOT BY JOEL VEITCH.

It lacks his cleverness and mastery of the absurd.


I just wanted to make sure you know this.

That's not how it's spelled on my diploma

I truly hope a Wesleyan grad copy-edited this ad. LIKE!

Friend Survey!

If my entire internet presence consisted of the words “Bex likes sriracha,” would we still be pals?

PANDA WANT JACKET.

 

Sometimes I just feel like a giant panda who REALLY REALLY REALLY wants a denim jacket and will stop at nothing to get it, not even turning into a violent panda like the one in Tekken.

in re: the california gurls video

“I refuse to accept that Snoop plays dice with the universe.” — Albert Einstein

Paging All Archeology Types?

Hello, internets! Paging people who know something about archeology, maybe? I found this thing, that I think is maybe a spearhead? Or something similar? I found it in September of 2001 when I was at my friend’s place on Vinalhaven, off the coast of Maine. It was in the shallow water right off the beach. At the time, I had just completed a heroic dose of mind-expanding natural plants during which I imagined that I was some sort of Native American healer, so you can only imagine my joy at finding what I thought was a token (what does Ayla call them, the things she puts in her amulet? A totem?) or a sign from the universe or something.

So. It is this thing. Next to a penny for scale-reference. What is this thing? I truly hope it is actually a thing and not just a random rock that my brain decided was a thing. It does look like it was hammered or chipped away at or something like that.  It's not sharp like a spear but maybe it is some other sort of tool? Dr. Jones? Anyone?

It's all in my Wildlife Treasury!

This is the part I remembered:

“Time to check out the wildlife I've got captured here in my room, in my illustrated Wildlife Treasury! Hey, Rhinocerous! Says here, you sleep standing up and you only eat at night! This monkey holds up his long nose when he eats. And the duck-billed platypus has feet like a duck, but it’s furry! They’re all in my Wildlife Treasury!”

This is the part that just broke my heart into a million pieces because I remember how anxious it made me feel that the mom was going to just DESTROY this kid's dreams:

Mom: Hey, Jungle Jimmy! More Wildlife Treasury cards just came!
Jungle Jimmy: GREAT!
Mom: You could cancel after the next shipment ...
Jungle Jimmy: But we won't ... will we, Mom?

He is so forlorn at the very notion that you could cancel after the next shipment! Don't do it, commercial mom! Let this kid cling to just one dream. Everything is totally going to suck for him eventually. So let him be 6 or 7 or even 8 and convinced he's really on a fucking safari.

Would You Like to be Someone's English Drinking Buddy?

My best friend is looking for an English drinking buddy. Would you like to be an English drinking buddy? He's advertising over on Craigslist.

Bangkok Devastation

This was the holiday display at Central World in Bangkok, taken in late December when I was there.

This is what the mall looked like from the outside:

This is what is happening right now (via Reuters):

From the airtrain station right outside the mall, in December:

Today:

On Courtney Love's Sex Life and other Important Matters of Great Merit

Two weeks ago, I was on The Joy Behar Show to talk about things that are really really important, like Courtney Love's sex life and TomKat's awesome dancing skillz. I use the phrase "badger sex" at one point. And I make a lot of faces when I talk. Do I do that in real life?

Schwartz Family Star Trek Adventure!

When I was 12 we went to California for a family vacation, using my bat mitzvah money! I was DESPERATE TO BE AN ACTRESS at that point in my life. My parents indulged my pleas to wait on line to be cast in the Star Trek Adventure at Universal Studios.

(from the website): "Based on one of the most popular series on television, Star Trek® Adventure is our latest and greatest live-action show. At each performance, members of the audience are selected to join Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock in battling Klingons, fantastic space creatures and alien superbeings. Then only minutes later, you see these scenes videotaped and edited into actual Star Trek footage. You may go in a spectator and come out a star!"

We were wearing matching "May The Schwartz Be With You" shirts. And, because we were amazing and also because we were wearing matching shirts, they cast ALL OF US. My dad is an alien precept (the tall one with glasses and the prosthetic forehead). My brother is the dragonhound (in the dragonhound suit). My mom is in the landing party. (She is the one giggling after they get beamed). I am the sleeping engineer who sleeps through the crisis (in a white jumpsuit). ACTING! I told them I was taking acting classes so they could give me a really juicy role. Ugh, I must have been despicable.

August, 1991! (Annotated for your viewing pleasure).

The Spectral Tarsier Says Hey

The spectral tarsier says hey. Hey, hey! That is what a spectral tarsier says! And sometimes it says "WOO" and sometimes it says "uh-huh." The spectral tarsier loves Jay-Z! Hey! Hey! Hey! Show me what you got, spectral tarsier!


(Great adventures in insomnia. This is what happens.)

Despite All My Glee, I Am Still Just A Bear In a Tree

Happy pre-Mother's Day! You should watch this video of a momma bear rescuing her baby bear from a tree at the bearpark in Berne (it is really called a Bear Park; I went when I was in Berne doing Einstein research for my senior thesis production. Quelle reve! A park full of BEARS. Bears.) (link via Claire Zulkey's facebook update.)

Also, and not in a fishing way, more in a musing out loud way, I sometimes wonder who would rescue me if I were stuck in a tree.

When I was 7 or so, we went to a barbecue at a friend's house in Glen Rock and I climbed a tree. Getting up the tree was very easy. Getting out of the tree was terrifying. So I stayed in the tree and cried and my dad told me he was taking my allowance away (this was during the 4 month phase of my life when I got an allowance; I am pretty sure it was taken away after the stuck-in-a-tree incident and never reinstated). I was probably in the tree for a few hours, crying hysterically, as my dad tried to coax me down. I think eventually someone stepped on a stool and helped me down - I was probably only 6 feet in the air. But it was terrifying! I was paralyzed with fear and I was pretty sure I was going to fall out of the tree and die if I moved at all. (To this day I am pathologically afraid of heights. I am so much fun to be around!)

And so, although, admittedly, I am scared of many things that will probably never actually happen, such as being on a boat that gets turned over by a whale and then being trapped under said boat and drowning, or somehow surviving a nuclear armageddon and then having to stick it out, The Road-style, there is definitely a chance that I could once again climb a tree and get stuck in it. Great. Now there is one more thing about which to worry and one less reason to sleep at night.

You know those terrible horrible online dating commercials where the girl is like "I'm just a goof, looking for my ball?" (Which, seriously, someone approved this copy? Because in my head, she is actually saying "I'm just a vagina, looking for a scrotum!") Anyway. My point is, "I'm just a baby bear stuck in a tree, looking for someone to rescue me."

Tune-in Alert

tonight ... on the joy behar show:

Academy Award-winning actress Hilary Swank and renowned feminist Gloria Steinem discuss the significance of the birth control pill, which was approved by the FDA 50 years ago this Sunday. Plus, 70's action herione Pam Grier, whose new memoir is entitled "Foxy: A Life in Three Acts." Tonight at 9 pm ET on HLN.

AND ME! (with andy borowitz and ben widdecomb) talking about pop culture stuff for about 15 minutes. Hopefully I will be endearing and sort of almost well-spoken, maybe kinda sorta.

We Built Sioux City on Rock and Roll

My dad has to spend Monday -  Friday of every week in Sioux City, aka SUX. (Seriously, they call themselves SUX). He sent me this video and I have to say - it is a paragon of wonder. (stay with it, it only gets better, and more literal as it goes on.) This is truly a thing of beauty. Oh, Sioux City, bless your earnest, eager little heart. I am so glad you couldn't even afford to get into a studio and actually overdub the words "Sioux City" over "This City" and instead you forced your fine citizens to awkwardly stop lipsyncing in order to shout out your name. I just kept waiting for Leslie Knope to show up. Or for them to wage war against, say, Omaha. Oh, Sioux City. Via my dad, via this awesome site which promises that you will have a ROCKIN' time in Sioux City.
And clearly, clearly, you will.



edited to add: via my friend Sean, have you seen these AMAZING Cleveland tourism videos? The 2nd one is extra doublesauce amazing.

And the Heart Says Whatever

I don't review friends' things because that is weird! And I am overly analytical and deconstructive and no one really wants to hear a 10 minute exegesis on a sentence they wrote a year ago! But! I will tell you: a book called "And the Heart Says Whatever" by Emily Gould comes out today! And you should get it. And I am not saying that just because Emily will sing duets with me at Karaoke. I am saying that because it contains this sentence, among others: "I came back from a trip to the tiny bathroom and made a joke about the poster on the back of the bathroom door: 'It's the Belle and SeBathroom!'"

And also because Emily is one of my favorite people on this planet. So you should totally buy her book.

Freeze Company

When I was a little kid, I was only allowed to watch educational TV during the week, which meant things on PBS like 3...2...1 Contact. (I could watch cartoons on Saturday mornings, don't worry). In first grade, my classmates were really into a show that I thought was called "Freeze Company." They would talk about it during art times and play it during recess after lunch. I had no idea what they were talking about. I knew there was a guy and two girls. When I was (rarely) invited to play, I would just ask to be the cat because I imagined there would be a cat there. Because in my head, since I knew the show was called "Freeze Company," I decided that it must be a show that took place in an igloo. Like, there was a guy and two girls and they lived in an igloo where they made ice. Because they worked for the Freeze Company.

One night at dinner, I asked my parents to tell me about Freeze Company because that day during lunch I eagerly suggested that I could be the penguin, because, surely, if these people named Jack and Janet and Chrissy lived in an igloo making ice (for their job!) then there, clearly, would be a penguin in the igloo, as opposed to a kitty. My parents had no idea what I was talking about. I explained that it was a popular tv show that took place in an igloo. My parents were stumped.

And then first grade was over and then in 2nd grade no one was talking about Freeze Company anymore and I forgot about it, and eventually I was allowed to stay up to watch the Cosby Show and finally by the time I was in 7th grade I actually sneaked downstairs to watch 90210.

And then I stopped thinking at all about Freeze Company until John Ritter died and I was like, "Oh. (blink blink blink). I see."

No Shlomo

I love Survivor. Love, love, love, love, love. So if you haven't watched last night's episode yet, SPOILER ALERT, although I am going to remove names so that you can read this interview with the ousted Survivor and hopefully it won't fug you up too much (although if you haven't watched last night's Survivor, you shouldn't be on the internets, you know that.) Anyway. From EW/Dalton Ross's interview with the person who was (SPOILER ALERT) voted off of Survivor last night:

Q: Since your wrestling match with Person X ended way too early for my taste, tell me what would have happened had it continued? Would you have come out on top?
A: Oh yeah, are you kidding me? I wanted Person Y just to get (pronoun redacted) off me, then I was going to run to the bathroom, read the clue, and flush it down the toilet. That was the plan. Then all of a sudden, my weakness is I have a big conscience and I feel bad about things pretty quickly. I’m not Jewish or anything; it just happens.

Let's just go over one little comment in there again, shall we? "My weakness is I have a big conscience and I feel bad about things pretty quickly. I’m not Jewish or anything; it just happens."

UMMMMM. Look, I am not a practicing Jew or anything. But I was raised pretty hardcore culturally (and religiously) Jewish and that included attending Camp Ramah for eight summers where we performed broadway musicals in Hebrew because we were that fucking hardcore, and I feel like that, combined with the fact that I can still read and write Hebrew and read the Torah even if I no longer practice the religion, and also, have you seen my nose recently, gives me the permission to say: THIS IS REALLY ICKY.

Having a big conscience and feeling bad about things pretty quickly is not necessarily a Jewish thing, because if it were, Hollywood wouldn't exist. (ha ha, Elders of Zion joke, ha ha). And look, I'm a not-practicing-but-definitely-a-Jew, and I do feel bad about things pretty quickly, and I have a huge conscience. Like if a 3-inch-tall Jiminy Cricket represents Pinocchio's conscience, then my conscience is one of those ginormous woolly mammoths that they were always hunting in the 3rd book in the Clan of the Cave Bear series. With the spear-thrower. A HUGE, big, keeps me up at night thinking about things I might not have done perfectly or things I ought not to have said out loud sort of conscience.

And of course I wasn't there when the Ex-Survivor gave this delightful little soundbite, but the way that its tossed off -- "I'm not Jewish or anything" -- like this person feels the need to assert that (spoiler alert at this point, fuck it with the pronoun shifting) she HAS TO TELL THE PUBLIC THAT SHE IS NOT JEWISH. Lest we instantly assume that just because she feels bad about things that she is Jewish, and HEAVEN FORBID that we possibly think that this one-time pageant queen and former Miss Montana is a Jew? As in: she is so quick to assert that she is not Jewish that it seems like she would be horrified if we all thought that she was.

It's like the weirdly anti-semitic no homo. "I am saying these things that apply to my own preconceptions of what it is like to be Jewish, and I am implying that I behave in a manner that I am judging to be Jewish, but don't think that I am Jewish, because I am totally not. Do not think that I'm a Jew. I'm not. "

Or, rather: "I like bagels. No Shlomo."

Seoul, I Hear You Calling

There was karaoke last night. I missed it, because I got there late, because I had a show, but Bennett sang Erasure's "Respect." And then Emily mentioned it on her tumblr.

So!

Can we talk about this Erasure song? Because in the video, which was in some episode of Al TV that my brother and I taped with the VCR and then watched and re-watched obsessively, there is a moment when Andy sings "Souuuuuuuul" and they show the logo from the Seoul Olympics (at :48) and for the longest time I was convinced that this song was actually about "Seoul, I hear you calling," like it was some epic anthem for the Seoul Olympics -- except, at the same time, I remember the Seoul Olympics because I am ancient and because I love the Olympics so much, and there was an official anthem called "Hand in Hand" but anyone who is a dedicated Olympics person who then also had to do warm-ups to the song in ballet class will recall that the Seoul Olympics are forever associated with "One Moment in Time" by Whitney Houston, which she performed during the opening ceremonies. Oh wait, maybe she didn't, but it was totally the theme song because DIG THE VIDEO. That is some inspirationally epic shit right there. And just listening to these lyrics makes me want to warm up for ballet class. BUT EVEN MORE IMPORTANTLY:

If you think about it, "a little respect" could totally be about the Seoul Olympics, a tiny bit? Like you hear the siren tones of Seoul calling your name and you know that you need a little respect so that you can muster the courage and confidence to do rhythmic gymnastics? Okay, admittedly, if you read the lyrics, I guess it's a really big duh that this song is not about the Seoul Olympics at all, especially when you factor in the line: "What religion or reason / Could drive a man to forsake his lover." (Also: props to Erasure for non ambiguous gender pronouns. A man and HIS lover. That is totally in your face gay. Just like Erasure!)

And yet, there is still something appealing about these lyrics being in a song about the Olympics:

And if I should falter
Would you open your arms out to me
We can make love not war
And live at peace in our hearts

Because I always thought this line was, like, about people doing hurdles or running a relay or a marathon in the Seoul Olympics and, you know, stumbling or something - and it's a plea to the people of all nations to support each other. JUST LIKE THE OLYMPICS.

But that is because I was a child! And confused by the video! Because, man, he is totally not singing about stumbling during the 4x400 relay at the Olympics and metaphorically making love, not war. He is singing about doing it.

One Year Later

My mom died last year on April 29th. It was a Wednesday. That week is really clear in my mind. I went to see her on Sunday and even though she had lost her voice because of the radiation, she seemed to be doing a lot better. She couldn't talk but she could whisper and she was downstairs in her snuggie doing the Times crossword (in pen). When I got there, my dad was so thrilled because he had managed to get her to eat a scrambled egg for breakfast and that was probably the most food she'd eaten in weeks. So she was eating and she seemed like she had a little more energy and she was snarky and witty despite the whispering thing.

I brought all these pedicure supplies because I thought that it would be nice to pamper her a little bit, and we listened to the Beatles while I attended to her toes. I painted them some quick-drying shade of reddish orange. She had lost almost all of her hair because of the chemo but before it started to fall out, she bleached it to a brassy platinum. She refused to shave it, because she thought it was short enough not to be a problem, but there were brassy blonde hairs everywhere -- on the snuggie, on the couch, on the floor. My dad kept up constant dustbuster maintenance. She wore a hat when she went into Mt. Sinai for chemo or to the local hospital for brain and chest radiation. But at home, she just had one little dreadlocked tuft of hair left, right in the center of her head. It was sort of Tintin-esque. She didn't like the fact that the hair was all matted and she asked me to comb it out. I was afraid of hurting her, and when I tried to untangle the hairs, they all came out in my hand.

We spent a few hours together and then she got a blackberry alert that there was some problem with NJ Transit so she insisted that we get going so we'd make it back to the city. She wasn't loud, but she was adamant. My dad drove us to Liberty State Park to catch the Path train but of course we took the wrong Path train and ended up in Jersey City, where we finally caught the correct train back to Manhattan. We walked back to my apartment from Penn Station. I was feeling better about things. It seemed like she was doing a little bit better.

On Monday, I had jury duty and I had already postponed it as many times as I could by phone. I spent a few hours waiting in jury duty, cutting a rough version of a spot for VH1 Mobile on my laptop. After the clerks kept saying things about committing to two weeks of jury duty, if selected,  I freaked out and ran to get an official deferral. I told them my mom was sick and I couldn't commit. They pushed it to October.

Emily and I went to karaoke that night and I drank a little too much and got emotional and sang songs from Barbra Streisand's "Broadway Album" in honor of my mom. Specifically the song "Being Alive," which, if you don't know it, is from Company and is particularly amazing when Babs sings it. My mom's favorite song off that album was "Send in the Clowns" but I couldn't bring myself to sing it.

On Tuesday, I worked on the VH1 Mobile spot and was getting ready to shoot a segment with my friend Graham about the intersection of science and pop culture.

On Wednesday, my dad called early in the morning and said my mom was in the ER and that I should get to South Orange as soon as I could. I called my brother and told him to meet me at the train station. I threw some shit in a bag and grabbed my laptop and ran to Penn Station. I emailed my friends who were supposed to come over that night to watch Top Model that I didn't know what was going on and that we should probably plan on postponing our viewing party.

My brother and I got to the hospital, where my aunt Sherry and my dad were with my mom in the ER. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. I held her hand and told her about singing Streisand for her. She had an oxygen mask over her face and couldn't speak but one tear slipped out of her right eye and slid down her cheek. My dad took us outside to tell us that the doctors were preparing a room for her but that they couldn't get her blood pressure back up and that we needed to be ready for hospice. While we were talking in the parking lot, by the loading dock, my dad's cel phone rang. It was the doctor. He said we needed to come back inside.

My mom was already in a coma when we got back. My aunt called her rabbi to come over to say the things that rabbis say in this situation. The rabbi arrived and said things in Hebrew and we all watched the monitors as her blood pressure dropped lower and lower. The rabbi told us that we should stop looking at the machines and instead spend this time telling my mom that we'd be okay. We told that we loved her, that it was okay to go, that we'd be okay without her.

She was gone in a matter of minutes. Her blood pressure was so low that she instantly went completely pale. I was still holding her hand.

I am not so sure that I am okay without her.

True Story! Tonight at 9!

You guys. I am trying to distract myself from things. I am doing a storytelling comedy showthing tonight. At 9:30 pm.

The Tank

354 West 45th Street

(between 8th and 9th Avenues)

April 29th, 9:30PM

$10 and CHEAP CHEAP Drinks!

Featuring:

Your host, Rob Gorden (Spike TV, The Food Network)

and

Brad Lawrence (Author: Monsters in the Wood)

Bex Schwartz (VH1)

Fiona Walsh (Creator: "Sundays at Seven" at the Irish Arts Center)

Andy Christie (Master and Commander of "The Liar Show!")

Take Off Your Thirsty Boots

I wanted to listen to Eric Andersen's "Thirsty Boots" because I was thinking a think. For whatever reason of awesomeness, one of his shows from 1970 is on youtube.

I want to go to there, really really really badly. Those Canadians don't quite know the lyrics yet although the Judy Collins version came out in 1965 and Eric Andersen's version dropped (ha! a folk album dropped!) in 1966 -- maybe it took longer to get to Canada? Or maybe I am just really familiar with Judy Collins because "The Fifth Album" was one of my mom's favorites, although less beloved than "In My Life" and certainly no match for Wildflowers (but how do you match Wildflowers? You don't)  --  and when Eric sort of plaintively cajoles these late-blooming Canadian hippies to at least hum the melody, and then no one sings when he asks them to - well, it just breaks my little hardened heart.

Also, there is a version of "Thirsty Boots" on youtube with Judy, Eric, AND Tom Rush and Arlo Guthrie. If you were also inside of my brain right now and you were listening to this, you would be crying.

Fox 5's Weird Early Primetime lack of dayparting spoke in class today

There was an ad for the Dr. Oz show about having your best orgasm ever after age 40. On tv! Primetime! At 8:51pm. During "House!"  Surely there are a lot of kids who are watching tv between 8-9pm! And maybe they don't know what an orgasm is! Consider their minds to be blown. LIKE IN JEREMY.  (not really like in Jeremy. I was thinking about what it would be like to be 8 years old and watching tv with your parents and seeing this promo. And in my head, a sort of metaphorical Jeremything would happen). It's a metaphor! A metaphor for being 8 and seeing this promo and being like "say what now?"

I don't know. I was in the kitchen draining my edamame (not a euphemism) and I heard the tv talking about orgasms. I thought it was a wee bit early for that. But, I suppose, it's important for the children to know.

And this is a stupid remix thing but I made a minivow that I had to make whatever weird stupid video mashup thing went through my head, so, I made this. It is dumb. But I am entertained by it.

And I actually didn't watch it until 11:00pm because I timeshift all my television so forgive my delayed response.

This metaphor is an analogy for something that is not meant to be interpreted literally!

Favorite Twitter Exchange of Recent Memory

starbex: A haiku: "seltzer while in bed / Thirst-quenching! What could go wrong? / Spilled it down my shirt."

noahsam:  "But when seltzer spills / a paradoxical mess / for it cleans itself."

starbex: "the zen of seltzer / a spill, yet nothing ruined / just a wet tee shirt."

noahsam "dudes say, 'wet t-shirt: / not a mess, but a success!' / yay chauvinism!"

The Stars, The Moon - They Have Been All Been Blown Out

This is my new favorite song in the entire multiverse. Florence + The Machine, "Cosmic Love."
I am totally a year behind on this one but if you haven't heard this song and let it blow your mind (or just my mind, I am in a weird place), you should listen to it right now. (the rest of the album is amazing, too).

Or rather: if you want a direct link to my heart, it's probably via this song.

Puh Puh Puh Puh Platypus Puh Puh Puh Pokerface

 Puh Puh Platypus is my favorite thing of the day:

(credit to Popwatch/Margaret Lyons).

I can't sleep even though I am SO tired. So this happened:
Puh Puh Puh Puh Puh Pokerface Platypus:

Bear / Sloungewear

Just thought maybe you wanted to look at a bear wearing a sloungewear.
Remember sloungewear?

MONKEY COP.

MONKEY COP!
This is why I want to move to Thailand:

A Thai police force has begun taking a monkey dressed in officer's uniform on patrol each day to help improve relations with Muslim separatists.

 (hat tip to my brother Adam!)

 

 

Snurfle snurfle snurfle snurf snurf snurf

I am single and I have a lot of time on my hands. And apparently my new hobby is making sounds for animals that I think they ought to make. (You guys can stage an intervention at any point, really). So, in my head, I think that a goby fish climbing a waterfall would go "snurfle snurfle snurf snurf snurf!"



This one is for Joey who requested it after the mudskipper thing.

Mudskippers, Mudskippers, Fight Fight Fight!

This is how mudskippers fight.

Prisencolinensinainciusol

It is true that I can no longer get through the day without watching this.

Prisencolinen

sinainciusol

OLL RAIGH!




Great Scott. The backstory to Prisencolinensinainciusol is far greater than I ever imagined.

"Prisencolinensinainciusol" is a song composed by Adriano Celentano, and performed by Celentano and his wife, singer/actress-turned-record producer Claudia Mori. It was first released as a single on November 3, 1972, and later on his album Nostalrock. The lyrics are pure gibberish, often described as sounding like American English as heard by a non–English-speaker.

In an interview, Celentano explains that the song is about "incommunicability" because in modern times people are not able to communicate to each other anymore. He added the only word we need is prisencolinensinainciusol, which is supposed to stand for "universal love."

Celentano's rationale for the song was that, after releasing albums about ecology and social issues, "having just recorded an album of songs that meant something, I wanted to do something that meant nothing"

In modern times people are not able to communicate to each other anymore. Holy fucking shit, prisencolinensinainciusol. 


Also, can I get a what what for the fact that Celentano is also a vegetarian JUST LIKE ME?

... in which I Irrationally Want to Hurt a Character in a Commercial

This horrible horrible dreadful "don't talk to me until i've had my coffee" spot (for mcdonald's coffee! who is drinking mcdonald's coffee? No one who reads this blog, I can pretty much guarantee that) airs on VH1 all the time which means it is on the tv in my office every single day, drilling its way into my brain. And I have to say: I hate this character and also the actor who portrays him which such seething fury that if I ever encounter him in real life I will probably go all stabbytown on him.

Sux to Be You!

My dad has to spend 3 weeks a month in Sioux City. Did you know the airport code for Sioux City is SUX? They have a lot of gear about the SUX thing. This might be my favorite. It is horribly awfully wonderful.

edited to add: this one is also pretty horrible/fantastic.

Here There Be Bears

Remember when we learned that Arctic means BEARS HERE and Antarctic means NO BEARS HERE?
Some of us really like bears. So, here is a list of other things that have BEARS HERE.

Dentyne Ice Sugarless Gum, Arctic Chill

MotorStorm: Arctic Edge

Arctic Cooling Freezer 64 Pro Processor cooler

Power Wheels Arctic Cat Prowler

The North Face Women's Arctic Parka

Arctic Paws Salmon Bacon Soft N Chewy

Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not

 Arctic Splash Water Table

Einar's Arctic Freeze Hyper Hold Styling Gel

Arctic Air  Commercial Chest Freezer

Arctic Paws Omega MAINT Salmon Oil

If you buy these things, THERE WILL BE BEARS.
So, therefore, conversely, here is a list of things that DO NOT HAVE BEARS:

Antarctica Etah Eskimo Parka Byrd Expedition

Penguins Antarctic Emperor Penguin Cotton Tapestry Throw Blanket

Ice Scientist: Careers in the Frozen Antarctic

Antarctic Penguins Vinyl Shower Curtain

Those things will be boring and sans-bear, so do not buy them.

Happy Passover

This is what it says on the youtube thing:

Sometimes you have the world's worst sinus infection and you are going CRAZY with the pain and it hurts so much and you are taking all sorts of medicines and then at night when you try to go to sleep, this starts happening in your brain and also: happy passover.

And, honestly, I'm not like, totally insane, it's just that this sort of thing has been happening in my head because it hurts so much so I decided to exorcise the demon, so to speak, by just making the damn thing. Also, did I mention that I have the world's worst sinus infection? So i am stuffy. And in SO MUCH PAIN. I wish I could drill two holes, one under each eye, and put little buckets there like they do in Vermont to collect the maple syrup. Anyway. It's my Happy Passover card to you! Happy Passover.

I Love This So Much

This is the only thing getting me through the day. I am about to leave the office and go see my sinus specialist. She wears patterned tights. Last time I saw her, she raped my nose. She brought out this 3 foot snake thing and said she was going to put "just the tip" in my nose, and instead she totally raped my face. RAPED IN THE FACE. With an endoscope. Not really rape. Shut up, I am in so much pain. But you should watch this. It is joyous.


But -- this. THIS. This is the greatest thing I have ever seen.

via @JohnRoderick (thanks, Jrod!)

Chat Roulette Win!

Chat Roulette Win! This live piano-improv-song-as-commentary-whilst-chat-rouletting makes me happy like Jonathan Coulton's song about Flickr makes me laugh or like Stuckey and Murray's "Dramatic Song at the End of the TV Show" song makes me laugh. Also, I took some serious pain killers because I frakked up my back so maybe everything is just more funny than usual. And then I was walking back to my office from my mix and a pigeon flew into my hair and now I probably have bubonic plague.

Note: Chat Roulette Win because I only tried to Chat Roulette once and Lindsay and I put on costumes and then my camera on my laptop didn't work and it was so sad and was decidedly a Chat Roulette Fail... but if this guy Merton ever chat-roulette-sang to me, I would totally sing back.

oh! credit to @TheSquare!

YOU GOT CATTED!

The greatest thing in the world has happened. Somehow, overnight, someone, or someTHING, mysteriously decorated Scott’s cubicle with carefully chosen and artistically arranged photos of adorable, adorable kittens. They didn’t leave a note. They didn’t sign any of the photos or leave any sort of clue to indicate their intentions. All we know is a mysterious and anonymous person or smoke monster waited until everyone else left the office and then DECORATED SCOTT’S CUBICLE WITH ADORABLE KITTENS.
Is this a thing? Are people doing this around the office?
Because if it’s not officially a thing, can we make it a thing? When I first saw Scott’s cubicle I was like, “Dude, you got catted!”

I propose that we start catting people.

You can cat me next. I'm on the 21st floor.

... Which brings us to the theory of Continental Drift

In re: today's news that the earthquake in Chile moved the entire city of Concepcion ten feet to the west, perhaps one is thinking of Berkeley Breathed's prescience back in 1983 when he noted that the Earth sometimes quakes and shakes to realign America's political leanings. Here's hoping that quake in Turkey last night took us back to the left.

Where's the bear? He's the bear in sloungewear!

This is probably my favorite thing ever:

VH1 TV Shows | Music Videos | Celebrity Photos | News & Gossip

Fantasia for Real image spots on the other bloggy

I forgot to do it a million years ago before I went to Thailand, but I uploaded the Fantasia For Real image spots to the blog-about-things-that-i-direct.

I LOVE BEARS.

I love bears. Please, a bear, please hug me like this. (photo via my dad's facebook page and I have no idea why; I truly hope the girl in this photo is his cousin or something).

The Only Time I Will Ever Appear in the New Yorker

Woohoo!

The Greek word Arktos, meaning “bear”, is the origin of the word Arctic. Antarctica means “no bears."

How did I never know this? Isn't this one of those awesomesauce facts they teach you in elementary school to convince you that learning is fun-damental? Thank the stars I felt compelled to check and see if the Central Park Zoo has polar bears -- it does. I am going to go visit them as soon as possible. Polar bears!

From their website:

Polar Bear (Ursus Maritimus)

Zoo collection includes: Gus and Ida, both born in late 1985 at a facility in Buffalo, New York. They have been at the Central Park Zoo since it opened in August of 1988 and are two of its biggest stars.

Found in the wild: Along the coasts and inland streams and lakes of Alaska and Canada, Greenland, Norway and Siberia. The Greek word Arktos, meaning “bear”, is the origin of the Arctic name. Antarctica means “no bears”, so do not believe those commercials that feature a polar bear and a penguin together. It just isn’t true, they live on opposite ends of the earth.

The more you know! DING. Antarctica means NO BEARS. Honestly? Screw you, Antarctica. I love me some bears. I LOVE BEARS.

Tribal Council Song

I sing this song when I watch Survivor! Usually I sing it in my head. But I decided to sing it out loud, because, heck, I can either be FULL OF RAGE or FULL OF DOING THINGS. So I am doing things. Despite their stupidity. If you watch Survivor with me, we can sing it together.

Lutzing Into Enternity

In honor of tonight's Opening Ceremonies (I am an uber-dork about the Winter Olympics), I thought it would be nice to reprint an article I wrote in 1997, when the Nagano Olympics were mere moments away.

Lutzing Into Eternity

----------------------------------------

Our candidate for Slovenia's next national hero.

by Becky Schwartz
 
      Michelle Kwan started skating at age five after watching her brother practice hockey. When Tara Lipinski was three, her mom took her to a roller rink for a free Care Bears giveaway and thus was born a gold-medal career. Nicole Bobek turned to skating at age three after first pursuing professional gymnastics, ballet and modern dance. These lovely ladies of figure skating made it to the Olympics. I'm nineteen. My brother doesn't play hockey. My mom hates the Care Bears. And I can't even do a cartwheel. To hell with the odds­! I'm going to be an Olympic figure skater. I've sent letters to eight governments of foreign countries. Next stop: Nagano, Japan. (See below.)
Monday, December 22: Today I start training. I've heard that professional skaters get up before dawn to get valuable hours of rink time. No problem. It's 11:30 and I'm off to a vigorous workout. Downstairs. With Jake, as in "Body By." We work the abs and pecs. Michelle skates for six hours a day, but since I've just started, I think I'll take a nap instead. Because there is no ice rink nearby, and I don't know how to skate anyway, I've decided that my kitchen makes an acceptable substitute.
Saturday, December 27: Watched eight hours of figure skating on TV. Bushed.
Sunday, December 28: Completed a rigorous eighteen-hour marathon of figure skating. Dilemma: Discover Stars on Ice and Battle of the Sexes are on at the same time. Solution: Flip between the two, don't watch the instant replays and change channels whenever Verne Lundquist analyzes style.
Tuesday, December 30: Time to kick it into high gear. Can finally distinguish the jumps -- ­ you have to face forward for a lutz and backward for an axel. Not sure about the toe loops. The Salchow is, I think, a toe loop with an extra elbow wobble. Might need to research that. From the Recreational Figure Skating FAQ archive: "The Salchow starts from an 'open' LFO 3-turn followed by a strong check on the LBI edge. Leaving your hip open will extend your free leg behind you in the direction of travel. As the skating leg rises after the check, the free leg and shoulders are released (swung around) and the skater jumps, landing on a RBO edge after one rotation." No problem.
Monday, January 5: Salchowed my hips into an acute attack of bursitis. Out of commission for a few days.
Thursday, January 8: Nailed the camel spin for the first time. What a way to start '98. Looks like this just might be the year of the Schwartz. According to the Skating Archive, when executing the camel spin, "The upper body should be pushed, forced counterclockwise, as you are moving your arm. You can get a fast spin without a lot of speed on entry if you coordinate the body well, but speed on entry doesn't hurt either." If I push off from the refrigerator and avoid careening into the stove, I can complete a full rotation. The speed-on-entry phenomenon is a little difficult to master, but I know that with practice I'll get it. The Hamill Camel, pioneered by hairstyle goddess Dorothy Hamill, involves rotating your torso to achieve different angles. Dorothy didn't have any breasts. Damn.
Saturday, January 10: Fourteen more hours of skating-viewing under the belt. Still haven't hit the ice. Keeping in shape, though. According to the Skater's Fitness Guide, my objectives are: to improve strength, endurance and flexibility; to improve difficulty of jumps performed towards the end of the free program; to lose fat; and to avoid injury.
Sunday, January 11: Avoiding injury, I narrowly escaped a collision with the back door after the cat's waterbowl interfered with my death spiral. Note to self: very difficult to complete a death spiral without a partner, but if you hold onto a towel rack it gets easier. I'm practicing on the kitchen floor. If you rub your feet with butter, you get the same effect. Fun fact: Midori Ito, gold medalist, once jumped over the guardrail and into the camera pit. She still took fourth. Still haven't heard back as to whether I've made the team.
Wednesday, January 14: The lutz is when you stick your foot out and the axel is when you pull it in. Or vice versa. Not sure. Lutzed down the driveway and into a snowdrift. Axeled through the 7-11. Not allowed back. No problem. Good skaters don't eat Slurpees at 3 am, so I won't either. Good skaters also have coaches and a pair of ice skates, but these are only minor setbacks.
Saturday, January 17: More skating on TV. Michelle Kwan steals the gold at the Worlds! Tara was crushed. I think she's better athletically, but Michelle's got the grace and elegance. I think the problem is that Tara looks like an elf and the judges really went for Michelle's sexy Pocahontas number. I've seen each of their routines nineteen times now. My directing teacher says that the best way to learn how to direct is to steal from other people, so I'm following that advice and incorporating aspects of their performances into my own choreography. That triple axel/­triple toe loop combo is a bitch. Time to jack up those leg lifts.
Wednesday January 21: Still haven't heard from any countries and Nagano is getting closer and closer. Finished choreographing today. I'm the first American woman to land a quadruple! A quadruple is when you spin four times in the air and then land. I can spin four times in the air; I just have to jump between each spin. On the way to the gold. Practicing victory speeches: "This is going out to all the oppressed people of my country who sacrificed so much to get me here." "This is so corny."
Friday, January 23: I asked Eric [Ducker, co-editor of GRAIL] to take out the competition and bitch slap Chen Lu. He said no. Damn. Triple lutzed into the power table at the café. The leotard should cover the bruise.
Sunday, January 25: Not sure if this Olympic dream is happening. No problem. Couldn't take the Intro to Skating course because it overlaps with my religion class. The end of the world vs. sequins and tights. Maybe I can wear the outfit to class? Haven't gotten on the ice yet, but I wiped out in the backyard.
Wednesday, January 28: Andrus Field is frozen over, so I taped rulers to the bottom of my shoes and hit the rink. The rulers broke, and I think I may have bruised a rib. Tried calling Slovenia but couldn't get connected. I'm thinking that my original routine might be a little lacking in the presentation department­thinking of choreographing to some new, avant-garde composition by someone in the Newsonic Concert Series. Maybe I could commission something along the lines of, "Experimental Music by Which to Win the Gold and Capture America's Collective Heart and Get Your Face on a Wheaties Box."
Sunday, February 1: Don't think I'm going to Nagano after all. No one's come through and I'm pretty swamped. I'll give them two more days, and if I don't get any offers, I'll give up. Still haven't mastered the one foot figure eight. For that matter, still haven't mastered skating. Which reminds me­ -- still haven't gotten on the ice.

36 Songs Using the Same 4 Chords

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

It will probably come as no surprise to you to learn that these are my FAVORITE 4 CHORDS.

So, if you would ever like to write a song for me, odds are really good I'll like it a whole lot if it uses this chord progression.

Fuck that Man's Last Stand bullshit

That Dodge Charger spot in the superbowl about how hard it to be a man so you deserve a fucking sports car made me soooooooo angry! Seriously? It's soooooo difficult to be a man and to get along with your partner and share responsibilities? And I am just in an angry place. Call me kneejerk, but I made an instant slapdash dirty response.

The original:


My reaction:

This Thing Looks Like That Thing

I say this with the utmost of affection and admiration because I think Nick Kroll is just a fantastically amazingly funny person, but I was watching RuPaul's Drag Race and the man-who-plays-Tatiana looks so much like Nick Kroll that for a second I thought it was. And if it's not, then think of the fun they can have making videos together.

Although Tatiana does not look like Nick Kroll. Just in case you were wondering.