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January 30, 2004

Q & A

Q: What's the best way to get ready for the Superbowl when your home team is the favorite?


Posted by The Twins at 12:51 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

May day

In the process of figuring out just how fucked up she got from the Turkish kids, Girl-E has become hypersensitive to the details of pre-existing personality quirks. This may not be news to you if you've been reading for a few months, but bear with us. Anyway, for someone who has pretty much always had her shit immaculately together, and is pretty damn smug about it at that, this is a fascinating and yet thoroughly annoying exercise.

This week's topic is Inability for Self-Sacrifice. Now this doesn't mean she wouldn't defend her loved ones to her death-- the sacrifices she shuns are superficial, unimportant, everyday shit that she swears she can't live without. For example, if two super-fun things are planned for the same night and she has to choose, she's a basketcase. Similarly, she lives in mortal fear that any two or more of her seventeen engaged friends will choose the same date for their weddings. If she finds the perfect sweater and can't decide between colors, nine times out of 10 she will buy both, and the tenth time she will suffer regret for days until she finally goes back and buys the other one. Etcetera.

She's pretty sure this explains her inability to realize her dream of being really really good at one thing. It doesn't matter what that thing is, but she's spent her life trying to find the thing that one can be really really good at with minimal sacrifice of free time, diet, or discomfort. This search has led her through passable compency at sports, music, academic distinction, whatever. Apparently she's a whiz at synthesizing and summarizing information, but that's hardly sexy. The fact of the matter is, it takes focused sacrifice of varying kinds to truly excel, and since this means practicing whatever the thing is during The West Wing, things don't look good.

Last night, she came face to face with this story of her life. She complained to her voice teacher that one of the things that keeps her from singing her very best is that she gets hoarse easily, feels discomfort when she sings or speaks for a long time, blah blah. He assured her that these things are totally treatable, she just has to keep up with vocal exercises to relax the muscles, drink lots of water mixed with Gatorade, and cut out caffeine.

Um, dude. Serious breech of all things holy alert. Why don't you just ask her to cut off a toe, or tell her she'd have healthier vocal chords if she became a Republican? In case we haven't mentioned it, Girl-E started drinking coffee when she was two. TWO. And, no, "can you switch to decaf?" is not the response we were looking for. Nor is "I know it's tough, I cut out coffee six months ago and it almost killed me, but now my range and quality is better than ever before." The Diet Coke she could probably be weaned from with serious but possible effort. But the coffee? Things are dire here, people. We are at a crossroads. Fuck and fuck.

Posted by The Twins at 10:27 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 29, 2004

Sun, sun, go away

It is no secret that Girl-E and The Morning are sour enemies. From an objective standpoint, she supposes the morning could be considered serene, crisp, blah blah blah, but she usually spends most of it cursing, staring blankly, and running into things. It is totally unnatural for her to be conscious before 11:30, no matter what time she went to bed, and so the expectation that she should be thinking, writing, or having a conversation with anyone before that point is really just ludicrous.

In pennance for yesterday, however, she did manage to get to work at 9:03 this morning. People really should know how much danger she puts herself in every day by attempting this, evidenced by the picture-perfect ass-dive she took down her icy granite front stairs this morning. Those of you who have been to her house are familiar with the Fun House Stairs of Hell, so you can understand how well her day began.

When she got off the train, the shocking realization that it was only 8:54 led her to take the luxury of ducking into a cafe where they have actual milk for the coffee (the free coffee at work only comes with Mini-Moos, those unnatural and criminally nasty "no refrigeration needed" half-and-halfs). Deciding that she needed something more than the packet of instant oatmeal in her purse, she also threw in a blueberry-bran muffin and a banana. She wasn't thinking about much except how hungry she was, drowsy and crabby she felt, and lunch (since visions of impending food tend to orbit her head hours before it materializes). She thought how pleasant it would be to meet up with Girl-C at a trendy new lunch place, and swore that she will be getting the bibb lettuce and grape tomato salad, and not the ham and onion pizza, for reals.

As these highly profound thoughts swirled through her sludgy brain and she went to add the milk in question, she noticed a disheveled man sitting at the counter near the dispenser. He wasn't eating, but was taking a penny to each of the 20 or so scratch-off lottery tickets piled in front of him. He was not complaining that he had to get up in the morning for an interesting job with his own office. He wasn't trying to convince himself to choose the healthier of the $9 entrees. He very probably wasn't thinking about what to write in his blog today. He was existing with a small and desperate hope that there has to be some way to get the good life where it has failed him before. He was not calculating his odds, nor reflecting that even a $20 win would not make up for the amount he'd put in over the weeks, months, years. He was not playing the scratchers in the way the rest of us play the ring toss for an oversized stuffed fish. He was persevering, irrationally, but persevering none the less.

Girl-E is still woozy, and grumpy to be awake, because her circadian rhythm persists in its folly. But every so often we need these reminders. Though not as much as we all need something real to hope for.

Posted by The Twins at 10:14 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

January 28, 2004

Humpty Day, here's the way, do the Hump

Seriously, we seem to be having a problem with unifying themes. So here's today's version of yesterday's post.

Nikita, is, indeed, quite lovely. And, delightfully creative. She even gave us a not-incredibly-short ride home, Smiths CD already in the stereo and everything, which has bonus points scattered all over it. Coincidentally, she briefly went to high school with The Dude (he thinks he knows who you are, by the way).

Girl-E came to work at 11:00 today. She's still borderline conscious. Remember what we said about that boot up the ass? Yeah, well, really.

So, this presidential race sure is getting saucy. That's it, we have no other comments on that at this time.

Karaoke was a legitimate howler last night. Highlights included an absolutely smokin' version of "Piece of My Heart" (which is hard as hell, by the way, kudos to this girl and her pipes), "Mr. Roboto" complete with dancers, and Girl-C's rendition of Loretta Lynn's "Fist City". Reverend Pete opened the evening with a Benediction in praise of The King, for which he distributed copies of the congregational responses. We're not kidding, this is not your little sister's karaoke.

Ok, we totally forgot what else we were going to say. Someone really needs to invent an insta-nap caplet or chewable.

Posted by The Twins at 01:36 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

January 27, 2004

Oh, The Man, what are we going to do with you?

Click here:

Watch the ad, sign the petition, make a phone call. Pantherwhacking without some Bushwhacking does not an awesome SuperBowl make.

Posted by The Twins at 02:16 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

Tuesdays are for lovers

FYI, this entry will have no main idea, nor transitional sentences between paragraphs, nor developed argument, nor section headings, nor plastic colored binder with page protectors.

Right now, thousands of smug New Hampshirites are heading to the polls, laughing pretentiously at the irony that their tiny, homogenous state gets to pick the next president of the United States. We friggin' hope they're right.

Girl-E really needs a nanny. Her boss just left for DC, and it's pretty much a foregone conclusion that she won't do a damn productive thing before 1:30. It doesn't help that she's been officially diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder from her job in Turkey, allowing her to claim that she is a "sufferer in need of healing" rather than the "lazy, self-centered bastard in need of a boot up the ass" that we really know she is.

Not to be negative towards our online brothers and sisters, but we have a sneaking suspicion that most of the people who cast votes for blog entries on Blorgy.com actually cast low votes for the competition, rather than high votes for posts they like. Because the averages of some really freakin awesome posts are way too low (and we're not talking about our own, by the way, since we can't even figure out how it got up there).

We are very excited that we will be meeting our first bloggy friend today, the lovely Nikita (of course for all we know she has two heads, but she hasn't mentioned that, so we're going to assume she's lovely).

After a three week absence, plans are underway to return to the karaoke stage this evening. Girl-E spent her shower this morning brushing up on her Boy George.

Posted by The Twins at 10:48 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

January 26, 2004

No more monkeys jumping on the bed

Girl-E has a thing for remedies. She has an astonishing intolerance for discomfort of any kind, and an unfailing optimism that there exists somewhere a cure for any ill. If someone suggests that some certain vitamin supplement or ointment is good for something or other, she rushes right out so she doesn't miss out on a single day of potential improvement. As a result, her OTC inventory could serve as a Walgreen's branch.

It doesn't stop at aches and pains, though-- she is almost equally susceptible to promises cosmetic in nature. She is a one-woman justification for investment in inspired packaging designers and marketing staff. And while she does draw a line at animal testing, feel free to use all the chemicals and synthetic ingredients you want. If a man-made compound will do a better job than green tea and grapefruit extract, then you just spend as much time in the lab as you need. While she will be the first to admit that something doesn't work as promised, she figures that if it says it will do something, there is at least a 15 percent chance that it will, which is good enough for her to give it a try.

About an hour ago, it struck her that she could not take another bloody minute of her skeksy-like winter skin or the four canker sores setting up camp on her tongue, so she dashed out to the wide world of feel-good offerings. Five Origins products and a CVS sweep later, she is convinced that tomorrow will be a new hydrated and pain-free day. Since it may take until tomorrow for the feeling in her face to return after exploding the tube of Orajel.

Posted by The Twins at 03:05 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

January 24, 2004

It's my Party, and I'll cry if I want to

Not sure if you like him like him? As the primaries approach, look no further than Blogatron's Guide to the Presidential Candidates as Potential High School Love Interests.

Posted by The Twins at 11:25 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

January 23, 2004

Intelligentsia/cream cheese brownies

It's Friday and Girl-E is wearing a suit. She rarely does that, but today and tomorrow she's going to this insanely academic conference, mainly for the excuse to get out of the office and the free baked goods. It has actually turned out to be extremely interesting, and is making very few demands on her energy, and has cocktails in an hour, so really what is there to complain about. The only problem is that everyone else in the room has a Ph.D., so when people ask her "what is your field?" she has to come up with something to make it sound like she has one. She sort of does, but that question means something totally different when one has a doctorate. She's tempted to say "Wrigley" and then just wander away.

On a totally different topic, we would just like to take a moment to say hello and thank you to new Boo-blog readers-- we've noticed an upsurge of visitors and some new "faces" lately, so just giving a shout out that we're right honored and look forward to a long and minimally productive relationship.

Posted by The Twins at 05:35 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

January 22, 2004


We have no explanation, but Girl-E just spent the last hour emailing old high school teachers. Who does that? She seems to have been overcome by some kind of freak nostalgia, and decided that hearing from her would make their week. Whatever, tool.

Posted by The Twins at 01:45 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack

Finders weepers

Thanks aplenty to Staz and Katerina, who notified us about the return of Bella the golden retriever to her rightful owners. We imagine the press making the new owner sound like a grade-A harpy had something to do with it. The idea of having to deal with Girl-E and The Dude if something like that happened to one of the cats gives us nightmares.

Speaking of nightmares, Girl-E has been having a slew of them about her students in Turkey. It's become quite clear that her teaching experience there was the one true trauma of her life so far; even worse than when her dad passed away, when her dog was put to sleep, when she didn't get past the first round of Teen Jeopardy! tryouts. For the first time ever, she has genuine baggage. It's like a movie where a princess, posing as a regular gal to defy her overprotective parents, suddenly realizes she has to carry her own trunk to her 4th floor walk-up in the Big City, which she also discovers does not have central air. Er something like that. Anyway, she's plucky, she'll get over it someday, but in the mean time she probably has several more nights ahead of her of waking up in a cold sweat screaming "SIT -- DOWN --- NOOOOWWW!!!!!" and bursting into sobs.

Posted by The Twins at 10:15 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

January 21, 2004

I believe the children are our future

While some may say that Girl-E has a new ambition every week, one can at least say that they're all related, and her latest one was confirmed last night during that bigotfest infommercial which claimed to be a "periodic report to Congress on the State of the Union." She decided it's simply unacceptable for future generations of voters to watch something like that and take it at face value-- this would be no less important if it were a Democratic president saying philosophically agreeable things (well, maybe a little less important). Anyway, this all leads to her latest Bright Idea to be a high school government/civics teacher and ensure that at least some group of teenagers understand a thing or two before it's too late, including:

1) Taxes, and why we need them
2) The Constitution
3) The two-party system
4) How a bill really becomes a law
5) Why to vote early and often
6) Grassroots activism
7) The real nature of Josh and Donna's relationship

Of course she just started her current job in September, and as it fulfills previous Bright Ideas she plans to put in her time, but it's never too early to start designing mock referenda.

Posted by The Twins at 01:38 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

January 20, 2004


We are 22 minutes through the State of the Union, and he has already said "nucyuler" twice. TWICE. We can't even listen to this, and yet we can't stop watching, on the off chance that an anvil will fall on his head. It's all just so wrong, we can't type as fast as the wrong coming out of his maw.

Posted by The Twins at 09:32 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

Finders keepers

If you decided to get your daughter a dog for her birthday, went to the animal shelter and signed adoption papers for a golden retriever, and then found out six hours later, before you were even able to take the dog home, that it belonged to a grieving family who had lost her the week before, would you give up your claim and pick out a new dog?

OF COURSE YOU WOULD!! If neither you nor your daughter had any attachment yet whatsoever, you'd be thrilled to reunite a lost dog with its owners, especially if they offered to buy you a pure bred! That is, unless you're this bitch in San Jose, who basically said "tough shit" to the dog's owners, even though they could prove it was theirs because it answered their commands in Greek.

This makes us sick. Don't fuck with people's pets, lady. I think we're going to write a letter. If anyone else wants to sign a petition, let us know.

Posted by The Twins at 02:45 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

Weekend roundup

What we want to do right now is offer a reflection on the importance of Martin Luther King, Jr., an analysis of how his dreams are yet unfulfilled, and a heartfelt plea to each of you to do what you can in service of peace and justice.

But good intentions and mental energy levels do not always jive. So instead, you get the following:

1) If you're going to waste any time watching American Idol, make sure it's early in the season (premier continues tonight and tomorrow). Those people who suck are high comedy. You have to give props to the folks who just do it for fun, do something wacky and then leave satisfied that they were on national television. The people we don't understand, however, are those who are outright bad but are genuinely convinced of their talent and scoff at the judges' huge mistake. What happened to being your own worst critic? As a vocalist, Girl-E has no delusions that she will ever make her living on it, let alone be even locally famous. But she at least has the validation that she doesn't completely suck by the fact that people who aren't related to her have asked her to sing in public, sometimes even for beer money. If it weren't for that, she would never rely on her own judgment of her abilities. Who are the meanies telling these poor souls that they rock and they should totally go for a musical career? People may say Simon's a dick, but his own explanation is that he's giving some people a much needed reality check, and he's always nice to people who are actually good. Ok, so maybe we're being a little harsh, and the losers are definitely a big reason to watch the show, and you have to give them credit for trying, blah blah. But really.

2) So, John Kerry, look at you go. Whoda thunk. While we have some major problems with you, we're glad to see someone getting some momentum in this cloudy contest. And yo, we don't care how much you love him, Howard Dean's post-caucus speech was sca-ry. His shrill outburst was a dead ringer for Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?.

3) While you're not likely to care, Girl-E successfully did this* yesterday for the first time ever. It was a hard, uphill battle, and she thinks she deserves some kind of medal or an ice cream sundae named after her or something.

*In the event there is any confusion, please note that this is not a picture of Girl-E, this is some yoga chick on the internet. While we couldn't really see it well, we suspect Girl-E's wheel was not half so elegant.

Posted by The Twins at 12:11 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

January 19, 2004

Soup is good food

Since we're fond of one or two lovely souls from Indianapolis, we will be merciful in the smack related to the Patriots decisive victory last night.

Instead, we will share this quote from dear friend DQ, Philadelphia native, regarding the Eagles' sad loss in the NFC Championship:

"There's nothing worse than watching millionaires not doing their job. I will write to Donovan McNabb, and tell him I am shamed and will no longer condone any of his activities. Then I will write to Chunky Soup. And say that if they do not add more fat millionaires to their Chunky Soup recipe, I will no longer purchase their product."

Posted by The Twins at 12:43 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

January 18, 2004

Itchy Gitchy Ya Ya Da Da

We intended to post a picture of Girl-E pretending to be a disco star, but someone forgot to bring her camera to the show. So you'll just have to imagine it. It went pretty well, considering she'd had 8 days to learn 30 songs, no one outside the band would have noticed her fuck ups. Then again, guys in oversized hockey shirts with large gold crucifixes and women wearing New York City sweatshirts don't necessarily notice things like the finer nuance of harmony.

Not that we're stereotyping this particular venue or its patrons. Just because they'd come out on a Saturday night to play pool and watch Married With Children/basketball/Ace Ventura, Pet Detective on the bar's three TVs instead of dance to soul music doesn't mean they couldn't be pleasantly surprised.

Anyway, there will very likely be more shows to come. But next time it will be a three or four Red Bull night, two just didn't cut it; seeing as she is in reality not a disco star but a geeky old lady, a four-hour performance has put her on the DL for the remainder of the weekend.

Go Pats.

Posted by The Twins at 12:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

January 15, 2004

Mars is looking better every day

Girl-E forgot to put her mittens on before she went outside today, and all of her fingers save her left thumb fell off onto the porch. True story.

The Boston production of Blue Man Group is having a special discount on tickets this weekend because they were able to save a bundle on make-up.

The neighborhood kids have called an emergency meeting because the snowmen are on strike for having to work in dangerous conditions.

There are reports from all over the city that dozens of Dunkin Donuts customers are picking obnoxious fights with those ahead of them in line, in hopes of having coffee thrown in their faces.

Members of the Massachusetts National Guard are paying out of pocket for plane tickets to Baghdad.

The Indianapolis Colts are sending an unfeeling squad of uruk-hai to play the Patriots this weekend in the playoffs.

Posted by The Twins at 10:10 AM | Comments (10) | TrackBack

January 14, 2004

Attribution is the highest form of flattery

We presume that at least half of you have heard all about Julia's well-waged fight against a certain gutless and apparently witless plagiarist named Bryan Lamb. We know we're a few days late, but today we'll add our contribution to Operation You Can Appreciate Without Stealing, Asshole.

Below are several gems that we wish we'd written ourselves, but since we didn't we'd like to share with enthusiastic praise. There are many more from many of you and others, but this is a recent sampling:

"I'll have you know I have several black Friendsters" -- The Onion

"Who replaced my morning Earl Grey with Infusion of Bitch on Wheels?" -- Hilatron

"(Paul O'Neill) has a pond in his backyard that he always keeps stocked with at least 5 frogs, 'Three for pettin' and two for lickin'!' " -- Aaron

"I'm always afraid that a beaming mother will hand over her baby, and I'll instantly react in 'special (bowling ball) hold' mode, and I'll scoop the baby into the air using my right hand: 'Now I get to keep her for a few turns, right? Because I need to warm up and practice. For some reason, my first throw is always a gutterbaby.'" -- Greg

"I don’t harbor any grand philosophical belief in man’s irresistible need to return to the womb. Sure, I like to swing by there as much as possible, but I don’t know if there’s actually some deep-seeded biological necessity." -- CW

"Spontaneity has its time and its place." -- Daphne Zuniga in The Sure Thing

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Sausage." -- Stark Sands to Jason Priestly in Die, Mommie, Die

"Hey, stupid bitch, watch where the fuck you're going." -- The guy on the subway escalator

So you see, giving credit where credit is due is not difficult, and in fact marvelling in the joy of someone else's creativity can be quite satisfying. Not to mention the satisfaction of creating something for the first time yourself. When you steal someone else's words without attribution, everyone loses. Well, not really, just you. Go try bad poetry for a while, and come back to your blog when you're not such an "asshat" (Julia).

Posted by The Twins at 11:11 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 13, 2004

We're outa here

Ok, this is the absolute last straw. We're moving to Mars. Sign us up for your pilot colony, Mr. Bush.

Plastic bowls?

Posted by The Twins at 04:20 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

You front me, you lose your teeth

Dental students are punks. This morning, Girl-E went to her weekly appointment at one of the area's top dental schools for knee therapy (long story), and she ended up in the elevator with a gaggle of bleary-eyed dudes on their way to class. Mad Dope Dental Students with their skull caps and their hemp chokers and their Adidas track pants. Anyway, their conversation went something like this:

MDDS #1: Aw shit man, I forgot my gym bag today.

MDDS #2: I got mine right hizere, boy-yeeee!

MDDS #3: Yo, I checked with Bones this morning, he's still sleepin'.

MDDS #2: That's right on, Micro-bio is such a fucking waste of time.

MDDS #1: What the hell floor are we on?

MDDS #3: We're on the first floor, Buttbrain.

MDDS #1: No, Dumbshit, I meant what floor is class on.

MDDS #2: I think it's like, seven.

MDDS #3: Fuck I've got a headache.

Dental school must be kee-razy, man. All the honeys and the bling and all that shizzit. Sign us up.

Posted by The Twins at 11:01 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

January 12, 2004

You want we should bake you a cake?

You'd think, wouldn't you, that when one gets to be 48 years old and a university professor, one would be past the practice of announcing to anyone he encounters that it's his birthday tomorrow.

Posted by The Twins at 11:14 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

January 11, 2004

Let me explain

Girl-E is a compulsive explainer. Whenever she makes the decision to do or not do something, you will never hear "it sounds cool" or "I just don't have time" as her explanation. Her behavior is never that simple, and she finds it absolutely necessary that all relevant parties be fully aware of just how obsessively thoughtful she is about every decision.

The advent of email was tailor-made for someone like her. We're sure many who know her would agree that her e-mails on topics such as "why I'll be 45 minutes late to the party" are excrutiatingly nuanced. And don't even get her started on weighing long-term commitments or major life decisions. Her friends and family have doubtless become accustomed to this, and have learned how to skim for the necessary items and delete. Strangers or acquaintances, however, may be overwhelmed or downright spooked, so we're just here to assure the masses that if you ever receive one of these epic ouvres, she really is just thinking of you. See here for further explanation of her related neuroses.

We'd write more, but Girl-E seems to be paralyzed in thought about whether to go to yoga today, and she may need some assistance. Have a lovely Sunday.

Posted by The Twins at 12:53 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Saturday, Midnight

The Patriots just moved on to the semi-finals. Being extremely erratic in her football fanship, Girl-E is only excited in the mildly content way, although it did help the enthusiasm level to watch the game in a room full of drunk boys who automatically dealt her a hand of blackjack during each timeout/pause for station identification.

While walking down the 3 degree/-12 windchill street this morning, two fire engines wailed past Girl-E and stopped in front of the building she happened to be going to. Her first thought was not one of disappointment or fear, but rather pleasure at the thought of standing cozy by the blaze.

Some people really do let their dogs get way too fat.


Posted by The Twins at 12:04 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 09, 2004

We're not even going to mention how effing cold it is

So.... other topics.... what else could there be to think about...

Oh! Going to see Die, Mommie, Die tonight, can't mother-loving wait. If you don't know Charles Busch, you should educate yourself immediately. Hottest drag star in America and brilliant screenwriter/playwright (can anyone tell us why "playwright" is spelled like that, by the way?).

Also, Girl-E got herself a gig as a back-up singer for a disco/soul artist. The show is next Saturday, three sets over four hours, she's more than a little concerned about how to be ready for that many songs in the next seven days, seriously. Time to dust off her two-CD compilation from the 70s Preservation Society. She gets the feeling it will be a little like singing at a wedding only it will be at a bar. But the band is great, and who doesn't like cutting a rug at a wedding, so it's all good. She really needs this right now, we can't really explain her addictions but we suppose it's better than crack or gambling.

And here's a tip we learned at a friend's house last night-- if you're throwing a smallish party, give your guests grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. You have no idea what a hit it will be.


Posted by The Twins at 10:57 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

January 08, 2004

Copping a POTUS feel

If you're the kind of tool who, like Girl-E, considers politicians to be in the category of flashy celebrity, you should seriously consider a career in academia. Institutions of higher education are like Florida for retired statesmen. While some people define their career progress in terms of an increase in salary or quarterly sales, Girl-E looks at things like how many former Clinton administration officials she comes into direct contact with on the job. Her tally right now is four, two cabinet secretaries, a speechwriter and a White House events planner. They have of course varying degrees of knowing who in the hell she is, but she has graduated to cheek-kissing terms with the speechwriter.

We suppose this kind of thing is even more routine if you work for, say, the government or a lobbying firm, but there is an appeal in dealing with these folks after their political careers when they can say and do whatever the hell they want. After the pressures of Washington, academic freedom must feel like heroin. And if Michael Dukakis were running for president again instead of teaching a course at another local university, she never would have had those two peaceful rides standing next to him exchanging pleasantries on the #39 bus.

Being surrounded by Beltway glitz does have its perils, however. We don't think there's anyone who's met her who hasn't heard about the time she got drunk at a cocktail party during a Clinton speaking visit and "accidentally" put her hand on his ass while getting her picture taken (she claims he was taller than she thought). She never did get a copy of that damn picture. Anyway, it was no biggie really, we're sure he's used to it.

Posted by The Twins at 01:32 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 07, 2004

And there was music, and there were wonderful roses

Damn hell yo! That's what WE'RE talking about! Forgive us Mary Mary for we have sinned, but the new karaoke host who replaced her for the first time last night brought THE HUGEST FUCKING SONGBOOK in the history of amateur performance. TEN THOUSAND titles. Chrissie Hynde being her songstress role-model, Girl-E was positively flippy about the presence of a dozen Pretenders songs (as compared to the two in Mary's old books). While they never got their all-girl Smiths tribute band off the ground, Girl-C was able to capitalize on the Smiths offerings, tucking away some Morrissey solo material for later. The book even had some old-school ska, which had the high school sophomore in Girl-E skanking her eyes out.

Anyhoo. Someone definitely gave Reverend Pete (the new guy) some tips on how to impress the hard-nosed Mary-worshipping regulars. Pete even referred to Girl-E as an "all-star" when introducing her, a title she had never earned before, reserved only for an elite group of rock star wannabes (that's actually not an oxymoron, but you'd have to be there to understand. And notice that we remembered the word "oxymoron" this time). Amen brother.

Girl-E actually has a lead on doing the pseudo - rock star thing for real again, but we don't want to jinx anything so we'll report back on that (or not) next week.

Oh and for the record, until about 10 minutes ago she was working her ASS off all day, no time for a single pudding.

Posted by The Twins at 04:25 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

January 05, 2004


So. Hey. Here we are. Vacation's over, Girl-E's back at work. She is decidedly vexed. For someone who has sincere ambitions to be an accomplished contributor to society, she sure is taking this hard. One little 10-day respite and she can barely put on her shoes. Someone needs to tell her that having the time to watch all 9 hours of Lord of the Rings in one day is a privilege, not a right.

This morning she was given a new project, to coordinate and develop the intellectual framework for a high-level recurring seminar on closing the racial achievement gap in education. If you don't know her, this is the kind of thing she would have named as her dream job from the age of seven. Not that rock star and dolphin trainer didn't sound cool, but even as a wee tot she advocated a realistic balancing of idealism and pragmatism. So anyway. She should be completely psyched, but instead she's moping around and staring dumbly out the window because at the moment her only ambition seems to be reading in bed and eating pudding. We even think we heard her mutter something about how to go on maternity leave without getting pregnant, but we're not sure.

Posted by The Twins at 11:46 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

January 02, 2004

Mutts and Mittens and Tiki Bars, oh mai

Yeah, so hey, what's up. Sorry we've been AWOL, but it's the holidays, we're sure you understand. Anyway, as this bitchin' week of frollicking winds down and we look with darkened, heavy lids towards Monday, we're sure the last thing you want to hear is a daily account of our week between Christmas and New Years. You had your own, you don't need ours. But here are a few images you can play with. Please send written requests for further details or fond holiday wishes to thetwins@boo-blog.com, replies will be sent in the order received.


Everyone needs a brother-in-law

Everyone needs drunk rock star friends

Fare thee well, Mary, we loooovvvve you!!!

You can have your rum-based potions...

...real bitches drink appletinis

Tiki beasts

Posted by The Twins at 01:51 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack