Thursday, April 30, 2009

"How to be a Vegas Bride" or "I Went to Nevada and all I Got Was This Lousy Pre-Nup", by Nicole

I've always said that if I ever get married again I'm doing it in Vegas, and I'm not alone. Brides have been flocking to Sin City since 1943, when Betty Grable and Harry James tied the knot at the first wedding chapel on The Strip - The Little Church of the West.

Vegas is fast-paced, glamorous, exciting...and just about the only place a girl can get married looking just a little slutty without being judged for it. Here are my top four looks for The Modern Vegas Bride:

Carrie Underwood's petal-covered mini pays omage to the Vegas Showgirl in a way that's almost - dare we say it? - classy. Beware this neckline if you've got man shoulders - it'll just make it worse.

Though the fit of Gwyneth's sheath has been controversial since she wore it earlier this year, we can't help but loves it. The bad-ass black platforms scream "Don't Eff with me!" white the dress whispers "Unless you have to".

If you're more a fan of the Brat Pack-era Vegas, throw on a simple shift with a three quarter sleeve. A few gold paillettes never hurt anyone, either. The A-line of the dress is forgiving if you have a bit of a tummy, and the sleeves are just roomy enough to hide a flask in.

Sweet Christ, Marissa Miller is hot - And the strapless white number ain't too bad either. Pair this with a little black ankle boot and we think we've got ourselves a winner.

Either way - we think a Vegas wedding is hot ass.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

"Everybody Alexander Wang chung tonight" by Nicole

Picture this scene, if you will: my NGFBFF (non-gay-female-BFF) and I were wandering around NYC, trying to find an obscure, off-broadway theatre near Canal Street to see a show starring a guy we'd never met, who, incidentally, has a huge boner for her.

We step into an elevator and press 3. The doors open.

Screw the theatre. Screw Iowa. THIS was heaven.

I don't recall any specifics...I just remember alot of black and white tile, mammoth crystal chandeliers, and racks of sparkly shit I probably couldn't afford. It was fabulous. Our heads practically lift off our bodies as we lean in, to catch a stolen glimpse of this jewel hidden among the rough streets of Manhattan - in which we were certain we didn't belong.

The stylish blonde standing on the other side of the elevator doors agreed.

"You guys going down?"


Our heads reattach as we take our places on either side of the blonde like two awkward, doe-eyed bookends.

"Um. What was that?"

"Alexander Wang."


The doors open on the ground floor and we go our separate ways. She, to continue living her lavish, presumably perfect life - and we, to continue look for the theatre and subsequently shit ourselves.

Holy crap! Talk about a Hot Ass of the Week! We, in our search for theatrical obscurity stumbled upon the Alexander Wang showroom?!

Now, in case you've been living under a rock, Alexander Wang is just about the hottest young designer right now. Go on and Google him, I'll wait. You know all those ripped jeans and tissue-thin Ts you've been seeing just about EVERYWHERE?? Yeah. That's him.

The next morning, as the sun shined, we walked to find a place to grab pancakes and a Bloody Mary and passed the same unmarked, unassuming building where we had had our life-changing elevator ride to couture paradise. While NGFBFF and Boner Boy chatted, I glanced up at the second floor windows longingly, when, there he was - leaning against a wall of perfect glass. On a perfect New York day. In perfect solitary peace. From his perfect world.

We caught each others eyes for a moment and I looked away, suddenly shy from his gaze. Alexander Wang. Looking down from high above like a skinny, fabulous, asian Jesus watching over his flock. As I walked down the hot sidewalk on this gorgeous New York morning, with $1 in the pocket of my ripped jeans, the sun wisping through my tissue-thin T, and Alexander Wang looking down at me, life suddenly felt just a little perfect.

The spicy Bloody Mary diluted my morning haze and, as I sipped, I wondered if somewhere, on a second floor near Canal street, a skinny asian Jesus thought I was fabulous.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

"If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you like watching 'Fail' vids on YouTube, too?" by Tregg

I'm going to pose some rhetorical questions in this blog, just as a warning. I don't want them answered. I will just take your silence as agreement. I know I'm in the minority of this issue, and that's ok.

Does anyone know how this whole "____ Fail"  craze started?  For example, the picture i this blog would be a "driving fail."

I don't know what this means.  Of course, I get it.  But when did accidents or, I'll indulge the phenomenon, "failures" start being dubbed "fails" ?  I think the first time I heard this word, it was used in a sentence and the person barely provided enough context for me to understand.

"Hey, Tregg.  Have you seen that dance fail video?"

No, I have not.  And what the hell does that mean??!!  I'm all for the latest trends and keeping up on lingo, and even shortening words to the brink of incomprehension.  But I hate watching YouTube videos.  And I hate that overnight a viral video sensation known as "fail blogs" and "fail videos" was born.  Why is the American public supposed to know what this is?  Who coined this term?

I don't get it, and I'm not jumping on this bandwagon.

Although, that table fail video of the fat girl singing atop a table and falling off was pretty funny.

What am I saying??!?!?!

Saturday, April 11, 2009

This Song is Trash: "Soulmate" by Natasha Bedingfield

Kudos to Ms. Bedingfield for working the word "transitory" into a song.

Other than that, we're not impressed. Perhaps the suits at her record label decided to launch this trash as her next single because she recently tied the knot. That's the only explanation there could possibly be for subjecting the public to this crap.

Valiant effort, Natash - but, please, stick to your uptempo jams. After all - Speidi may be doing a spin-off and they're gonna need a theme song.

May we suggest "Pocketful of Hates it"?

That's brilliant. Someone get our agent on the phone.

What? We don't have an agent? ...Hates it.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

LIOHI Goes To The Movies, albeit a few months late

Last night, thanks to the beauty of Netflix, we finally watched the multiple-Academy Award nominated film Milk. We also could have watched Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, but we've seen that before. It is hilarious, however, so go watch that if you haven't.

We really didn't know anything about the real story of Harvey Milk, except enough to ruin the end of the movie. He gets assassinated. That was really unfortunate information to carry into a film because we are horrible at guessing endings, but that is the burden you bear watching a film grounded in an historical context.

Anyway, onto the film.

Sean Penn was amazing. We had the added benefit of seeing the movie after his Oscar acceptance speech, but seriously, he did a phenomenal job. He totally slipped into a character for the film, and one that he was not born to play. He's just that good. Even at the end of the movie, when they show the real Harvey Milk, it's startling how much Penn resembles him both physically and in his mannerisms.

It was also a very moving film. In parts. We found ourselves getting a little teary eyed while Milk rallied the citizens of The Castro to protect their inalienable rights. It would have been such a powerful feeling to have even filmed those scenes, let alone to have lived it.

However, the movie didn't do as much for as a whole as we thought it would. Don't get us wrong, it was well done, but the hype building it up as the next greatest movie ever didn't pan out so much. Perhaps we received reviews from a biased (read: gay) audience, but it was much less Vitamin D Milk and a little more 2%.

Get it?

It was like Strawberry Quik. Still better tasting than your average milk, but it's not our favorite flavor.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Hates it: "Where the HELL is my Chiffon?" by Nicole

"What happened to Andre?"

The designers have been chosen, the finale has been why am I still living without my semi-annual dose of Project Runway?!

Apparently, there is some sort of sick-ass contractual war being fought out between Lifetime and Bravo, the winner of which will be airing the series...hopefully sometime before hell freezes over or Cher launches yet another farewell tour; whichever comes first.

Can we please sort this out already? And for the record, I'm rooting for a Bravo victory. Lifetime and I have been on the outs since they stopped airing The Nanny and replaced it with Reba.

I mean, what's next? No season two of The Rachel Zoe Project? Kill me now!

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Hot Ass of The Week: "Flax Seed Tortilla Chips" by Tregg

I know, right?  How odd to be celebrating food this close to beach season.  But these chips are fucking delicious.

I bought some yesterday along with some peach and mango salsa and I have, one day later, eaten the entirety of both packages.  I feel somewhat guilt-free because I think these chips are supposed to be pretty healthy for you.  However, I refuse to verify this fact by looking at the nutritional facts in case I just ingested 3 days worth of calories.  

It's like when I was in college and if I'd go back home for a weekend or a break, I'd bring my backpack.  But often I'd never do any of the work I should have, and I'd feel terrible remorse upon returning to college.  I found that if I left my backpack at school, I enjoyed my vacation better.  If the urge struck me to work on homework, I simply thought to myself, "Oh, I forgot my backpack, so I can't do any work."  And rather than remorse, I felt satisfied with this road block.  That was much easier to cope with, for some reason.

Moral of the story is, go buy these chips.  Enjoy.  Just don't tell me if they are good or bad for me because they are too delicious.

Ignorance is bliss when tis folly to be wise.

This day is going to hell in a hand basket.

We start our days pretty routinely. 

-Wake up.
-Get dressed.
-Make breakfast.
-Go to work.
-Log on to Facebook.

But not today.  Today, we encountered this horrifying error message while signing on.

Facebook Login
Account Unavailable
Your account is temporarily unavailable due to site maintenance. It should be available again within a few hours. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Oh, hell no!  What are we supposed to do all day?  A few hours? But...but...what if people upload pictures?  How will we know if our friends run into people they hate at the store?

This day is going to take forever.  We curse you, Facebook.  

Oh, wait.  It works now.  We just tried again.


Monday, April 6, 2009

"I'd like to phone a friend." or "On the fence about another Black Eyed Peas song" by Tregg

Why does this always happen to me?  It's been years and years, and yet, when confronted with this situation, my reaction is always the same.  Confusion.  Indifference.  Negativity.  Resistance.  

But every time the final conclusion is inevitable.  I fuckin' loves it.

Such is the case with the latest offering from the Black Eyed Peas.  Boom Boom Pow.  I am still in the middle of my see-saw of emotions toward this song, and I am having an incredible case of deja vu akin to the days of "My Humps" back in 2005.  I hated that song.  The video was trash, and I had the sinking suspicion that "lovely lady lumps" would become part of pop culture vernacular.  The idea of this song becoming a mainstay at parties and on my iPod was too much.

But eventually it wore me down.  I found myself paying for the electronic jukebox at McMurray's at Wittenberg to play the song NOW.  I would pay the extra 50 cents to trump the next bad rap song some townie would play.  Play "My Humps" NOW!

How could the Black Eyed Peas do this to me?  I'm never usually a fan of kitschy music.  Gimmicky songs never do it for me.  I have loathed everything Sean Kingston has subjected me to.  But the Peas, man, will get me every time.

So I write this blog to help sort out my feelings, but I'm coming to realize while I may not be there yet, I will be soon.  I am going to love "Boom Boom Pow."  It's only a matter of time.

Sick Ass of the Week: "Yes, I'm behind you. No, we are NOT besties", by Nicole

Yes, waiting in line is crap. We all know this. You know what doesn't make it any better? Turning around to bitch that waiting in line is crap to the person behind you!

Why do people do this?? As if I haven't noticed that I've been waiting in line for a long time, they feel the need to turn around and put their toxic attitude on me.

"You'd think they'd open another register."

"This is ridiculous!"

"You know, I don't have all day. I have a bunion I need to take care of."

You name it, I've heard it. I don't know why some people get so bent out of shape when it comes to standing in a line. It's A LINE. That's kind of the point. You have to it...until it's your turn. Wasn't this covered in kindergarten?

I understand that some people don't have patience. I have zero. But get a grip, people. Grab an US Weekly, add up your purchases in your head...mentally make fun of the person in front of you, ANYTHING! But, please spare the person behind you. They're not interested. Also, they're too busy mentally making fun of your outfit.

"Tell me about it, stud!" by Nicole

Lately, I've been considering making a certain...investment. Considered retro by some and pathetic by others, I've been pondering it for quite some time. Recently, I opened up to a good friend, looking for reassurance, a second opinion, anything(!) to help me's what happened:

Nicole: "Spoo, I want to buy a Bedazzler."
Tregg: "Spoo, you crazy. HAHA."
Nicole: "I want to stud all my clothes."
Tregg: "I want someone to stud ME."

OK, not the reaction I was hoping for. But, COME ON! What better way, in these recession-astic times to save some cash? Instead of spending money on the overpriced rocker-ish clothes dominating the stores, I could just Bedazzle the SHIT out of the ones I've already got!

I wonder how difficult it is to drive studs through a leather boot, anyways.

A Bedazzler runs about $19 on Ebay. You think they'll throw in 500 square silver studs for free? I'm working on it.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

"Listen to me!!" or "Why I hate old people." by Tregg

Besides from the obvious cons of aging, today at Starbucks I was reminded of another reason why I dread getting older.

Two people in front of me in line was an old woman.  She didn't look like the sweet, demure grandma-type.  She was more the "I'll smack you with my cane" type.  I watched patiently as the following scene unfolded:

Old woman:  "I'll have a green tea."
Barista:  "Do you mean a green tea latte, or an iced green tea?"
Old woman:  "From the pitcher, a green tea."
Barista:  "Ok, do you want it sweetened or just add some water to it?"
Old woman:  "Five iced cubes, green tea."
Barista:  "What size would you like"
*Old woman fumbles with her hands, trying to mimic the shape she wants."
Barista:  "Tall, grande, or venti?"
Old woman:  "Grande."
Barista:  "Ok, that's one iced green tea, grande."
Old woman:  "LISTEN TO ME!  *claps her hands together* I want a green tea, five iced cubes, from the pitcher."
Barista:  "Ok, ma'am.  Is that all?"
*she gets her drink*
Old woman:  "Is this a grande?!?!"

Granted, I paraphrased this, but suffice it to say that the woman couldn't accurately explain her order, and the barista was being as understanding as a saint in trying to listen.  I continue to think that Starbucks baristas are the most patient and pleasant employees on the planet, and this further proves it.

When I got up to the cashier, the barista apologized to me for the wait.  I told him he did a great job handling her, and he had told me that's the third time in two weeks she has yelled at him.

I know she may have been losing her mental acuity, and Starbucks isn't exactly the easiest place to place an order, but I still don't know why old people get off on thinking they can act as rude as they want to people who are being perfectly nice to them when they don't immediately get their way.  The sense of entitlement that so many people get when they tip the age scales over 60-65 really annoys me.  Don't they realize soon they will need to be taken care of by their much younger family members?  I will be much more inclined to spring for a swanky retirement home if my parents don't act like angry bags of skin.

I mean, I love my parents.  Definitely no Shady Pines for them.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

"MARCH that ass to the gym, it's time to get APRIL-LY skinny!" by Nicole

Bathing suit season is almost upon us. While Tregg is sunning himself in the 'Bu, we at the East Coast Offices are devising a Spring Shape-Up.

Long story short: There's a shitload of cute bathing suits in the stores and carbs can ride us.

We'll let you know how it goes.