Cute Boy Alert!

Gatecrasher does not have any love for Andy's hotness.

Which "SNL"-er is living up to the show's storied history of drug abuse with a whole lot of blow at the all-night after-show parties?

Before you start professing that you are knocking 'em dead

After party following Film Premiere

Wore a short, skimpy frock and my mother's 1970s shit-brown Shaft coat that made all the boys go "eww". But a young woman really loved my pink and gold unicorn necklace.

Yummicoco: thanks! its from Boutique F21 (forever 21. shush!).

young woman: really?! it reminds of "The Last Unicorn". Do you remember that story?

no.

Then I talked to a man that hated working with Christine Vachon, my idol who drinks her coffee black and like cats and poll-o string cheese.

Man: I sat in a car with her while she bad-mouthed Todd Haynes! You don't do that to one of your directors!

yes, you do. or maybe I am just used to being abused at any place that I work?

As a stood close to a man chatting with his good filmmaker friend, I stuffed my mouth with crudites and overheard him talking about someone who was "adorable". Drunk off persecco, I leaned over to him suggesting that "he should go for it".

His response?

A wink.

I later realized that he was talking about a little girl that was silently reading her book while she waited for her media parent to stop networking.

Later, I summed up the movie that we saw to another person.

yummicoco: I guess everyone needs a daddy.

Don’t go too far now that you are just nostalgic for lost time

Went here last night for Valentine's Day. Bought Sax his and her's ping pong paddle set and a memo pad that reads "don't fuck this up" on top.

I received a black sheer something that made me feel like a Two Live Crew hoochie



Sax: So, lets go bone and then go play ping pong!

We are not so strange in the morning

I have been up since 4:30am. Technically, I have been up since 3:30 when Stella the cat crawled into bed with me, nestling herself against my chest.

Listened to psychedelic furs' "love my way" twice on my way to 30 Rock before my iPod told me to fuck off by shutting down. Maybe it was because I heard it at the screening for Starter for 10 last night. Set in the 80s, a girl in the film claimed to have lost her virginity to that song. I lost it just after watching Office Space. No music and he wasn't cool enough for that kind of elegant melody anyway.

so swallow all your tears my love and put on your new face. you could never win or lose if you don't run the race

I luv that line so much that I have probably blogged about it before but whatever.

In the video, Richard Butler's face emerges from sepia-colored clouds to deliver the line which reminds me of an article I read this morning, Faces, Faces Everywhere about how the brain recognizes and processes facial data.

So does that explain why I see my parents' faces in my cats--Because of the fact that my brain is bombarded with their stimuli that it continues to perceive that stimulus even when it is not present?

So we don't really see the face of Jesus in a pierogi?

Atheist fucker, Richard Dawkins is proven right again by the Science Times section!

My amenable nature was put to the test at the Tick Tock Diner at 6:30 this morning. What's a vegan who wears leather and loves fur to eat when everything is nothing but milk and eggs?

coffee, dry rye toast and oatmeal.

Not quite the makings of a Fugazi album title but damn near close.

What song would I have used if I lost my virginity to the soft-spoken, impeccably mannered Ralph Fiennes in a Qantas airplane?

"Whip in My Valese" by Adam and the Ants

Snickers bar, anyone? What more can I say, top billin'!

I think Gatecrasher is outing JC Chasez as a fag.

This morning, Gatecrasher also delivered a blind item that sucked fatty.

Which dead blond star was sleeping with both her Haitian bodyguard and a very well-known NYC mogul at the same time?

John Mayer looks like some kind of arabic knight that is going to sell me into prostitution in this picture.



Some people call me milk!

Ice-skated like it was 1987 at Prospect Park with Sax. Lazily drank hot bovine-laced chocolate while chomping on cinnamon-y (and eggs!) churros. Why? Because it was all free and I am a bad girl. Was terrified that a boogey-man or one of the homeless was going to slash our throats as we walked through the uber-desolate park but alas we survived.

Learned the art of Ping Pong yesterday before watching Rome.

Happy Monday!

I guess Queens is running this muthafucka and then Pop goes my heart!

It's almost 1:30am and way past my nerdy bedtime.

Go see Music and Lyrics! Supercute however not the best film. I hate when Drew clenches her teeth together to fake a New York accident but I luv Hugh Grant! To see him thrusting his pelvis, singing corny 80s songs just makes my heart go pitter patter.

Argued with Lex (but it's all good!) in the cab about where to get dropped off and finally agreed to take the car to Houston Street.

As I walk to the train, I spot my cousin's company van JPEG. He's hanging out on the Bowery and convinces me to stay out longer.

I enter the Remote Lounge on 2nd and Bowery.

Doorman: Yo, who you wit?

I tell him.

Doorman: Walk down there, make a right and go downstairs.

In the basement, it hits me, I have just walked into 8 Mile and everyone has on a puffy coat with the fur trim hood except for me.

Did you know that there is a south side and a north side of Queens?

While I wait for my cousin's artist Curse to perform, the hostess Playgirl (transcending all Bronx-Boriqua space and time in sequenced hoodie, tight jeans and pointy lace-up boots) announces that Wyze G is going to take the stage.

Wyze G, like the people's champ that he is, bum-rushes the stage rocking a black sweatjacket with his name emblazoned in gold on both sides of the hood. He is a super-star, playing up to the video cameras pointed so close to his face, spitting rhymes to the few ladies in the audience. He was good.

Then Curse was up.

Representing JPEG hard(!), Curse is a more subduded playa with a good flow. He's not about pomp and circumstance. In "Bring it Back", he stresses that Hip Hop is not dead.

Then I took a cab home and tucked Sax into bed.

Good night!

Check out my "Show and Tell" with Michael Showalter