R Place

Last night I went to R Place with a few of my friends. The following is a list of things I remember:

Dancing with the butt of a girl feels like lightly humping a moving pillow.

I feel like a bobblehead when I try to dance. Sometimes I also feel like this one ADD kid who couldn't sit still in my Kindergarten. It's less like dancing and more like looking like you have to go the bathroom.

I became transfixed by the gyrating underwear of one of the dancers and even when I looked away, I could still see his gyrating crotch. It danced in my brain the entire night, like a rolled up pair of socks.

I witnessed one girl trying to socialize with a group of people who did not want to talk to her. The whole time, the girl kept downing more and more of her drink, trying to feel more comfortable with what she was going through. She kept on trying to grab on to her friend's butt, but he kept shooing her away. Her eyes were completely transfixed on his butt. It was like, with every drink, the only thought was "Must Grab Butt" instead of "Must Make New Friends." It confused me.

There's something about being in a club that makes me suddenly realize I have a butt.

I only bent down once, semi-ironically, for Lilly. She barely humped me. She felt like a wall, like I was dancing alone with a wall. Down there, I looked for quarters. I just thought "I'm bored and might as well look for fallen change."

There's very little fallen change on the floor of R Place.

While reaching down to touch her toes, one girl lightly scratched me on the arm. It was like experiencing light foreplay with a stranger.

Liveblogging Dinner with Lindsey at Pies and Pints (UNSUCCESSFULLY)

PIES AND PINTS DOESN'T HAVE ACTUAL PIES. like with fruit and butter. just this meat crapola. it's like visiting a frozen yogurt shop and, oh, i don't know, being served yogurt with meat in it. Or regular yogurt. It's more than false advertising, it's lying.

I'm now sitting with Lindsey, my friend, who arrived hella late. She is studying the menu, knowing she will not be able to eat an actual dessert because Pies and Pints lies to their customers. She's wearing her dissapointed face. Her face makes me sad. Now she's casually scratching her nose. Now she's staring at the happy hour menu. Now she's staring at the actual menu. Now she's flipping her hair and looking away from me, annoyed. Now she just said "This is fun." Now she's really irritated with me. Now she asked me "are you typing what i'm saying now?" Now she's trying to close my laptop. Now she has closed my laptop. Now i'm experiencing an unfortunate feeling because i want to continue typing but I know she's really annoyed with me. Now I'm annoyed with me. Now I'm stopping. Now I just read what I just wrote to see if it was funny / revealing / representative of modern life. Now she's strumming her fingers against the table. Now this has reached a point of excess. Now I reaaallly should probably stop. OKAY. I'M STOPPING.

Now I'm back. Lindsey is talking to Daniel. Lindsey doesn't realize I'm trying to pay close attention to their conversation so I can type it down. Lindsey is not looking at me. Someone just walked by and said, loudly, "this is exciting!" I agree. I feel so covert. I am distancing myself from Lindsey by typing. Lindsey is going to hate me for this. Neither of them are saying anything interesting or noteworthy. The entire event is completely un-noteworthy. Now Lindsey is looking in my direction and making a very disappointed face. Now I am stopping.

The Sorrento = the New Kube Haunted House

I have to write up hotel listings now, which means I've been visiting a lot of hotel websites. Are you asleep now? I am.

Anyway, the Sorrento's website caught my eye- it seems like they're having some sort of problem with the site's flash which makes entire rooms light up, terrifyingly, like something out of the twighlight zone. Check it out.

OMG!

A Slog post I wrote has officially received...1231 comments! I'm famous!

What? Stop it.

I Love

Rosie To World: At Least I'm Better Than Hanging Out With Your Terrible Family

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So Rosie has a new show. But can anyone replace the image of her harried, tear-streaked face blogging every emotion in haiku on her blog and then yelling at her children on a cruise ship with this new image of her in a white fur robe surrounded by topless gay dudes? I'm having trouble.

Also- some people are natural one-eye blinkers, and some people are not. Rosie is not.

Kristin Wiig Excites Me! Sexually!? Maybe!

David Letterman reminds of the guy you meet at a party who can't remember your name or anything about you but pretends he does, and thinks it's really funny. Also, I love Kristin Wiig, but why isn't she funny here? Is it because actors and actresses don't actually have personalities and are malleable clay or whatever or was she just nervous?

In honor of Kristin Wiig, here's a video she's in called "The Engagement" where she plays a middle aged lady who can't contain her excitement or anxiety over her son's future wedding proposal:



(Don't you kind of want her to fall into the fish tank? Can they use fake glass for fish tanks? Of course they can! She should have fallen into the fish tank. Also- I used to think she was trying to channel the late gr8 Lorraine from MadTV but I was wrong. Kristen is something else entirely.)

And here she is as the "Just Kidding" lady:



She's really perfect at playing the self-conscious person who wants to sound more interesting than she actually is. See: penelope.



Haha, as if younger children are more manageable somehow. For some reason I failed to laugh once during that last video. Maybe Kristin Wiig's weird power over me is already beginning to wane. I hate when this happens. Damn it all to hell!

I'm in San Francisco Right Now

And every streetcorner smells like babypoop if you smell it for too long. does anyone else know what i'm talking about?

New Chow Bio

I interview a belly dancer.

Of Montreal

So yesterday I went to the Of Montreal concert at the Showbox in Sodo. By the way, this is not going to be a concert review. Just wanted to put that out there. I have zero interest in telling you what the concert was like and using words that will simultaneously alienate you and prove to you how much I know about music. Because I don't. Know anything. About music. Alls I know is that Of Montreal was weird. That's a word my generation uses when we don't know what to say about something but we want to appear mildly culturally competent. WEIRD. But Of Montreal WAS weird. It felt like a cultural moment of sorts. A cultural moment I couldn't, for the life of me, understand. There were all of these bears, and glitter, and suggested 69ing between bears wearing glitter. I don't know.

I was told, by a friend of mine, to go out and have FUN. FUN was capitalized in the text message, and I took this to mean: you do not usually have fun at things, so please, dear god, just try to have fun.

This felt very much like a moment. Kind of like the Backstreet Boys or something, but for hipsters. A moment where a band could do anything the fuck they wanted, and get a huge response out of people. Like, people were just willing to go there. Or at least, the kids at Northwest School were willing to go there. And yeah yeah, those kids are kind of adorable but they banged their heads into my side and that's not fun for me.

Sometimes I feel like I'd experience concerts in general differently if I lived in New York City. Here, the crowd was just trying too hard to enjoy themselves. It didn't feel honest. It felt forced. It felt like everyone had read a newspaper article about the concert and was trying to feel the way the journalist had felt about the concert.

The security were huge dicks to everyone, too. This I don't understand at all. Okay, you're security, you're very large people...shouldn't that be enough for you? Like, that's a lot to get off on here. You get to shine your flashlights in people's faces. You get to check stamps on people's wrists. You get to order people around. You don't have to frown. If you're sad, okay, go on and frown. But you're obviously not sad because I saw you laughing with that girl right before you frowned and stuck your flashlight into my retinas and barked at me.

All that being said, I do enjoy about four to five seconds of every Of Montreal song on the new CD. Sometimes I enjoy even more! But usually, just four to five seconds.