be kind to your mind.

I've had my body completely give up after high amounts of serious partying. Remember this post? This time my mind decided to hold me hostage at 5 AM in the wake of a whirlwind weekend of drinking and food with friends and family. There are no winners here, just two very desperate, tired, bitchy losers.

Me: Oh, crap! I have to pee, but it is so cold... I should probably just wet the bed. Yeah, I'm just gonna roll over and see how this all plays out. Nothing feels better than these sheets right now.

...

Wait...

....

Why aren't I asleep again?

My Mind: I'm not tired. Let's stay up and chat!

No, I have to be up early for work tomorrow.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're already late because you overslept!

What?! No! OMG! Where's my phone?!?

Ugh! iPhone light. So bright! Adjust your brightness settings and quit bitching about your battery life.

It's only 5 AM. I didn't oversleep!

BLAAAAAOOW! That's right. Gotcha, A$$-hole!

Is this because of this weekend?!

I don't know, John. Do you think shoveling heap after heap of fattening Thanksgiving food and washing it down with a gallon of sangria and a bottle of wine is a good way to treat your mind?! 

Generally, I'm thinking no...

Hell no! You know we can't drink vodka! And to add insult to injury, you overindulged so heavily you had to crash in your friend's guest bedroom spooning a dog that looks like a wallaby. 

Hey! You and I both know that that bed was SUPER comfortable and neither of us had to make coffee that next morning.

Touché.

Also, in my defense, I spent the next day with my family and didn't even go out on a Friday night! 

Yeah, you stayed home, drank on the couch, and watched three episodes of 'Happy Endings' and 'Revenge.'

Hey now! 'Revenge' is awesome, and as far as that other show... it was... sort of funny...

Mm'okay. It is basically NBCs 'Friends' with a cuter cast, a black guy, a gay, and no laugh track. Groundbreaking stuff, y'all. And, yes, Emily Thorne kicks all kinds of beautiful ass. And seriously, I want to be Victoria Grayson.

Enough of this! Can we go back to sleep?!

Shut up! And don't you dare write about this on your blog. And stop calling me a hero!

OMG! We are so 'Julie & Julia'!

I know, right?

Ahhh. Good times! But seriously, can we sleep now!?

No. I'm in control here, and I've had it! If you're not pumping me full of alcohol that impairs my judgement causing me to pen some very questionable text messages, you're force-feeding me crap entertainment. I mean, when is the last time you picked up a book?! 

OK. Fair enough. If you let me sleep now, tomorrow night I'll read a real book before bed instead of watching 'Gilmore Girls' on DVD.

Whoa! Slow down. I love The Hollow as much as the next, girl. Just take it easy or you'll never sleep again. Yeah, all you're gonna get at 4 AM is random Marcel the Shell quotes, random theories on how to make deviled eggs more awesome, and the Hampster Dance on repeat. Yeah you thought it was cute in 7th grade when the Internet was slow and GIFs were all new. But, now you're in your mid-20s and have to be at work in... Wait. You overslept!

CRAP! WHERE'S MY PHONE?!

PSYCHE!

OK. If you let me get just 30 more minutes of uninterrupted sleep, I will limit myself to one box of wine this week, and ask my friend if I can borrow 'The Hunger Games' instead of just watching the preview over and over again wishing I owned a bow and arrow. I'll even take us to a museum or something.

We both know none of those things are going to happen. But I'm tired too now. And yeah, get a bow and arrow.

Deal.

Goodnight.

trashy thursday

Thanksgiving is upon us. That's right, despite what almost every retailer in the nation thinks, there are other holidays to celebrate between Labor Day and Christmas. But, that's a rant for another day.

Anyway, other than my family's tradition of recreating almost every sappy moment from a sweeps episode of 7th Heaven when we take turns sharing what we're thankful for or my new found tradition of drinking way too much wine with my friends whose families also live too far to travel, Thanksgiving means exactly one thing to me: green bean casserole.

Ever since I was a kid, whether it was actually Turkey Day, a church potluck, or a Wednesday, I have always been obsessed with this dish. I don't know if it is the fried onions or the delicious creamy sauce, but green bean casserole tastes better than sex feels. Seriously.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it involves zero materialistic motivations, it is all about family, and, as red-blooded Americans, I think we can all get on board with anything that revolves around food and the decimation of a weaker culture.

For me it is about the food and family. So, when I went away to college and missed the 7th Heaven moments, I called up my mom to get the secret, hush-hush, almost magical recipe for green bean casserole. Like most college freshman, I wasn't very experienced with cooking. I was certain my mom used some sort of dark magic or a puppy's soul to make it taste so good. Turns out, the recipe is on the back of the French's Fried Onions canister!

Nowadays, cooking has become a real passion of mine. So much so, I like to pretend that I have become a food snob and only enjoy haute cuisine.  When the truth is, when it comes to a lot of food, the white trash version is better. Seriously, one time I was so hungover I ate Chef Boyardee Raviolis right of the can.

True story, y'all.

I can't even wrap my mind around the need to have a fancy green been casserole. I don't even want fresh green beans anywhere near that dish. I even put aside my complete and utter disdain for Cream of Mushroom Soup to make this.

I enjoy making flashy things that look pretty because I believe in a former life I was a food stylist, but when it comes to Thanksgiving, I think all the food should be the most white trash versions they can be. Like if my cranberry sauce doesn't have visible lines of the can it was dumped out of, I don't want it on my table. One year, my mom was trying to be all classy and cut it into individual slices. I felt like I was dining at Versailles.

To really class it up, this year we are frying our turkeys. FRYING, I SAY!

Thanksgiving: a day where dreams come true.

wow. just wow.

I can't stop blogging about music. You all hate me. And, rightfully so.

Anyway, if you're still reading. This is me writing yet another post about Kelly Clarkson.

A few weeks ago when I was blowing up facebook about how much I loved Kelly, her new album, and how I was such an avid fan of her I was almost certain our menstrual cycles were in sync.

A friend then promptly added to the fire by posting a fan shot YouTube video of Kelly covering fellow American schmIdol alum, Carrie Underwood. The song was from her 2nd album Carnival Ride and it is a disgustingly depressing ballad about a guy is lying about saying he'll call her back. It's called 'I Know You Won't.' Sidenote: No man, gay, straight, hermaphrodite or otherwise would NOT call Carrie Underwood back.

I don't know who or what convinced Kelly Clarkson to cover it, but God bless them. At first I didn't like the idea of it because they are such different voices and the crappy YouTube version sounded bad and I thought Carrie did a better version.

The versions are in fact very different. Kelly doesn't have long soaring notes that Carrie so effortlessly seems to hit. But I'm guessing there's a lot of auto-tune there, because I have never heard Carrie successfully recreate or outdo the way she sounds on an album during a liver performance.

To sound like a super queer Idol judge, 'Kelly really made the song her own, and I loved her spirit.'

Enjoy below: 

Kelly Clarkson - VH1 Unplugged

An entire 5 song set VH1 Unplugged airs this Friday, November 18th. Check your local listings or DVR it like anyone who has TV and money after 2006. Coincidentally, this air date is the same as my birthday. That's right folks, you have less than 4 days to get me the perfect present. The perfect present includes but is not limited to anything involving bacon, firearms, Kelly Clarkson, and absolutely anything by Le Creuset. That's French for 'really effing expensive cooking crap.'

comeback? shnock it off!

I have been very disappointed lately, on top of the fact that Saturday Night Live has yet to do a Miley Cyrus sketch this season, Madonna and Faith Hill are making their "return" to the music scene. I wish I could say their new songs 'pretty cool', but unfortunately they both need to 'shnock it off!'

Let's start with the one who is starved for more attention. With talks of being the star Superbowl Halftime Show (which has been abysmal ever since Janet Jackson's nipple slip), you would think Madonna would use her insanely gross sinewy arms to deliver. Not so. Not so, my friends.

Her new track titled 'Give Me All Your Love' takes off with a cheerleader inspired sound backed by a drumbeat reminiscent of that horrible Nick Cannon movie, Drumline. It literally sounds like she just heard Avril Lavigne's 2007 EP The Best Damn Thing and decided to go in that direction...

She cheers 'L-U-V! Madonna! Y-O-U! You wanna?!' Really?!

I mean really?!

Newsflash! Madonna, you are almost 54 years old and fake British. Why are you 1) spelling 'love' incorrectly and 2) channeling a 20-something Canadian's already bad music?!

The leaks are being taken down left and right, so I won't even try to find one of the Madonna track, but if you find it, it sounds like this...

but MUCH more desperate!

I'm 1,000% certain that gay fans across the world will eat this up as if it were being spoon fed from Madge herself, but I'm not one of them. This, like your face, Madonna, is sad, tired, and lack luster.

I'm not a giant Madonna fan, so I really don't care what she does or what I'll be dancing drunk to for the next six months, but something I do care about is country music superstar Faith Hill.

After 6 years without a studio album of new music and an almost hermit celebrity status, Faith Hill has decided to return to the music scene... with a One Republic cover. I'm sure Ryan Tedder is a nice guy and all, but can we all just agree that he's a douche?!

She quietly released it to iTunes last night and is premiering it at the Country Music Association awards tonight. It's called 'Come Home.'

I mean, One Republic tried to release a few years ago and even did a reworked version with Sara Bareilles. It did not do great. Here's the original:

So Faith and her musical team decided to take it, barely rework it, throw an acoustic guitar on there and decided to make it her 'comeback single.'

Here's her version:

This track is not a lot of things.

It is NOT the worst thing ever,

it is NOT special in any way, and

it is also NOT country! 

Just as much as Madonna is dying to cater to her gay fans and burn up the dance charts, Faith Hill is trying to tug at the heartstrings of Adult Contemporary radio with this ballad about her husband at war.

However, I see where she might be going. Her last album, Fireflies, was an attempted return to country music form following her blatant attempts at a pop-crossover with 2002's Cry. This sounds like she is trying to land somewhere in the middle of those two sounds. Which wouldn't be the worst.

So, in conclusion, Madonna just needs to stop. Stop everything. Retire now, take it easy with the pilates, and try not to continue to tarnish your glory days of the 80s and 90s. And Faith, TRY HARDER!

feeling old... again.

*knock, knock*

Death, is that you?!

No. It's Pizza Hut.

Well it turns out, I'm not dying. But it has become brutally apparent that I am growing up. My life used to be punctuated by semesters, graduations, and those age milestones (driving, voting, tobacco-ing, drinking, etc).

Lately, it seems like I am nearing the days where my life will be full of meaningful events like my first prostate exam, first grey pubic hair, or being called sir on a regular basis (without the 'step away from the police horse' immediately following it.)

I know I am not OLD, but I'm starting to feel it... all thanks to Kelly Clarkson and Beyoncé.

This coming year marks the ten year anniversary of Kelly Clarkson's inaugural win of American Idol. Ten years. I mean, that's almost half of my life of seeing loser after loser fly through the revolving door of that skid-mark of a reality show. Anyway, I can clearly remember her competing and winning. Not, "I remember where I was when 9-11 happened" remember, but it is a strong memory.

Now and then. Dang, y'all.

There was a time in my life where memories from ten years ago completely eluded me. I was too young to remember who was carrying me, changing my diaper, and locking me out of the house. Those memories had a solid haze around them. Now decade old memories are as clean and clear as a face wash commercial.

Also, the other day I was jamming my face off to some old school Destiny's Child. Remember them? That girl group that spawned the worldwide careers of Beyoncé Knowles, Kelly Rowland, and... that... other girl...

Most people today think Destiny's Child is Beyoncé's current unborn baby. No, that thing is called "Sasha Fetus."

Anyway, I'm jamming in my car to one of their first hits: Bug A Boo. I mean, This song came out in the 1900s! I remember rocking this song while smoking Kamel Red Lights in my busted Jeep Cherokee like there was no tomorrow. That made me nostalgic... which I think is fruity gibberish speak for "feel old."

Then I started listening to the lyrics... If a kid heard this song today, it might as well be sung in Mandarin (or I guess English if a Mandarin child was listening to it...)

Pagers?

AOL?!

MCI?!?!

I mean, were these ever real things? I sort of think I lived through their periods of relevance, but I'm not even sure. Part of me thinks they are real and another, more certain part of me thinks they are fake words Beyoncé made up. Like that time she made "whoa-oh-oh" into a full 3 minute song.


I find it baffling that an entire generation or generations of little gay boys and girls have no idea what any of these things are. I mean do they even know who Destiny's Child is?! Gasp.