It's a shocker, I know. But one of the ridiculous reality programs on MTV actually accurately portrays the life of one group: the d-bags of the Jersey Shore.
I had my bachelorette party last weekend, and because Vegas is too expensive and far away, we went to Atlantic City. Wow. Let me just say wow. I have never seen so many tiny but muscle-y, orange men in my entire life. And they are super aggressive.
But, it isn't like they have any game - at least any game that I recognize. Granted, I have been in a relationship for a long time, but I think there are some things that are just universal.
For instance, it is not charming or cute to yell at a girl, "Hey, Bachelorette. It's my bachelor party, and we can have sex until tomorrow." In case you are wondering what I replied, I told him he didn't meet the height requirement.
Other things that are not cute:
1) Grabbing ass on the dance floor when the club turns the lights out (however, that did lead to one of the more quotable nicknames of the party. The "butt bongo pirate" was coined by MR. Well done!)
2) Coming up behind a girl and rubbing your crotch on her while grabbing her stomach. No one touches my stomach.
3) Unbuttoning your shirt down to your belly button.
4) Fist pumping
5) Excessive hair gel
6) Tanning until you turn orange. Seriously, orange.
In spite of - or perhaps because of - the men of the Jersey Shore, I had a wonderful weekend. Thanks to the ladies - including my fellow bitch Elle - for making it a great send off to my single lady status. But, I do still hate you all for the tiara and veil.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Please Do Not Disturb the Urbanite in Her Natural Environment
April is upon us, and for those of us in D.C., that means cherry blossoms, allergies and the official start of tourist season. I'm as happy for the warm weather sans impending humidity as the next gal, but I hate this time of year.
At some point when you were a youngster--for me it was like 7th grade--your school thought it was a good idea to take you to our nation's capital and brainwash you with a fine bouquet of patriotism with the faintest hint of xenophobia. You looked at monuments, visited museums, and more than anything enjoyed being away from your parents and sleeping in the same hotel where your crush was, even if there were like 30 chaperones between you and him, ready to pounce at the faintest scent of hormones.
Never did you consider the fact that that bicameral legislature that you're admiring has a whole staff of people who live and work in D.C. and keep that thing running. And that that legislature has a whole lot of corporate interests that wish to influence it and employ an army of people to do so. And that news organizations cover the relationship between the two, which they do by being chock full of staff. And that all of those staffers need to eat and shop and see movies somewhere and that there are a whole host of people who FRIGGIN' LIVE HERE AND THE CITY IS NOT A PLAYGROUND OF STATUES BUILT FOR YOUR TOURISTY AMUSEMENT! YOU DIDN'T CONSIDER IT, DID YOU!??!
Sorry, I get a little worked up. And I'm still pissed that Granny O'Grimm didn't win the Oscar for Best Animated Short. Anyways, my point is, as a tourist and visitor to this place, you should respect the local customs and try not to annoy the city's natural population--the urbanite.
Those things aren't modern day black magic, they're called escalators. And while they are, in fact, very long, they are not a photo opportunity. Kindly stand on the right and walk on the left or suffer my wrath. Oh, oh, you think I won't curse at your five year old who is "adorably" trying to run up the down escalator during morning rush hour traffic when I am running 15 minutes late to work? You are so fucking wrong.
As with most wild animals, the best way to avoid a mauling, is to keep a respectful distance from the beast, and the best way to do that, is to recognize it. So, with the help of 2B1B's graphic designer in residence AO, I give you....
The urbanite may have any or all of the evolutionary advantages listed above. And in addition to the flip flops, she may also be carting high heels in a reusable grocery bag because the guy at CVS isn't asking you if you'd like paper or plastic, he's asking you if you'd like to pay $0.05 or just manage to carry your purchases on your own without murdering the planet.
The urbanite is well adapted to her environment. Sorry tourist, I'm not even looking at you. I can't tell that you're lost and need directions. I'm staring at something else disdainfully behind these sunglasses. Oh, that homeless dude was asking me for money? I thought he was waving and helpfully providing a back beat to my ipod with his coffee cup full of change. PETA chick, I would take your stupid little flyer filled with oddly racist arguments about why animal cruelty is bad if my hands weren't so damn full with this coffee and this Blackberry.
It's best to allow a perimeter around the urbanite and to stay out of her direct path--the urbanite doesn't waver and stupid little high school girls in their school shirt who failed to get out of my way while I was walking to work this morning may have gotten knocked on her ass in a crosswalk only to have her teacher cursed at about the proper time and place for tourists when she tried to scold me. Spill my coffee on me and pay the price--I have theater tickets for tonight. You're just going to the fucking Spy Museum.
At some point when you were a youngster--for me it was like 7th grade--your school thought it was a good idea to take you to our nation's capital and brainwash you with a fine bouquet of patriotism with the faintest hint of xenophobia. You looked at monuments, visited museums, and more than anything enjoyed being away from your parents and sleeping in the same hotel where your crush was, even if there were like 30 chaperones between you and him, ready to pounce at the faintest scent of hormones.
Never did you consider the fact that that bicameral legislature that you're admiring has a whole staff of people who live and work in D.C. and keep that thing running. And that that legislature has a whole lot of corporate interests that wish to influence it and employ an army of people to do so. And that news organizations cover the relationship between the two, which they do by being chock full of staff. And that all of those staffers need to eat and shop and see movies somewhere and that there are a whole host of people who FRIGGIN' LIVE HERE AND THE CITY IS NOT A PLAYGROUND OF STATUES BUILT FOR YOUR TOURISTY AMUSEMENT! YOU DIDN'T CONSIDER IT, DID YOU!??!
Sorry, I get a little worked up. And I'm still pissed that Granny O'Grimm didn't win the Oscar for Best Animated Short. Anyways, my point is, as a tourist and visitor to this place, you should respect the local customs and try not to annoy the city's natural population--the urbanite.
Those things aren't modern day black magic, they're called escalators. And while they are, in fact, very long, they are not a photo opportunity. Kindly stand on the right and walk on the left or suffer my wrath. Oh, oh, you think I won't curse at your five year old who is "adorably" trying to run up the down escalator during morning rush hour traffic when I am running 15 minutes late to work? You are so fucking wrong.
As with most wild animals, the best way to avoid a mauling, is to keep a respectful distance from the beast, and the best way to do that, is to recognize it. So, with the help of 2B1B's graphic designer in residence AO, I give you....
The urbanite may have any or all of the evolutionary advantages listed above. And in addition to the flip flops, she may also be carting high heels in a reusable grocery bag because the guy at CVS isn't asking you if you'd like paper or plastic, he's asking you if you'd like to pay $0.05 or just manage to carry your purchases on your own without murdering the planet.
The urbanite is well adapted to her environment. Sorry tourist, I'm not even looking at you. I can't tell that you're lost and need directions. I'm staring at something else disdainfully behind these sunglasses. Oh, that homeless dude was asking me for money? I thought he was waving and helpfully providing a back beat to my ipod with his coffee cup full of change. PETA chick, I would take your stupid little flyer filled with oddly racist arguments about why animal cruelty is bad if my hands weren't so damn full with this coffee and this Blackberry.
It's best to allow a perimeter around the urbanite and to stay out of her direct path--the urbanite doesn't waver and stupid little high school girls in their school shirt who failed to get out of my way while I was walking to work this morning may have gotten knocked on her ass in a crosswalk only to have her teacher cursed at about the proper time and place for tourists when she tried to scold me. Spill my coffee on me and pay the price--I have theater tickets for tonight. You're just going to the fucking Spy Museum.
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