Tats Show Celebs How Much You Care

People with large, full-color tattoos of Tony Danza, Rodney Dangerfield, and Will Ferrell as his character in "Elf" actually exist.

All the Body's a Stage
From NY Times

SNL Carries on Legacy of Hilarious Comedy Coke Consumption

Gawker just posted this entry via Page Six regarding the following blind item:

Which "SNL"-er is living up to the show's storied history of drug abuse with a whole lot of blow at the all-night after-show parties?

I mention this only because I remember reading this Village Voice article back in October about how the current cast was so clean they squeaked:

For years, SNL was synonymous with wild and crazy, not just in its comedy but also in its animating spirit; the dark side of that was discord and drug abuse—to the point where, by the late 1990s, two cast members, Belushi and Chris Farley, had died of drug overdoses. Tonight, those days seem especially distant. No one is getting smashed. No one is in the bathroom snorting cocaine. A few cast members come outside for a cigarette—Amy Poehler with her husband, Arrested Development's Will Arnett, Bill Hader, Will Forte—but that's about it.

I remember thinking at the time that this was total bullshit and that whoever wrote it had really poor skills of observation. I used to live in the same Williamsburg apartment building as a certain cast member, and every time dude got off the elevator and I got on, I practically got high off his leftover fumes. He was like Pigpen, except instead of a cloud of dirt, he had a cloud of pot following him around. If he wasn't stoned at that after-party (above), I'll eat my arm. Seriously.

Which SNL Star Is Keeping the Coke-Addled Legacy Alive?

Grey's Anatomy Doctors Can Save Friend Who's Been Dead for Six Hours But Not Mildly Sick Strangers

So Meredith Grey was dead for, like, six hours on tonight's episode and then miraculously came back to life so she can continue to have sex with Patrick Dempsey. Well, we knew she wasn't going to stay dead; you knew that, right, producers? Title characters don't die (unless you're Valerie Harper). And what kind of superhuman loses that much oxygen and then wakes up with no brain damage? And who was that annoying dark-haired doctor who had like two lines throughout the show? And why did you guys give her a job? You know, the woman who told Dr. Bailey something about "a run for her money" at the end? The one who was super overzealous, kind of like that girl everyone knew in high school who sang louder than everybody else in drama class? And how come Meredith manages to keep her job even though she doesn't really do anything doctor-y? Unless you consider whining and screwing doctor-y.

Grey's Anatomy

ESL Dropout Doesn't Quite Grasp Times Article

So this NY Times article about our lack of inhibition when sending e-mails or text messages (i.e., we'll say something electronically we wouldn't necessarily say in person) isn't that fascinating and I don't even know if I agree with it. If anything, I think I'm overly sensitive when I send e-mails that I'm not saying anything that'll come back to haunt me. However, the article allows readers to comment on their own experiences of sending an e-mail they wish they hadn't, and this entry is wonderful:

It happens to me one day to send a message to a friend greeting him.Latter on he answered me.The problem is that my mesage was misunderstood and it caused me many problems.Frankly,I regretted sending that message and I wished If hadn’t sent it.But it was too much late
— Posted by Jane

Misunderstood, huh? Wonder how that happened, "Jane."

Flame First, Think Later: New Clues to E-mail Misbehavior
Comments (See Feb. 20, 5:54 a.m.)

Post #11, In Which the Blogger's Penchant for Vodka Tonics and Her Inability to Describe Music Will Be Revealed

Yesterday was one of the first spring-like days in New York and while it probably didn't reach 50, winter coats were shed and skies were blue. All this got me thinking about spring music. I used to play a track from this album by Heavenly on the first warm-ish day of the year. It seemed appropriately optimistic and I'd borrowed (and accidentally kept) the album from some guy I once dated in the spring long ago.
It's seldom that I find bands to fall in love with anymore, but I'm pretty excited about these three albums below. They all make perfect sunny day soundtracks. I wish I could articulate exactly what that means, but I would probably end up churning out some bullshit that I don't even buy. The Postmarks (who, last night, after a few vodka tonics I was incorrectly referring to as "The Postcards, they're great, really," thereby making a bit of an ass of myself) are probably my favorite here right now.

The Postmarks Via Free Williamsburg
Lavender Diamond
The Bluegrass Tribute to The Shins

I Miss Williamsburg, Where the Delivery Men Actually Have Balls

Some months ago, I moved from Williamsburg, Brooklyn to Long Island City, Queens. I have always hated Queens, but I found this amazing studio with a wall full of windows and a new kitchen and new bath and lots of space; it was too good to pass up. I decided to give LIC a try. So far, I'm disappointed with the neighborhood for lots of reasons: overpriced bodegas, a far-away grocery store, 7 train service interruptions.
But things got worse tonight. I live in south LIC in a very industrial area and there are a lot of places that won't deliver here. But I have a few delivery options, which include: Domino's (nasty), Palace Fried Chicken (nasty), a couple of Chinese places in Sunnyside (often nasty), and Tuk-Tuk, which in my opinion is the best and least greasy option. I end up ordering their Thai food quite a lot.
Tonight I called for delivery and the woman taking my order got quiet when I gave my address. She paused and then asked what my cross street was. I told her and added that's it's not that far and they've delivered here before. Then she explained: Their delivery guy was recently mugged on my street. They took his money, his bike, and the food. And he's scared to deliver here now. Ah, Long Island City, I just love you more every day.

Yeah, Bridget Moynahan Totally Got Pregnant on Purpose 'Cause Everyone Knows Guys Dig Chicks Who 'Trap' Them

This article on ESPN.com pissed me off. As you know by now, Bridget Moynahan is three months pregnant with quarterback (pictured right, bending over some guy) Tom Brady's baby. They split two or three months ago, and Brady's dating this gal. OK, so the situation's dicey, but come on! Some quotes from writer Jemele Hill's column:
"And here Brady thought that late interception against the Colts in the AFC Championship Game was his biggest headache."
First of all, how irresponsible is it to refer to a baby as a "headache?" This child could read this someday and feel like total shit. At first I thought, Oh the guy writing this must be the biggest misogynist ever, but then to my surprise, I saw the byline said Jemele! A woman! I Googled her to make sure she wasn't a guy with some funky name, but no, she's a gal.
So then she goes on to discuss Matt Leinart, who also had a baby out of wedlock recently.
"And here's an observation that's worth noting about the Leinart and Brady baby situations: It's not just hoodrats and gold diggers who know how to execute a perfect trap."
"A perfect trap?!" I don't know anything about Leinart's lady, but I seriously doubt that Bridget felt so empty and lonely for Tom Brady that she "trapped" him with a child. She doesn't strike me as someone pathetic. Jemele refers to her biggest role as only Mr. Big's wife on "Sex & the City," but to me her acting credits are more impressive than some football career. Football: Who cares? [My male friend argues with this: "Tom Brady has two MVPs from two of his four Superbowl victories. He is wearing rings of the championship of the best game in the whole world. He is the best clutch quarterback (the key skill position) since Joe Montana, he is a nice guy from Michigan that was third string and came off the bench to become one of the greatest QBs of his generation." But I digress.]
Then, this line: "Welcome, Matt and Tom, to the world of outrageous child support payments. Welcome to being labeled contributors to the country's moral decay and growing out-of-wedlock birth rate."
What is this about moral decay and out-of-wedlock pregnancies? Maybe Jemele is being sarcastic here, but this is how a great number of Americans surely think. Britney Spears and K-Fed had children, and oh, I guess that's OK cause they were married. Let them drink to their hearts' content and smoke pot and shave their heads or whatever it is they do, but it's all right, they're married! But a seemingly responsible Bridget M. is pregnant, and well, fuck her, the kid's totally screwed cause she's single?
Seriously, she's 36 years old. Do you really think she's enough of an immature douchebag that she TRAPPED him? Everything from blog comments to Patriots fan sites have implied this, and it's terrible. She's the one lying low now and can't drink or smoke or prolly even have coffee and has to get fat, and Brady's out banging supermodels in Paris, but oh, yeah, poor fucking Brady.

Schlemeel, Schlemazel, Milwaukee Still Not 'It' City

Among Maisonneuve's Top 10 articles on its Web site is this little gem from 2005. It predicts the next "It" city. Where might that place be? That's right, folks. Milwaukee should have been totally hip by now. Alas, not so much. For a more true-to-life Maisonneuve Top 10 oldie, check out If Paris Hilton Wrote Poetry.

Foreign Lady Wants Castle Back, Blogger Showing Signs of Amnesia

There is a great article in the NY Times today about Princess Sophie von Hohenberg, the great-granddaughter of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, who is trying to reclaim Konopiste Castle, the family's former residence just south of Prague, Czech Republic. I am kind of obsessed with Eastern European history, and reading the article kind of screwed with my memory. Had I been to Konopiste? My memory's for shit sometimes, and I know that I've been to Prague Castle and the castle at Cesky Krumlov in Southern Bohemia (complete with bears in the moat!), but there's at least one more that I can't remember for the life of me. So I wasted an hour this morning Googling castles and trying to find something recognizable. It's awful, I think, that even as intelligent adults we forget some of the places we've been; and it's funny to think I could return someday to visit a place for the first time, only to realize that I've experienced it before. Anyhow, I decided the castle I visited definitely wasn't Konopiste. I discovered a photo of this town, however, which looks quite familiar and in whose main square I seem to recall a meal.

File Under: Oops-A-Daisy!

Perhaps they'll even name the child Daisy! Actress Bridget Moynahan and NE Patriots QB Tom Brady are expecting. This would be happier news for both if they hadn't broken up last year and if Brady hadn't started nailing Gisele Bundchen.

Perez Hilton
NY Post

America to NY Times Fashion & Style Section: Duh

"These days, more and more employees consume their lunches from the comforts of their cubicles." Here.
If you buy bottles at a club, you will be treated better. Also, the dude who tries to "lure in big spenders, massage their egos and coax them to keep spending" more on bottles is called a "bottle host." Clever. Here.
Sadly, America is still not comfortable with gay men, or auto mechanics, making out in public. Here.

The New York Times Fashion & Style Section

Hustle & Flow

There are plenty of ways to get free drinks in NYC. You can give someone your phone number, but then he might actually call you. You can check out myopenbar.com, but then you have to show up at a certain place at a certain time, usually for a one-hour slot. And by your fifth vodka tonic, the bartender's going to get pissed about those paltry one buck tips you left for the first two drinks but cleverly forgot as you got drunker and drunker. Wouldn't it be great if you could just cheat people into buying you drinks? That's right, get all Paul Newman on their asses and learn how to hustle.

Top Five Ways to Hustle Free Drinks
Via Fark

At Least She Never Screamed at Me For Using Wire Hangers

So, if your mother sends you, via UPS, a package that contains CortiSlim, "slimming" undergarments, $100 (thanks, mom!) and dog biscuits, what exactly does that mean?
Yes, just that: Your mother thinks you're a fat-ass. Although, I'm going to assume that the dog biscuits are for my cocker spaniel, not me.
For the record: You are a size 6 and you still love your mother.

Brother of New York Mag Writer Finds Sis' Work 'Probing' and 'Fascinating'

Do letters to the editor really count if they come from your family?
From the Feb. 19 issue of New York magazine: "Emily Nussbaum's 'Say Everything' [February 12] was probing and fascinating, and without the usual built-in sneer..."
Who's it signed by? Gabriel Nussbaum, Manhattan
If not a brother, a cousin? Second-cousin? Brother-in-law?
Also, Emily's mom tells her she's a beautiful girl and men are probably just intimidated by her.

Say Everything, NY Mag

Britney Goes Bald, I Start Blog, World Ends (Maybe)

Poor Ms. Spears decided to make the drapes match the carpet when she took a razor to her head sometime in the last 24 hours. I understand why Demi Moore went shiny for G.I. Jane, and Natalie Portman did it for V for Vendetta, and Sinead O'Connor shaved for religious reasons (I think), but Brit's clearly lost her marbles and gone cuckoo-crazy.
Unless it has something to do with honoring her aunt who died of breast cancer last month. But even that seems extreme. And creepy, now that she's dead and all.
Oh yeah, and this is my new blog. That is all.