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May 31, 2005
One hour of babble from the man at the top
This is by no means a unique observation, but I just finished listening to the President speak and, I swear to God, I could not understand a single sentence coming out of his mouth. No wonder the rest of the world hates the U.S. -- if I had to listen to and interpret that stutter for the better of my people, I'd be livid, too.
posted by jessica at 11:35 AM | Comments (0)
May 26, 2005
Overheard: Best American Idol Commentary Ever
"I wonder what Ryan Seacrest thinks about at night. You know? Like, what sort of self-loathing does he go through, what sort of therapy is he getting? Just an average night, it's 2 AM, he can't sleep... What's going through his head?"
posted by jessica at 07:58 AM | Comments (0)
May 25, 2005
I screw up a lot.
Obviously, the above post was meant for this here personal site, but I have too many things on my desktop and am a sloppy fuckwit. As such, I posted it to that other site I write. If you were one of the lucky few who caught it on the gawk during the 2 minutes it took for me to figure out my own conspicuous idiocy, I hope you enjoyed the track. Please don't tell the feds.
posted by jessica at 07:50 PM | Comments (0)
May 23, 2005
Because you've been wondering since last Thursday...
The freaky-sad robotic funeral music from the season finale of The OC is "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. Now go download it and remember that Kiki is hurting, Marissa is bleeding, and Newport is burning.
posted by jessica at 02:34 PM | Comments (0)
Never reflect on life choices before coffee
I realized this morning that, one year ago this week, Choire first sent me an IM -- pretty much out of the blue -- with a job offer. Weird. And thus my brain matter began its downward spiral.
So it's my secret anniversary of choosing the path of a common street whore. Send me gifts!
posted by jessica at 07:58 AM | Comments (0)
May 20, 2005
Deconstructing Blogebrity
Hi, everyone, I'd like to introduce you the load of genius behind Blogebrity since, you know, normally venerable folks like Glenn Reynolds are even linking to this odd site. Blogebrity poses as a "blogger gossip" page, which smartly creates a blogger hierarchy and has everyone all pissy and intrigued. (Thank you God, for keeping me on the A-List. One day at a time.)
Sure, we all think this stupid "blogger chronicle" is retarded but, well, you're paying attention -- which means the person behind the site (research suggests the folks at ToGawp) isn't as stupid as you think. You see, by visiting and linking to Blogebrity, you're helping them to win a contest based on traffic and linkage for a new site launched on the contest's start date (May 19th):
$2000 Grand Prize The entry that receives the most unique visitors during the contest time period will be awarded the $2000 grand prize. Traffic statistics will be based on the server logs of the official contagious media showdown server.
$1000 Technorati Prize The entry that receives the most blog links during the contest time period will be awarded the $1000 Technorati Prize. Link statistics will be determined by the number of blog links pointing to the entry on June 9th as recorded by Technorati.
And? Right now, as an official contestant, Blogebrity is in second place. After all, this person is writing about blog stuff, and bloggers love blog gossip. Genius! What's more, the contest is part of Eyebeam's ongoing art projects, so while the prizes may (or may not) be real, the contest itself is art, and we're on display.
Making money off of our own self-absorption. Kinda brilliant, no?
posted by jessica at 11:39 AM | Comments (0)
He then spit tobacco into a can and plucked a piece of straw from his ass.
"She moves like a damn deer. I had a heck of a time trying to catch her," said Jess Weaks, the ranch caretaker. "She's pretty ornery, that's for sure."
posted by jessica at 09:29 AM | Comments (0)
May 18, 2005
I've given this far too much thought.
Spam -- the bane of my mostly email-based existence -- simultaneously fascinates and infuriates me. I use Thunderbird for my mail, so I have a decent junk filter, but I can't really be bothered with Spam Arrest or whatnot for general Gawker mail (so unless you've got a Holy Grail of filters, I've already tried it). And oh, the Gawker mail, how it comes in torrents...
Anyhow, back to the Spam. It comes in thematic waves. It's as if the little SpamBots all read the same SpamBot magazine and adhere to a specific SpamTrend so that they'll all fit in and be accepted into the cool SpamCliques.
Okay, maybe I ran a little far with that. But, you know. And right now, the hot SpamTrend is totally German. Every morning, I have a hundred gleaming new messages with subject lines like, "Graeberschaendung auf bundesdeutsche Anordnung" or "Du wirst zum Sklaven gemacht!!!" If it weren't so damn annoying, it'd be kind of awesome, like the Epcot Center.
The Germanic SpamTrend, like all SpamTrends, will pass -- but remnants of its glory days will continue to pop up in my box, just as I still get emails (albeit less frequently) from random people needing my financial assistance, young Julie, whose site is finally up and would love to chat (she's got a webstream, too), and random Anime schoolgirls who love bukkake and want to sell me a cheap Rolex.
posted by jessica at 09:04 AM | Comments (0)
May 07, 2005
Great Moments In Irony
The first in a series:
During a late-night dinner at Cafeteria, the flannel-clad man sporting a mullet refers to something as "white trash."
posted by jessica at 07:12 PM | Comments (0)
May 04, 2005
There was once a time when I used this space to write about things like music.
Aimee Mann's latest, The Forgotten Arm, came out yesterday and, being quite the Mannthusiast, I just defied my policy of pro-MP3 piracy and downloaded the album. (iTunes is so damn dangerous. Yes, I know you already figured that out, like, 5 years ago. But I'm going to reiterate.)
The verdict: It's like Elton John wrote a concept album while wearing a cowboy hat, and it's lovely. I feel slightly like Bridget Jones when I listen to it, but not in a bad way. I don't think, anyhow.
posted by jessica at 09:30 AM | Comments (0)
May 03, 2005
Analyzing My Epidermis
Few things produce such joy as the post-sunburn peel. Popping a zit is satisfying, sure, but it's no match to slowly pulling a sheet of dead skin off of your forearm. And yes, I'm a sick little fuck.
But there's a dark side: There may be nothing more frustrating than a perfect peeling opportunity smack in the middle of that unreachable spot on your back. You can see the frayed edges begging for your hand, but you'll never be able to touch them. Torture doesn't quite cover it.
posted by jessica at 01:51 PM | Comments (0)
