Hello, I’m a Hipster, I’m Writing at Starbucks

What are YOU doing with your life? Yeah, me neither.

I find myself wondering — how did I get here? I hate hipsters. And yet here I am.

And if it could happen to me, it could happen to you.

It’s Sunday.  Brooke went to her first Bikram class in like 3 weeks and almost died; then she came back and claimed she was never drinking or eating ice cream ever again.  I very quickly realized I needed to get the fuck out of the apartment.

I’ve been finding my life as a housecat less than fulfilling lately.  I haven’t had a modeling gig in a while; I’m too lazy to work on my book; I just lick myself all day, stare at birds out the window and occasionally beat up the other cats.  I’m making it my new mission to keep this blog updated, overtake Perez Hilton and become the richest and most famous cat in the world.  I’ll do hard-hitting interviews.  I’ll become the world’s leading literary critic.  I’ll be able to buy more random overpriced shit from J Crew.

Anyway.  I hate myself.

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Classic

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Food for Thought

Anyone know what this is?

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What’s Oscar Watching

True Blood and Entourage

Well, well, what can I say: thought Brooke was going to jump out the window not once but twice during this episode (the very beginning and the very end, obviously, for those of you who don’t live with a woman).  Unfortunately, that didn’t come true.  As gratifying as the Sookie-Eric Hookup apparently seemed to be for the women of the world, can’t we all just be honest and say that we want Asshole Eric to come back so she can hurry up and hookup with him?  Perhaps while Asshole Eric is in transit, she could hook up with Alcide in the meantime?  

—I’m disappointed in the lack of were-panthers in this episode….they are, for me, obviously a highlight of the show.  

—Is there ANYONE who actually cares about Tara?  Can’t we just get rid of Tara completely? Let’s have a were-panther eat her.

—For those of you who haven’t figured it out yet, the entire season’s plotline is essentially about PMS.  Some call it “witchcraft;” Marnie seems to call it “a spirit;” the name of the PMS character is “Antonia.”  But the jist of it is, the witches become possessed and go batshit crazy every now and then.  Welcome to my life.

ENTOURAGE

Every single time I watch this show, without fail, I ask myself: WHY THE FUCK AM I WATCHING THIS STUPID FUCKING SHOW.  I actually get dumber every time I watch it.  This show is the mental equivalent of playing DuckHunt for 8 hours.  And yet, I watch it every single time, every single season.  Fuck my fucking life.

—Nobody believes that Turtle would ever be dating that girl, or that the tequila company is real.  They put coke in that tequila.  HELLO.

—Nobody believes that E was ever dating Sloane, or that Sloane could possibly exist in real life.

—Drama continues to be the only reason this show is worth watching remotely amusing thing on this show, supplemented by Scott “Sonny Corleone Jr” Lavin.

—Vince.  Oh Vince.  I really should have your part. And I hope you meet a were-panther.

Morning Read

I already have a headache

Good morning.  I overslept.  Let’s just get this over with:

—if you’ve ever read anything in your entire life, read this article.

Depressing but probably true.  You’re all fucked.

Depressing.  You’re all fucked for sure with this one.

Fascinating.  John Yossarian, anyone?

—Speaking of wars, I just finished this and it’s incredible.  Everyone should read it.

You complete me.

Oscar’s Morning Read

Screw Lion; welcome to Mac OS X OSCAR

Let me also extend a special thank you, yet again, to the NYT for this:

Assholes.

Anyway, enjoy my last three remaining articles this month:

Captain America review.

Hilarious article on reach people and their (actual) playhouses.  Here’s my favorite part:

— Andrea Peyser calls Harry Potter “the most sexist story ever told.” Right. Hasn’t she seen Transformers?

Anyway. I need to go lick myself for a while.  Enjoy the heat, kitties!

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For my suburban readers

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Oscar’s Morning Read

Brooke fucked up her neck and can’t work out or sleep, so the computer is miiiine!

Long time no see, kitties — naturally all Brooke’s fault — though I have been tweeting rather frequently since I upgraded to an iPhone, which fortunately does not require opposable thumbs.

I, obviously, am as beautiful as ever.

A few quick thoughts for your morning read:

Damages is the best show on TV right now and like all incredible shows, it has shitty ratings because the average American TV viewer is a fucking idiot.  WATCH DAMAGES, and do yourself a favor and watch the first three seasons too.  While we’re discussing TV, let me update you on the other shows on TV that you should watch:

Michelle Bachmann is completely fucking insane, but not for the reason you think (this time). This time she’s claiming that migraines wouldn’t affect her “performance” as President (hypothetically) — which, now that I think about it, might actually be true. Migraines are completely, uncontrollably incapacitating. After taking a copious amount of drugs to get rid of the pain, you are then incapacitated by the copious amounts of drugs. Which now leads me to believe she was telling the truth: there would likely be no difference between a fully functioning Michelle Bachmann and one completely incapacitated by a migraine and/or copious amounts of drugs.

—I finally caught up with Pale Male, who I was interviewing for my upcoming children’s book.  Apologies for the poor-quality photo; he could easily have eaten me and I didn’t want to risk it:

Well, that’s it for today, kitties.  Have a good one and check back later now that I’ve got my groove back.

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Special Friend Murder Attempt #824

Method: Suffocation

Amusing

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