Que Sera Sera

Text messages saved in my phone, vol. 8

(Vol. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 )

I sleep with so many dudes with weird chins. Clefts, dimples, you name it, I bang it.

There’s a woman wearing a banana clip on the train; she’s not foreign or anything.

Wait, are you on your date?! Stop texting me about your ex-husband’s dick!

I hate art

Carrie White burns in hell

We were at the symphony and everyone was talking about how you had a 3-way with a hooker.

Hello from america’s drug superhighway!

Just hangin out! Thug love!

When something is numbed with novacaine (like my entire top lip right now), I think it should also become invisible.

Balls in YOUR mouth, sir!

Newsflash: the gravity pub patched up the glory hole and the bouncer that doesn’t like my panties is eyeing me.

I’ll throw away my chastity belt too.

Who was him?

Don’t bother with your French braids

I’m babysitting. I just wrestled an asian kid my weight and ignited a thousand pubescent masturbatory handjobs. In a wig.

Did you ever have a touch to lose?

Yes! Cocteau twins and endless carbs!

I saw that and worse at Normandy!

Ah don’t want
Your life

Is it J.R. Ewing’s face?


Just so you know, I have mastered flushing the toilet.

I wish you and me and Mary J. Blige were spending NYE together.

Too late, I’m in love

Who needs pants?

I hope you are making out, and not with a murderer.

Does he have a mist machine?

Holy shit. That’s so romanti2.

That would make for a great sporting show – Kayaking with Shiteater

Sad, de moi.

Just the near death of my respect for humankind

It’s been determined that a group of uteruses (uteri) is called a hysteria.

I bet he went to Sarah Lawrence.

I thought it tasted a little date rapey

What’s cathy’s husband’s name?


Cthulu belongs to us all, like Santa Claus

Also rolfdong sounds like a fragrance for men.

Just had a guy get a sextuple espresso mocha. I highfived him.

On top of this, they can’t even serve a half decent cup of chili in this town.

It’s worse than orphans!

Thanks, I would ask you for toilet paper over Alicia Keyes.

Fuck bitches, make money: I always say that.

Everyone here looks the same. I want to go home.

Lady elves.

Diversify yo!

Pressing issues.

I don’t watch The Hills but I do read Us Weekly and what the hell is wrong with the brunette? In every picture I’ve ever seen of her, she’s looking up while everyone else looks forward. Is she blind? Is she a sandwich job? It’s 2:05 am and I need answers.

President's Day on the Radio

I’m going to observe President’s Day this year by going to the Fraunces Tavern Museum with Chris and Tracie to see George Washington’s teeth, and then going on Aaron McQuade’s Sirius radio show "Blog Bunker" with Blaise K. to talk about my blog and stuff.

I used to grit my teeth at that sort of thing— blogs, my blog, talking about my blog—but now that my blog has changed my life and given me my dream job, it seems a little ungracious to keep up that line of thinking, so I’m trying to embrace it. Come, hear me try to embrace it!

If you’d like to listen, we’ll be on Sirius Indie 110 starting at 4:00 EST. You can sign up for a free 3-day trial to listen online.

Also, you won’t be able to hear it, but I will be wearing my Abraham Lincoln locket in honor of the holiday. Did you know that I’m single? What? I know!

SF in love

I spent last weekend in my favorite U.S. city, visiting my favorite U.S. baby. I guess I should say my favorite U.S. one year old, since he’s now an elder statesman and I do know a lot of really stellar babies, but man, Hank Mason seems to be made out of perfect. I heard him cry only once, for about fifteen seconds, after he bumped his head. Anyway, some of my favorite ladies were present as well, and it was so nice to be somewhere sunny and warm where all I had to do was eat and drink and talk and let Maggie tell me what clothes I should try on at Anthropologie and which of her clothes she was giving me when it was dress-up/give-away time (total score: this awesome dress).

Every time I go to San Francisco, I feel guilty for not missing New York, not even a little bit. I love New York, and my life and career and a lot of my people are in New York, but I love San Francisco too. San Francisco smells good. Your food tastes better there. People on the street look more relaxed and happy, and they wear brighter colors. They smile more. Of course, a lot of why I chose New York was because I like its vibe, I like its autumn, I even like its winter. But on Sunday, while we we stood in the sun waiting for our table and people-watching, I could not get over how everyone walking down the street looked like they were starring in a music video. To an upbeat love song. I could go for a little more of that.

Adult supervision

This week I’ve learned that the answer to the question “how many times can a person accidentally superglue her fingers together” can be found without really even trying.

February Cringe

The first Cringe of 2008 is tomorrow, with a great line up, including how to smoke clove cigarettes on your high school exchange trip to France, and a Cringe first: an audio/visual reading with original comic book artwork. No napping or passing notes while the projector screen is up and the lights are off, people.

A reminder: seats have been filling up by or before 8, so get there early if you don’t want to stand in the back. You still might have to stand in the back. I’m sorry.

Also, I updated the Cringe page with some new info as well as a list of upcoming shows, since the date has been jumping around a bit lately and I feel bad that some people have missed it. (This month’s show is the first Wednesday, like it’s supposed to be, but the March show is the second Wednesday, because I have Jonathan Richman tickets for the first.)

See you tomorrow night!

Funny people reading from their old diaries, letters, songs, poems, and other general representations of the crushing misery of their humiliating adolescence, but it’s okay because they’re totally cool and well-adjusted and super attractive now:

Cringe Reading Night
Wednesday, February 6, 8:30 pm
Freddy’s Bar & Backroom
485 Dean Street (6th Ave. & Dean), Brooklyn
2/3 to Bergen, any train to Atlantic/Pacific
More directions
Cost: as always, free dollars

Copyright © 2001–2012 by sb
Powered by Movable Type