I know you've been waiting for an update on which things give me itchy hives, so allow me to finally put the speculation to rest:

I got the results of the test back: I definitely am allergic to cashews. (If you're not hearing me deliver that line like the breast cancer revelation from The Room, then you know me even less well than I knew I have a nut allergy.)

If you'll recall, at the beginning of the year, I had a horrible allergic reaction, which I suspected might be related to cashews but I was too afraid to confirm because a) I didn't want to test it and break out into a useless mess again and b) cashews are my favorite nut and I am not keen on the idea of giving them up. Well, this week I threw caution to the wind and bought a can of cashews and WABOOM, itchy red blotches on various parts of my body… but mainly around my crotch.

The damn thing is that I like cashews so much that I can't even promise I will never eat them again. Food allergies are new to me (other than the fact that maybe just about every food gives me diarrhea, but I digress), but I always thought people were repelled from foods they're allergic to. Is there some kind of bargain I can make where I give up almonds and pistachios and macadamias so that I can keep eating cashews safely? It might seem drastic, but I'll do it.

For now, though, no cashews for me, if only because they make the area around my butt hole itch. You don't know how difficult it is to be in public when all you really want to do is scratch vigorously in the vicinity of your butt crack.


The Book Report

Three O'Clock High is an unremarkable 80s high school film, but it was almost worth watching it for this one particular scene. The scene culminates in one of my new favorite throwaway one-liners - it's so quintessentially 80s that you can't help but laugh even though it's not actually funny.

Here's the only context you need: the protagonist has been challenged to a fight after school by a bully, and in an effort to avoid having to show up, he tries to get his teacher to give him a detention by misbehaving during his book report. The teacher has not been a character until now - 2/3 through the movie - and her, uh, reaction to his antics is farfetched even for this particular plot.

Still, it's the last line that really matters. I desperately want to type it, but I think it's better unspoiled. Besides, just seeing it in words doesn't do it justice. You need to see the character actor's goofy face and oversold delivery for it to resonate.

But henceforth, let's quote it to each other when we hang out, cool?



I'm obsessed with the 300 Sandwiches lady. Bless her desperate culinary efforts to get wifed up. I might even love her enough to marry her for fewer sandwiches. 117 sandwiches is my official bid - what do you say, sweetie?


Schlong Skirt

How old does Mad Men's Sally need to be before we can point out that she’s wearing a schlong skirt? You’d think that she’s walked in on enough adults having sex that she’d recognize a bunch of dicks by now. The poor girl is trapped in the middle of a circle jerk.


Which Mode of Transportation Does God Use?

A lot of people have existential questions about God, but my main query is a bit more focused: How does God get around? Helicopter? Boat? Rollerblades?

Rather than going to The Bible, I consulted the same source I use for all of my religious-based inquiries: the pop/rock hit songs of 1995. Here are the three ways that God stays mobile:

1. BUS
Song: One of Us - Joan Osborne
Lyric: "What if God was one of us? 
 Just a slob like one of us? 
 Just a stranger on the bus
trying to make His way home?" 

Like any good stranger on the bus, you can bet that God avoids eye contact, puts his belongings beside him on a seat so no one can sit next to him, and fumbles with his change when paying the fare.

Song: Everything Falls Apart - Dog's Eye View
Lyric: "I met God this afternoon
riding on an uptown train.
I said, 'Don't you have better things to do?'
He said, 'If I do my job,
what would you complain about?'" 

Though it seems like a step up from the bus, God appears pretty snippy while riding the train. Telling a dude that he's shirking his deity duties because humans are just going to be unhappy regardless is hardly the act of a courteous passenger.

3. CAR 
Song: Counting Blue Cars - Dishwalla
Lyric: "We count only blue cars, skip the cracks in the street,
and ask many questions like children often do.
We said, 'Tell me all your thoughts on God
'cause I would really like to meet her.'"

The big reveal here isn't that God drives a blue car, but that He is actually a She. God or not, it seems a little unsafe for her to be operating a motor vehicle given what we know about female drivers. Stick to public transit, sweetie!


I Guess You Know You've Made It When Buzzfeed Starts "Borrowing" Your Content

(It's cool, it's cool, at least it was attributed.)



Ugh, so I like to think I'm a good liberal, but then when I'm crunched for time while playing Scattergories and I need an "I" word for "Found in New York City" I hastily write "illegal alien."

People are not illegal! Even outdated press agencies have dropped the I word, yet here I am having it be my first association with NYC.

I was only slightly ashamed initially, until I remembered that, even if that was my train of thought, I could have still scored a point for putting the much more PC "immigrant." WHY DID ILLEGAL COME TO MIND BEFORE IMMIGRANT? Even if I was hellbent on using the word "illegal", at least "illegal immigrant" would have scored me double points.

Put a timer in front of me and I'll start panicking enough to let my unconscious racist tendencies show.


Top of the Lake

On paper, Top of the Lake is the most captivating you'd think you'd ever watch:

  • a pregnant preteen 
  • a cult 
  • murder 
  • crooked cops 
  • a missing person 
  • Holly Hunter 
  • incest 
  • roofies 
  • rape 
  • child rape 
  • incestuous rape 
  • accidental incest followed by intentional incest 
  • Peggy from Mad Men's boobs 
  • more naked women than I've ever seen at a single time 
  • recreational drugs 
  • an insane man 
  • Xena Warrior Princess 
  • dart injuries 
  • paternity tests 
  • enlightenment 

But then you watch the miniseries and it's like, "How is this so boring? Why is this paced to take all of the excitement out of everything? How did so many illicit things happen and yet it feels like I watched nothing?"

I'm still hoping it takes home some Emmys because look at that list again! Turning all of that into something that's a chore to watch is a feat!


How Do We Stop a War?

It's so pathetic that we are inevitably going to war with a country for reasons we can barely explain. Obama has promised to lay out the reasons for bombing Syria, but the excuses are slow to be shared, and even those that are aren't passing the sniff test. How is it in a "democratic" country that the government can wage war against a country that is not posing a threat to us even when the majority of Americans do not support such a war?

Initially, I didn't know how to feel about the proposed attacks on Syria. I mean, what did I know about Syria? So I learned about it. Here's a great primer for beginners who need some help learning, as well - and I promise that it's not difficult to comprehend.

Here's the thing: it's not black and white. This would be way easier if there was a good side and a bad side in Syria, but there's not. The authorities are evil AND some of the rebels are evil, while some other revolutionary facets exist that maybe aren't bad but it's hard to tell because everyone's just getting slaughtered - over 100,000 people in fact.

So how do we bring peace to Syria? Bomb the fuck out of them! Lol, jk, that doesn't even make sense… it's just American diplomacy. The U.S.'s current position is one of, "Stop killing each other so we can kill you instead!"

Obama is a warmonger. Progressives don't want to hear it, but the evidence has been in front of you the whole time. The endless drone warfare. The continued military occupations in countries we've "liberated". Shame on any liberal who (rightly) criticized Bush for his phony reasons for war, but are plugging their ears and giving Obama a pass on this one because they don't want to face that they are complicit in this system. A sham of a system that we all perpetuate by pretending we have a choice when the Democrat/Republicans take us down the same path. The military industrial complex needs to attack foreign countries to thrive, and Obama is happy to handpick them one.

"But Syria used chemical weapons!" Fuck that noise. The U.S. used chemical weapons in Vietnam, who punished us for that shit? In the case of Syria, you don't get to sit around as tens of thousands of people die from bullets, and then suddenly be like "Hundreds died from chemical gas? That's inhumane!" How many senseless genocides have occurred with no U.S. intervention? There is nothing heroic about bringing additional war to a war-torn nation.

I liked this sign I saw today: "200,000 refugees and we send BOMBS?" It's not that we shouldn't lend support to the people of Syria - we need to do it in a way that will be helpful, not counterproductive and, well, fatal. And maybe - just once - the U.S. could sit this one out. Let the UN or a country that actually maintains some kind of moral authority get involved, because clearly the American "solution" is not a real solution.

I attend a No War in Syria protest today on Hollywood Boulevard. It was kind of interesting confronting blissfully ignorant tourists with the realities of the US regime, and the visibility for our message was high. However, no one was keeping a more watchful eye on us than the police. As usual, they surrounded, intimidated, and even arrested some of the protesters in attendance. Your country guarantees you the right to protest, but when you actually try to do it… they try to block people from seeing you and pull out their batons and EVEN GUNS in the hope of scaring you away.

The police's action makes the picture all the more clear: you don't want war? Tough shit, you're getting war. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. That said, we need to find a way to stop it.


Nail Clippers

So my roommate is like the Rain Man of nail clippers. Apparently he keeps his in a very specific spot and they went missing and he seemed a little agitated about it.

"I don't know if they're yours, but think I've seen some downstairs in the bowl by the TV," I say.
"Oh, does it say the word 'TRIM' on it?" he asks.
I laugh in his face. "I… I… how would I know? It's never occurred to me to read the inscription on the nail clippers." Never mind memorizing what it said.
"Cool, well I'll go check it out."

He disappears downstairs and comes back some minutes later with shorter nails.
"Did it have 'TRIM' on it?" I ask, half joking.
"Yeah," he responds.
"Oh great, so it must be yours."
"Nah, it's not mine."
"It's a different one. I know because the file on mine is slightly bent."

Say what you will about the man, but he knows his nail clippers more intimately than I know most of my friends.

Later, I decide to check out my own nail clippers to read the inscription. I want to be the kind of responsible clipper owner that knows the brand name well enough that I can call it out should it go missing. Unfortunately, what I see, I can't un-see:

For who knows how many years, I've been obliviously trimming with PRiNCESSA clippers. I'd probably feel too emasculated to use them now, except that the only thing more emasculating would be to let my nails grow long.

Where are those Trim clippers anyway?


Who Are the People In Your Neighborhood?

I encountered some awesome people just before getting on and then again just after getting off the train yesterday.

First, Christine pointed out a woman walking ahead of us that she called "Ariel". Indeed, the woman with red hair - not like orange "let's call it red" hair, but straight up dyed scarlet red hair - and a flowing teal dress looked straight out of The Little Mermaid. Obnoxiously, we started singing "Part of Your World" behind her.

As we got even closer to her, however, she didn't smell fishy. She smelled… skunky. I got a big whiff of pot and then noticed she was lighting a bowl right there on the street. Forget "Under the Sea", she was Under the Influence… in public. Gotta love a Disney princess who willfully defies the law.

The train ride itself was pretty normal, other than the fact that we sat beside a stunningly beautiful woman. "She is way too pretty to take public transportation," Christine noted.

Right off the train, however, we encountered a fight. A black woman and a Caucasian man were getting in each other faces and shouting for the whole block to hear. The woman screamed, "I'M A REAL N*****! I DON'T OWE YOUR HOMELESS ASS ANYTHING!" The man was offended. "Whoa! One: I'm not homeless! Two…"

I didn't get to hear point two because I was laughing too hard. He might not be homeless, but appearance-wise - and I say this as someone with compassion for the homeless - he could have fooled me.

More than anything, I wanted to know the context of the fight. Like why did she have to state that she was a real [racial epithet]? Did he somehow offend her by not calling her the n-word?

Even though she seemed to be the aggressor in the altercation, in a subsequent game of "would you rather", I decided I'd prefer to be the woman's friend of the two. Better to be a real n***** than a fake homeless, am-I-right? Of course, I reckon they could both be pleasant if they took some time to mellow out with the Little Mermaid.



At pub trivia tonight, we had a round where we were asked to name the top languages spoken by native speakers. We quickly brainstormed the obvious (Mandarin, English, Hindi, Arabic, Spanish) then moved onto the -ese's (Cantonese, Japanese, Portuguese, etc.)

Then one of my teammates said "Think of Colonese."
I went to write it on our answer sheet, but realized I couldn't since I didn't understand.

"Yeah, Colonese."
"Wait, like, Colonese?"
"Yeah." [others nodded in agreement]
"I'm embarrassed to say I've never even heard of Colonese."
"No, like, Colonese."
"Who speaks Colonese?"

Finally it dawns on me. Not "Colonese". COLONIES. Like imperialism. French. German.

Normally, I'd gladly own up to being a dumbass, except that we won so fucking hard tonight that I will accept no other label than smartest drunkard in the bar.

Swi le jeet! 

For you rubes out there, that's Colonese for "I'm the best!"