My Eyes!

Have I ever told you just how much I loathe looking at Chloe Sevigny? Because I do. Everything from her greasy hair to her dead eyes and smug mouth that turns upward as if to say "I know I look totally bitchin' in this dress so you don't have to say anything".

Where are the missing pieces from that dress that should theoretically cover your love canal? Why are there even photos of you on the internet at all? The dog from Full House had more on-screen chemistry than you. Your most infamous movie role can now be considered a derogatory statement, as in: You're a filthy Brown Bunny.

Please, for the love of all things sacred in this world, just go away.

Train Wreck

Just thought I'd post a photo dipicting the downward spiral of career suicide that is Jessica Simpson, shown with the new Simpson the Slightly Better, Yet Still Retarded.

**Make sure to click on the photo to enlarge it**

Blogging While You Work

Going round the table from left to right at this morning's meeting:

J1: I drove into the city with him this morning. He plied me with a medium Dunkin' Donuts Hazelnut so before we even hit the 39th St. exit from FDR Drive I was rocking in my seat trying to squeeze myself shut, lest I let go on his leather seats. Lucky me; he doesn't know Broadway is a one-way and now we have to go up to 8th Ave. before crossing down. I jumped out of his car at the next light, ran into a cafe and begged to use their restroom. I walked back 4 blocks to the office. It was the happiest walk I've ever taken.

JFem: I didn't know it was dress-down day, honey.

LarryB: Asian. Bad teeth, bad haircut, bad suit. How did you get this job? There is only one explanation: your boss digs gaysians.

LarryS: White. Nice tie, is it clip-on? Are you even old enough to shave?

Aussie: If I close my eyes while you speak, it's not half as bad. G'day!

J2: Please don't embarrass me by adopting your Guinea-ese from Westchester County or I'll kill you after our clients leave.

J3: How many more croissants are you going to eat?? Seriously, 3 is a record.

Coming To Terms

Whilst living in Bucharest for two years (2000-2002) I learned how to weave traditional fruit bowls out of bulgar wheat grass, while singing old nursery rhymes to keep the rhythm of the actual weaving movements. After three cadences of "Mary Had A Little Lamb", I would be surprised to look down at my progress and see a nearly completed basket frame.

Of course, I'm completely lying. I've yet to travel to Bucharest (though it is on my "to-do" list). I don't know how to weave baskets, nor do I know if there is such a thing as bulgar wheat grass or if it's one of Bucharest's crops. Do they even have crops? I'm not even completely sure I used "cadences" in the correct form.

But this lends to an interesting topic: at dinner parties, who can you trust? More importantly, how many people could I fool with this story? Because that would definitely entertain me more than hearing about the latest Dan Brown novel everyone tells me I have to read.

You'll Laugh. You'll Cry.

No, it's not this season's critically acclaimed romantic comedy starring Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock (because, let's face it, they were great together in Two Weeks' Notice and I've never seen another genre of movie with one of them in it and if you mention Speed I'll have to kill you because obviously, it was a comedy).

I'm talking about PMS.

This Saturday saw me crying like a baby while watching (for the 20th time) Audrey Tautou in Amelie. It made me think about how wonderful love is and how I should appreciate it more often. Then love walked in the door; I proceeded to act cold and blamed him for my mood-inspired breakfast of 2 pieces of toast with butter, 2 chocolate chip cookies and a handful of potato chips.

Two hours later I'm in love again. Especially when he washes the dishes; isn't that so sweet? It's very sexy, a man doing household chores. So sexy in fact, that a strip tease is in order to let him know exactly how appreciative of him I am. However, at some point I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in all my naked-from-the-waist-up glory. When I lean over a bit, my breasts kind of resemble something very unsexy.

"Why haven't you ever told me I have udders?!" I ask a man who suddenly looks part "deer-in-the-headlights" and part agonizing blue balls.

Somewhere between retaining water and a dinner party at which I find out James Taylor's son is a pedophile (that's a whole other story), my hormones finally level out and I remind myself that in some African tribes sagging breasts are a sign of royalty. Or something like that.

I'm Not Dead, Just Really Busy

Work is insane and I'm not liking it right now. Seriously...job offers pour forth. *Ahem...Page Six...cough, cough*

I'll write when I have a chance/I'm in a better mood/Britney accidentally kills one of her children.

In the meantime, check out Ghetto Bitch. I like them.

The Results Are In

Last week's question, "What type of person could you never date/marry?" yielded some promising answers. Let's take a look see.

"I could never marry a girl." - Puff, New York, NY

"I could never marry a girl either. But I would never marry someone with halitosis." - Keisha w/an i

"I could never date someone who spent the ten minutes after eating a meal trying to suck pieces of food out of his teeth. It’s called dental floss, man!" - Rachel, San Francisco, CA

"I could never date a man who wore eyeliner." - Anon.

"I could never date a man who shaved his arms." - Amanda, CT

"I could never marry a woman who can bench press me." - Jeff, Seattle

"I could never (again) date a person who eats liverwurst every single day for lunch." - Rob, VA

Not bad...but do you notice how only ONE of my regular readers chimed in? Make it up to me. You don't want to piss off someone with omnipotence, like me. I'm also drop dead gorgeous and have a PhD in Sexy.

Paris Hilton Arrested

Dear God,

I'm sorry I said you didn't exist. Obviously, with Paris Hilton's recent arrest for DUI, you're trying to tell me I'm a lost little sheep, and I should come home. Thank you, God. I'm sorry again for doubting you.

Also, I would like a pink My Little Pony complete with brush set for Christmas this year.

-Min

*Picture of Paris crying after being denied entrance to popular night club Bungalow 8 in NYC last Thursday.

Suri Cruise Is Asian

I don't want to start rumors, or anything, but could the fact that it took 5 months for Katie and Tom to show pictures of their baby be because they were waiting for her to clear Customs?

I'm just saying...

Vanity Fair Is Punny

Although I was initially disappointed that Suri Cruise didn't look like a mutant, I've dealt with it and now conclude that Suri really is quite lovely.

Let this be a lesson to all that test tube babies are people, too. Ha! See what I did there!? I made it sound like Suri is a test tube baby. Because Tom is gay!

Dear Hollywood High

Starlets, meet Scarlett. She'll be prettier than you no matter how much plastic surgery you undergo, and she'll get parts over you no matter how many producers you screw.

Why she sleeps with a man with one long eyebrow when she could sit on a shelf at my house is beyond me. I mean, I'd feed her and stuff. I'd brush her hair. The masking tape is just so she doesn't call the police. Again.

Told You

John Travolta - gay.

One Scientologist down, one to go.

I Didn't See That Coming

Steve Irwin, "The Crocodile Hunter", was killed in a "freak accident", when a sting ray stabbed its barbed tail into the famed nature conservationist's heart. He was filming a documentary about the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Australia; the death was caught on camera and the tape is currently in the possession of police. Though he dangled his baby in front of a giant crocodile as part of a demonstration at his ranch, I think God took it a little too seriously. I mean, Paris Hilton has infected hundreds of people with STD's, and she's still alive.

Welcome Back

I must apologize for the lack of posts last week; I was dreadfully ill. Suffice to say I had little intake of food, yet an overabundant output of the stuff for nearly 6 days. As for the lack of posts the week prior to that, well...when have I ever apologized for apathy?

I decided that I needed to get my reader's involved somehow in my blog, and so I will post a weekly discussion on Mondays, and display the results on the following Fridays. E-mail your thoughts to cynicforhire@hotmail.com.

This week's question:

What type of person could you never date/marry?

Ex: I could never date/marry a person who drove an orange VW bus.