“Just so everyone now knows the plan (took it awhile for it to form aka this morning) we are meeting tonight Tuesday 27th at 7:30 pm at ________________…”— email from bff slash fave mom-to-be regarding another friend’s birthday celebration… tonight. Yes. This is how we do ‘major event planning’. All aboard the Spontaneity Express.
Chances of partaking in any social outing tonight: Zero point Zero
On the bright side, I’m halfway through sale season, my mind is mostly intact (or at least in the same form as before this nonsense began) and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is apparently now available on Netflix Instant Movies.
For the past 2 weeks, I’ve been working on a pretty major acting/writing deadline (today), and so this excerpt from Sarah Silverman’s book The Bedwetter really resonated with me:
“What I have learned thus far in writing this book is that writing this book is a gigantic pain in the ass. I’ve quickly learned that the best way to write a book is to frequently stop writing your book and reward yourself for every tiny parcel of progress. Or if you’re not making any progress, stop and reward yourself for having tried. I like this system a lot because all day long I’m rewarding myself. I don’t know if it will lead to an actual book, but that’s not really what it’s about in the end, is it?
Here’s a short list of things I’ve done while not writing this book:
I Googled myself.
I took a deep post-Googling nap.
I bought vitamins that tell your brain when you are full.
I smoked pot to help the creative juices flow, which resulted in looking way too closely in the mirror, being disgusted, taking pictures of my breasts in awkward but flattering positions to e-mail to a manboy I’ve been seeing, mixing odd combinations of kitchen cabinet remnants and finding them “fucking unbelievably delicious” and then falling asleep, face unwashed.”
It’s official. This woman is my soul mate. Yes to all of the above.
We get nearly as many emails from women as we do from men at Put This On. We are more than happy to have lady readers (hi lady readers!), and we only feel bad that we can’t recommend a lady version of our blog (sorry lady readers!). When these ladies ask questions on behalf of their boyfriends,…
Ok, I know I have been ranting a lot lately, but this needs to be said:
Stop putting things in my damn sweet tea.
It’s hard enough to find sweet tea in DC as it is, and usually when you ask they say “well we don’t have that, but we do have peach/raspberry tea”
DONT PUT GODDAMN PEACH FLAVORING IN MY TEA
If I wanted to drink some kool-aid, I would order a fucking kool-aid.
Tea is subtle and delicious, and doesn’t deserve to be tainted by strong fruit flavors [excuse me, but it tastes like someone peed a jolly rancher in my glass].
This goes for hot tea as well. I appreciate your attempt to make oolong even more ‘Asian’ than before, but I don’t want ginger and lychee in it. I also object to titling things ‘Asian’. Like ‘Asian Salad’. Wow, it has baby corn in it, and some sort of crispy noodles and sesame/ginger infusion bullshit. It’s a whole continent, folks. Russia, India, and the Middle East Included. That’s for another rant.
Anyway, if I order a sweet tea, it shouldn’t be like pancake syrup sweet, but it should definitely wake me up. It should be fresh brewed. It shouldn’t be ‘nestea’ [in the south, we call it ‘nas-tea’]. And it sure as hell better not have additional fruit flavors in it.
Get that weak-ass kool-aid shit out of my face, yankee.
“Turn on the television. We have a wedding channel on cable TV devoted to the behavior of people on the way to the altar. They spend billions of dollars, behave in the most appalling way, all in an effort to be princess for a day. You don’t have cable television? Put on network TV. We’re giving away husbands on a game show. You can watch The Bachelor, where thirty desperate women will compete to marry a 40-year-old man who has never been able to maintain a decent relationship in his life. That’s what we’ve done to marriage in America, where young women are socialized from the time they’re five years old to think of being nothing but a bride. They plan every day what they’ll wear, how they’ll look, the invitations, the whole bit, they don’t spend five minutes thinking about what it means to be a wife. People stand up there before god and man even in Senator Diaz’s church, they swear to love honor and obey, they don’t mean a word of it. So if there’s anything wrong with the sanctity of marriage in America, it comes from those of us who have the privilege and the right and have abused it for decades.”—Diane Savino, NY State Senator (via gayformarriage) (via soupsoup)