"The future is nigh" or "I finally braved my iMovie program." by Tregg

That's right, folks! LIOHI has crossed over to YouTube. I am almost done uploading my first LIOHI video blog, and I am kind of excited. As soon as I was finished, I thought about changing my clothes and repositioning my laptop to do another video, giving the illusion that it was another day. But alas, I didn't do that and will only present one video tonight.

Warning: I did this VERY off the cuff and some of what I say doesn't make sense. For example, I don't explain who Kim Zolciak is, partly assuming that most of you would know, and partly because I forgot. And at the end, I meant to say I couldn't find a "clean" version of the song, meaning without the Ryan Seacrest junk on it. But after re-watching, that didn't really come across. However, there were some funny moments that I wanted to keep. And since I'm not about to start editing at this stage, I just kept it all.

Loves it? Hates it?

"Proj Run is back!" or "I wonder if Lindsay Lohan will ever get a haircut" by Nicole

Oh, sweet indulgence. Thy name is Project Runway.

Finally, Thurdays have meaning again. After 11 months of legal pish posh and half-baked Kelly Rowland-infused knockoffs, our favorite show is back. Someone pass the chiffon.

The premiere episode did not disappoint. Skipping a trip to Ralph's in favor of Mood on Pico, the first challenge was to create an innovative red-carpet worthy dress/gown/whatever to be judged by the biggest whatever of them all: Lindsay Lohan.

This batch of designers shows great promise. That is, all except the bat-shit-ass crazy girl who got the boot after the first challenge. Is it just me, or did Ari look like a dead ringer for Samantha Ronson?

I think we all know who was behind that "Auf Veeds".

Juicy lesbian drama + fashion = Loves it.

"Oh, no she DIDN'T" or "Peg Bundy called, she thinks you look sick ass" by Tregg

Now, I've taken issue with this whole campaign from the jump off.  I've politely kept my mouth shut.  But now, my journalistic injunction is being involuntarily lifted by the code of conduct I hold for myself.  After all, I was voted Best Dressed Class of 2002 at Vermilion High School.

Britney Spears, while she has been through the ringer in the past few years (don't get me started) was once Donatella Versace's muse.  She's now doing a Candie's campaign.  For Kohl's?

Oh, hell no.

Furthermore, they decided to stick her in this banded, faux leopard--which is probably made of velvet, sick ass--jacket with leater--read:  pleather--piping.   I don't know what era that is from, but it is certainly not from 2009.  

But more importantly, I find it hysterical that Britney cannot even muster a hot face for this picture.  You know there were about 500 shots in this outfit to get a good look, and we get THIS.   Bitch knows this outfit is trash, and can't fake it.

For that, I salute you, Britney Spears.  Now go wipe some fried chicken grease on this coat and get a frappucino.

HOT ASS of the Week: "FRIENDS re-runs" or "How to Beat the Sick Ass Summer TV Landscape" by Tregg

While the summer is fun for several things-- beach visits, al fresco dining, treating weekdays as weekends like you're still in school-- one thing it lacks is loads of good, new television.  Now, I'm no hater of reality television, but a lot of the summer reality shows are like the stepchildren you receive after marrying someone late in your life.  You feel bad not loving them, but let's face it, they're a pain in the ass at this point.  Shows like Big Brother  and Top Chef: Masters  are laughable in my opinion.  Especially since reality TV also dominates the fall line-up, hello American Idol, summer reality series are literally the television equivalent of being picked last at dodge ball.

So what is an almost-mid-twenties bachelor to do?  Series record arguably one of the best sitcoms ever:  FRIENDS.

I watched this show religiously, but missed much of the final seasons while I was in college.  And once it ended I only sporadically caught it in syndication.  But recently I have found a new love for this classic show.  And besides the fact that I envy the fortune I know they were amassing while shooting this-- $1 Million an episode toward the final years--  I love it more than ever.

So this summer, set your DVR to record every FRIENDS episode it can find.  You will find yourself with plenty of good television to watch while you wait for Melrose Place to premiere on The CW.  Oh, let's do this.

"Dear T-Mobile" or "Diary of a Mad Black Texter" by Nicole

I took a big step this year.

A heavy texter from the get-go, I'd spent years doing it the old-fashioned way. Every time I got a new phone, the first thing I would do was go to Message Settings > Language > T-9 Prediction > OFF.

When I got my new slider phone this past December, I figured it was a good time to venture into the unknown. Sure, it was scary, it was unfamiliar, and I had no idea if it would be a success. But I did know this - my thumbs were fucking killing me.

I left my Samsung's settings alone and created my very first "T-9 Prediction ON" text.

It's been seven months now, and I'm glad I made the change. Texts take less time, and my rings fit again, which is great. The only qualm I have, really, with prediction is that, well - it's kind of a moron.

Every two texts I have to enter a word into my phone's lexicon that it doesn't know. It's starting to get annoying. Alas, that's the price you pay for convenience.

That said, here is my plea - if there are any LIOHI readers who happen to work for the T-Mobes, here's a list of words I use often that I implore you to add into the T-9 Prediction-ary.

exfoliant
facebook
Dunkin'
pissing
OMG
cankles
serio-comedy
slutty
bitches
slutty bitches
hot ass
makeup
FML
boob
fucking
frigging
shitting
pinot grigio



Thank you.

"Whose thong is this?" or "How to be an amazing ex-girlfriend without really trying" - by Nicole

There are few things in life I know I do very well, but besides mentioning the obvious things, like spelling, make-up application, and accessorizing, (not like that's all of them - come on, people, who do you think you're dealing with?) I can without hesitation say this - I am an amazing ex-girlfriend.

You'd be surprised how easy it is to be an AEG, and yet, so many ladies habitually get it wrong. Sure, break ups suck - whether you're the breaker or the breakee, it's just not a good time. Fret not, readers. LIOHI is here to help. Here's a step-by-step guide to mastering the art of getting lost.

1. Get Lost.
Do not (I repeat - DO NOT) remain Facebook, Myspace, or Twitter (gay) friends until the storm has passed. The last thing you want is to be tempted to check up on your ex - or their current relationship status. You're not going to see anything that you want to see, so lay off their page altogether. Save yourself the anxiety and delete, delete, delete. You can add them again later when you're really over it and/or dating a Swedish ski instructor (Sven, can you hear me?)

2. Leave Nothing Behind.
Ok, yes, it's miz to have to go over to his pad and pick up your Lady Gaga CD...wait. That's a bad example. No self-respecting LIOHI reader would leave The Fame at a bf's house. The point is - you will miss your CD/copy of The Secret/Pilates DVD and you DO want it back. Go get it! You do not want to have to think about him cuddled up on his futon with some slut watching YOUR season three of Family Guy! And while you're at it, return his Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. You never wanted that trash anyway.

3. Get Really Hot.
I bet you think #3 is all about revenge on your ex. It's not. This one is all about you. Go to the gym. Go for long walks. Stop eating. Whatever you need to do to KNOW that you are the hottest thing walking this apocolyptic-age earth, you do it! And if you happen to bump into him at Rite Aid while you're buying your twelfth Diet Coke of the day, so be it. While he walks away kicking himself, you will know that the rumble in your flat-as-shit stomach means one thing - victory.

4. No Trash Talking.
I know it's hard, people, but this one is key. The more you go around spewing venom to people, the greater the chances that it will get back to your ex AND you will look like a Bitter Betty (or Bobby). Let's play it classy, shall we? The truth is, your ex did you a favor. You don't want to be with anoyne who doesn't want to be with you. Move on. Talk nice. Stop eating. You know the rules. You'll feel much more fabulous post-breakup if you keep all your hostility inside. To quote one of my favorite movies - "Feeling are like treasures, so bury them"...and stop eating.

5. Get. Lost.
This rule bears repeating. I mean it. You're not doing yourself any favors by being visible to your ex. And while I'm on the topic - delete their cell info too. This includes any pics of them in your phone. Seriously, why torture yourself? You'll need that memory space anyway so that you can take pictures of your ribs poking out of your vest.

I hope this how-to guide has been helpful. To keep these secrets to myself would be doing a disservice to my fellow man, woman...that sort of thing.

So be brave, love yourself, and know that there is someone out there as hot-ass as you who is just waiting to be all up in your business.

And hey - eat something. You're looking a little too Lindsay Lohan circa right now.

Hates it: "Where the hell have we been - The Sequel"

We have hit our Bi-Annual lull in inspiration, people.

Trust, no one hates it more than us.

Keep hope alive - we'll be blogging soon!

"You Can Tell Jesus The Bitch Is Back" or "HOT ASS of the Week: Weeds Season 5 Premiere" by Tregg

Don't get all crazy on me, bloggers.  I know the headline is a quote from Gossip Girl, but I feel it's semi-appropriate regardless.  

I LOVE this show.  I watched the first season via Showtime On Demand back in 2006 and didn't quite love it.  But I stumbled upon Season 3 and then ordered Showtime for Season 4 and was hooked.  Thanks to getting Season 2 on DVD for Christmas, I have successfully devoured every episode.  And much like a pothead, I am craving a new season like a big old cupcake.  Or something else that people who smoke a lot of marijuana like to eat while high.

I'm treading in unfamiliar territory here, people.  Sorry.

I know it is a gross oversimplification to say Weeds is about pot, but I still find it noteworthy that I love a show so much and hate marijuana so much.  

I was watching the Season 4 finale just a few minutes ago for the second time, and there were two scenes that basically highlighted why Mary-Louise Parker is a goddess.

The first scene is when she's taking a bath and Andy knocks on the door.  She doesn't flinch that she's topless even though he's got a huge chub for her.  Then she dangles her sex in front of him asking him to fill up the tub with bubbles for her so she can tell him all the trouble she's in.

I have to remember that trick.

The second is when she's ordering Silas a gift basket from her OnStar system at what appears to be 11:00pm, so I can't imagine why some place is open.

"'Dear Silas, If I never see you again, I've been murdered'...Don't write that.  'Dear Silas'..."

Not that I needed a reminder, but seeing that episode made me increasingly happy to see a new season start tomorrow night.  The dreadful abyss that is the television landscape will be dramatically rescued for at least the next few months.  Would it kill Showtime to have 22 episode seasons?  I'm sure everyone that works on the should wouldn't mind the extra money.

“Fash-Inspiration Du Jour: Rick James” or “How To Manage Adult ADD Without Really Trying” by Nicole

There are some things in this life one should dare not try to explain. Of course, there are people out there who refuse to leave things to the imagination…but I digress. For whatever reason, as of late, wearing a giant silver ring on every finger suddenly sounded like a fantastic idea.

I am now, and have always been, a creature of impulse. I didn’t even realize I had an impulsive personality until I met my friend, T (not Tregg). T possesses just about the most irrational and immediate behavior pattern I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. She acts quickly, whole-heartedly, and often without consideration of the alternatives.

…It’s like looking in a friggin’ mirror.

Luckily, I’ve managed to harness my impulsivity (read: raging ADD) in the workplace, but not in my personal life. And CERTAINLY not in my relationship with clothes (See post featuring Lady Gaga, below). In that aspect of my life, possessing the emotional restraint of a bunny rabbit has leant itself to a series of phases: there was The “I’m Only Going to Wear Dark Denim” Phase, The “No Outfit is Complete without a Cardigan” Phase, and, most recently The “One Can Never Have Too Much Black Sequins in Their Life” Phase.

In an attempt to exhibit some semblance of growth in my almost-mid-twenties, I’ve been making a concerted effort to act more shrewdly and cerebrally. But, there’s something about a naked left hand that I can no longer abide. I have no rationale to go on except that once your hair is long (like mine – thanks, you guys!), chandelier earrings can’t really be appreciated, and necklaces make me want to scratch my neck all day – and then hang myself.

Thus begins the “Silver ring on every finger RIP Rick James” phase.

…I give it a week.

"The Power of Parental Suggestion" by Tregg

This weekend my mom was in town helping me move to a new apartment. I love her dearly and knew her help would be invaluable. Because let's face it, if this blog didn't hate monotony, "Moving" would be the Sick Ass of The Week, every week.

Of course, the blessing of a parent's visit is that they'll buy you stuff. Food, maybe some clothes or a tank of gas. But when you're moving and a parent visits, you can expect a lot more. Or at least if you're parents aren't tightwads.

So on her last day, my mom and I find ourselves at Target. Yes, Angelenos, that Target on La Brea and Santa Monica. As usual, even at 8:30, it was overrun with people. I would never go there that late without the deadline of my mealticket's, I mean mother's, departure to her home state looming within hours. Why would you run to Target on a Monday night? And why would you run there to get batteries and chocolate like the couple in front of me? Oh...

My mom knows a lot more about setting up a home to me, so bascially our shopping trip proved to be a lot of "Tregg, do you need _____?" "Sure, mom."

This is where the guilt comes in. I was trying to not be frivolous, but every time she suggested something, I realized how great it would be to buy that now rather than wait and get it later.

For example, shower cleaner. I definitely needed it, but sometimes I feel it is an unnecessary purchase since one only cleans his shower every so often. I can save some money by not buying that, right?

"Do you need some body wash?"
"...yes."

"How about fabric softener?"
"Yes"

"Distilled water for your iron?"
You guessed it, "Yes."

I feel like my mom could have sold me a broken VCR that night. I was powerless to say no to her, partly because she was right, and partly because I felt she'd be hurt if I said I didn't need something she suggested.

"Oh, look at this new laundry detergent scent."
"Mom, I don't need that."
"Why, you ungrateful little bastard!"

Or at least that's how I imagined it would go.

The moral of this story is, your mother is always right and knows everything. Listen to her advice. And she should probably sell real estate in this poor economy. I'd buy a condo from her.