Does Anyone Else Think....

...That McCains Veep pic looks like the Baroness on GI Joe?

Come to think of it, McCain's got kind of a Destro thing going on:

Mazeltov to the Happy Couple!


A Wee Small Cottage in North Hollerback- and Pug Tails

Hi friends! So this is the big weekend- we are moving into our super-cute guest house in the north hollywoot woot. We got to walk thru it yesterday w/ out all the previous tenents stuff in it, and lemme tell ya, I lerv it. It is super-small, even littler than I thought, but it's just so well laid out and modern, that i don't mind it at all. And the backyard is perfect for us- super high fences all covered in ivy and such. I can't wait to get decorating.

Also this week, I went to a pretty cool little seminar at Equity. The lady who casts for Oregon Shakes (and for those of you who don't know, I would kill a baby unicorn to work at Oregon Shakes) did a long Q&A, and she was the bomb. I submitted my head shot and res, and don't really expect much from it (though you praying types need to get on this one) but it was good to realize casting people are just like you and me, except with a sick amount of power over actors, and a penchant for worshipping the Dark Lord. Just kidding. Or am I......

We pick up the couch Saturday morning, and I feel like i am picking up a lover at the airport. I'm so excited. Oh Graybones, how I love you. How I long to....well....sit on you.

Some bad news- Emmy, with her knack for finding new and exciting ways to injure herself, may have sprained her tail. You know how pug tails are all coiled like a spring? Well, hers is droopy. She shows no pain at all, even when I tug it or squeeze it, and she is getting better movement, but it's not its tightly coiled self. I talked to the vet who said as long as she was in no pain, to give it a few days before bringing her in. I also looked online and it said some dogs lower thier tales when they have impacted anal glands.....and so...


I put on some yellow kitchen gloves, plopped her in the tub, and EXPRESSED her glands. This gooey gray-green stuff came out, and it smelled like Satan's a-hole. Really, it was the Worst. Smell. Ever. You cannot begin to imagine, unless you have done this to a dog. In my Dad's colorful lexicon, it "would knock a buzzard off a shit wagon at fifty paces". It didn't fix her tail, but it may help with her problem w/ gas w/ oily discharge. I soooo threw those gloves away. Gavin was flying everywhere w/ Lysol like he was putting out a fire. And there. I have written the grossest blog in the history of blogging, certain porn pages excepted.

So that's my update for this week. I am very stressed out w/ all the misc. crap going on, but today, I am in relatively good spirits. Relatively. Someone call me up for pizza and beer on Sunday night, wouldja?


Me and Phelps Current mood: amused

First, a conversation that occured at 3:45am this morning as I drove Gavin into work:

Him: "Thanks for driving me, babe. {sings in bad Irish accent} 'And I love her soooo.....I wouldn't trade her for gold...'"

Me: "That song is kind of lame. Like, 'I love my woman so much, I wouldn't trade her for money.' Wow, how big of you."

Him: "Yeah, but it's a leprechaun song, and leprechauns like, NUT for gold. So it means more".

Me: "Good point. So leprechaun porn would just be pictures of piles of gold, and on-location photo shoots from fort knox..."
In other news, quite a few friends have pointed out to me that Gavin has a passing resemblance to Michael Phelps. This actually helps me out a bit, morally, as I do so lust after the Phelps. I can kind of see what people are talking about- they have some similar features, and both can look either kind of hot (in my 'umble opinion) or charmingly goofy depending on how the camera grabs them:


Whaddya think?


Come Sit On My Couch

So, all is well in the world of Gav and Nicole. I am, however, finally starting to feel the pinch of our current shitty economy. Grocery bill is higher, gas is kicking me in the ass, and there seem to be less bargains in the world- which for me is like cutting a junky off from her smack. I do so love to find "a good deal".

I did, however, score one such deal last week. Many of you will recall the saga of our futon,and how much I hate it with the white hot fury of a bonfire fueled with unicorns. I hate the awkward angle one must affect to sit on a futon. I hate the cheap pine arms of it. I hate the fact that it broke 3 days after we got it home and I fixed it with a metal plate from Home Depot and some finishing nails. Most of all I hate the "We-are-in-Undergrad-come-over-and-have-whatever-beer-happens-to-be-on-sale-and-don't-worry-if-you-get-too-buzzed-to-drive-we-have-a-FUTON-you-can-sleep-on-just-don't-vomit-on-it" vibe it gives off. I am, afterall, a woman grown.

Well, we finally took the plunge and got a new couch. A couch I have named Graybones. Cause it's gray. I got it at 60% off from Pier One- they added an extra 10% cause I pointed out it was a floor model (in perfect condition, nonetheless.) They also agreed to keep it till we get the uhaul for the move next week! Such a deal! It is swoopy and neo-classical and I lerv it. Or him. I think he's a boy.

So come over and sit on my couch in September. We are thinking of doing a house-warming brunch, if funds/schedules permit. You haven't lived until you've had Gavin's marscapone blueberry stuffed French toast and mimosas on Graybones, the Wonder Couch...Couch of Redemption and Light. Couch of the Ages. Couch of my Heart.


The Montauk Monster! And other News You Can Use!

So, a bloated raccoon/dog thing washed up on the shores of Montauk, and everyone is pooping their pants over it.

I dunno, I think it's a raccoon that had a REALLY shitty day, but I also love self-delusion as a life-philosophy, so I'll go along for the ride. It's a wingless Griphon!! Huzzah!!! Or, perhaps, as one skeptic suggested, the answer is closer to home:

*NOTE: Pug is sleeping, not dead. That's just how pugs roll.

In other news, we found the CUTEST new apartment in North Hollywood. It's a little guest house, with, get this, its OWN fenced-in yard. There is a lemon tree and grapes growing off the fence that you can actually eat. I don't know how you California types feel, but this little New Yorker beotch is pretty jazzed about fruit in her own yard. It makes me feel exotic and privileged. Maybe I'll get a pet peacock to wander the premises.

Anywho, it's a bit smaller than our current place, and like 150 bucks more expensive, but in a more "young", artsy area of LA, and I think it will go a long way towards making us more socially active here. Glendale has been peaceful, but in that retirement village sort of way. It was a nice antidote to the madness of our LOUD apartment in the Brooklyn, but now we are like Grizzlies emerging from social hibernation. We seek honey and berries and a good dive-bar.

We move in Sept 1st. Who wants to give us a couch for free??? HMMM?? Yeah, that's what I thought. God, I hate the fuckin futon, but it is my destiny for a while I think. Gavin has forbade me to spend our discretionary income on such Feminine Frivolities as presentable furniture. Instead, we must see all 12 super-hero related movies that come out this summer. Bastardo. No, really, he's right, we need to save our sheckels. So there you have it.