Stephen Colbert takes it up the ass

After today's post on Glenn Beck, reader Defne pointed me to this brilliant five-minute sketch by Stephen Colbert, focusing on Mr. Beck. I'll leave the rest to him:

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

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Plus One, Minus Sarah

Dearest Readers,

I must leave you now and go on to a better place. That place is somewhere else in the big, big world of the Internet. Have you ever been there? It’s a wonderful place full of information and pornography.

I want to send out a special thanks to all you gay men out there who tolerated me for a whole week. That’s a long time to read a lesbian!

If you’d like to keep up with what I’m doing, then good for you! I can hardly keep up with it myself.

Otherwise, keep reading Justin Plus Some Other One. He knows some great Ones that have lots of great Things to Say. As for this One, I am signing off! Like Santa, I may see you again next year. Until then, keep your pink collars popped for me.

Glenn Beck: Fucked Up Crazy Person

Have you ever heard of Glenn Beck? I've seen his pudgy, bloated pancake face on billboards recently, ones that announce his recent hiring at Fox News.

But other than that, no, I've never heard of him. Probably because I don't live in a town where gays and abortion doctors are spit roasted and neutered to the tune of conservative talk radio.

::gulp::

Since Fox News is still perfecting the science needed to reanimate Hitler and Mussolini, and combine them into one mega-commentator (Benidolf Hitlolini?) they have instead turned to Mr. Glenn Beck to bring the latest bit of "We Report, you Decide" journalism.

Do I really need to tell you how evil (and red and sweaty) this guy is? Suffice it to say he makes the likes of Anne Coulter, Sean Hannity, and Bill O'Reilly look like moderates.

Even scarier is that he's masquerading as some charming yet odd-ball fellow, as you can see from his "personal interview" here on Fox News.

It also doesn't help that he looks like every douchebag I went to High School with. You know, the ones who would get into pointless verbal arguments with the teacher and then stand up and whine when they couldn't get the pass to go to the bathroom for the third time.

Oh. And he's a nutbag. See here:



I hope this man gets crabs from whatever Vietnamese hooker he bangs between lines of coke while preparing for his telecasts. And I hope those crabs release acid every time they bite. Now that's the kinda red I can get behind.

Laughs of Grass

What's scarier than a crazy woman in Bed-Stuy threatening to murder Sarah's entire bus? Well... not much. But this "English Paper" that's making the rounds on the Internet might take the gold.

Sure it's not real but, goddamn, it's pretty funny!

Read, and enjoy. My personal favorite quote would have to be "Walt Whitman died a lonely man in Walt Disney Land. He was on the gondola ride, and he fell out because he wasn't fastened properly to the restraint."

(oh, and if it's too small to read in your browser, just click the image for a full-sizer.)

Terrorist Threats: The Innocent Kind

There is a fair share of crazies on my ride from the northeast edge of Brooklyn to downtown. Most of them are picked up on a long ride through Bed-Stuy, which seems to be gentrification-averse and charmingly violent in the evening.

I know I’m in for a treat when I hear the grovelly voice of a woman in gold or silver sweatpants talking to the closest stranger. She rides to her “meetings” in downtown Brooklyn once a week, and has an uncanny ability to tell her life story to anyone within five feet of her, in 40 minutes or less.

After hearing the standard “I-was-a –junkie-and-now-I’ve-found-the-Lord” story (cliché) over a handful of bus rides, I overheard her in the rear of the bus this morning while I was reading. “No, I’m not suicidal, I’m homicidal. Some days I could kill this whole fuckin’ bus!” she tells the bus. And just in case the people with iPods didn’t hear, she says, “I think about it every day! Do you know how hard it is to think about killing a whole fuckin’ bus every day?”

That’s when I realized that her meetings were of the psychiatric variety. And I seriously wondered how many weapons could be stored in a pair of gold sweatpants.

An Important Lesson

Free At Last?

In speaking with a friend of mine on gchat just now, it occurred to me that I have no plans this coming Saturday night. It gave me pause. I can't remember the last time that I had a free night (ESPECIALLY one of the weekend variety).

In fact, I often have to sit and focus on nothing to remember being at my apartment and not at a party or someone else's apartment or a movie or a broadway show or an animals' rights rally.

I mean, sure, I have plans Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon, Sunday day and Sunday night... but all of those plans only made the gaping Saturday night hole all the more prominent. One of these groups of hours is not like the other.

What was going on? Was my Google calendar broken? What could it be? I wondered. Are my friends avoiding me? Have I done something to lose favor with those I spend my time with? What was I doing wrong? HAD I BECOME A SOCIAL LEPER?

And then it occurred to me: none of my Facebook friends have done anything noteworthy this week.

My past god-knows-how-many-weekends have been chock full of other people's birthdays, housewarming parties, stand up comedy performances, anniversaries, bris-es, bar mitzvahs, and valentine's day dinner parties.

So there you go! It's not that I'm any less popular. Noooo. It's that my friends are losers this week! Come on guys! Get it together! Does no one have a half-birthday? Did no one lose their virginity? Someone SOMEWHERE must be in the mood to throw a pimps and hos or priests and altar boys party!

No? Anyone? Come on man. Seriously. You can always fabricate a reason to go out, get drunk, and do regrettable things. I'm ashamed of your lack of creativity.

Also, I don't want to go home. I mean, sure, I spend thousands of dollars a year on DVDs, Blu-Rays, and video games that I have yet to even remove from their plastic wrapping... but who cares? Not I! I want to go out and spend MORE money. I can stay home when I'm sick (which will no doubt happen from partying non-stop... but enough of that.)

Oh, good. I just got invited to get trashed and ride a mechanical bull on the Lower East Side.

Drinking? Check.

Potential for embarrassment? Check.

Oh you KNOW I'm there.

xoJR

Queerlitism

There is always room for elitism. Even in a pile of egalitarian, inclusive rhetoric, there is always room for elitism. Get in a room full of gender and queer theorists and you’ll know that it’s possible.



This phenomenon? Queerlitism.

Yeah, we queers are really good with contradictions.

The scene usually begins with a straight person who makes an innocent comment about twinks or butches, and is subsequently attacked by queer friends who talk about how “problematic” that statement was, and about eighth wave feminism and about the difference between sex and gender. Our sensitive hetero friends feel horrible and cower in their lack of knowledge about the fact gender roles are okay, even though they weren’t, right after they were.

Oh, my poor heterosexual friends and their lack of secret knowledge.

Twink to the Past

I wasn't always the fine, upstanding, handsome and utterly professional man that you know today (har har har).

No, but really... I'm not kidding. I used to be a very different kind of guy. Hell, you might have called me a very different "boi" (shudder.)

Thank God for my friend (and ex) Paul, and the fact that he keeps photos on his computer and never deletes them. Last night it came out that he still had some photos saved in his files - photos of not the Justin you know, but a different Justin altogether.

One named Justin Luke.

I often speak of my twinky roots, (no hair dye jokes!) but don't have the proof to provide.

Now I do.

Wonder at my cornstalk yellow hair. My un-ironic wearing of an Abercrombie t-shirt that I turned into a sleeveless tee that says "Wanna Quickee?"

Really, it's so weird looking back. These photos are almost 8 years old. Crazy.

Much Ado about Texting

I was out with my friend K at a bar a few weeks back, celebrating my return to the single world and its many enjoyments (read: going out and staying out late, not having to run home). We had been chatting about how he was waiting to meet up with a guy he had been talking with online for over a year. He was very excited about the meeting, and I was excited for him.

The guy showed up, a ballet dancing twink of the Grade-A variety and I nodded at K and let him go off on his way. I had crashed into another friend at the bar and was more than happy to spend the time dancing and catching up with him.

However, every time I turned around I saw the funniest thing. K and his boy of the night, both dancing to Katy Perry or J-Timberlake or whomever, their faces cast in a dim light as they furiously texted on their phones.

And this isn't a rarity. The more people I meet and spend time with, the more I notice they always seem to be trapped in their cell phones. Texting like demons. When they're not texting, they're scrambling into their pockets because they have just received a text message.

What this has done, it seems, is taken us out of the present. Instead of being in the moment, we are talking with people who are not there. Why? Is where we are that boring?

Of course I am not innocent of this action. In fact, when I go to a bar and a friend walks away or I'm left on my own at a party, I yank out my phone and text the first person I think will respond. I don't want to be that loser standing there with no one to talk to! And as forward and gutsy as I am, on some nights I just don't have the balls to insert myself into a circle of conversation to make introductions.

But there's another side to this - and that is text availability. In talking with friends recently, I've heard a lot of complaints surrounding text messages. They text someone and that person doesn't text them back for days. I tell them to text the person again, but that is an unacceptable option. And so they sit and stew and go crazy, wondering when the person will text him back.

So, it's also a measure of coolness to NOT text someone back, because it means you're far too busy with actual life to bother tip-tapping on your cell phone.

What's odder is that I've seen these notorious non-texters, texting like fiends at parties and clubs.

What have we done to ourselves? In real life, you're cooler if there's a ton of people not there who absolutely NEED to interact with you. My God, you're so popular that you can't leave your phone in your pocket or your inbox will EXPLODE.

But, across the digital divide, you're popular and cool if you DON'T respond to text messages. Because, hey, what's the point of wasting all that time? You have a REAL life where you're with REAL people.

So confusing...

Oh wait. I just got a text message. I should probably go check it (funny thing, I really just did - it also just happens to work as an excellent end to this post).

xoJR

Naked Chicks. Drama. Below 14th Street.

Backstory: I used to write/perform for a queer soap opera back in Chicago called "The Ville" (aptly named after the Andersonville neighborhood, the "new" Boystown). I got word of a similar show concept going on at La Mama E.T.C. called "Room for Cream" -- looks to me like it's light years more intelligent than its queer TV soap brothers and sisters.

As the L word comes to a close, let's all hope that live theater can make up for the big queer hole left in television.

I'll be checking it out this Saturday at 5:30pm.

Room for Cream
The Dyke Division of Two Headed Calf
La Mama Theatre, The Club

Tickets $8
Season pass $50

Morning Politics: 30 Rock-upblicans

Last night, Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal issued the dying GOP's ragged gasp of a rebuttal to President Obama's rousing, bipartisan State of the Union. Did you catch it? It's right down here:

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Personally, I thought he kind of looked like a mix between a lizard and an alien. The way he speedily emerged from the corridor and came right at the camera actually spooked me out. I was happy to go ahead and say "scary" as my summary of his response.

But apparently I was wrong. A ton of bloggers are comparing last night's response to a monologue from Jack McBrayer aka Kenneth the Page on 30 Rock.



Others have said it sounds like he's talking down to Americans like they're a bunch of 9-year-olds (this isn't necessarily a bad thing - a lot of people I meet are just like 9-year-olds).

Either way, sounds like a rousing failure. Obama was sure to say things like "We may disagree, but we all love our country." I can't remember the last time I heard Bush say that over the past 8 years. Whether Bam really wants to be bipartisan or not, he sure put on a good show of it. Then Bobby comes on screen and compares boat rescues during Katrina to the stimulus plan... right before insulting volcano research (because only floods deserve to be studied, you see).

Anyway. My favorite part of this mess is this quote from the FOX NEWS article:

In the latest New York Times/CBS News poll, about three-fourths said Obama was trying to be bipartisan, and almost as many faulted the response of Republican officials, which was seen as politically motivated.

How does that crow taste, you fuckers?

xoJR

Blogroll Plus One: Mr. Sass Goes to Washington

Once upon a time, this blog had a different name (OMFG, NYC!) and it starred two gay men masquerading as Blanche and Jane from the cult classic "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"

After a few months of brilliant back-and-forths, those two men went in their different directions, and OMFGNYC underwent a massive transformation to become the blog you're reading today. Everything changes, and while they come with growing pains - things happen the way they do for a reason.

The other (not-Justin) one has since moved to DC and carried with him the cruel, catty, and abso-fuckin-lutely amazing blog he used to pen, and christened it Socialite Commentary DC.

Once NYC-based, the NEW Socialite Commentary is even funnier, wittier, cattier, and snappier than its predecessor and it comes from our country's mixed-up land of pillars, politics, and prostitutes.

Its blog-God, my good friend Patrick, updates on a daily basis with brilliant musings penned in a way that only he can do (believe me, I've tried, failed, and seen others try to do the same.) He just has a way of packing a sentence with razor blades, whoopee cushions, and MENSA-like intelligence.

His description:

Who says there are no good role models anymore? Here at Socialite Commentary (DC), we take an in depth look at the wave-makers and cocktail shakers that provide exemplary behavior. So enjoy this veritable "How-to Guide" for, by and with the socially inept.

Done in the style of a "How-To" guide, Patrick tells you how to do everything from:

How to Make Gender Bending Creepy
How to Make Dazzling Dinner Party Conversation

and

How to Celebrate Black History Month in Style

Since none of us blogging peasants can write what is the textual version of a proper bitchslap, we might as well oooh and ahhh at someone who can - consistently and completely.

Each post on Socialite Commentary DC is quick, to the point, and enough to make you actually LOL at work, causing your co-workers to stare at you and roll their eyes.

Fuck them, what do they know, right?

So check out Socialite Commentary DC. I've gone ahead and added it to my blog roll at the bottom-right to join the ranks of other blogging brilliance. Be sure to stop by, say hi, and have an effing blast.

Taco-Kill-The-Who?

I came across this apparently amazing taco joint in Sunset Park, which allegedly has the best tacos in New York and a facade unlike any genuine taco joint in the borough.

Then I noticed the name of the restaurant.



Taco Kill the Muslims? Am I wrong -- isn't that how this translates?

That's harsh, man. Although I will try your delicious $1.25 tacos.

Making your band (in 60 seconds)

Okay, this is a fun game for a run-of-the-mill Tuesday morning (why did I think it was Wednesday? Damn you, calendar!!)

Via BuzzFeed, here's a way to come up with a band name, an album name, and cover art in close to no time at all:

New meme: here's a totally random way to make your new random band's new random album cover. Post one! Go to “Wikipedia.” Hit “random” and the first article you get is the name of your band. Then go to “Random Quotations” and the last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album. Then, go to Flickr and click on “Explore the Last Seven Days” and the third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Of course I wouldn't recommend a distraction without trying it first myself. And, to be honest, I am proud of this random gem. It TOTALLY seems like the kind of CD (or iTunes cover art) I would see on the desk of one of the alt-rock punk-emo designers I work with:

Now it's your turn! Post on your blog, or right here. Take a few minutes for yourself today - this is really a hoot.

xoJR

Myspace is Dead, but the Message Never Dies

My friend Hanna Lopatin. She just quit her job in commercial production to hit the road and do what she really wants!

Like everyone who quits their job in a recession to pursue what they really want, I salute you!

(translation: Myspace = Facebook, for anyone under the age of 14)

The MySpace Song by Hanna LoPatin - watch more funny videos

Which is the Better Moet Ad?

If you were at an Oscar's party, and you had to choose between this



and this



Which Moet would you rather drink?

This was at the same party. Those boobs are painted, not clothed, by the way.

The Depression Chef

Yes, it may be hard to tell from the glitz and glamour of the Oscars and the long lines that seem to remain everywhere from Best Buy to Barney's, but we are in an economic recession.

It has been a long time since one of these came around, but luckily for us - not too long of a time.

Thankfully we can still look back to those who faced the tough times, and survived... like Clara, the Depression Chef

Clara was born in 1915 and grew up in Chicago during the Great Depression. Now she's on YouTube teaching a new generation how to make the simple, inexpensive food that her family used to eat during those hard times.

Clara has her own YouTube channel and online video series wherein she teaches us the hard-knock tricks of the trade that helped her family survive the Great Depression. Here are a few of her videos:

Pasta with Peas



Peppers and Eggs


Depression Era Breakfast


While not all of us are feeling the hardships (right now, thankfully, I am not) many others of us are. It's good to get the tips and secrets of someone who's seen something worse than this before. And for anyone who has no problem grabbing a table at Cafeteria or Vespa or Per Se, you should watch Clara any way because she's just so goddammed cute!

I will close this post with the inspirational words of my good friend Paul:

"If she made it through, we'll be fine."

Amen to that, sir. Amen to that.

Oscars Gay Glitz and Glamour!

Last week's co-blogger (whose apartment I was at last night to watch the festivities) called the Oscars the gay Superbowl. I respectfully disagree, far preferring to cite the Tony's as that gay night of nights, while relegating the Academy Awards to something like the Orange Bowl.

But then again last night, with the gigantic musical medley performed by a tight tuxedoed Hugh Jackman (wolverine is so fey when he shaves off those mutton chops!), a chorus line of twinky tuxed tune-istas, Beyonce, Vanessa Hudgins and Zak Efron (and Dominick Cooper and that girl from Mean Girls/ Big Love/ Mamma Mia) - maybe he was right.

Gay or not, it was ONE HELL OF A PERFORMANCE. If you didn't see it - take the 6 minutes to watch it right here:



And, not to be outdone was the medley of nominated original songs, featuring my personal favorite (and the winner!) Jai Ho. (this is also worth the 7-minute investment, trust me):



The evening all in all was a legitimately classy production. I was not bored for a minute. I loved the set, the video clips, the way they executed the actor awards... everything. I missed the first hour, but will be watching it tonight. I've already heard good things about the Tina Fey/Steve Martin bit...

Any way - all I have to say is bravo Oscar! In an economic recession you went all out and provided us almost 4 hours of quality escapism. To a magical, glamorous world of movie stars and fantasy.

I thank you for every minute of it.

Good Pantsuit vs. Bad Pantsuit

Hello Everyone! My name is Sarah Pappalardo, and I am this week's Plus One.

My favorite lesbian is Rachel Maddow.



My least favorite lesbian is Suze Orman.



Rachel is a lesbian's lesbian. She's definitely the smartest one, a pundit's pundit, and works for all the right media outlets. Suze Orman captures the hearts of Oprah and my mother.

I know Suze Orman's life story, because her informercial is on repeat whenever I visit my mother's television-infested home. Her face, with a cake of bad makeup and inch-thick eyeliner, make her look like a field hockey coach that got into the hands of a suburban cosmetology student. And I repeat: she is strongly aligned with Oprah.

Rachel, on the other hand, would probably make Oprah a little uncomfortable, because she is so much smarter than Oprah. And I'm going to take a guess that she doesn't feel the need to empower suburban moms. She likes good booze a little too much. And her glasses are too liberal.

You know what gets me the most? As soon as the inevitable recession reared its ugly head, Suze is at her laptop, somewhere between New York, San Fran or Florida, writing a book as fast as humanly possible to get as much money before her three-waves-behind feminist fans lose all hope for living. Boom! It's a New York Times Bestseller, so obviously people can still afford new books.

As if Suze was the only person who lived in a van in Berkeley in the 70's, she peddles her "I came from nothing!" story as if her honest waitress roots give her some kind of authenticity. I was a waitress. I'm miles away from authentic. I'm contemplating lipo right now, and there are people giving blowjobs for pizza outside my door. I'm just way too cool to sell common sense.

Meet Sarah!

From one East Coast borough to the next, we now hop a train (what train goes from Queens to Brooklyn? I always forget) to Bushwick, Bklyn where this week's Plus One resides. Everyone please say hello to co-blogger Sarah.

As women on J+1 are a rarity (but not for long!) I expect you to be on your best behavior. I told her that only the classiest of folks read this blog.



My Name:
Sarah Pappalardo

My Location:
Bushwick, Brooklyn

My Site/ Sites:
Diary-ah
www.velvetparkmedia.com
getsteady.com
www.theupturn.com

What I might post about:
Interest rates, structured investment vehicles, growth, the wives of investment bankers, shrinkage, having sex with the wives of former investment bankers

What I love:
Chris Brown, Ike Turner, world peace

What I hate:
Malaria, man. Malaria sucks.

My Last Word:
I used to think it was cool to write

in blank verse

Don't Let the J+1 Go Down On Me...

Well everyone it seems my week as Justin’s plus one has come to an end, and what a week it was! You got to learn a little bit about my family and my embarrassing and disgusting moments. I shared some videos and current events, as well as some commentary of the shape of society today. Which is all fancy talk for saying that I hope you enjoyed my random musings and bizarre interests.

If you haven’t already I hope you’ll check me out on www.homo-neurotic.com as I contribute my weekly sex/relationship column and some pop culture reporting. I hope to write for J+1 and you all again soon, have a wonderful weekend!!

XOXO

BB

Bless me Father, for I have Poked

While most catholic adults humbly (or loudly) give up candy, cigarettes, or red wine for their pre-Easter sacrifices, there's a new Lenten Lamb in town.

Facebook.

No I'm not kidding. According to this Wall Street Journal article, a large number of conservative Catholic adults are foregoing Facebook for the 40 days of Lent.

Lenten sacrifices are meant to honor and in a small way reenact the 40 days Jesus is said to have wandered the wilderness, fasting and resisting temptation. Abstaining from Facebook for the 40 days of Lent was the rage among college students last year. This Lenten season -- which starts next week on Ash Wednesday -- the cause has been taken up by a surprising number of adults. The digital sacrifice won't be easy, they say, but it may help them reclaim their analog lives.

The cute term for this sacrifice is the Facebook Fast. I'm sure God appreciates that his creations are spending 40 tag-free days worshipping him. But really? Facebook?

Well, we are in a new age. I guess.

All I have to say is: didn't Jesus caution us to stay awake and be ready, for we do not know the hour that the lord is coming? Well a lot of Catholics are going to be in a heap of holy trouble if our savior returns... but only posts the announcement as a Facebook note.

Recessionista....or Stupid?

During the Great Depression people adopted many practices to survive. They changed the way they cooked; to spend less on pricey cuts of meat they began eating liver and kidneys. They repurposed clothes and conserved energy as much as possible. They also were reluctant to get rid of anything that may be useful, as evidenced by your grandparents’ assortment of magazines, newspapers, and otherwise worthless stuff they have piled in their basement.

It may not really feel like we are in a recession or depression ourselves, but with the black cloud of the media hanging over our head crying, “Crisis!” it is a bit difficult to ignore. Though I haven’t taken to eating innards just yet, unless you count the generic mystery meat hot dogs I regularly consume, I have noticed myself engaging in some depression-era activities. I’ve always saved cards and hand written notes, but now I have begun rinsing out cottage cheese and margarine containers, storing with the rest of my fine Gladware for all the leftovers I’ll want to save in these unstable times.

But perhaps the most notable and odious activity, according to my friends, that I reluctantly admit to committing, is picking things up off the street. Ok, let me just say that I am not picking up newspapers, or used mattresses or anything that looks like it could be deadly or disgusting, but I may have thrown caution to the wind the day I found mascara. I was on my way to work and I noticed in front of me on the sidewalk the tell-tale navy and silver tube that indicates the best you can buy for your lashes: Dior. The packaging was pristine, not a scratch or a mark on it, clearly it had just been carelessly dropped by a rushed working woman.

Now say what you will, but a little mascara can go a long way, and this was a different shade than the one I had at home. I threw it in my bag and went on my way. I let it sit on my shelf for weeks, while my friends told me all the eye maladies that would befall me if I used it. Having recently had pink-eye, it did some a risky bet to use a stranger’s eye make-up, but it’s also risky to eat past due dairy and I’ve done that as well. So one night, already a little buzzed from my pregame and not wanting to weigh the pros and cons of this existential question, I put some on. My lashes had never looked longer, and they even seemed to curl with danger under the brush of my purloined cosmetic.

Well I survived. Blindness didn’t ensue the next day, and my eyes are still clear and healthy. I found a cat mask on the street last night and immediately put it on. Who knows? I may need that sometime in the future. I think we would all be a little more comfortable with the economic downturn if we just relax a little, and do what we need to survive and still stay sexy. But I may need to throw that mascara away. There are things worth saving, but perhaps our health should be the first and foremost. Some risks aren’t worth taking twice, that’s something you learn after a swig of sour milk.

Behind the Times: Bjork and Real Facebook

I try my darnedest to keep up with the Web. But with millions of videos of people being hit in the groin by other people's groins uploaded every day, even I can miss a video or two.

Are you like me? Do you sometimes send around the funniest thing you've ever seen only to get back emails from your friends saying "Whoa Grampa! Where've you been? Under a rock with smaller rocks on your eyes and in your ears? Totes saw this LAST YEAR-ZO!"

Well if you are, then maybe you haven't seen these videos either. One's half a year old, the other is a week old.

Both are hilarious.

Enjoy (or enjoy again!)

Bjork (Kristin Wiig) discusses Iceland's failing economy


What if Facebook were real life?

Snuggie Pub Crawl!

OMFG! I just found that there is to be a Snuggie Pub Crawl in New York! (Date TBD, sorry all you non-NYers, but they are holding them in other cities too!) I'm not even going to pretend like you may not know what a Snuggie is, but in case you aren't aware of the coolest/warmest blanket with sleeves out there, than watch this video below.



Aren't convinced it's the greatest invention (well until the Mustachle at least)? Too bad for you! My Snuggie brethern and I (and you know we will look like a creepy cult) will be pub crawling it up in the near future.

Go HERE for more details and to sign up for the email reminders!

Green, mean, and COMING RIGHT FOR US

Ahoy, Stargazers! This Monday, take a look up at the Southern sky. You may see something bright and green flying backwards through the sky.

No, that's not Tinkerbell, or Kylie Minogue as The Green Fairy in Moulin Rouge.


via videosift.com

No, it's Lulin - the little, backwards-moving, green-glowing comet that could.

The comet makes its closest approach to Earth (0.41 AU) on Feb. 24, 2009. Lulin's green color comes from the gases that make up its Jupiter-sized atmosphere. Jets spewing from the comet's nucleus contain cyanogen (CN: a poisonous gas found in many comets) and diatomic carbon (C2). Both substances glow green when illuminated by sunlight in the near-vacuum of space.

And this is your only chance to see Loony Lulin. It came from the outskirts of the solar system, 18 trillion miles away. Once it's made the journey around the sun, Lulin will gain enough speed to escape the solar system.

The best opportunity is just before dawn one-third of the way up the southern sky. It should be near Saturn and two bright stars, Spica and Regula.

Of course, on Monday nights I am usually stumbling out of Musical Mondays at Splash by Union Square. And, with vodka running through me and showtunes still at my back, I often see floating green things. And most of the time they're singing something from the 2004 Tony Awards.

More on Lulin here, if you want a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and can handle less rest before the your next day of work.

The MUSTACHLE!

Well since today seems to be product day on Justin + 1, I am thrilled to officially announce the greatest thing I’ve ever invented: The Mustachacle! (Part Mustache, Part Monocle)


Have you ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I wish I could somehow change my appearance without going to the trouble of actually growing a mustache?” Or, have you ever wanted to look more mysterious or distinguished? Perhaps you’d like to cover that unsightly mole or ‘birthmark,’ or simply would like to be able to unironically offer someone a mustache ride? Well then the Mustachacle is for you!

Perfect for any occasion, the Mustachacle is lightweight and portable, and certain to impress your friends and colleagues.

Need a little more dash at your dinner party? Mustachle!

Want to look more opulent at the opera? Mustachle!

Wish you could be more badass at your business meeting? Mustachle!



Call today, for just three easy payments of $1.99, the Mustachle can be yours!

And it looks great with the Naked, Tuxedo, or this T-Shirt below!

Naked shirt!

Remember that kid in high school who thought he was so cool when he wore that lame-o t-shirt that looked like it was a one-dimensional tuxedo? And he wore it to the prom or photo day? And you all rolled your eyes and wondered when was the last time his cigarette-smoking, lotto-playing mother forced him to shower?

Well now we have something his weird and awkward friend can wear to photo day as well, before they're both forced to the nurse's office for mandatory lice screening.

It's the naked shirt.

A little creepy. Kinda Silence-of-the-Lambs, John Wayne Gacy-esque.

But hey man, it looks a LOT better than the alternative.

At(wood)'a Girl!

Everyday Publisher's Lunch comes to me at work. (A trade daily newsletter, for those of you not privileged and poor enough to work in publishing) Today I was beyond thrilled to learn that Margaret Atwood, author of such classics as The Handmaid's Tale, cancelled her appearance at an upcoming conference because of their decision to not include a controversial book and novelist. Read on below...



"Margaret Atwood has pulled out of the Emirates Airline International Festival for Literature in the wake of the fair's decision to cancel the launch of Geraldine Bedell's The Gulf Between Us because of the inclusion of a gay character. Other authors due to appear at the festival, including bestselling children's authors Anthony Horowitz and Lauren Child, are now also reconsidering whether to attend.

Atwood, a vice president of International PEN, has written to the festival's director about the 'regrettable turn of events'surrounding Geraldine Bedell's The Gulf Between Us. 'I was greatly looking forward to the festival, and to the chance to meet readers there; but, as an international vice president of PEN - an organization concerned with the censorship of writers - I cannot be part of the festival this year,' she wrote in a letter posted on her official site. I know you have put an enormous amount of work into it, I can imagine how many difficulties have had to be overcome, and I am very sad about the regrettable turn of events surrounding The Gulf Between Us.'Bedell responded further with a post yesterday on the Guardian Books Blog: 'Can you have a literary festival and ban books because they feature gay characters? Is that what being part of the contemporary literary scene means? The organisers claim to be looking for an exchange of ideas - but not, apparently, about sex or faith. That doesn't leave literature an awful lot of scope.'"

More at:
Guardian
Bedell's Guardian Blog

Maybe we should all pick up a copy of The Gulf Between Us, whenever it becomes available.

Kill the Cartoonist!

I was chatting with Blair just before (what, you didn't know I chat with my Plus Ones off of the blog as well!?) when an email came to me by the way of the Huffington Post.

Now, I have always said (as I said to my friend Ricky in an email earlier) that I don't think anything is off limits as far as humor goes. ANYTHING. Can be funny. Nothing is too soon. The edgier and riskier it is, the better the joke is, no matter who cries about it.

Yeah. Well I take that back.

This cartoon appeared in today's New York Post.

And I have to say, it leaves me feeling a little sick. Let's start by looking at it... I don't think it's just me who sees this (it isn't) but it seems almost as if the cartoonist is comparing the crazy chimp that attacked a lady to Barack Obama.

So we have the race issue: because blacks have often been compared to monkeys.

But he's not just a monkey, he's a crazed, violent chimp. Because, you know, signing a stimulus to help millions keep their jobs and randomly unleashing oneself to maul a stranger are one in the same.

But really what gets me is the fact that the chimp is shot. I mean come on people, I'm not a sensitive guy and this has me feeling sick to my stomach.

Can the conservative assholes give our President at least a FEW WEEKS before they attack him? I mean, how about they wait until Barack screws up once on par with the screwups of our ex schmuck in chief?

Seriously. Offensive. Disgusting. Stupid. Can someone please find this cartoonist and gun him down? Code of Hammuarbi his ass.

Nostalgia Reading

Perhaps some of you have heard of this obscure little YA book series called Twilight. Well if you haven’t you are most likely not reading a blog or conscious, so I’ll go ahead and assume that all of you have at least heard mention of Stephanie Myers’ name, or seen a poster and thought, “He’s not THAT cute.” What? I know I’m not the only one.

Anyway, it seems everyone and their mother has now read Twilight, the same way we’ve all read Harry Potter. No, I am not interested in comparing the two series, because clearly HP wins hands down (sorry tweeny bloodsucker lovers), nor am I interested in arguing the positive or negative effects these series have had on the literacy of youth. I have noticed though, that adults seem to have become so enamored with these books intended for young readers, they’ve taken to discovering or rediscovering past classics and favorites from their youth.

It started when I saw a woman reading The Golden Compass on the train. Sure, the movie was out recently, but it got horrible reviews and didn’t do nearly as well as the previously mentioned books or The Chronicles of Narnia. But I began to notice more and more adults indulging in YA novels of the Gossip Girl and other teen drama variety. Personally, I am obsessed with The Luxe series. (Think Gossip Girl at the turn of the century.)

And now I wonder how long it would be until we were all back to reading Christopher Pike, R.L. Stine, and Roald Dahl. I have the complete set of Little House books sitting above my desk, which I’ve been dying to delve again ever since I completed them back in 4th grade. Are the Boxcar Children far behind? How much will we regress in the name of nostalgia reading?

Now maybe it’s just the movie and TV tie-ins that have ushered us back to adolescence, and what this says about the state of literacy and literature in America today, I don’t know. But when even Oprah is picking 576 page novels for her book club, I guess you can’t blame us for seeking out a little ‘light reading.’

What’s your guilty reading pleasure?