Thursday, December 30, 2004

I am a pilgrim on the edge
On the edge of my perception
We are travelers at the edge
We are always at the edge of our perceptions

If I made that up would you think I was super smart?

My uncle made that. The picture and the lyric. he thinks I am smarter than him.


The guy that made Donnie Darko credited him for inspiring one of the scenes in the movie. How cool is that???? So cool.

Even though Donnie Darko isn't my favorite movie any more because last night I watched City of God, and it was fucking spectacular.

the slander blog

Yes, I am aware that when slander occurs on a blog it is technically libel, but I DON'T CARE.

Okay, I've been reading this blog and this dude always comments on it. I usually want to ridicule his comments but I don't because I'm trying not to be so fucking rude.

I'm pretty sure he doesn't read this, so I think this will be okay.

He is in love with her. One time he was reading her blog when he was drunk and he got pissed about something or other and he left a comment which might have been mean, or it might just have not made any sense. And then he left another one saying he was drunk and sorry. And then he left one correcting her grammar. Like he's trying to foster an abusive relationship with her over the internet.

I wish this guy had his own blog because I bet it would be fucking hilarious.

I almost just emailed this girl whose blog I read who I've never met to ask her if she shouldn't stop putting pictures up on there because he might be printing them out and putting them in frames and sitting them on his desk at work and telling people she is his fiancee. But then I wondered how you email someone about their maybe stalker without it seeming like maybe it's you that is the stalker.

Anonymous weird commenter: If you are reading this, I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings. But I'm not sorry for saying that you're weird because I think you are weird. Yes, I know you don't really have a picture of her on your desk. It's called hyperbole.

It's not slander if it's true.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

first ODB and now this???

oh jerry!

You were so much better on Law and Order than annoying ass Dennis Farina.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

through thick and thin, bitch!!!

Um, who are you? You are not Tony Kukoch.

Chicago Bulls: Through Thick and Thin

That's an interesting advertising ploy. Reminding people that they are fair weather fans who watched every bulls game since 1990 and put lucky charms on the tv and screamed at it and then in 1998 when Ron Harper was the only one left they turned off the tv and now if they watched a game they wouldn't even know what to scream because they don't know any of the players.

Why aren't Bulls fans more like Cubs fans, who will never fall off, no matter how consistently the cubs suck and no matter how drunk they have to be to enjoy the game. They will be cheering the Cubs as Wrigley Field crumbles down around them.

If the Bulls beat the Nets tonight, I'll watch the next game.

Monday, December 27, 2004

I'm sorry 2004

Working at a gas station is not fun and games for everyone. That's why I don't work there anymore. I didn't want to turn into Vickie.

When it's you are working at a gas station with all your friends taking it less seriously than, um, something you don't take very seriously at all, and you meet the new morning person and she is old enough to be your mom's older sister, you are like what the fuck?

And when you find out that she commutes from fucking Wisconsin to Dekalb Illinois to work at a gas station, you are like what the fucking fuckity fuck?????

You only have to work with this lady a few times since she's on the morning shift, but still it is so god damn annoying because she doesn't steal anything and she's nice to all the customers. geesh.

Good Riddance, she moves to Peoria. bye bye!

What's this, a few months later a fat envelope arrives at the gas station! Holiday wishes from Vickie, handwritten on that yellow lined paper, like you used to write rough drafts on in grade school. What is this four page letter she has written us?

So not funny it's funny. It's one of those things where you're laughing even though you're pretty sure you should be crying, but then you just laugh harder. Sort of like this. Or this.

So she moved to Peoria and got a job working the graveyard shift at some hospital. So far so good!! Her daughter gave birth to a perfectly healthy illegitimate bastard child!! Okay!

Uh oh, what's this. One morning Vickie woke up and her husband was unresponsive. Too bad she couldn't roll the fat fucker over to preform CPR!!

Why she wrote a letter mourning her husbands demise to a bunch of fucks working at a gas station, I have no idea.

Any way, Merry Christmas Vickie, wherever you are, and I'm sorry I laughed at your letter.

Sunday, December 26, 2004

merry christmas slut

I was mad at my brother because he's had a cell phone for 3 days and he didn't call me and give me the number.

So I made him drink some beers with me. Okay, he drank some beers, I drank some vodka out of a glass.

Then I programed my number into his phone, and I took a picture of myself where there is light coming out from behind me and I look like God or something, and I set it up so when I call him my picture will flash and it will go "Hello Moto!!" The stupid motorola ring tone which I find totally hilarious.

Then we went to a party and I made him pretend we were fraternal twins.

His girlfriend drove us to the party, and she gave me a glass that said "Smart Women Thirst For Knowledge" on it, and some gum that had pictures of raw meat on the package. It made me think I like her alot, even though I used to be like, god, she's kind of annoyingly bubbly. So, I guess I can be bought.

But then I found out that she kissed some 32 year old dude that works at Whole Foods. Yeah, she went over to his apartment and he made her dinner, and then they made out.

That's a date right? I mean, one time I made Ethan a steak for his birthday because his parents didn't love him, but we didn't make out afterwards. Anyway, she said it wasn't a date.

So I guess my brother was okay with it, but then she went and saw a movie with the guy like 2 days later. Which also wasn't a date she said. Because they didn't even hold hands. What The Fuck???

Merry Christmas Eric!!

I hope you new iPod wil ease the pain of finding out that your girlfriend is a slutty little bitch!

Thursday, December 23, 2004

im half jewish and i can't even spell channuka

I just finished my christmas shopping. Actually I just started it, and then I finished it like 45 minutes later. Because I am a superstar.

Luckily I work downtown, so I can leave and do my Christmas shopping, and it's like I'm getting paid to do it. Then it's like a game to sneak back in without anybody noticing I'm trying to hide 10 shopping bags behind my scarf.

Personally, I think I give the best presents. But I was thinking about it, and really I wonder if I'm actually just give people presents that I would want for myself. Because those are only good presents for people who are just like me.

Like, last year I gave my brother the book "The Rules of Attraction" and also the dvd. I later found out that the movie sucked, but I still think it was a cool idea. Except I'm not sure if my brother even knows how to read.

So this year I got him a polo shirt. Because he likes to wear seventies style polo shirts, and I like to call him Eric Forman, so now he can have another polo shirt that I can make fun of. See, everyone wins.

I think my parents are going to get me a book about Gandhi. And my brother will get me "Coffee and Cigarettes."

I got an A in psychometrics this semester which means I am now a master statistician. Plus I can also read minds, so I am going to put that in a 95 percent confidence interval, or something.

I'm listening to madvillainy and although I've listened to it ten thousand times before, it sounds completey different in my cubicle for some reason. Interesting. If you don't have the cd, you should ask santa for it for christmas. It's not too late. Unless you're jewish. Then it is too late.



Wednesday, December 22, 2004

girl, you know it's true

Oh my god, you will not believe who I saw on the train. Milli Vanilli!!! I don't know if it was Rob or Fab, probably the one who isn' t dead. The best part is, brace yourselves y'all, I think he might be my neighboor.

Remember on 9/11 when Dick Cheney was swooped into a secret underground cave with his secret shadow government? Man, being Dick Cheney must be just like being a super hero.

What if the Dick Cheney we know and love is just a decoy, and the real Dick is still in the bat cave except he's grown into an enormous mass of hideous white flesh. Like Jabba the Hut, but whiter and softer and meaner.


Tuesday, December 21, 2004

let's don't wait til the water runs dry...

Last night I saw the fucking funniest thing of my life.

I don't think words can do it justice.

If you found a 10 year old video featuring your sister's ex boyfriend sitting on his waterbed with a blanket with a picture of a unicorn on it talking about prom 94 (Prom '94, man!) while Boys II Men played in the background wouldn't you show it to all your friends?

A fucking four star film if I've ever seen one.

I think we all know the moral of this story.


Monday, December 20, 2004

this could be you

Are you one of those people that only calls me on the phone when you want to tell me about how you got a really great new pair of boots on sale, and after you bore the shit out me explaining it you are like "Peace," and then I am listening to the dial tone like "Wait, isn't it my turn to talk now?"

If this is not you, but you also know this person, here's a tip: It helps if you are playing tetris during this time. That way you can sit through the entire soliloquy and pretend like you give a shit without wanting to blow your brains out. And don't worry, the person on the other side of the phone is so self absorbed there is no way she will notice the little beep boop bop beep, so you don't even have to turn the sound down.

First you try to tell them about the job you applied for, a couple weeks later they cut you off in the middle of your story about your awesome second interview, and the next thing you know a month has gone by and they are acting all surprised, like "You bitch, why didn't you tell me you had a new job!!"

Um, are the things I have to say so incredibly boring that a person can not stand to hear them? Because they couldn't possibly be any more boring than hearing about the fucking fabulous deals at the outlet mall or the stupid asinine reason you are fighting with your friend from work, who by the way is totally lame.

I wonder what would happen if while she was talking I just started screaming at the top of my lungs. Would she just keep on talking? This could be my chance to have my moment of complete social retardation, just to see what kind of reaction I can get.


Sunday, December 19, 2004


I used to work at a gas station and it was the best job ever.

We sat on the counters and smoked and played air hockey and rummy and looked at porn and ate candy and fucked with the customers.

I wanted to keep a camera under the counter so that I could take pictures of the customers when they got pissed. Because I have never seen people so pissed as when they encounter me at a gas station.

Wheezing, vein bulging out of the head, screaming and spitting pissed.

It's like something about the flourescent lights and the smell of gasoline and the sight of me not wearing my designated uniform causes them to go completely crazy bat shit insane.

So anyway, if you work at a gas station and have a tendency for inspiring absolute hatred in people, and you can somehow take a picture of them at their most enraged without them jumping over the counter and smashing your camera against their foreheads, and you want to compile these photos into a book, I will totally buy your book.



I just watched a documentary about Amish kids gone wild. Here's what I learned:

1. Amish kids love smoking cigarettes.
2. Just because you are Amish doesn't mean that you can't be a crystal freak.


Friday, December 17, 2004

what is wrong with me?

Today when I was walking to work some ugly homeless woman opened her mouth, not to ask me for money, but to call me a bitch. But the best part was that she said it in this robotic ass voice that sounded like she was shreiking through a trachectomy or whatever.

I thought about kicking her in the teeth for a minute, Patrick Bateman style.

Oh my god, what is wrong with me.

When I was little my parents took me to the veterens hospital to visit my grandfather. There were old men shuffling around in bathrobes and worn slippers, or sitting in wheel chairs, slack jawed. My mom was carrying me and one of the men reached for me and cried out. I was terrified and I burst into tears.

Maybe I reminded him of his daughter. Maybe he wanted to say "What a beautiful little girl!" but his brain was so ravaged by disease he had lost the ability to vocalise his thoughts without sounding like a monster that scares children.

When I think about it now it breaks my heart.

So how come when I walked past this homeless woman I felt nothing but superiority over her? Has my heart shriveled up and died?


Thursday, December 16, 2004

I'm searching for the funniest guy in Chicago

I'm jealous of Jessica Seinfeld.

I want to date a hilarious guy. I mean a guy who is so fucking funny that he takes me on a date to a really nice restaurant and makes me laugh so hard I squirt perrier out of my nose and get it all over my nice expensive dress that I bought just for the occasion, and I won't even care.

I don't even care if the guy is fat and wears the same dirty hoodie every day. I don't even care if he hates my dogs. I don't even care if he's a guy. Sarah Silverman would be great.

David Rees would be good too. Maybe he would make me a card on Valentines day with little office people on it. But he lives in New York.

Nathan Alexander would also do. We would watch tv together and make fun of everything. Plus he's Jewish, so my mom would like that. But one day I would be telling him how much I love the virgin mobile commercials, you know, the ones with the super cool old people who are like "where you at?" and he would lose respect for me. Plus he lives in LA.

So if anyone knows the funniest person in Chicago, please let me know who it is so I can stalk them. Thanks.


Wednesday, December 15, 2004

7 deadly sins version 2.0

I hate the 7 deadly sins.

First of all, they're stupid (see previous post).

Second of all, why are they called deadly ? As far as I can tell they won't necessarily kill you, althought they will cause you eternal torment in hell.

Third, maybe it's because I'm a capitalist, but I think that envy and pride are actually productive. And I'm not sure why gluttony and lust are on there, but then things like deceit and willfull ignorance are not.

I was going to design version 2.0 of the 7 deadly sins on my own, but then I found out that there is actually an update available, so here it is, created by Gandhi:

Wealth without work
Pleasure without conscience
Science without humanity
Knowledge without character
Politics without principle
Commerce without morality
Worship without sacrifice
I just want you guys to know that while I was typing that it blew my mind a little bit, and I thought that this was so excellent that I'd like to print it up on a banner and hang it in my room, or maybe tattoo it on my body, and I thought about going back and deleting the shout out to Gandhi because then everyone would think that I was the god damned smartest person in the world. But I think that might have demonstrated knowledge without character, so I decided against it.
I think I just found religion.


Monday, December 13, 2004

seven deadly sins

I've been thinking about the seven deadly sins, and I've decided they're stupid.

Lust. Everyone does this. It's necessary for propogation of the species. I guess you can avoid this sin by wearing an undershirt made of stinging nettles or hitting yourself with a spiky club every time you feel desire. Like I said, stupid.

Wrath. I'm not even sure what that is. Is it like when you get mad at someone and break all their toys? Or when you get mad at the Pharoah for enslaving your chosen people and storm throughout the land killing every first born son? Bad God.

Gluttony. Does this only count for food? Because if not, isn't it just the same thing as lust? I guess it isn't becaus while gluttons will be forced to eat rats, snakes, and toads in hell, lusters will be smothered in fire and brimstone.

Sloth and Greed. So I guess greed is the desire for material wealth or gain, and sloth is avoidance of work. Um, the way I see it if you're not desiring material wealth, you're probably slovenly. Luckily I don't think you can be both at once.

Pride. Excessive belief in one's own abilities that interferes with the individual's recognition of the grace of God. Hm. I thought I was supposed to take pride in my accomplishments. Did my elementary school teachers not know that their little self-esteem building workshops were going to result in my being broken on the wheel for all of eternity?Damn!

Envy. Envy is the desire for what others have, I guess. So I guess, if you don't have it, you shouldn't want it or try to get it. Except that makes no sense to me.

Actually none of these make any sense to me.



So it's my birthday. I'm 25.

Birthdays are funny. Last year I spent my birthday in Connecticut, I guess on a business trip. It was kind of fun, I had a really nice hotel room. Except the night before I got really drunk, and was so hungover on the plane that I thought I might die.

Then I had to conduct an assessment center for fire fighters.


Guess what I'm doing this year on my birthday? Studying for a psychometrics exam!

Super Awesome!

But the best thing about birthdays, besides being taken out to eat at fabulous restaurants and getting spectacular gifts, such as round trip airfaire to Europe (thanks mom and dad!) is that you get to see which friends of yours are actually dumb enough to not call you on your birthday and still think they are getting a Christmas present!



Yay, happy birthday!

Last night my parents took me to Japonais. It was excellent.

We had lobster spring rolls and this thing called Ceviche which were both excellent, and my mom and I had floating orchids, vodka drinks with pear juice and an orchid floating in it.

I had octopus rolls, squid tempura rolls, and softshell crab rolls with crispy crab peices on top of them. Everything was delicious.

The restaurant was also beautiful, and the service was excellent.

They also brought me a little cake at the end with a sparkler in it.

Four stars.


Friday, December 10, 2004

ρxx' = [Nρxx’]/[1 + (N-1) ρxx’

Bruce thinks I'm too smart to believe what I wrote here.

Well Bruce, I'm glad you think I'm smart, but I still believe it.

It's not that I think that people can't distinguish themselves from one another.

But yes, I do think that we are no where near as distinct from one another as the American egoists in us want to be.

Have you ever heard of the Spearman Brown prophecy forumula? It's called that because it was developed independantly by Spearman and Brown in the same year (1910). Like, they didn't know each other, and they came up with the same formula at the same time. Wow.

I bet those guys worked on that formula for months if not years, and I bet each of them thought they were sooooo clever. But neither of them were any more clever than the other.

That's what I'm trying to say.

Does this make any sense to anyone besides me?


tis the season

Am I supposed to be upset about the blatant commercialism of Christmas? Because I love it.

I really could not give a fuck about Jesus right now.

In Chicago, it's fucking cold. And it gets dark at like 3:00.

It makes me want to kill myself.

If everything wasn't shimmering with little white lights, Chicago in December would be as ugly as, um, Chicago in February.

If I didn't have a tree in my living room, I might not see anything green for 6 months. If I wasn't distracted by sparkly things, I might be laying on the floor crying and wondering when I will see the sun again.

Fuck you Persephone! Do you think you could have demonstated a little more restraint with that pomegranate??

Ladies. When in doubt, don't eat the fruit. You're ruining it for everyone.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

I love Miette

Sorry Raymi, dogs are better than cats.

They won't crawl on your head while you are sleeping and try to suffocate you and give you an asthma attack.

When your dog is barking ferociously you can tell her to SHUT UP, or you can just go with it and let her scare off the crazy shopping cart man that has been yelling up and down your block.

While your cat pisses and shits in the house.


Wednesday, December 08, 2004

average me

I'm one of those girls that looks like pretty much everybody else. People always think they've seen me somewhere before. They ask me if I work at Banana Republic or if I have a sister.

Sometimes when I run into people I haven't seen for a few years I pretend I'm not who they think I am.

I just realized that not only is my face not uniquely my own, neither are my thoughts.

Paige also thinks boys are the new girls.

Ron also muses on middle school lads seducing their hott teachers.

Gawker also refers to ouroboros.

Sometimes I think I'm going crazy because I feel this urge to do really inappropriate things. I'll be in a meeting and I'll think "What if I started bleating like a goat right now, like that kid from 'The Infinite Jest' did in his interview with the dean?" Then I'll get scared that I'm actually going to do it.

Well, it turns out that even that is unextrodinary. My roommate has the same type of thing, and I guess so does Jerry Seinfield. Yeah, he was talking about it on David Lettermen. How every time he gets a knife in his hand he's thinks he might suddenly start stabbing people with it or something.

It's like when you're little and you put your hand in the fan, even though you didn't want to. I just kind of thought everybody else grew out of it.

You know in American Beauty when Mena Suvari says "There's nothing worse than being ordinary"?

As much as we don't want to be, we're all the same.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004


Holy Shit! Ice "Cop Killa" T was just fucking killed while playing the role of a cop. (On Law & Order)

And so it has come full circle. If only he had actually become a cop and then been killed in real life I think my brain would have fucking imploded into itself.

Oops, false alarm, It looks like he's gonna pull through, thanks to Mariska Hargitay. The universe is safe for tonight.

shake your money maker

Eighties fever is at an all time high. Last time I was at Target I saw some thing I haven't seen for years. Care bears. And cabbage patch kids. And my little ponies.

I read an article in Vogue about slouchy boots and realized every one is feeling a little nostalgic. Even Belle and Sebastian and Dangermouse miss Nickelodeon.

Can you really make an album with the word "ghetto" in the title if you grew up watching British cartoons on a premium cable network?

This 80s revival has been going on for a while and I'm going to cash in on it. I'm opening a roller skating rink. It will serve alcohol and be open until 4:00 am on the weekends. In other words, it will be a club, except instead of dancing, people will be rollerskating.

Can I get Boy George to spin there? Fantastic Plastic Machine?

Can I project Unico onto an entire wall?

Sure I can! And it will be fucking fabulous!


Sunday, December 05, 2004

public service announcement

Dan and Lisa

This is your brain on drugs.

You know that Sopranos episode where Christopher is all doped up and he passes out on top of Adriana's dog and kills it?

If you're boyfriend is not nodding off on your lap dog, he will be suffacating your hedgehog to death. The hedgehog will be foaming at the mouth, and he will blame it on you. She must have gotten into your valium, he'll say.

The hedgehog will die. You'll scream at each other.

Deep down he will know it was his fault. He will be wracked with guilt. He will refuse to dispose of her in the dumpster.

You can understand that. When you were little you buried goldfish and anoles in your back yard.

But you never cremated a hedgehog.

Kids, this is what drugs will do to your life.

You will end up sitting in the parking lot, cremating your hedgehog on a $20 grill from Walmart.

It will take about 5 hours. You might fall asleep against the tire of someones car for a little while.

Your crack whore boyfriend will wake you up and tell you that you are not being respectful of the spirit of your hedgehog that he killed.

It will smell terrible.

By the time she is reduced to ashes, it will be morning. As you walk to the river to dump the ashes, all the fresh faced students will be on their way to class. With their backpacks and laptops. And you'll look strung out, carrying a thermos of cremated hedgehog.

When your boyfriend leans over to dump the ashes into the river he will trip, spilling the remains all over his shirt, and while later it will be fucking hilarious, at that moment it will be tragic. And you will swear that you will never tell anyone about this.

Except later you will tell your best friend and she will write about it on her blog.

Friday, December 03, 2004


My mom says I shouldn't hate.

Websters defines hate as a feeling of hostility or animosity, dislike or distaste.

The problem is, I like disliking stuff. Is the hate that I feel canceled out by the joy that it brings me?

My mom hates. Like, my apartment is surrounded by churches. The fuckers flock here on Sunday, and they double park up and down the street. So I thought it might be funny if there was a fire and they all died. Because the fire truck wouldn't be able to get down the street because of their asinine parking behavior. Irony is funny, right? Well, I guess my mom doesn't think so. She's a social worker. "What the hell is wrong with my daughter?" She is probably thinking. She hated that.

She also hates eggs.

So is it okay that I hate ketchup then? And vacuuming? Yeah? Okay then.

Can I hate on people? No? Not even that guy that broke my nose? Seriously? Can I hate the president? The vice president? Hitler?

And if I go to hell for hating stuff, and fucking child rapists can say they're sorry and get into heaven, then I'm going to hate god.

Yeah! I said it!

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

no family resemblence

Aw, look at my little brother Eric! We're so cute! And just when you thought we couldn't get any cuter, you realize that our names are Erin and Eric! But our middle names are Gaia and Asher, so it's not like my parents were totally uncreative.

If you wondered why it looks like I'm glowing, it's because my skin is actually that white. Look, I'm casting a glare on my brother! It's really not fair that my brother has a glorious year round tan while I am as white as a piece of paper. I mean, look how white my face is, and that actually sees the light of day. Imagine my legs. I can blind people with them.

I've always been jealous of those families where everybody looks alike. I don't look the slightest bit like anyone in my family.

Oh, and don't worry, I'm not an "eternal child," this picture was taken on halloween. Maybe I'll send this picture to that Peter Pan guy so he can put it on his website. Except someone I know might wander to that website and think I was a freak. Would that be hilarious or totally embarrasing? I can't decide.
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