« January 2004 | Main | March 2004 »
February 29, 2004
HAPPY 7th BIRTHDAY HILATRON!!
It's a little known fact that all robots are created on Leap Day. But they're not all as awesome as she is.
Posted by The Twins at 10:02 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 27, 2004
SNOWY'S COMING!!
Snowy's coming! She's coming here! This weekend! Just to see us and Nikita! Cuz she's a WILD WOMAN! And we're special!! We're hyperventilating!
Posted by The Twins at 05:13 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
1987 Karaoke Prom
You asked for it... everything you ever wanted to know about the Karaoke Prom.
Posted by The Twins at 11:57 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Beeg Weener!
Our investigative skills indicate that the 10,000th visitor to Boo-blog is Heather! Or possibly Robbie!! Or maybe Chi!!! Whichever one of you scientifical people work on a server named after Mme. Curie, and come to us via the aforementioned possibly disqualified Jess. So speak up (no lying, Robbie), send your mailing address to thetwins@boo-blog.com, and wait patiently for your prize.
Posted by The Twins at 11:24 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Who's the Beeg Weener?
Someone today will be the 10,000th (not unique, sadly) viewer of Boo-blog, and you will win a big prize, which will be determined after you are identified based on what we think you deserve. We're still on the fence as to whether Jess qualifies for this competition, seeing as she provides every fifth hit.
Posted by The Twins at 10:20 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
February 26, 2004
Mean people suck
When your boss, known internationally as one of the most accomplished and productive leaders in her field, comes back from a meeting with her boss with tears streaming down her face, it's really time to question the world order. Not that you hadn't before. Why do the assholes get where they get? Why do people get to lead enormous, obscenely rich institutions by crushing the morale of everyone in their path? How can we guarantee they'll come back as aphids in the next life?
Posted by The Twins at 04:55 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 25, 2004
A Message to the High School Kids
Dear Adolescents of America and Elsewhere,
It gets better. Life sucks, we know-- you can't get a date or you get one too many, your friends are stabbing you in the back, you've been laughed at and called a fat dork to your face, you think you're doing something impressive and some jealous asshole shits all over you for it. You're convinced, probably, that your social status now is fixed for eternity. Well, we're here to say, balls to that. You have to take our word for it that all that crap starts to dissipate in college, and even more so afterwards. Not that there aren't shiny new problems, but the particular hell you're experiencing now is only temporary. Really, hang in there.
How do we know? We'll give you an example. As you probably know, Girl-E is a weekly regular at a certain karaoke show, the one she swears all the time is so special and unique and blah blah. While she has a bosom partner or two for this undertaking, there is a group of folk that she has become friendly with over the course of being in the same place with them at the same time every week. Last night, her regular k-buddies unavailable, Girl-E decided to go anyway, inviting the adorable and uber-talented Kat whom she'd never met to meet her there. It turned out that the regular location was under renovation, so the devoted and ever-creative host rallied the regulars to crash karaoke at another bar several miles away.
We know, we know, you wonder how this is related to the first paragraph. Just a sec. So anyway, Girl-E headed off to a strange bar, to meet a stranger, and hang out with semi-strangers. As it happened, a large proportion of the regular crew had in fact answered the call to relocate, and a wonderful time was had by all. Now the important part is to understand this group of people, and how they prove that shit gets better. We'll disregard the fact that this happens to be a multi-racial group -- we'd hate for this anomoly to mislead you into thinking that the segregation thing gets better. Anyway, this particular group of folks, drawn together only for their love of making an ass of themselves and their willingness to travel for it, is made up of representatives from every conceivable high school stratum. There are the anal, straight-A newspaper editors like Girl-E; the musically gifted and curiously bad-ass drama guy; the pair of fat girls; the rotund, four-eyes, Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt-wearing super-shy boy; the gorgeous bohemian girl; the sexy and universally-loved class clown; the non-descript semi-dorks; the so-weird-she's-totally-cool hipster; the new girl from three towns over (that's you, Kat), and the list goes on. Not only do these people hang out together every week, they just love each other to itty bits. And not because they all got Saturday detention and were stuck together for a day with nothing else to do but relate.
So the point is, adults and quasi-adults are capable of gravitating towards people for totally different reasons than you're used to, and this can, unbelievable as it sounds, make you comfortably tight with people whom, at this moment, you want to step on, blow up, or do anything to get their attention. Bad-ass drama guy doesn't care that rotund boy can't dance, and in fact he'll propose a duet. Don't despair.
Sincerely,
Leto & Roz
Posted by The Twins at 12:13 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
February 24, 2004
Professional Development
Since you were a wee tot, you've dreamed of being a bullshit artist. You practiced on your friends, teachers, parents, but with mixed results. You may think "I could never make it as a professional bullshit artist." But we have good news -- you can! With the right attitude and secrets from the pros, even you can make it in the competitive world of bullshit artistry! Want proof? Here's a free lesson from Girl-E, our Senior Bullshit Instructor -- try it on your professor, your boss, anyone, and we guarantee results! After the free trial, you can sign up for the course series for only $179 (plus materials)!!
Lesson 1 (free trial): Organization
There is a misconception about bullshit artists that they are lazy and unorganized, and succeed by an innate ability to pull crap out of their ass. Lazy they are, indeed, but a well-organized bullshit artist is in the best position to bullshit effectively. "But wait," you ask, "how can someone be organized and still be a bullshit artist?" Think about your own prior experience with bullshitting. Think of a time you were, say, asked to clean your room, and instead picked up everything off the floor and shoved it in the closet. Did you panic? No. Did you say "screw you," and leave everything on the floor? Of course not -- the consequences of doing so were the reason you utilized bullshitting in the first place. No, you were organized; you had an arsenal of potential bullshitting strategies, which included using your closet in order to cut work time by 90% but still end up with the same result, at least as far as authority was concerned.
Now you're in the academic or professional world, and the bullshitting skills required are more complex and nuanced. Flat-out excuses or ultra-quick fixes will only get you so far; you are, on occasion, actually expected to produce something for scrutiny. You may think that it is beyond your capabilities to be a practicing bullshit artist and still submit a quality product to your advisors or supervisors. Not true, Stu! What, give you an example? Okey dokey, Smokey! Piles. Making piles is something which requires minimal mental or physical activity, requires only a monkey's ability to distinguish between one thing and another, and is something you can do while talking on your cell phone, reading blogs, waiting for your credit card to clear on Gap.com, anything! Let me give you an example of how piles helped me today:
I was asked by my boss last week to collect and synthesize research proposals which have been submitted for a project. I also had to schedule a series of seminars related to the proposals based on the availability of a few key participants. All of this information came to me by email, which I knew immediately because I check it every three seconds. While eating my Jello pudding snack this morning, the due date, I brainlessly clicked the 'print' icon one time for each proposal. Stopping by the printer on my way back from the bathroom 20 minutes later, I scooped up the printed emails and a fistful of Hershey Kisses, and headed to my desk. While Googling my full name with maiden name, nickname with maiden name, full name with married name, and nickname with married name, I sorted the stack of emails into two piles, research proposals and scheduling preferences. The trick to efficiency was that the proposals had lots of words on the paper, while the scheduling requests had few words on the paper. See, no reading needed!
Forty-five minutes before the meeting with my boss, I typed the proposal names in bold and the first two sentences of the body underneath. If there's anything a bullshit artist needs to understand, it's FORMATTING. Bolded section headers and well-placed bullets give the illusion that large amounts of work were done, particularly if, as is the case with most, your boss doesn't know how to use the computer. Now, you may ask why I didn't cut and paste the sections of the proposals for the synopsis. A logical question, but one that pins you as an amateur. Do you know how much time it takes to click back and forth between Word and your email client? And to keep track of which email you've pasted and which you haven't? The piles create a streamlined path of least resistance -- and you can look impressively busy while flipping through them and typing, alternating between the document and your IM conversation. Finally, I had the pile of availability emails all lined up to propose seminar dates. I didn't look at them, but was able to truthfully tell my boss that I had a range of dates all lined up. See how it works?
There are many more examples of how piles and modified fonts can help you build your bullshit portfolio, which you can access by signing up for our online course, for only $179 (plus materials)! And if you sign up now, you'll get our bonus publication, "Bullshit Art History: Plantation Owners to Presidents" absolutely FREE! In the mean time, I hope you enjoyed your FREE lesson -- go ahead, try what you learned today and you'll see, anyone can be a professional bullshit artist!
Posted by The Twins at 04:29 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
February 23, 2004
Someone needs a quick, solid punch in the head
It's all well and good to bring work home for the weekend, and feel virtuous because you actually did some, but it's easy to go from productive to utterly fucking useless in the blink of an eye when you LEAVE IT ALL AT HOME ON MONDAY MORNING, ASSHOLE!
Excuse us, we will be spending the next two hours on the train.
Posted by The Twins at 09:43 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
February 22, 2004
Monster, Monster, MONSTER
We will probably write about this eventually, but right now we're still processing.
Fear the Eradicator
You frontin'?
I wanna stuffed monster truck!! Pretty pretty please?
What else is there to do post-rally, really.
Posted by The Twins at 03:32 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 21, 2004
DON'T DO IT!!!
Within seconds of learning about the website www.naderexplore04.org, Girl-E fired off the following email. Some of you may not agree with its sentiment, but if you do, we urge you to send one like it to info@naderexplore04.org.
Dear Mr. Nader,
I know you expect criticism for exploring a 2004 presidential candidacy, and for all I know it fuels your resolve. In a perfect world, voters could support who they truly believed in with the consequence of electing the best man or woman for the job. But the thought of four more years of a Bush administration is
ghastly and horrifying, and your candidacy would, no matter how you deny it, help this happen. I don't have to quote the 2000 Florida numbers to you, which I'm sure you've seen hundreds of times. Kucinich was your proxy, he didn't carry the message-- take that for what it is and give the Democrats a shot. Believe me, as a progressive, I am also dissapointed in and disillusioned with the Democratic Party regulars, but Bush is a far greater enemy, to Americans and the world. I admire and respect you for your ideas and conviction, but please, for the love of Allah, let it go this time.
With utmost pleading and sincerity,
Girl-E
Boston, MA
Posted by The Twins at 04:24 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 20, 2004
Inka Binka
We really thought she was full of shit, but Girl-E has gone and gotten herself published, albeit in a pretty small market for now. But look out Cat Fancy...
Her first clip is here, and the 'zine has accepted two more pieces which should be up some time this month (including the Karaoke Prom story which we know you are all drooling for). Also including the Ok Go review from this blog a few weeks ago, which she just went and ripped off from us without asking, the bitch. Our attorney will be contacting her shortly, Bryan Lamb-style.
Posted by The Twins at 02:14 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack
February 18, 2004
Wait 'til he hears about messenger bags
So Girl-E is waiting at the dentist today, sitting next to an ancient professor and his ancient wife who are endlessly schvitzing about the wait. Between schvitzes, the wife reads excerpts from the New York Times outloud, mostly about Howard Dean and breathalizers. A staff person enters and calls the name of a young man seated across the room, who gathers up his things and disappears through The Door. Staring at the young man as he exits, the ancient professor turns to his wife and says, full of vigorous disapproval, "have you noticed that all the young people are wearing those... back--packs? It has really become the fashion!"
Now while acknowledging that it is impossible to flawlessly keep up with the times, particularly as one gets older, there are times when it does seem appropriate to grab the elderly by the shoulders, shake hysterically, and shout "Are you fucking kidding me?!? Does it really come to this? How do you even feed yourself?!? How many fingers am I holding up? Jesus!!!"
Etcetera.
Posted by The Twins at 12:40 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
February 17, 2004
Tour de Force
Oh jeebus we're tired. Not from any specific exertion, just tired of it. If it weren't for the Gatorade and slice of lemon poppy seed loaf sitting on Girl-E's desk, we're pretty sure we'd just deflate and slump to the floor. The long weekend was as pleasant as they always are, complete with skiing/absolutely nothing-doing trip to Western Massachusetts. But now we're back to it.
Speaking of bicycles, you must see The Triplets of Belleville as soon as humanly possible. Even if you think the idea of a French cartoon with no dialog sounds unpleasant. Because it's very, very pleasant, and uproariously funny, and chock full of cartoon fat people. It also comes with a bonus short film conceived in 1946 as a joint venture between Salvador Dali and Walt Disney. No shitting. Picture Belle's head turning into a dispersing dandelion, and there you go.
Alright, sorry for the brevity today, time to get back to it.
Posted by The Twins at 01:59 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
February 12, 2004
All's fair in love, right?
So does anyone else find it ironic that the Massachusetts Legislature is spending the week before Valentine's Day trying to establish a legal and exclusive definition of love? If we were lobbyists for Hallmark, we'd be down at the State House right now fighting for our right to make "To my loving wife on Valentine's Day, from your wife" cards.
We actually are awash with guilt that we're not down there anyway, seeing as we are so passionate about this issue, but Girl-E is going through enough of her personal days as it is. She knows this already, but mad love to Nikita for fighting the fight.
We've talked about this issue enough already to know we should spare you from more, but think just and optimistic thoughts for equality (notice we are not asking you to pray).
Posted by The Twins at 10:12 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
February 11, 2004
Note to self
Fat free brownies are in fact still brownies. If you eat them like they're a bunch of grapes, it will inspire a different sensation.
Posted by The Twins at 02:59 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
February 10, 2004
Top 10 ways to spend your mental health day
10) Sleep until you feel atrophy setting in.
9) Make that box of fat-free brownie mix.
8) Vigorously smother cats. Repeat.
7) Using a stopwatch, time how long it takes for you to understand every plot element of Days of Our Lives, drawing on nothing but the knowledge you have retained from watching the show in seventh grade. Swiftly turn off television before brain damage begins.
6) Plan your outfit for tonight's Karaoke Prom.
5) Pluck eyebrows in pajamas.
4) Make to-do list of all possible daily activities so as to maximize crossing-off potential, including "lunch," "shower," and "eat brownies".
3) Quickly answer all work emails to support clueless, harried boss's likely belief that you are in fact sitting in the adjoining office.
2) Fixate. Open topic.
1) If you haven't thought of how to end your blog after 15 minutes, move on and check brownies.
Posted by The Twins at 02:15 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
February 09, 2004
Paging Dr. Kellogg, your patient is coding
Have you ever been sitting at your desk, working peacefully, when suddenly a horrible, desperate feeling wells up and you start getting dizzy and clammy? And you run into the hall and down the stairs, convinced you'll never make it? And you look left and right, disoriented, until you finally get there, thanking god that you've narrowly escaped yet another embarrassing scene? And then discover that not only have you arrived just in time, but you actually have the exact change to buy the Pop Tarts? Man, that was a close one.
Posted by The Twins at 03:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 08, 2004
Excess
Good morning. We're really just here to mention that we might be a little flakey in the post department for a few days. Girl-E is in another one of her phases where she tries to live the life of six people at one time, it's irritating. At the moment, she's got enough work to fill her days and then some, but it doesn't stop her from contemplating a casino singing tour (including Vegas possibilities) and kicking off a freelance writing career. Which is actually looking slightly promising, so stay tuned on that. But still, really girl. How she can be so unbelievably lazy and then think she wants to take on all this shit is beyond us. Anyway, see you sometime.
Posted by The Twins at 11:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 06, 2004
If it were real life, Apu would be the fat one
In the trauma and tedium of searching for that perfect holiday gift, every once in a while you stumble on a gem, you lucky bastard. It's a particularly special event when the giftee in question is content as can be with their unextravagant but warm fuzzy life. This past Christmas, Girl-E somehow fashioned a brilliant idea for what to get The In-Laws Who Have All They Need for Unending Bliss. She signed up all four of them (the in-laws, The Dude, herself) for an Indian cooking class at the local center for adult education. That class was last night.
All we can say is, Holy Indira. Girl-E may scarcely be able to make an omelet, but now she can make her own masala, and is undoubtedly a better woman for it. And talk about your fragrant basmati. Shee-it. They made dishes from all four distinct epicurian regions of the subcontinent, extending beyond the Northern cuisine which dominates our American restaurants. The day fried onions are discovered to be a legitimate ingredient in Indian food is a very good day indeed.
She has spent the past 12 hours with radioactive sinuses, however, and like the best of Guatemalan Insanity Peppers, the spices involved gave her unbelievably fucked up dreams last night. But while she'll probably rely on her father in-law to actually follow through on the lessons learned, it sure was bitchin. Namaste.
Posted by The Twins at 10:29 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
February 04, 2004
Island in the Snow
Every once in a while, you just have to hoist yourself up by the bra straps on a Tuesday night and go to a rock show with every 19 year-old in Boston. It's all the more authentic if you don't even make it home at night, crashing with a friend who lives fabulously close to your office, surviving Wednesday on no more than a borrowed sweater and moisturizer.
But it's all worth it if the rock show features the infinitely huggable boys of Ok Go. You seriously want to wrap these guys in iridescent pink ribbon and give them to your sister as a high school graduation present (Girl-E doesn't have a sister, but the analogy still holds). The band would be indisputable front-runners to pick up the mantle of Weezer, if Weezer were past their prime. Fortunately, Weezer is not past their prime, meaning there is now just more creamy zingy key lime pie alternative pop to go around.
Lead singer Damian Kulash is so unpretentiously adorable, that he'd get plenty of panties thrown at his feet even if he didn't have a pleasing, versatile voice, solid guitar skills and an earnest but playful stage presence. It's refreshing to see a vocalist who can rock on driving lead lines and then float seamlessly into falsetto at just the right times. The other band members, particularly bassist Tim Norwind and Andy Duncan on keys and guitar, do their part to add unique, spot-on backing vocal harmonies. It's a bit like if Cake tightened up the backing vocals and knocked them up a register. While they are all excellent musicians, there is no needless showboating-- the guys have no problem taking turns dropping their instrument and picking up the tambourine.
In addition to the guys' appeal, the songs are great, and clearly a product of their admiration for the brainy fun-house style of They Might Be Giants (and they in fact boast John F. as their manager). During the teenage love song "It's Tough to Have a Crush," Damian invited singles in the audience to volunteer for an on-stage slow dance. After thoughtfully asking the first volunteer whether he was "a ladies' man or a guys' man," and learning the latter, Damian limited the partner selection process to boys. The pretty-faced but presumably straight college boy who volunteered, and his lucky partner, could not have made a cuter couple.
While undeniably gimmicky, the band's encore of an impersonated boy-band dance to a recording of their song "C-C-Cinnamon Lips" was none the less hysterical and appropriate. An obvious mockery, the finale still paid due respect to the fact that cheesy as it may be, there is a reason people like to watch cute boys getting their groove on in synchronization. We have a feeling that if it didn't have such a self-idolizing and agonizing connotation, Ok Go would not hesitate to embrace the Boy Band moniker.
We definitely recommend you pick up a copy of Ok Go's self-titled CD on Capitol Records, and check their website for tour dates near you. Don't forget to bring the pink ribbon.
Posted by The Twins at 11:38 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
February 01, 2004
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Posted by The Twins at 11:05 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
High stakes test
1) What are you most likely to spend your Saturday evening doing when you pass up an invitation to go dancing with friends?
a. Watch "The Elegant Universe" documentary on String Theory.
b. Watch VH1 All Access about Clay Aiken, and decide he's the nicest, most down to earth pop star ever and the story of his rise to stardom is just too precious.
c. Watch Best in Show. And by this we mean not the Christopher Guest movie, but the actual AKC National Championships on Animal Planet.
d. All of the above
2) What is the best time to wake up on Superbowl Sunday?
a. 8:00; start the morning off right with a 9:00 yoga class.
b. 10:00; get a little extra sleep but still start your day off right with the 11:00 yoga class.
c. 11:30; push snooze for 45 minutes, reset alarm, push snooze for 90 minutes -- wake up just in time to eat lunch, watch Chris Matthews, News Radio and TRL.
d. The game doesn't start till 6:00, right?
Posted by The Twins at 01:11 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack