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July 30, 2003
Batgirl's got a voice like melted butter on pancakes
Despite her sizzling hipster image, there are plenty of things that qualify Girl-E for platinum-level membership in the International Society of Total Dorks. She was on her high school academic bowl team. She can analyze most situations in the context of a Monty Python skit. She has two Ivy League degrees. She can explain the proper use of the subjunctive. Singing the Brahms Requiem once nearly brought her to orgasm. The list goes on. But one area of dorkdom to which she has given no attention is the vast universe of computer and video games. She wouldn't know a Sim if it ran her over in its teeny tiny car, and she thinks PCGaming is a vegan hunting magazine.
However, those days may very well be over.
THE REST OF THIS ENTRY, REGARDING A VERY FUN PRODUCT TESTING, HAS BEEN DESTROYED BECAUSE A MUCH MORE CONSCIENCIOUS SOUL THAN OURSELVES REMINDED US THAT DUH, DICKHEAD, YOU SIGNED A CONFIDENTIALITY AGREEMENT. AND WE ARE LAW-ABIDING. WE CAN'T STOP THE 8 OF YOU WHO ALREADY READ IT FROM GOING OUT AND MAKING YOUR OWN, BECAUSE WE KNOW YOU'RE THAT SMART, BUT WE HAVE FAITH THAT YOU'LL DO THE RIGHT THING.
Posted by The Twins at 11:22 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Yeah man, yeah
We'd just like to hand out two snaps in an H formation to Hilatron, who overcame her fear to move from Browser to Wower status at Mary Mary's All Star Karaoke last night. Wish you all could have been there to see her channel The King for a sizzling hot rendition of Suspicious Minds.
And because we clearly have some sort of rare disease, tonight we're going to test a new Karaoke game being developed for PlayStation 2. Is that fucked up or what?
Posted by The Twins at 09:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 29, 2003
Who you calling a hoe?
Note: The following is adapted from a comment we posted to Snowshoe Crab. We do that occassionally, respond to someone else's blog and then think, "hey, that was the most blogworthy idea we're likely to have in the next 48 hours, might as well reproduce and expand." We figure to come clean, so that if any of the bloggers who inspired the thoughts ever visit, they're not like, "dude, those twins are so lame, they like totally posted the exact same thing on my site today, duh."
So we just returned from a family weekend in New Hampshire, where The Dude's parents have a lovely farmhouse, the perfect base for skiing in the winter and hiking and biking in the summer. Personally, we like it for its compatability with napping and reading books. Girl-E has made a note to self that while a lovely perk, 40 acres of pine forest surrounded by majestic mountains are not essential to vacations of napping and reading, and therefore she can save thousands of dollars in the unlikely event that they ever have the money for a second house. The Dude and any future children may disagree, but it's a starting point.
The New Hampshire house is great because it is always overflowing with beer and garden-fresh vegetables. This is because, well, The Dude's parents love beer, and because there is a very large and fertile vegetable garden behind the house. This garden is a great source of pride for The Dude's parents and the couple they co-own the house with, and so it should be, because the food it produces is all really quite impressive. But while Girl-E is always the enthusiast of eating it when it's in the kitchen, it has been identified that she is not really sufficiently impressed with how it got there. Family trips to tour the garden hold absolutely no draw for her. And while she is appreciative that other people spent full weekends squatted before the bean and arugula seedlings in order to bring bounty to her plate, she would never have even the slightest impulse to do the squatting herself.
The Dude's mom finally discussed the subject with her this weekend, presumably to see whether she can check off "likes to garden" on the list of desirable daughter-in-law attributes. Girl-E is close enough with her mother-in-law that saying what she wants to hear is no longer necessary. So her answer was basically straight along the lines of "never been interested, never will." Her mother-in-law gave her a look you might give someone if they said "I hate black and white movies," and said, "it's probably because you've never tried it."
While there are many things in this world for which this might be an adequate explanation for an aversion, gardening is not one of them. Here are a few iron-clad facts about Girl-E, so you be the judge: While being outside, she hates doing anything that might constitute anything resembling "working". She has bad knees and is so inflexible that she's never once touched her toes. She is rather impatient. Her definition of "blowing off steam" usually involves a beer in one hand and a microphone in the other. Plants have a way of becoming invisible to her; if she receives one as a gift at work, it is inevitable that a colleague will come running into her office after a few months screaming, "I can't stand it anymore!!" and remove the dry, blackened, aphid-infested carcus from her desk. She only makes salads with triple-pre-washed bagged lettuce because greens-preparation takes five minutes that she could be eating, and she was once injured by a salad spinner.
So what do you think, should she try it?
Posted by The Twins at 11:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Obit
Dude, isn't Bob Hope already dead?? I mean, rest in peace, you king among men.
Posted by The Twins at 10:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 24, 2003
She may have a centrifugal ass, but does she have a JOB?
Don't let anyone ever tell you it's not who you know. Girl-E has recently been praying to this altar in order to land a series of job interviews in a flailing job market, every one of which obtained because she used to work for just the right people. But the big scoop of nepotism came today when she was offered a job (woo HOO) that she didn't even apply for, just for being a known quantity. Now, one would assume that those who knew her quantity had reasonably positive things to say, but the situation does leave a little to be desired in the casting the net department. She's still going to go on the remaining dubiously obtained interviews, but at least there is no longer a worry that come September she won't be able to pay the mortgage. Or buy high-end de-frizzant hair gel.
Posted by The Twins at 09:30 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 23, 2003
Centrifugal Ass Girl
Ok, because Girl-E's between-jobs-ass life right now revolves around little more than shampoo and karaoke, we find it necessary to refer you to Blogatron for a hilarious perspective on last night's festivities.
Posted by The Twins at 04:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Epiphany
Sometimes we just can't help thinking that our standards of cool are just not nearly high enough. One can think one is the bomb for making a bar full of people get up and shake it to one's karaoke rendition of Karma Chameleon, but then one reads about someone bringing a tire iron to a bar, and one realizes she is just a cliche of cool, not the real thing.
Posted by The Twins at 11:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
FFD
Happy Funny Face Day! Celebrate in silly, silly style, and send your pix to Hilatron for the Leisure Agency pictoral.
Posted by The Twins at 11:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 22, 2003
Urban oasis
Snaps to the YMCA. Seriously, everyone should just dump whatever overpriced, eucalyptus steam room-touting, own-line-of-beauty-products-hocking gym you belong to, and sign up at your local Y.
First, it's a non-profit organization, so you're not giving your (in the Y's case totally reasonable) membership fee to The Man behind the self-esteem-crushing facist fitness machine. Second, if you live near enough to a city's main branch, they are often every bit as clean, modern, and perks-laden as an upscale gym. In fact, where Girl-E has had to pay $12 a month for a towel service at other gyms, the Central Boston YMCA gives her two piping hot clean towels for free when she checks in at the desk. Third, it is simply the most ethnically diverse workout experience you are likely to have anywhere. Every other gym Girl-E has ever belonged to basically screamed "aren't we just such young, hip, professional white ladies!" This is decidedly not the case with many urban Y's, and being there evokes a strong and undeniably pleasant feeling of "so this is where the real people come to sweat".
Oh, and another thing, they kick your ass there. Girl-E's step aerobics experience last night was nothing short of ballbusting. And everyone there (of all shapes and colors) knew each other, and they all knew when to clap and holler and slap eachother on the bottom (ok, not really, but figuratively). In the pre-class banter, they were all in feverish anticipation of a class called Boot Camp that is starting up next week. And these weren't your typical model-perfect gym-hounds, these were real ladies who just love the pain.
Next month, she may even join the master's swim team there, just to enhance that clubby-cool feeling. She belonged to the YMCA swim team as a kid for 7 years, and it seems about the right time in life to come full circle with these things.
And get that freakin song out of your head.
Posted by The Twins at 05:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 20, 2003
Something special in the air
Well hello there! You're looking well. We've finally come up for breath long enough to pay some overdue attention to you good people. So we're going to scooby back a couple of weeks, since the story below is really just too ready-made for light-hearted blogging and/or a crappy syndicated sit-com.
On July 8, Girl-E and The Dude managed to get their 10 large pieces of luggage to the Istanbul airport without anyone getting hurt. They had to pay for extra baggage, and Girl-E was extra wary because the last time she was at the airport, she came close to physically harming a British Airways agent who charged her $1100 to fly the cats home after she'd been quoted $300. But the nice people at Delta proved to be much more worthy of breathing the air on this earth, as their piece of unexpected news was that they'd oversold coach and we were upgraded to Business. 11-hour flight to New York. Sooo-WEET.
Immediately upon settling in their big comfy chairs, Girl-E and The Dude started downing free champagne and futzing gleefully with the 16 buttons that adjusted their phat seats. They experimented for the very best lighting on their individual movie/video game consoles, and played Lone Ranger with the sleepy eye-covers. They soon noticed that sitting in front of them was a middle-aged couple, the female half of which had absolutely had multiple face-lifts. We feel bad for women who've had face-lifts, because they think it makes them look younger, but all it does is make them look genetically related to every other woman who's had a face-lift. The two were undoubtedly new lovers, as they were noticeably frisky and totally indifferent to any scene they might be making.
About halfway through Dare Devil, right after the salmon-asparagus salad and before the hot fudge sundaes, the champagne, three glasses of wine and two coffees made their merry way home, and Girl-E had to pee like never before. She stepped into the aisle, squinting and cursing at the occupied sign on the door. As she stood there, a little girl came down the aisle and stood right smack in front of her to wait for the bathroom. A little retarded girl. It must be admitted that in her desperate situation, Girl-E was in no state to be deferring her position to even a little retarded girl. The girl did seem to notice after a minute that she had cut the line, and so she looked up at Girl-E and said in her little sweet voice "Can I go first?" It must also be admitted that Girl-E did in fact hesitate for a good eight seconds. When she did finally speak, she only glared and said "I guess."
A few minutes later, the occupied sign turned to vacant, and Girl-E just stared at the little girl as if to say "you better fucking hurry up". When the door opened, face-lift lady came out. Followed by face-lift lady's boyfriend. So there they were, flush-faced, greeted by a welcoming committee of Girl-E, Little Retarded Girl, and a flight attendant who had just come out of the galley into the aisle. As they shuffled quickly past into their seats, the flight attendant, one of those fabulously Boston ladies who'd been proudly serving Delta Airlines for 22 years thank you very much, looked at Girl-E with her mouth as agape as possible, and said loudly, "Oh my gawd, you read about that stuff ya know!"
Girl-E did manage to wait for LRG to finish, and then fell back into her seat next to The Dude, giggling convulsively and trying not to catch the attention of the lovebirds in front of them, although let's face it, they really didn't deserve such discretion. So several hours later, the fabulous flight attendant comes back down the aisle, glancing left and right, shit-eating grin on her face. She leans over to Girl-E and says. "My gawd, was that funny or what?" Girl-E answered "yeah, it's a good story". "Well," said FFA, "I have some more information for you. We just checked the lavatory in the front, and found a black thong. Can you believe it? Some people, I sweah." While she probably should have been wondering how someone could possibly forget to put on their underwear after screwing on an airplane, all Girl-E could think about was how FFA must be chomping at the bit to get back to the staff lounge at JFK and tell every flight attendant in earshot that finally, after 22 years, she caught a couple a' Mile-Highers red-handed, TWICE, she sweahs to GAWD."
Morals of the story:
- Business Class totally rules.
- If you have a disability, you should not expect normal levels of deferrence and compassion to hold when people have to piss.
- You are free to try, but you will get caught.
Posted by The Twins at 03:15 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 15, 2003
La La La La La
Tonight, kids, is the big night. As you may recall from the April 7th entry here, Girl-E's year in Turkey was seriously flawed by the absence of a certain weekly karaoke show. Well, the countdown is over, and she will be kicking it joyfully tonight at the Milky Way in Jamaica Plain for Mary Mary's All-Star Karaoke, starring Mary Beth Callahan, simply the coolest girl in school. She will also be joined by Hilatron, who it is greatly hoped will make an appearance on stage, although we will not put any excessive pressure on her we promise.
As of the last time we checked, Girl-E will be singing something by the Pretenders. But anything could happen.
Posted by The Twins at 03:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 14, 2003
The girls are back in town
A few bits of info:
- We are officially repatriated, semi-settled in Girl-E's lovely Boston triple-decker, enjoying microbrews and the ability to electrically dry clothing.
- We already have some good stories to tell you about the last week and a half.
- However we are still too flummoxed by the Headthumpingly Massive Homecoming To Do List to adequately share them at the moment.
- But we don't want you to stop visiting so we are just telling you that we're thinking about you.
- And if you remain the faithful friends we know you are you'll continue to check the blog every day or so, even though you may be disappointed one or two times but that's ok, you don't mind, because you know how busy we are.
- But we're getting high speed internet on Wednesday and that should help things along.
- Humor us, we're insecure.
Posted by The Twins at 12:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 07, 2003
Baggage
We were going to give an account of the weird and wonderful Turkish wedding we attended last night, but we're a little too distracted by Girl-E running circles around the apartment screaming "Can't! Do it! Never! Fucking going to work!", referring to the two huge boxes and six pieces of luggage which still, apparently, are not enough for all of their crap.
So, we will close the Turkish chapter of Boo-blog, and leave you positively drooling with anticipation for the Boston phase. Goodbye Turkey, we love you!
Posted by The Twins at 08:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 05, 2003
R.I.P.
Barry White, you were our smooth, sexy role model in more ways than one. We hope you are surrounded by cocktails and incredibly hot honeys in that great hot tub in the sky. Your voice will resonate forever, man.
Posted by The Twins at 10:49 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 03, 2003
Screw you, Kermit
So we're actually back a little earlier than expected, the trip was ever so lovely, we'll post some pictures once Girl-E deals with this hauling her ass and every goddam thing she owns 10,000 miles thing.
By the way, helpful as the Lonely Planet travel guides can be, please note that when they refer to a city as "thoroughly cosmopolitan", what they mean is "a throrough shithole". Just a tip. Also, if you ever thought the idea of staying in an old mansion on the banks of a placid river inhabited by thousands of adorable bullfrogs sounded charming, keep in mind that bullfrogs don't sleep, and are really, and we really do mean really, fucking loud.
So the next week is going to be nuts on wheels, and when we get to Boston next week there is going to be, gasp, no internet service as of yet, so please be patient with us if we either fail to post for a stretch, or manage only to post short little uninteresting bits of nothing like this one. We do count on the impending reverse culture-shock to give us all kinds of good material.
Posted by The Twins at 01:04 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack