Hey bitches, Happy Thanksgiving! Or, as my fans refer to it, "Giving thanks for Jillian Day". No, this isn't just more of my usual narcissism. The glorious day of my birth falls on Thanksgiving every 7 years and, although my birthday is Sunday this year, a permanent name change for the holiday is still fitting.
So this year, while you're gorging yourself with the bounty of the season, I want you to think about me and give thanks for all the entertainment I provide to brighten your pathetic lives. When your corniest relative suggests you all go around the table to say what you're most thankful for this year, say "Jillian the Devil!" Then whip out your laptop and share my antics with the whole family.
To further reiterate how much I mean to you, here is a recent tidbit from my ridiculous life. A little story I like to call:
Jillian Gay-Bashes a Stranger
A few weeks ago, I was in Lakeview near where one of my friends lives. I saw this guy across the street, sort of from the back and the side, and I was certain it was Dave. So I yell "Dave!" a few times, and he doesn't turn around. I figured he just didn't hear me but the resemblance (from my vantage) was uncanny, so I crossed the street to chat with him.
Now, Dave is one of those gays, so I thought it would be funny to go up behind him, punch him in the shoulder and yell "Hey faggot!!". Well, it wasn't Dave. I gay-bashed a complete stranger. The guy looked shocked, I probably did too, and I proceeded to apologize profusely while attempting to be charming.
Any reasonable hetero would take this as a convenient opportunity to chat up a pretty girl or, at the least, laugh it off and go on with his day. After I explained why exactly I had gone up to ANYONE and hit them whilst yelling "hey faggot", this guy wailed at me "You think I look gay?!?" I was shocked and tried my hardest to fumble out an explanation along the lines of "I thought you looked like my friend, who is gay. But he doesn't look gay, everybody says so, he actually looks very manly...". There was far more rambling than that, but all of it was completely INEFFECTIVE. He looked like he wanted to kill me, reiterated how he is not gay several more times, turned on a heel and huffed away, leaving me standing on the sidewalk feeling like the biggest asshole ever.
I related this story to Dave and, after nearly hyperventilating from laughter, he said "that guy was definitely gay".
Have a great holiday, everybody!
Also, for you wacky characters planning on some marathon drinking tonight, please be careful and do not drink and drive. Aside from the swarms of police on the road and traffic checkpoints, it's extremely dangerous. Not for the drunk asshole driving typically - alcohol relaxes muscles and reaction times, so the lushes usually walk away with minimal damage from a crash. It's other people who get hurt, so don't fucking do it. If I find out you have, I'll be forced to give you a stern talking to. Of course, by "stern talking to", I mean I'll break your kneecaps.
Email me at jillianthedevil@hotmail.com to find out where to send birthday gifts,
Jillian!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
My Favorite Holiday
I'm sure it will come as no surprise that Halloween is, hands down, my favorite holiday of the year. I love costumes and candy, what could possibly be better? NOTHING, that's what.
My hot bitch, David, is throwing a Halloween fete this year. I usually do so myself, but with all the prep required to throw a proper themed party....ack, it's a lot of work. Plus, I have new exciting prosthetics to apply this year, and I'm always in the bathroom trying to get my horns right as guests are arriving. Naturally, I'm going as the devil. Yes, I go as the devil every year - it's only right - but I switch it up. And my take on the theme is pretty fucking good.
Last year, I had several parties to attend and I did both Green Devil and Purple Devil, with the new super-size horns. Of course, as many of you witnessed, the super-size horns were not without their problems. I only have so much forehead (I'm not Tyra Banks here) and the gluing/putty process took off a good 1/4 inch off my right eyebrow. It grew back, but I'm aiming to keep my eyebrows intact this year as well as any hair on the side of my head when I apply the very exciting evil pointy ears. Keep your fingers crossed for my success in this endeavor.
Anyhoo, young David is adorable and quaint. So much so that he is scheduling all sorts of amusing activities for his drunk and ridiculous friends. There will be a costume contest, apple bobbing, and a pumpkin carving contest. Our friends are all both highly creative and amazingly offensive, so I think my chances of winning the costume contest are pretty slim. My facial prosthetics probably won't hold up well to apple bobbing, not to mention hair and makeup, so that's out. which leaves us with....pumpkin carving.
David was over last night, having a few beers and watching Sanford and Son on my sofa. We got to chatting about party preparation and I mentioned a few photos I had emailed him, one of which happened to be a pumpkin bong. Much giggling ensued and Dave said that if I manage to make a successful bong out of a pumpkin for the contest, I will totally win. Unfair advantage? Yes, but I don't care. I want to win, and if this is what it takes, so be it.
A little digression on the practice of making homemade bongs
If you've been to college, you know that bongs can be made out of nearly anything. Not that there is a class taught on such things, it's just a typical proclivity for college kids to imagine such possibilities. I consider this a reasonable creative endeavor; it integrates engineering and critical problem-solving techniques, makes you use your noodle. Then you smoke the reefer and kill all those brain cells you were using in the first place. In college, we made bongs out of apples, plastic bottles, a carefully drilled glass jar, and various plastic toys. The only thing I found that you couldn't make a bong out of what grey stoneware, as the bong I sculpted in Ceramics class was tossed in the garbage before firing (haters! I certainly hadn't expected that in an art class, and the whole ceramics operation was run from a hallowed out IHOP across the street from the campus proper).
My point is that it can definitely be done, but how to do it? I admit: it's been a while since I took on a project of this sort. The internet is a good place to start and, wouldn't ya know, there are 245,000 hits when you use "pumpkin bong" as a search term. Huh. Honestly, I hadn't expected that. Those college kids have been busy, but their declining GPAs will result in my taking home the pumpkin carving title. So kudos to them, and I need to go rifle through the basement for parts.
So, my funky little monkeys, I wish you an evil Halloween. And if you want to make a pumpkin "water pipe" of your very own, here ya go:
http://www.instructables.com/file/F73DJOMF82EXLAT/
Don't say I never did nothin' for you.
Trick or Treat, Smell my Feet!
Jillian the Devil
My hot bitch, David, is throwing a Halloween fete this year. I usually do so myself, but with all the prep required to throw a proper themed party....ack, it's a lot of work. Plus, I have new exciting prosthetics to apply this year, and I'm always in the bathroom trying to get my horns right as guests are arriving. Naturally, I'm going as the devil. Yes, I go as the devil every year - it's only right - but I switch it up. And my take on the theme is pretty fucking good.
Last year, I had several parties to attend and I did both Green Devil and Purple Devil, with the new super-size horns. Of course, as many of you witnessed, the super-size horns were not without their problems. I only have so much forehead (I'm not Tyra Banks here) and the gluing/putty process took off a good 1/4 inch off my right eyebrow. It grew back, but I'm aiming to keep my eyebrows intact this year as well as any hair on the side of my head when I apply the very exciting evil pointy ears. Keep your fingers crossed for my success in this endeavor.
Anyhoo, young David is adorable and quaint. So much so that he is scheduling all sorts of amusing activities for his drunk and ridiculous friends. There will be a costume contest, apple bobbing, and a pumpkin carving contest. Our friends are all both highly creative and amazingly offensive, so I think my chances of winning the costume contest are pretty slim. My facial prosthetics probably won't hold up well to apple bobbing, not to mention hair and makeup, so that's out. which leaves us with....pumpkin carving.
David was over last night, having a few beers and watching Sanford and Son on my sofa. We got to chatting about party preparation and I mentioned a few photos I had emailed him, one of which happened to be a pumpkin bong. Much giggling ensued and Dave said that if I manage to make a successful bong out of a pumpkin for the contest, I will totally win. Unfair advantage? Yes, but I don't care. I want to win, and if this is what it takes, so be it.
A little digression on the practice of making homemade bongs
If you've been to college, you know that bongs can be made out of nearly anything. Not that there is a class taught on such things, it's just a typical proclivity for college kids to imagine such possibilities. I consider this a reasonable creative endeavor; it integrates engineering and critical problem-solving techniques, makes you use your noodle. Then you smoke the reefer and kill all those brain cells you were using in the first place. In college, we made bongs out of apples, plastic bottles, a carefully drilled glass jar, and various plastic toys. The only thing I found that you couldn't make a bong out of what grey stoneware, as the bong I sculpted in Ceramics class was tossed in the garbage before firing (haters! I certainly hadn't expected that in an art class, and the whole ceramics operation was run from a hallowed out IHOP across the street from the campus proper).
My point is that it can definitely be done, but how to do it? I admit: it's been a while since I took on a project of this sort. The internet is a good place to start and, wouldn't ya know, there are 245,000 hits when you use "pumpkin bong" as a search term. Huh. Honestly, I hadn't expected that. Those college kids have been busy, but their declining GPAs will result in my taking home the pumpkin carving title. So kudos to them, and I need to go rifle through the basement for parts.
So, my funky little monkeys, I wish you an evil Halloween. And if you want to make a pumpkin "water pipe" of your very own, here ya go:
http://www.instructables.com/file/F73DJOMF82EXLAT/
Don't say I never did nothin' for you.
Trick or Treat, Smell my Feet!
Jillian the Devil
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
What's for dinner? A lamb of God.
Sometimes I like to aggravate people just for aggravation's sake. And by people, I mean Christians.
Please don't misinterpret me on this point, I have nothing against Christians other than they seem to take every opportunity to annoy the shit out of me. I'm speaking, naturally, of their tendency to live in a vacuum and be outrageously offensive to people of any other religion. They also have trouble taking a joke and they absolutely shit themselves should you dare speak against Christianity. Basically, they're asking for it and far be it for me to deny them.
I also hate chain letters. Seriously folks, is it 1998? I'll answer that for you: it is not 1998, so knock it off with the chain letters. So I got a fucking CHRISTIAN CHAIN LETTER yesterday from a friend of mine, which I merely ignored because she is a friend and my annoyance threshhold for friends is much higher than for the general public. THEN, one of her friends sent me the same damn Christian motherfucking chain letter back. It was necessary to take action.
Here's the original (annotated) chain letter:
Hi - I am picking 11 people who have touched my life and who I think
would want to receive this. Please send it back to me (You'll see why).
In case you are not aware, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love.
She is represented by roses. May everyone who receives this message be blessed.
Theresa's Prayer cannot be deleted.
REMEMBER to make a wish before you read the prayer . That's all you have to do.
There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the fourth day.
Sorry you have to forward the message, but try not to break this, please.
Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. Read the prayer below. &nb sp;
Saint Theresa's Prayer
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
Now, send this to 11 people within the next 5 minutes. And remember to send this back. I count as 1...you'll see why.
Fucking disgusting, right? There was also a picture of Mother Theresa and the old Pope, just in case I was annoyed enough with the text. Additionally, how fucking trite is it to send a damn Christian chain letter addressed to someone who has touched your life and you think would want to receive this to a stranger. Additionally, it's a chain letter and no one ever wants to receive that shit, Christian or not. Considering, I didn't feel to bad baiting this particular Christian for my own amusement. Yeah, I'm a dick, but I've been saying that all along.
My response:
Hey Jackass (also known as "Timothy Biars"),
I don't know you and you don't know me, but allow me to make something entirely clear: I am not a nice person. I can only assume that you copied my email address from the original chain letter that Erica forwarded me, so you could then forward it along to however many people so the pope or Mother Theresa could grant your 3 wishes - or whatever it is that you Christian imbeciles are believing in this week. I am not a Christian and I'm highly offended by you motherfuckers hurling your ridiculous god-jesus-pope bullshit in my direction. I tolerate this crap from Erica because we're long time friends and I'm rather fond of the girl. That is not your case, however. I can only imagine you didn't expect such vitriol in response, but alas:
Fuck the Pope
Fuck Mother Theresa
Fuck Impressionable Idiots that send chain letters
Fuck Christians
And Fuck you.
With the utmost sincerity,
Jillian
P.S. I hope you don't plan to breed.
And then I eagerly awaited the bile-filled tirade from my new Christian buddy. It's absolutely brilliant how out of sorts Christians get when anyone chances to attack their chosen beliefs, even in such an admittedly lame fashion. Fuck the Pope? Really, you Christians are too damn easy. Unfortunately, a good many Christians didn't pay enough attention in elementary school and it's evidenced in their debate tactics (and grammar and spelling, eek!).
Tim's rebuttal:
Personally, my favorite part is "blabby". I don't think I've ever heard that before.
I could go into a rant about what ignorant degenerates Christians are, but that's too easy yet. I think it would be much more fun to get a little Pop Psychology 101 on young Tim's eomtional and highly personal tirade. Here you go, I call this one
Tim Biar's Brain in a Jar
1.) Young Tim feels he doesn't receive as much attention and esteem as he deserves, as evidenced by the first section. He makes a point of mentioning that I do, in fact, know him and that we used to hang out. Still don't remember the guy, but he obviously feels slighted by being forgotten and it colors the rest of his letter.
2.) Tim is also quite an insecure individual, as he chooses to mention a few particular qualities: weight, attractiveness, intelligence, and attention-seeking. Now if you know me, you know I'm not insecure. Quite the opposite as many people I know will, no doubt, be happy to mention. So who's insecurities is he aiming at? His own, of course. As people are wont to do, he believes that the things that bother him also bother everyone else. He's got me pegged on the attention-seeking, but it's something I indulge rather than feel bad about. Of course, no one with eyes would call me fat or unattractive, and I hope my flair for the written word is evidence of my intelligence. So who's the dumb, ugly fatty?
I didn't alter anything he wrote in the letter above, so you can tell we're not dealing with a brain trust here. What is the deal with the etcetera marks in between a million sentence fragments? Good grief, coupled with the spelling issues, this is about 4th grade level reading and composition skills. Ouch.
Additionally, I spent a big 2 minutes researching our friend Tim here, and I managed to pull up some photos. Ahem....somebody is a little Fatthew, if you know what I'm saying. And frankly, the looks are not there. They just aren't. It's just plain jerky to make fun of someone's weight (yes, even a bit too jerky for me), so I resisted the impulse to write back "Hey idiot, you are the last damn person to be taking anyone's weight to task". And people can't help if they're ugly, but that's not a big deal if the personality is good. Unfortunately for Tim...
After reading the letter, mostly I just felt a lot of pity. I know I'll probably hear back from a few people about how this boy is being really hateful to women in addition to being another person giving Christianity a bad name. It's a dumb, unattractive, pudgy and exceptionally bitter guy -- and even I draw the line at kicking people when they're down.
So I let him in on the joke that was only ever funny to me in the first place:
Ha! That kicked ass, thanks. This is going on my blog, google yourself later.
I must admit that was I baiting you intentionally and, no, I don't remember you (although I can't say I'm disappointed about that). I'd say something to aggravate you further, but you've obviously got enough problems. And for the love of everything you claim to believe in, work on the grammar and spelling - it's appalling.
Godless Heathen
As you can see, it's not actually a nice response. However, it's a lot better than he deserved, considering, and I can indulge in a bit of that self-righteousness the Christians are so fond of. Now, what would you do in this case? I's honestly be a little pissed that I was made to be the butt of a joke and that my ignorance would be placed in a forum for public ridicule, as I told him I planned to do. What did he do?
He backpedaled like he was about to bike off a damn cliff:
-repenting bastard
And he apologizes. That just kills me. My powers of evil coercion shock me sometimes.
Right now the score is Jesus - 0, Jillian - 1
It's Osso Bucco on the menu tonight,
The Devil
[UPDATE: It's come to my attention that googling my churchy buddy's name doesn't pull this post up. Dammit, that takes the fun out of it. So here goes - Tim Biars Timothy Biars T. Biars. that should do it. Carry on.]
Please don't misinterpret me on this point, I have nothing against Christians other than they seem to take every opportunity to annoy the shit out of me. I'm speaking, naturally, of their tendency to live in a vacuum and be outrageously offensive to people of any other religion. They also have trouble taking a joke and they absolutely shit themselves should you dare speak against Christianity. Basically, they're asking for it and far be it for me to deny them.
I also hate chain letters. Seriously folks, is it 1998? I'll answer that for you: it is not 1998, so knock it off with the chain letters. So I got a fucking CHRISTIAN CHAIN LETTER yesterday from a friend of mine, which I merely ignored because she is a friend and my annoyance threshhold for friends is much higher than for the general public. THEN, one of her friends sent me the same damn Christian motherfucking chain letter back. It was necessary to take action.
Here's the original (annotated) chain letter:
Hi - I am picking 11 people who have touched my life and who I think
would want to receive this. Please send it back to me (You'll see why).
In case you are not aware, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love.
She is represented by roses. May everyone who receives this message be blessed.
Theresa's Prayer cannot be deleted.
REMEMBER to make a wish before you read the prayer . That's all you have to do.
There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the fourth day.
Sorry you have to forward the message, but try not to break this, please.
Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. Read the prayer below. &nb sp;
Saint Theresa's Prayer
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
Now, send this to 11 people within the next 5 minutes. And remember to send this back. I count as 1...you'll see why.
Fucking disgusting, right? There was also a picture of Mother Theresa and the old Pope, just in case I was annoyed enough with the text. Additionally, how fucking trite is it to send a damn Christian chain letter addressed to someone who has touched your life and you think would want to receive this to a stranger. Additionally, it's a chain letter and no one ever wants to receive that shit, Christian or not. Considering, I didn't feel to bad baiting this particular Christian for my own amusement. Yeah, I'm a dick, but I've been saying that all along.
My response:
Hey Jackass (also known as "Timothy Biars"),
I don't know you and you don't know me, but allow me to make something entirely clear: I am not a nice person. I can only assume that you copied my email address from the original chain letter that Erica forwarded me, so you could then forward it along to however many people so the pope or Mother Theresa could grant your 3 wishes - or whatever it is that you Christian imbeciles are believing in this week. I am not a Christian and I'm highly offended by you motherfuckers hurling your ridiculous god-jesus-pope bullshit in my direction. I tolerate this crap from Erica because we're long time friends and I'm rather fond of the girl. That is not your case, however. I can only imagine you didn't expect such vitriol in response, but alas:
Fuck the Pope
Fuck Mother Theresa
Fuck Impressionable Idiots that send chain letters
Fuck Christians
And Fuck you.
With the utmost sincerity,
Jillian
P.S. I hope you don't plan to breed.
And then I eagerly awaited the bile-filled tirade from my new Christian buddy. It's absolutely brilliant how out of sorts Christians get when anyone chances to attack their chosen beliefs, even in such an admittedly lame fashion. Fuck the Pope? Really, you Christians are too damn easy. Unfortunately, a good many Christians didn't pay enough attention in elementary school and it's evidenced in their debate tactics (and grammar and spelling, eek!).
Tim's rebuttal:
1st of all whoa.......it was an accident 2ndly...and for the record you do know me! i am sure you dont remember how me my friend mike and erica all hung out with you...
lastly...fuck you?
real mature of you...what should any one expect anything less from a god less heathen who needs saving...a simple no thank you would have been suffice...i dont expect any thing less from a blabby two ton chunk ass like you...no one forced there beliefs on you...just simply wished you well...wich seems like you dont want...and you are more than likely not happy and take a nice thought... even though unintentional and tell a person fuck off...so if this is your way of having fun...fuck off back at ya tank ass...lol
so you tolerate your friends huh? you put up with them rather than accept them as who they are...guess its to be expected from someone who is used to feeling insecure...guess your friendships must be really great ya douch bag. well...i may be christian...but your fat and ugly...lol...thats something no one can change...not even god...mother teresa...the pope or liposuction facelifts tummy tucks and tons of money...none of that can help your sorry ass...normally i laugh at things like this and carry on...but you are special...special in a mild retarded...fat...smelly and ugly kind of special that requires special attention in these matters...i'm sure you get your jollies from crap like this so feel free to email away in between stuffing your fat face tank ass...
so the next time you decide to mouth off to someone who knows you and you are to stupid to remember...just remember this converstation...wait...i cant expect that from a IDIOT! i am sure most of your life is a blurr...to busy being stupid to apprecieate the beauty of life and what it has to offer...like faith...good eating habits and style...OH and most importantly...you have no class fat ass...so the next time your fat ass steps on the scale of life it will read...to be continued...lol
you stupid cunt...enjoy...you chunky fat bag of nasty...feel free to email me when you get desparate for attention...wich should be the rest of you life...
oh and "alas"
"if fat and ugly was a sin you would go straight to hell"
p.s. Jesus loves you...but i think your're a cunt ^__^
Personally, my favorite part is "blabby". I don't think I've ever heard that before.
I could go into a rant about what ignorant degenerates Christians are, but that's too easy yet. I think it would be much more fun to get a little Pop Psychology 101 on young Tim's eomtional and highly personal tirade. Here you go, I call this one
Tim Biar's Brain in a Jar
1.) Young Tim feels he doesn't receive as much attention and esteem as he deserves, as evidenced by the first section. He makes a point of mentioning that I do, in fact, know him and that we used to hang out. Still don't remember the guy, but he obviously feels slighted by being forgotten and it colors the rest of his letter.
2.) Tim is also quite an insecure individual, as he chooses to mention a few particular qualities: weight, attractiveness, intelligence, and attention-seeking. Now if you know me, you know I'm not insecure. Quite the opposite as many people I know will, no doubt, be happy to mention. So who's insecurities is he aiming at? His own, of course. As people are wont to do, he believes that the things that bother him also bother everyone else. He's got me pegged on the attention-seeking, but it's something I indulge rather than feel bad about. Of course, no one with eyes would call me fat or unattractive, and I hope my flair for the written word is evidence of my intelligence. So who's the dumb, ugly fatty?
I didn't alter anything he wrote in the letter above, so you can tell we're not dealing with a brain trust here. What is the deal with the etcetera marks in between a million sentence fragments? Good grief, coupled with the spelling issues, this is about 4th grade level reading and composition skills. Ouch.
Additionally, I spent a big 2 minutes researching our friend Tim here, and I managed to pull up some photos. Ahem....somebody is a little Fatthew, if you know what I'm saying. And frankly, the looks are not there. They just aren't. It's just plain jerky to make fun of someone's weight (yes, even a bit too jerky for me), so I resisted the impulse to write back "Hey idiot, you are the last damn person to be taking anyone's weight to task". And people can't help if they're ugly, but that's not a big deal if the personality is good. Unfortunately for Tim...
After reading the letter, mostly I just felt a lot of pity. I know I'll probably hear back from a few people about how this boy is being really hateful to women in addition to being another person giving Christianity a bad name. It's a dumb, unattractive, pudgy and exceptionally bitter guy -- and even I draw the line at kicking people when they're down.
So I let him in on the joke that was only ever funny to me in the first place:
Ha! That kicked ass, thanks. This is going on my blog, google yourself later.
I must admit that was I baiting you intentionally and, no, I don't remember you (although I can't say I'm disappointed about that). I'd say something to aggravate you further, but you've obviously got enough problems. And for the love of everything you claim to believe in, work on the grammar and spelling - it's appalling.
Godless Heathen
As you can see, it's not actually a nice response. However, it's a lot better than he deserved, considering, and I can indulge in a bit of that self-righteousness the Christians are so fond of. Now, what would you do in this case? I's honestly be a little pissed that I was made to be the butt of a joke and that my ignorance would be placed in a forum for public ridicule, as I told him I planned to do. What did he do?
He backpedaled like he was about to bike off a damn cliff:
okay okay...lol...i have to admit your response was really more funny than agravating...however my comments were harsh and to that affect i would like to apologize and say i was wrong for responding like that. again i apologize for saying those things...i thought it was funny at the time but i realize that was just as childish...
and for the record my english is appalling...lol...good god ( and the devil in your case...j/k) i cant spell or put together a gramitical sentence to save my life...
any way...ha... i cant get this stupid smirk off my face...thanks for taking the mundane out of my day and the kick in the balls from life is painfull... but funny to watch... so jillian the devil as i recall our first conversation it was of debate and disgust in each others jokes wich made it even funnier...it looks like some people are who they are no matter what...in a good way i mean.
well next time you need to shit talk...talk trash or just fuck with some one....remember me please...it may seem sadistic but i think its great...it really was the funniest thing i read or heard all week..ha... this was so funny. hope nothing was taken personal and if it was...you probally have issues....j/k...or am i?
And he apologizes. That just kills me. My powers of evil coercion shock me sometimes.
Right now the score is Jesus - 0, Jillian - 1
It's Osso Bucco on the menu tonight,
The Devil
[UPDATE: It's come to my attention that googling my churchy buddy's name doesn't pull this post up. Dammit, that takes the fun out of it. So here goes - Tim Biars Timothy Biars T. Biars. that should do it. Carry on.]
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Who doesn't smoke crack every once in a while?
On occasion, I do take requests for blog topics. This is one such request:
THE PROBLEM WITH DATING, YOUNG MEN, SOCIETY, AND TECHNOLOGY
Granted, that's a pretty darn broad subject, but I do have a point here. Bear with me, there are some good stories thrown in as well. To begin:
I was chatting with my sister yesterday about our most recent dating foibles, and an important point came up. What the fuck is the deal with young men these days and their insane sense of entitlement? My sister and I are both lovely ladies with good brains and personality, and any man should be so fortunate as to receive our attentions. Why is it then that every fucking goon that takes a liking to us is shocked and appalled if we don't share the sentiment?
"But I like you so much!! Why shouldn't you just like me in turn because I want you?"
STORY TIME
So the sister goes out with this guy she met online (I know, I know, and I tried to tell her - but where do you meet people anyway?). I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone terribly here (ha!), so we'll call him Fatthew. He seems to have a decent personality and at least a few brain cells to rub together. On the other hand, he's weighing in at over 300 lbs. and he still lives with his exgirlfriend. Widget (also an alias) is not a shallow sort, so she can overlook a weight problem or some inconvenient living arrangements provided the personality and chemistry are there and dude isn't some raging psycho/racist/drug addict/basketcase. They go out.
Widget is lukewarm about the guy after the date, but considers seeing him again. She then leaves for a 4 day business trip and returns home to be completely mortified. This nutheap, who she went on one date with and hadn't spoken to since, managed to invent an entire relationship in her absence. Widget was out of town and roaming charges applied, so she missed his handful of phone calls over the weekend. His response, in email form, was thus:
[Widget],
First I wanted to thank you for such a nice evening last Friday. I feel bad that I made you drive so far, but hopefully your delicious dinner, and exhilarating company, made up for it in some manner. I was very nervous before we first met, but all of that disappeared after we began talking. You made quite an impression on me, I must say. You are so beautiful and extremely interesting. I really enjoyed listening to your stories and I hope I didn't bore you too much with mine. We share so many of the same interests and we also share a common past, which is so great! I have to be honest, that night I couldn't sleep at all, I was so "jazzed" about you, about everything! It felt wonderful. I told myself on Saturday that I should play it cool, and wait a few days to call you, but I really wanted to see you again, as soon as it was possible. I am sorry if my phone call bothered you. Then I made things even worse calling you on Sunday morning, I have to apologize for that, I had no intention of waking you up. I waited patiently to call you again Wednesday, I had to leave a message. You never called back and I tried again this afternoon. At this point I am pretty confident that you will never call me back. I am hurt and sad, to be honest. I don't want to say that my heart is broken, I hate cliches, but I can't think of a better way to describe how I feel. I thought that we had some sort of connection, was I wrong? Did I do something to change your feelings? Was the whole date a deception? I would really appreciate some honest answers, I feel like shit. I wish you only the best in life, [Widget]. I am a pretty nice guy. Please send some word, it's only right.
Best.
[Fatthew]
Uh, 'scuse me? "It's only right"? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm going to say this now and it applies for eternity:
The only thing I have to do in my life is stay black and die. Everything else is optional.
That goes for me, for you, and for everybody else. So don't tell me or anyone else what to do, motherfucker. Awwwwww, whiny boy, do you need CLOSURE? Fuck your closure and fuck you. It's only right? Who gives a fuck, and fuck you again. Where did this shitbag get it in his head that Widget owes him anything? Hmmmm, let's examine -
HIS PARENTS
Chances are, this idiot was told all his life how special and unique and fantastic he was just for being him! Well, that's fucking sweet but it sure as hell didn't prepare him for reality.
"But my mom says I'm special on the inside!". Whatever.
ROMANTIC COMEDIES
Good grief, these have fucked up men worse than anything I can think of. The beauty eschews the conventional hunk for the awkward/ugly/fat/radioactive guy with the heart of gold. These pieces of tripe tell men that personality is everything, any guy can get the woman he desires if he just tries hard enough and loves hard enough. Additionally, in a lot of these vehicles, women are treated like commodities to be picked and chosen by men. Don't buy it? Watch a bit more critically next time. So much for this garbage being "chick flicks".
So what does that leave us with? Obese men who live with their exes feeling entitled to the affections of beautiful smart women because it's inner beauty that counts.
"So you won't date me because I'm fat? God, you are so shallow." Oh yeah? Shallow huh. So why aren't you lining up for the fat, ugly girls instead of trying to shame an attractive woman into dating you? Oh, no answer to that? Well, I thought so.
The second awful consequence of romantic comedies and the distorted image of women they show is THE GRAND GESTURE! Before I get to that, let's digress briefly on the evils of technology.
The information age has changed the tastes of society. It's quick and easy to get plenty of things via the technology we possess now, and this has fostered a generation of young people who demand everything right here and right now. This culture of instant gratification is pervasive and it's seeped into every avenue of society, including dating. I want it, I don't want to work for it, give it to me NOW.
So, the Grand Gesture. In the movies, if a lovestruck young jackass wants the affections of a lady, all he need do is perform some magnificent feat to get her attention and profess his love. Men aren't all that bright sometimes and bad with detail (oh come on), so they distill this concept into "If I do something she can't avoid noticing, she'll like me." This doesn't take into account the possible feelings of the lady in question and, coupled with the instant gratification problem young people have, the gestures tend to be somewhat un-grand. To wit:
STORY TIME
I know this silly young scamp. I met him through friends and never put much thought into him beyond that. One evening, my friends and I were getting tipsy and noisy at my place with the windows open when the young scamp happened by. His name is Matt, and he doesn't get an alias because he deserves every bit of ridicule he gets. He and his friend rang the buzzer and came up to hang with the crowd. We do a regular Wednesday party, and Matt joined us at my friends' place the next week, as well.
The day after I saw him, he sends me a text message saying "Do you think I'm sexy?"
That's an odd question so I responded with "Are you still drunk from last night?"
And then he goes for his GRAND GESTURE....
"Just to get it out of the way: I really want to fuck you."
Yeah, because that works. Hey, he did it just like he was taught by popular media. I just profess my affections and she will fall into my arms (or on my dick, as the case may be). God forbid he go to any effort at all to woo a woman when he could just say "hey, let's fuck" and do away with all of that silly effort! Matt, this one's for you:
An Open Letter to Matt the Silly Scamp
Honey,
I know you're young, but did you just roll off the turnip truck yesterday? Did you think that line would work? Really, did you think that would actually work? Have you met a woman before?
I know you were feeling inspired, and I have no doubt how inspirational I am. But there is a long tradition of men doing nearly everything in their power to gain the affections of women. Stories have been told of such things before the advent of the written word, for chrissakes. It's the nature of heterosexual relationships that men want it and women make them jump through hoops to give it up. There's a reason for this, and it's called WOMEN.
I'm sure you thought you were merely dispensing with all manner of nonsense with your BRILLIANT plan to just tell me you want to have sex with me, but guess what? I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I know you want to have sex with me. You didn't need to say anything at all, and this is true of most women and the men who admire them. Had you thought I would be so flattered that I would just throw my legs in the air and have at it? Daft, to say the least. If I went out on the street right now and asked 10 men if they wanted to have sex with me, I would get 10 enthusiastic yeses. Newsflash! This is true for just about any woman! Men are easy and horny, Matt. Thankfully, most men are also smarter than you. But you go on ahead and keep trying to reinvent that wheel.
Keep it in your pants, idiot
Jillian
Man, this post is getting off topic and starting to drag on a bit. The point I was trying to make was that young men are fucking ridiculous these days, making it awfully hard on young hetero women looking for love. Here's a quick list of other shit hetero guys shouldn't do:
WHAT NOT TO DO TO GET WOMEN
1.) BE METROSEXUAL
So you look like a fag but you like to bone ladies? Hell, I love the heck out of some fags, but I certainly don't date them (ahem, usually). I'm a straight woman, I date men. Did you hear that? MEN. Hairy, not-all-about-fashion manly-men. So act like a fucking man already. It's only fun for you to use moisturizer and hair products when I make you do it.
2.) BE SENSITIVE
Don't get me wrong, I don't dig assholes. I also don't dig guys who are motherfucking little girls on the inside. Being kind and compassionate is great, but demanding we talk about feelings is not cool. Talking about feelings is like kryptonite for Jillian in relationships. And do not, for any reason ever ever ever ever cry. Once more, DO NOT CRY! Do what you want in private and away from me, but do not cry in front of a woman unless it's out of overwhelming joy (wedding, birth of a child, etc.). If I wanted to date someone who acted like a damn chick, I would date chicks. Alas, that is not the case.
3.) CONSIDER WORKING OUT TO BE YOUR HOBBY
Working out is something you do to be healthy, not because it's particularly fun or interesting in the least. It's healthy to have regular bowel movements, but do you see me telling people about my stool? No, you do not! Why? Because nobody wants to fucking hear about it, much like anything to do with your workout regimen. Now go collect stamps or something.
4.) SMOKE CRACK
I thought I was the only one who had this problem with men, but it appears as though Widget has had a similar experience. Her date went as far as to actually light up the crack pipe with some of his buddies in front of her. Yikes.
MY CRACKHEAD STORY
I decided to give internet dating another shot, despite only have met freaks in the past. What can I say? I was either too stupid to learn my lesson or full of bright sparkly hope for mankind. Anyhoo, I met this guy named Jay and he seemed to be quite bright and interesting. He was a writer and we had similar interests, and his picture was pretty cute. We met for drinks and he was halfway decent company, despite drinking to a substantial excess. Considering how much I enjoy drinking, that's saying quite a lot. Oh well, maybe he was just nervous.
Jay suggested we go meet some friends of his at another bar and I went along with it. I'm hateful but strangely friendly. On the way there, Jay mentions that his one friend (who we'll call Rocky because I can't remember his name) smokes crack. I'm astounded because, really, who does that? That's fucked up. I'm cracking up (pun!) at this revelation when Jay lets it slide that he, too, smokes crack occasionally. And then he utters the immortal line:
"Who doesn't smoke crack every once in a while?"
My response, naturally, was "Uhh, me and everyone I know. That's who". We met up with his friends, who happily exclaimed after a taste of my company "We like Jillian way better than you, Jay!" Then later, Rocky asked me out right in front of Jay, creating awkwardness for everyone assembled. Crack must act on those "good manners" portions of the brain.
Ugh, that's enough of this. I'm making myself depressed.
If anyone happens to know some good-looking straight single men with some decent brainpower out there, send them my way please. I'm very cute, I have a great rack, my spelling is fantastic, and I love action movies. Get to work, minions.
[Shaking head despondently],
The Devil
THE PROBLEM WITH DATING, YOUNG MEN, SOCIETY, AND TECHNOLOGY
Granted, that's a pretty darn broad subject, but I do have a point here. Bear with me, there are some good stories thrown in as well. To begin:
I was chatting with my sister yesterday about our most recent dating foibles, and an important point came up. What the fuck is the deal with young men these days and their insane sense of entitlement? My sister and I are both lovely ladies with good brains and personality, and any man should be so fortunate as to receive our attentions. Why is it then that every fucking goon that takes a liking to us is shocked and appalled if we don't share the sentiment?
"But I like you so much!! Why shouldn't you just like me in turn because I want you?"
STORY TIME
So the sister goes out with this guy she met online (I know, I know, and I tried to tell her - but where do you meet people anyway?). I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone terribly here (ha!), so we'll call him Fatthew. He seems to have a decent personality and at least a few brain cells to rub together. On the other hand, he's weighing in at over 300 lbs. and he still lives with his exgirlfriend. Widget (also an alias) is not a shallow sort, so she can overlook a weight problem or some inconvenient living arrangements provided the personality and chemistry are there and dude isn't some raging psycho/racist/drug addict/basketcase. They go out.
Widget is lukewarm about the guy after the date, but considers seeing him again. She then leaves for a 4 day business trip and returns home to be completely mortified. This nutheap, who she went on one date with and hadn't spoken to since, managed to invent an entire relationship in her absence. Widget was out of town and roaming charges applied, so she missed his handful of phone calls over the weekend. His response, in email form, was thus:
[Widget],
First I wanted to thank you for such a nice evening last Friday. I feel bad that I made you drive so far, but hopefully your delicious dinner, and exhilarating company, made up for it in some manner. I was very nervous before we first met, but all of that disappeared after we began talking. You made quite an impression on me, I must say. You are so beautiful and extremely interesting. I really enjoyed listening to your stories and I hope I didn't bore you too much with mine. We share so many of the same interests and we also share a common past, which is so great! I have to be honest, that night I couldn't sleep at all, I was so "jazzed" about you, about everything! It felt wonderful. I told myself on Saturday that I should play it cool, and wait a few days to call you, but I really wanted to see you again, as soon as it was possible. I am sorry if my phone call bothered you. Then I made things even worse calling you on Sunday morning, I have to apologize for that, I had no intention of waking you up. I waited patiently to call you again Wednesday, I had to leave a message. You never called back and I tried again this afternoon. At this point I am pretty confident that you will never call me back. I am hurt and sad, to be honest. I don't want to say that my heart is broken, I hate cliches, but I can't think of a better way to describe how I feel. I thought that we had some sort of connection, was I wrong? Did I do something to change your feelings? Was the whole date a deception? I would really appreciate some honest answers, I feel like shit. I wish you only the best in life, [Widget]. I am a pretty nice guy. Please send some word, it's only right.
Best.
[Fatthew]
Uh, 'scuse me? "It's only right"? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm going to say this now and it applies for eternity:
The only thing I have to do in my life is stay black and die. Everything else is optional.
That goes for me, for you, and for everybody else. So don't tell me or anyone else what to do, motherfucker. Awwwwww, whiny boy, do you need CLOSURE? Fuck your closure and fuck you. It's only right? Who gives a fuck, and fuck you again. Where did this shitbag get it in his head that Widget owes him anything? Hmmmm, let's examine -
HIS PARENTS
Chances are, this idiot was told all his life how special and unique and fantastic he was just for being him! Well, that's fucking sweet but it sure as hell didn't prepare him for reality.
"But my mom says I'm special on the inside!". Whatever.
ROMANTIC COMEDIES
Good grief, these have fucked up men worse than anything I can think of. The beauty eschews the conventional hunk for the awkward/ugly/fat/radioactive guy with the heart of gold. These pieces of tripe tell men that personality is everything, any guy can get the woman he desires if he just tries hard enough and loves hard enough. Additionally, in a lot of these vehicles, women are treated like commodities to be picked and chosen by men. Don't buy it? Watch a bit more critically next time. So much for this garbage being "chick flicks".
So what does that leave us with? Obese men who live with their exes feeling entitled to the affections of beautiful smart women because it's inner beauty that counts.
"So you won't date me because I'm fat? God, you are so shallow." Oh yeah? Shallow huh. So why aren't you lining up for the fat, ugly girls instead of trying to shame an attractive woman into dating you? Oh, no answer to that? Well, I thought so.
The second awful consequence of romantic comedies and the distorted image of women they show is THE GRAND GESTURE! Before I get to that, let's digress briefly on the evils of technology.
The information age has changed the tastes of society. It's quick and easy to get plenty of things via the technology we possess now, and this has fostered a generation of young people who demand everything right here and right now. This culture of instant gratification is pervasive and it's seeped into every avenue of society, including dating. I want it, I don't want to work for it, give it to me NOW.
So, the Grand Gesture. In the movies, if a lovestruck young jackass wants the affections of a lady, all he need do is perform some magnificent feat to get her attention and profess his love. Men aren't all that bright sometimes and bad with detail (oh come on), so they distill this concept into "If I do something she can't avoid noticing, she'll like me." This doesn't take into account the possible feelings of the lady in question and, coupled with the instant gratification problem young people have, the gestures tend to be somewhat un-grand. To wit:
STORY TIME
I know this silly young scamp. I met him through friends and never put much thought into him beyond that. One evening, my friends and I were getting tipsy and noisy at my place with the windows open when the young scamp happened by. His name is Matt, and he doesn't get an alias because he deserves every bit of ridicule he gets. He and his friend rang the buzzer and came up to hang with the crowd. We do a regular Wednesday party, and Matt joined us at my friends' place the next week, as well.
The day after I saw him, he sends me a text message saying "Do you think I'm sexy?"
That's an odd question so I responded with "Are you still drunk from last night?"
And then he goes for his GRAND GESTURE....
"Just to get it out of the way: I really want to fuck you."
Yeah, because that works. Hey, he did it just like he was taught by popular media. I just profess my affections and she will fall into my arms (or on my dick, as the case may be). God forbid he go to any effort at all to woo a woman when he could just say "hey, let's fuck" and do away with all of that silly effort! Matt, this one's for you:
An Open Letter to Matt the Silly Scamp
Honey,
I know you're young, but did you just roll off the turnip truck yesterday? Did you think that line would work? Really, did you think that would actually work? Have you met a woman before?
I know you were feeling inspired, and I have no doubt how inspirational I am. But there is a long tradition of men doing nearly everything in their power to gain the affections of women. Stories have been told of such things before the advent of the written word, for chrissakes. It's the nature of heterosexual relationships that men want it and women make them jump through hoops to give it up. There's a reason for this, and it's called WOMEN.
I'm sure you thought you were merely dispensing with all manner of nonsense with your BRILLIANT plan to just tell me you want to have sex with me, but guess what? I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I know you want to have sex with me. You didn't need to say anything at all, and this is true of most women and the men who admire them. Had you thought I would be so flattered that I would just throw my legs in the air and have at it? Daft, to say the least. If I went out on the street right now and asked 10 men if they wanted to have sex with me, I would get 10 enthusiastic yeses. Newsflash! This is true for just about any woman! Men are easy and horny, Matt. Thankfully, most men are also smarter than you. But you go on ahead and keep trying to reinvent that wheel.
Keep it in your pants, idiot
Jillian
Man, this post is getting off topic and starting to drag on a bit. The point I was trying to make was that young men are fucking ridiculous these days, making it awfully hard on young hetero women looking for love. Here's a quick list of other shit hetero guys shouldn't do:
WHAT NOT TO DO TO GET WOMEN
1.) BE METROSEXUAL
So you look like a fag but you like to bone ladies? Hell, I love the heck out of some fags, but I certainly don't date them (ahem, usually). I'm a straight woman, I date men. Did you hear that? MEN. Hairy, not-all-about-fashion manly-men. So act like a fucking man already. It's only fun for you to use moisturizer and hair products when I make you do it.
2.) BE SENSITIVE
Don't get me wrong, I don't dig assholes. I also don't dig guys who are motherfucking little girls on the inside. Being kind and compassionate is great, but demanding we talk about feelings is not cool. Talking about feelings is like kryptonite for Jillian in relationships. And do not, for any reason ever ever ever ever cry. Once more, DO NOT CRY! Do what you want in private and away from me, but do not cry in front of a woman unless it's out of overwhelming joy (wedding, birth of a child, etc.). If I wanted to date someone who acted like a damn chick, I would date chicks. Alas, that is not the case.
3.) CONSIDER WORKING OUT TO BE YOUR HOBBY
Working out is something you do to be healthy, not because it's particularly fun or interesting in the least. It's healthy to have regular bowel movements, but do you see me telling people about my stool? No, you do not! Why? Because nobody wants to fucking hear about it, much like anything to do with your workout regimen. Now go collect stamps or something.
4.) SMOKE CRACK
I thought I was the only one who had this problem with men, but it appears as though Widget has had a similar experience. Her date went as far as to actually light up the crack pipe with some of his buddies in front of her. Yikes.
MY CRACKHEAD STORY
I decided to give internet dating another shot, despite only have met freaks in the past. What can I say? I was either too stupid to learn my lesson or full of bright sparkly hope for mankind. Anyhoo, I met this guy named Jay and he seemed to be quite bright and interesting. He was a writer and we had similar interests, and his picture was pretty cute. We met for drinks and he was halfway decent company, despite drinking to a substantial excess. Considering how much I enjoy drinking, that's saying quite a lot. Oh well, maybe he was just nervous.
Jay suggested we go meet some friends of his at another bar and I went along with it. I'm hateful but strangely friendly. On the way there, Jay mentions that his one friend (who we'll call Rocky because I can't remember his name) smokes crack. I'm astounded because, really, who does that? That's fucked up. I'm cracking up (pun!) at this revelation when Jay lets it slide that he, too, smokes crack occasionally. And then he utters the immortal line:
"Who doesn't smoke crack every once in a while?"
My response, naturally, was "Uhh, me and everyone I know. That's who". We met up with his friends, who happily exclaimed after a taste of my company "We like Jillian way better than you, Jay!" Then later, Rocky asked me out right in front of Jay, creating awkwardness for everyone assembled. Crack must act on those "good manners" portions of the brain.
Ugh, that's enough of this. I'm making myself depressed.
If anyone happens to know some good-looking straight single men with some decent brainpower out there, send them my way please. I'm very cute, I have a great rack, my spelling is fantastic, and I love action movies. Get to work, minions.
[Shaking head despondently],
The Devil
Feed my ego, bitches!
What the hell do you think this page is for anyway? So leave me comments and leave them frequently. They don't have to be nice, you know I don't care much for civility.
As an extra incentive, I'll run a contest. The best comment of the week gets a prize....hold on, I'm looking around HQ....aha! The prize this week is going to be your choice of a delightful green gourd (about the size of a football, if footballs were gourd shaped) or a selection of novels (cuz you know your ass should read more). See, it's not all about me. Okay, that's a lie. Comment!
J-Killa
As an extra incentive, I'll run a contest. The best comment of the week gets a prize....hold on, I'm looking around HQ....aha! The prize this week is going to be your choice of a delightful green gourd (about the size of a football, if footballs were gourd shaped) or a selection of novels (cuz you know your ass should read more). See, it's not all about me. Okay, that's a lie. Comment!
J-Killa
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Two things that are great
It's not always about evil. Here's two things to make your day a little cheerier:
1.) I was walking down ol' Paseo Boriqua today and just east of California on the north side of the street was a scraggly, skinny tree. The lowest branches were about 8 feet up and throughout were scattered plastic action figures. I noted two different Supermans (Supermen?), what appeared to be a dollar-store version Batman, and a Captain America-looking guy with a parachute tangled in the branches. It was truly glorious.
2.) This quote-
"if Flavor Flav stands for anything -- besides Vikings, zealous timekeeping, and shiny teeth -- it is clearly the importance of being honest about one's boob-to-waist-to-booty ratio"
Ha! Flav rules.
Cheer the fuck up, it's a beautiful day
J-illin'
1.) I was walking down ol' Paseo Boriqua today and just east of California on the north side of the street was a scraggly, skinny tree. The lowest branches were about 8 feet up and throughout were scattered plastic action figures. I noted two different Supermans (Supermen?), what appeared to be a dollar-store version Batman, and a Captain America-looking guy with a parachute tangled in the branches. It was truly glorious.
2.) This quote-
"if Flavor Flav stands for anything -- besides Vikings, zealous timekeeping, and shiny teeth -- it is clearly the importance of being honest about one's boob-to-waist-to-booty ratio"
Ha! Flav rules.
Cheer the fuck up, it's a beautiful day
J-illin'
Monday, September 24, 2007
Anna Wintour can go suck a dick
I'm tempted not to tell you all where these photos came from. It would probably be more amusing to just throw them at you and let you ponder.
Does Jillian have a new line coming out? Are these propaganda shots from some avant-garde satanic cult looking to recruit? Centerfolds from Devil Worship Weekly?
No, none of those.
Before I reveal my sources, let's take a closer look:
The goat for the slaughter -
While the cross painted (auspiciously) in blood on the goat's forehead should be inverted, I still have to give props for the bloody images this photo inspires. Goat sacrifice. One more time, GOAT SACRIFICE. Please keep that in mind when I tell you where this spread is from.
The eyes -
The look on the girl's face in the second photo will seriously give me nightmares for a month. That's some fucked up shit, and I'm usually the scariest thing around here.
So where did these photos come from? Who has answered the call of the Dark Lord?
Why, French Vogue, of course.
Eat it, Anna Wintour
J-Devil
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
I'd say I am going to be America's Next Top Model...
But I wouldn't want to limit myself. I'm international, bitches.
Oh yes indeed, that magical day has arrived. Tonight, Tyra Banks will introduce the world to her evil cult's Class of '07, systematically destroy their self-esteems, and remake them in her image. I love that shit.
Although I'm not the first to say it, you may not have heard this particular theory yet. Brace yourself, here it comes:
America's Next Top Model is a picture perfect example of cult indoctrination practices.
"What? Jillian, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard"
Hey, it's totally true. And don't call me stupid, you know I'll stab a bitch. There have been a number of esteemed papers published by actual science types on this very subject. If you're unfamiliar with the show, let's take a look at their set up:
- First off, the shows deals with the modeling industry which is notorious for fostering poor body images, unattainable physical ideals through the magic of Photoshop, major eating disorders, and drug addiction. So, basically hating yourself and lies. Much like Christian theology, it's an excellent place to start your cult.
- A handful of girls are picked out based on dubious criteria, segregated from society, and forced to live together in a secret compound.
- Cult members...uh, I mean contestants are allowed to speak to their loved ones on the phone, but only under the watchful eyes of the video cameras.
That's just the basics, there's more:
THE RELIGION
One might be tempted to say the "religion" of the show is fashion, but that's way off the mark. There's actually very little concern with fashion, aside from the obscure designers paraded past the girls on a regular basis and the fact that they tend to wear clothes. The religion is MODELING, as if modeling was some lofty goal akin to earning a Phd in astrophysics. While thinking people understand that modeling is a career that is mostly dependent on inborn physical traits, the cult tries to convince it's members that ANYONE can be a model if they would just do everything the evil cult leader tells them too. A baldfaced lie? Of course it is, but cults lie. That's why they're bad.
THE CARGO CULT TIE-IN
Allow me to school you briefly on the concept of cargo cults:
A cargo cult is a religious sect that requires, as part of it's main religious theory, that something will eventually be delivered to the religions adherents. This "cargo" will be supplied by the cult's deity in return for it's members devotion and compliance with cult doctrine. One shining example of a cargo cult is Christianity. And what are they waiting for, what is the divine cargo that the good little Christians will receive? The new messiah, of course.
The Catch-22 of cargo cults is that the eventual cargo arriving would render the religion itself obsolete. So, naturally, the cargo never arrives. Have the Christians gotten their new messiah yet? They keep predicting when this event will occur, and they keep being all sorts of wrong. No matter, they just adjust their theories and make lots of excuses for their errors and the cult persists in the same line of thinking (that lacks any sort of common sense, but alas).
THE CARGO
Well well well, the divine prize in America's Next Top Model is, of course, becoming America's next top model. The show would have you believe that these girls need only to beat out their immediate competition and they will be rocketed to incredible stardom, usurping any big names out there in the fashion world and dominating the industry. Granted, there is a concrete prize: a modeling contract with a drugstore make up brand and various commercial spots associated with the show. But for all the refrains of "High Fashion! High Fashion!" from crazy Tyra, where are all of these Top Models in the high fashion world?
The sad fact is that no one on this show has gone on to have any career as a high fashion model. They're not on runways, they aren't doing spreads in Vogue, and they don't have any associated ad campaigns with fashion labels. They do their term for Covergirl and they fade into obscurity. Yet, the show perseveres despite truly being a failure. What, haven't you been paying attention? That's exactly how cargo cults work.
THE CHARISMATIC CULT LEADER
No cult would be complete without the Charismatic Cult Leader: our very own Ms. Banks. As the focal point of the cult, the leader must be a true megalomaniac. She knows all, has seen it all, and is the only one who can tell you how to do it right.
First, the leader will tell you how you have it wrong. Your hair is bad, your clothes look like they came from the damn mall, you need to lose a few pounds, you walk funny, you look ugly in your pictures. This is especially rough for these girls to hear; these girls are so tall and pretty that they've spent their lives having people tell them nothing but how beautiful they are and how they should totally be models. To come into the arena they've dreamed about for years and be told they're hopelessly inadequate is absolutely crushing.
But, there's hope! All of their flaws can be fixed! And how is that possible? By doing everything the cult leader says. They get invariably drastic makeovers so they no longer look like themselves, they change their personal style, they move differently, and they are constantly impressed upon to live and breathe the transformation. ONE OF US, ONE OF US!! The girls that change themselves the most are the ones who receive the most positive feedback from the judging panel. And on that note...
THE JUDGING PANEL
Seriously, they don't even try to hide the cult overtones with this crap. Stand front and center before a collection of people who are better than you so they can tell you what you've done wrong. It's almost unheard of that a contestant will go before the judging panel and not receive any negative criticism. The photos are amazing, the girl is fantastic in person, and she's won every challenge in the competition....they'll find something bad to say anyway. Can't let these girls think they can't benefit from the cult's teachings, so this practice reinforces their dependence on Tyra and the show.
REASONS WHY TYRA BANKS IS SUPER EVIL
1.) Supposedly, these girls are all real tight with Tyra. On camera, she likes to play that she's everyone's bestest buddy and she really CARES about these young women. Uh huh. Every time Tyra appears, the girls immediately start shrieking and freaking out and shouting "Oh my God! It's Tyra! Tyra, Tyra, Tyra!". Do you do that every time you see your bestest buddy, or say, someone who has given you a leg up in your chosen career? Hell, no. No one acts that way, Tyra makes them do it. Because she's crazy.
2.) God forbid someone doesn't behave like a kicked dog, Tyra will scream her giant forehead off at them. Cult members are regularly berated for acting too friendly with the "higher ups": fashion designers, photographers, or the collection of obscure wierdos that make up Tyra's entourage. What is too friendly? Making polite jokes or speaking to them as though they were equals. Yes, they really do this.
3.) Tyra keeps an entourage of overly made up eunuchs who are all forced to answer to the name "Jay" (ex. Miss Jay and Jay Manuel). That is so bizarre it could only be in the context of a religious movement.
4.) The cult members must do everything that they are told. Case in point: Jay Manuel tells one model that she should be practicing her poses before her photo shoot, and the model replies (politely) that she's confident she's had enough practice. The girl does a fantastic job, takes great photos that are lauded by the judging panel. Regardless, the girl is still yelled at by Tyra for not having followed Jay's orders, even though they were an unnecessary demand. Because you do what you're told and don't think for yourself, automatons!
But the biggest issue is....
THEY TORTURE THESE GIRLS
-They make a point of casting based on personality as much as looks. Why do you think there are a few supremely bitchy girls with no social skills on every season? With their terrible attitudes, they would never stand a chance in an industry already oversaturated with tall skinny beautiful girls that keep their damn mouths shut. Yet they get put on the show anyway because they make for good drama. All these silly girls are forced to live together in close quarters and the mean girls make it unpleasant for everyone.
-The girls barely sleep. Not because they want to spend all their time partying; the show maintains an unreasonable schedule of events intending to make the contestants sleep deprived. You're far more likely to get sick if you are stressed and sleep-deprived, and they producers love when the girls get sick. Because they get to baby them and prove how kind they are? HELL NO. There hasn't been a season yet where some poor girl wasn't screamed at by Tyra and her minions for having the audacity to complain about illness. The girls are told that sick isn't an option, and they'll never survive in the business if they don't suck it up and get to work. Maybe for a little sniffle, but these girls are regularly taken away in ambulances for their various maladies.
-They speak and act in contradictions. All of you girls are living together, you should be acting like sisters! Now we're going to pit you all against eachother in various "challenges" and give fanatastic prizes to the winner. The winner also gets to choose a friend or two to enjoy the prize, so that the girls are forced into creating cliques amongst themselves and fostering jealously amongst the other contestants. Tyra and her minions all care about you, we're your good loving friends! Ha, just don't treat us like we're your friends or talk to us as you would to your friends or ever consider doing anything other than exactly what we tell you to. That's not how friends behave.
This seems rather transparent, but treating people this way over a period of time will eventually drive someone crazy. It creates paranoia and stress because the girls never know what kind of response they'll get due to the constant inconsistency of the cult's leadership. It also keeps the cult members from making their own decisions, as they are forced to constantly query the cult leaders for whatever the "right" answer or position will be that day. SNEAKY!
Well, that's my lunatic tirade for the day. I'll be hosting a party of my favorite ladies and homos this evening for the event. It starts at 7:00pm CST, and we'll be enjoying cheese, wine and the debasement of pretty girls. Make sure you don't miss it! If you do, I'm going to tell Tyra and don't think she won't show up at your place primed and ready for Chinese water torture.
You better work it girl,
Jillian
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Hey Wonderwoman, take off your shirt!
What was Jillian doing at 10:30 last night?
A.) Reading to the blind
B.) Throwing one of my regular weekday cocktail parties
C.) Stalking Lynda Carter in an alley under the el tracks
This story starts a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...
Way back when I was freshman in college, I lived in a dorm at Loyola. Loyola is run by alarmist Catholic wackadoos, so the freshman dorms were designed as impenetrable fortresses to protect the virtue of the wee little freshman babies freshly imported from affluent suburbs from any evildoers lurking the streets of Roger's Park. And by 'evildoers', they meant black people (hey don't get pissed at me, they's the haters).
My dorm had several levels of security, the most consistent being the security desk by the dorm entrance. Of course, I didn't for a moment consider the possibility of actually following the dorm rules and regs, so I devised a plan to get in good with the security staff. Turned out, that wasn't too hard as most of the security was damn crazy and we all know how much crazy people enjoy me.
Dave calls me "The Patron Saint of Crackheads" [That's pretty little David in the picture]
One my first day at the dorms on my mission of good will, I met one regular security staffer. Dude (forgive me for not remembering his name, I drink) was late 30's, black, and pretty darn unhinged. I said hello and he immediately SHOUTS at me "HEY! YOU KNOW WHO YOU LOOK LIKE?! LYNDA CARTER!!" I was at the tender age of 17, so naturally I didn't know anything about anything - much less who the hell Lynda Carter was. He goes on: "YOU KNOW! WONDERWOMAN!" I thought this was a pretty rad assessment, so I thanked Dude and introduced myself.
The introduction was obviously a wasted effort since, for the remainder of the year I lived in that dorm, he would scream "WONDERWOMAN!" or "LYNDA CARTER!" at the top of his lungs every time he would see me. This seems charming and harmless, but it proved awkward to explain the situation to the surprised and puzzled crowd every time this nutball would pull this crap. At some point I mentioned this story to my friend Steve, which brings us to the events of last night...
LAST NIGHT
Steve calls me up as I'm chilling on the couch, enjoying a glass of spirited italian white and taking in some Family Guy. I had had a long day of meetings with vegan raw food afficionados (yes, really) and preparing marketing solutions, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity when Steve asked if I'd like to join him to see Lynda Carter do her cabaret act at a theater in Lincoln Park. He also mentioned that he thought of me because of the crazy story I had recounted to him so long ago.
I rushed to sass myself up for the event, opting for a simple black dress in a crisp microfiber. I added an extra wide turquoise belt with patent accents as a fashionable homage to the superhero we were planning to see. [I tried to get Steve to wear his famous padded Superman costume, but he pussied out. PUNK!]. Steve arrived and we headed out. The game was afoot!
I know I say this often, but I really am an asshole. Witness: We arrived at the theater, acquired some cocktails, and handed our tickets to the first usher. She was pleasant and chatty, making small talk with the patrons as they were entering. So I asked her if Lynda Carter planned to take her shirt off.
The performance was lovely, even if the material was a bit stale. At 27 years, I've heard everyone the world over do the jazz standards she was working. '50 Ways to Leave Your Lover' was an unexpected and engaging addition to the program and her take on 'Cry Me a River' was pitch perfect. Her signature tune is 'Always' but it was pretty flat. Who gives a fuck though? Wonderwoman could have been up there flinging feces at the crowd and speaking ill of our mothers, and everyone would have loved it. She's a fucking superhero, bitches, she can do whatever she wants.
The show wraps up, and Steve and I make our exit. The car was parked behind the building in the alley and Steve lamented that he had a 8x10 glossy of Wonderwoman and wouldn't it be cool if she would sign it? Steve also claims that he just so happens to have this picture and it was a gift from some unnamed person. I say: what a load of hooey! Steve, you totally got that off ebay and you sleep with it under your pillow every night, don't lie. Remember: I can smell your fear.
Conveniently, as we were sitting in Steve's vehicle (the vehicle is named 'Ironman', it's stenciled across the hood), the keyboard player from the band wandered past. We quickly formed a plan. I hailed the keyboard player from the car window and complimented his performance. He saw me and smiled, then saw Steve and nearly climbed into the car with us (just a little bit gay, ya think). We acted like we gave a shit about where he usually plays and then hit him up for the big money: where is Wonderwoman and how can we get her to sign Steve's picture. He gave us some bull about how she has guests in town and won't be signing anything tonight. Steve must have been making lewd gestures to the guy behind my back, because then he pointed out the stage door and said we could catch her coming out.
So what was I doing at 10:30 last night? Stalking Lynda Carter in an alley under the el tracks. We hung out for ten minutes or so, brainstorming ways to overpower her chaffeur and sneak into her car, effectively ambushing her and risking the wrath of her golden lasso. Finally she came out with her entourage and immediately got into her car. A few rabid fans manged to pass their merchandise for her to sign into the car via her manager, but Steve was left disappointed in a cloud of exhaust as her car pulled away. Oh Lynda, don't make me do it. Fuck, I can't help myself.
An Open Letter to Lynda Carter
Dear Lyndaboo,
We've been tight for quite some time but, as your good friend, I have to say a few things that you need to hear. We're not back in the early 80's anymore, when I used to stunt double for you and act as your personal decoy. I mentioned to a few people that I was catching your act last night, and the response was overwhelmingly "Who?" You keep that in mind, honey: Wonderwoman was done long ago. And television actors were never allowed to pull the diva crap.
I won't waste time by bashing your ratty looking extensions, but I will say it's obvious you've gotten a little too big for your britches. Considering the sausage casing you were wearing as a skirt last night, you'll soon be too big for all of your apparel. My friend and I were hanging out by the stage door after the show, just wanting to say hey. You came out, TOTALLY ACTED LIKE YOU DIDN'T KNOW ME AT ALL, condescended to sign a few autographs, and took off. Now let's be real clear here: there wasn't some giant crowd out there, all squealing for your attention. It was 6 people, tops. Yes, that's right, 6 motherfucking people and you couldn't find the time to sign my buddy's picture.
All I can say is that I hope you were rushing off to either a proper tailor (it defeats the purpose if you can actually see the control top granny panties through your clothes) or a vocal lesson. Everyone thought it was sweet that you sang "Always" for your husband, but you butchered that shit. Your tone-deaf renditions of Smiths tunes is the reason I ended our illegal gay marriage in the first place, so you better knock it off with the serenades if you want to hold on to this relationship. Watch it with the attitude, sister; arrogant and washed-up are not a good combination. And for chrissakes, put on some moisturizer.
He'll never love you like I love you,
Jillian
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
You're going to change, right?
I know you've all been on the edge of your seats, bursting at the seems, and eager little beavers for my opinions on the events of last week. You don't have to tell me: you can't even leave your homes without some direction from me (and that's probably wise). With the drastic weather change over the last few days, the situation has become particularly dire and I hate to let my adherents down. Fret not, my pretty little ponies. Salvation is here!
I am speaking of fall fashion, of course.
New York Fashion Week wrapped up a few days ago, and I have culled the highlights from the sea of stupid ass garbage that was appearing on the runways. As we (the royal "we") are wont to do here at Evil HQ, I present to you a list! No, two lists! The best and the worst, get your notebooks ready...
BEST FALL TRENDS 2007
1.) Dresses
Yes, all the designers are still doing dresses like they've been at since the Spring collections. Fall is featuring short dresses again, but in heavier knits with longer sleeves. A big trend also is layering long sleeved shirts under more summery weight dresses, and it's a good way to transition from your summer wardrobe. It's about layering, and layering is your Chicago-weather friend.
HOW TO FUCK THIS UP: Wearing pants under your dress. No. I repeat: NO. Leggings are solid, but jeans or anything remotely pant-like is way way off. Also, wearing summer fabrics and patterns into winter is bad. Light weight cotton poplin and linen are summer only, and bright flower patterns or anything that looks at home on the beach won't do. So don't do it.
2.) Gray
As usual, I'm well ahead of the trends. I've been pushing gray since the beginning of the summer, and now all of the designers are hot for it. They must read my blog too. Gray is a supremely versatile neutral, and it looks fantastic with bright colors. Instead of black tights, do charcoal gray tights. Instead of a black or tan overcoat, opt for gray wool. Gray is also showing up on a lot of shoes; it looks especially fly in suede.
3.) Yellow
Fuck yeah!! As my devotees know, yellow is my favorite color. It's also a color that is widely hated, unjustly, by many. Go figure. I've been seeing yellow cropping up in the last few seasons, mostly in accessories. A handbag or some plastic bangles in the shade are good for the more color shy of you. It's great with bright red, white, gray, and even tan and khaki shades. For the ballsy, just go nuts and hook yourself up with some fly yellow apparel. You're here, you're queer, and you're not going anywhere!
PALE FOLKS: choose lemon or school bus yellow, and run screaming away from butter and mustard.
DARKER SKIN: bright true yellow may work for you, but if you're iffy, try a deeper gold shade or something in a sherbet pastel (not too pale, but not quite a bright).
4.) Cinched waists and strong shoulders
The shapeless sacks from the summer have gone the way of the warm weather, my friends, and a more structured sillouette is on the menu for fall and winter. Fitted jackets are everywhere; if you have coats that are loose on you, take them to the tailor and have them altered to fit you well - especially through the waist. Belted trenches are huge, and belts in general were seen on everything. The shoulders are more defined in the new styles, without crossing the line into giant 80's shoulder pad sillyness.
HOW TO DO THE NEW BELT: Bitches, please stop throwing a random belt on over t-shirts so you look weird and awkward. Loose blouses and oversize sweaters: cinch at the waist with a thick belt and blouse your top a bit (I said A BIT) over the belt. A skinny belt over a buttoned cardigan is adorable on nearly everyone. Belted tops work best with skirts, and Satan forbid if I see someone wearing a belt over a shirt with belt loops visible on her pants. If you plan to keep it on, throw a belt on over a buttoned jacket that's well-fitted. Most dresses work well also; if you're skittish about trying this (for seriously peeps, belts were EVERYWHERE on EVERYTHING), throw a thick bright colored one over your little black dress for evening. Way cute and all sorts of fashionable.
5.) Tights
If you're fortunate enough to enjoy the abomination that is winter in Chicago, then you know how necessary tights are. Textures, colors, and everything in between. What wasn't there: black tights. Last fall, everything was fucking black tights. This year, replace all of your black tights with gray tights. Still matches nearly everything, but you look much cooler. I know you: you need all the help you can get.
I have always had mad love for colored tights, and super duper bright is what the designers are pushing. I dig it and do it, but I'm a revolutionary who doesn't mind getting made fun of (by homeless people) for my sartorial stunts. Plus, bright colored tights are for fun and not for work. For a more demure option, pick up some eggplant, chocolate brown, deep blue (not navy - navy is barf), gray and burgundy. Forest green looks especially rad; even the anti-fashion gang people in my 'hood give me a shout out when I have mine on. Or maybe they just want to sell me some rocks.
6.) Jewelry and handbags
Fuck the designers, I'll tell you what's what. Their take is super huge monster sacks that could easily fit a 5 year old child. I assume, since you have internet at your disposal, that you aren't bag ladies - so don't carry out a giant bag lady bag. That shit just looks sloppy.
JILLIAN'S TREND
Go for interest. That extremely general, but take a quick gander at your hand bag. Is it solid colored? Probably a neutral color? Plain and boring? Get rid of it. Pick up something in a bright color; true red goes with a lot more than you would think. Patterns are nice, texture is a buzz word for the season. If you just can't part with black or brown, switch to something in a shiny patent leather. You'll thank me when people stop calling you a dork behind your back.
Jewelry was pretty sparse on the runways, so I'll just tell you what will not be okay:
- a bunch of necklaces in varying lengths
- the Sicilian horns - massively played out.
- nut beads and shells - over, over, over!
- crucifixes - good for keeping vampires and me away, but that's about it
JILLIAN'S TREND
I like long necklaces: a single interesting necklace, or a few of the same length and a similar feel. I just came upon a long gold rope chain with a green pingpong ball sized plastic apple hanging off it; the apple has a single leaf in gold, covered with clear rhinestones. It is, undoubtedly, the jam. I was rocking it the other day with my gold plated maple leaf pendant on a gold chain the same length (and my green galoshes, cuz that's how I roll) to much aplomb.
Bangles are still good, but lean toward one large rather than a mess of skinny ones. Plastic and notably lucite are great.
WORST FALL TRENDS 2007
1.) Shorts
Or rather, MOTHERFUCKING SHORTS. For reals, people? For cold weather? I am no proponent of shorts for any season, but Fall and Winter are just ridiculously impractical. Short shorts only look decent on the very tall and very slim. If that doesn't sound like you, guess what? You look like thick-thighed crap in your shorts. And please don't accuse me of hating on thickness in any respect, I'm plenty thick myself. I just have this ridiculous idea that you should dress to flatter what you've got rather than just wearing any old thing you found in the main display at Old Navy (or losing weight, of course). For all seasons, if you want to show your gams, put on a skirt. You are a girl (or a tranny) after all, you won't be shocking anyone and it's far more flattering.
2.) Puff sleeves
As of the last time I checked, I'm not five years old. Yes, I wear my hair in pigtails from time to time, I have a penchant for funny socks, and I just can't seem to get silly galoshes out of my system. But yet, I still look like an adult. The short puff sleeves that designers are flaunting this year are downright infantilizing. If you are over 15, you cannot do this. If you want to throw caution to the wind against my advice, you best make sure you have extremely slim upper arms. You'll look ridiculous still, but at least it won't be squeezing arm flab (hey, I have it, whatever).
3.) Neckties
Um, is Avril in the house? Cuz I left my machete at home. Surprisingly, I saw this with a lot of lines this season. It's fucked, just say no.
What the hell, how about a 3rd list while I'm on a roll....
THINGS YOU NEED TO PACK AWAY PROMPTLY
1.) The babydoll shirts
Is it a dress? Is it a shirt? Is it completely unflattering and looks like maternity wear? If you can't cinch it reasonably with a cute belt at the waist, it's gots to go. Shapeless is out, and you need at least a DD cup for a babydoll top with an empire waist to flatter you rather than just make you look fat. Yes, really.
2.) Boot cut pants or jeans
The flare at the bottom, even if it's subtle, looks very dated. If you're still sporting actual bellbottoms, I'm just going to slap you. STRAIGHT LEG! Skinny jeans and pants, wide leg, or anything in the middle: lay the pants down flat, and they shouldn't taper in or out between the knee and the ankle.
3.) Super low rise pants
Honey, didn't you get the memo? That shit is done, not that it was a fantastic idea in the first place. Can you say Muffin Top? Cuz I can, and I'm talking about you.
4.) Ugly shoes
This includes: athletic shoes that are good for actual athletics, Ugg and fake Ugg boots (hello 2001! Why won't you die?), and flats on most people. Yes, some folks can wear flats and they look great. These are people who have long slim legs, SMALL NARROW FEET, and enough definition between ankle and calf that people aren't shouting "Cankles!" out of their car windows. Please note, that doesn't describe most people. I'm above average in height and I have a pretty sexy pair of legs - yet flat shoes with a skirt on me makes me look short and dumpy. I'm a supermodel, so you can just imagine how you would look. You want comfortable shoes? Get flat, knee high boots. Those suit nearly everyone.
I hope I managed to set you all on the righteous path for Fall fashion. Please feel free to direct any follow up queries to me; I'll get together with the homeless in the alley and we'll come up with a solid solution for any of your sartorial worries. Help me help you....to not look like such a fucking douchebag. That really is the best reward.
You still won't look as good as me,
J-Illin'
I am speaking of fall fashion, of course.
New York Fashion Week wrapped up a few days ago, and I have culled the highlights from the sea of stupid ass garbage that was appearing on the runways. As we (the royal "we") are wont to do here at Evil HQ, I present to you a list! No, two lists! The best and the worst, get your notebooks ready...
BEST FALL TRENDS 2007
1.) Dresses
Yes, all the designers are still doing dresses like they've been at since the Spring collections. Fall is featuring short dresses again, but in heavier knits with longer sleeves. A big trend also is layering long sleeved shirts under more summery weight dresses, and it's a good way to transition from your summer wardrobe. It's about layering, and layering is your Chicago-weather friend.
HOW TO FUCK THIS UP: Wearing pants under your dress. No. I repeat: NO. Leggings are solid, but jeans or anything remotely pant-like is way way off. Also, wearing summer fabrics and patterns into winter is bad. Light weight cotton poplin and linen are summer only, and bright flower patterns or anything that looks at home on the beach won't do. So don't do it.
2.) Gray
As usual, I'm well ahead of the trends. I've been pushing gray since the beginning of the summer, and now all of the designers are hot for it. They must read my blog too. Gray is a supremely versatile neutral, and it looks fantastic with bright colors. Instead of black tights, do charcoal gray tights. Instead of a black or tan overcoat, opt for gray wool. Gray is also showing up on a lot of shoes; it looks especially fly in suede.
3.) Yellow
Fuck yeah!! As my devotees know, yellow is my favorite color. It's also a color that is widely hated, unjustly, by many. Go figure. I've been seeing yellow cropping up in the last few seasons, mostly in accessories. A handbag or some plastic bangles in the shade are good for the more color shy of you. It's great with bright red, white, gray, and even tan and khaki shades. For the ballsy, just go nuts and hook yourself up with some fly yellow apparel. You're here, you're queer, and you're not going anywhere!
PALE FOLKS: choose lemon or school bus yellow, and run screaming away from butter and mustard.
DARKER SKIN: bright true yellow may work for you, but if you're iffy, try a deeper gold shade or something in a sherbet pastel (not too pale, but not quite a bright).
4.) Cinched waists and strong shoulders
The shapeless sacks from the summer have gone the way of the warm weather, my friends, and a more structured sillouette is on the menu for fall and winter. Fitted jackets are everywhere; if you have coats that are loose on you, take them to the tailor and have them altered to fit you well - especially through the waist. Belted trenches are huge, and belts in general were seen on everything. The shoulders are more defined in the new styles, without crossing the line into giant 80's shoulder pad sillyness.
HOW TO DO THE NEW BELT: Bitches, please stop throwing a random belt on over t-shirts so you look weird and awkward. Loose blouses and oversize sweaters: cinch at the waist with a thick belt and blouse your top a bit (I said A BIT) over the belt. A skinny belt over a buttoned cardigan is adorable on nearly everyone. Belted tops work best with skirts, and Satan forbid if I see someone wearing a belt over a shirt with belt loops visible on her pants. If you plan to keep it on, throw a belt on over a buttoned jacket that's well-fitted. Most dresses work well also; if you're skittish about trying this (for seriously peeps, belts were EVERYWHERE on EVERYTHING), throw a thick bright colored one over your little black dress for evening. Way cute and all sorts of fashionable.
5.) Tights
If you're fortunate enough to enjoy the abomination that is winter in Chicago, then you know how necessary tights are. Textures, colors, and everything in between. What wasn't there: black tights. Last fall, everything was fucking black tights. This year, replace all of your black tights with gray tights. Still matches nearly everything, but you look much cooler. I know you: you need all the help you can get.
I have always had mad love for colored tights, and super duper bright is what the designers are pushing. I dig it and do it, but I'm a revolutionary who doesn't mind getting made fun of (by homeless people) for my sartorial stunts. Plus, bright colored tights are for fun and not for work. For a more demure option, pick up some eggplant, chocolate brown, deep blue (not navy - navy is barf), gray and burgundy. Forest green looks especially rad; even the anti-fashion gang people in my 'hood give me a shout out when I have mine on. Or maybe they just want to sell me some rocks.
6.) Jewelry and handbags
Fuck the designers, I'll tell you what's what. Their take is super huge monster sacks that could easily fit a 5 year old child. I assume, since you have internet at your disposal, that you aren't bag ladies - so don't carry out a giant bag lady bag. That shit just looks sloppy.
JILLIAN'S TREND
Go for interest. That extremely general, but take a quick gander at your hand bag. Is it solid colored? Probably a neutral color? Plain and boring? Get rid of it. Pick up something in a bright color; true red goes with a lot more than you would think. Patterns are nice, texture is a buzz word for the season. If you just can't part with black or brown, switch to something in a shiny patent leather. You'll thank me when people stop calling you a dork behind your back.
Jewelry was pretty sparse on the runways, so I'll just tell you what will not be okay:
- a bunch of necklaces in varying lengths
- the Sicilian horns - massively played out.
- nut beads and shells - over, over, over!
- crucifixes - good for keeping vampires and me away, but that's about it
JILLIAN'S TREND
I like long necklaces: a single interesting necklace, or a few of the same length and a similar feel. I just came upon a long gold rope chain with a green pingpong ball sized plastic apple hanging off it; the apple has a single leaf in gold, covered with clear rhinestones. It is, undoubtedly, the jam. I was rocking it the other day with my gold plated maple leaf pendant on a gold chain the same length (and my green galoshes, cuz that's how I roll) to much aplomb.
Bangles are still good, but lean toward one large rather than a mess of skinny ones. Plastic and notably lucite are great.
WORST FALL TRENDS 2007
1.) Shorts
Or rather, MOTHERFUCKING SHORTS. For reals, people? For cold weather? I am no proponent of shorts for any season, but Fall and Winter are just ridiculously impractical. Short shorts only look decent on the very tall and very slim. If that doesn't sound like you, guess what? You look like thick-thighed crap in your shorts. And please don't accuse me of hating on thickness in any respect, I'm plenty thick myself. I just have this ridiculous idea that you should dress to flatter what you've got rather than just wearing any old thing you found in the main display at Old Navy (or losing weight, of course). For all seasons, if you want to show your gams, put on a skirt. You are a girl (or a tranny) after all, you won't be shocking anyone and it's far more flattering.
2.) Puff sleeves
As of the last time I checked, I'm not five years old. Yes, I wear my hair in pigtails from time to time, I have a penchant for funny socks, and I just can't seem to get silly galoshes out of my system. But yet, I still look like an adult. The short puff sleeves that designers are flaunting this year are downright infantilizing. If you are over 15, you cannot do this. If you want to throw caution to the wind against my advice, you best make sure you have extremely slim upper arms. You'll look ridiculous still, but at least it won't be squeezing arm flab (hey, I have it, whatever).
3.) Neckties
Um, is Avril in the house? Cuz I left my machete at home. Surprisingly, I saw this with a lot of lines this season. It's fucked, just say no.
What the hell, how about a 3rd list while I'm on a roll....
THINGS YOU NEED TO PACK AWAY PROMPTLY
1.) The babydoll shirts
Is it a dress? Is it a shirt? Is it completely unflattering and looks like maternity wear? If you can't cinch it reasonably with a cute belt at the waist, it's gots to go. Shapeless is out, and you need at least a DD cup for a babydoll top with an empire waist to flatter you rather than just make you look fat. Yes, really.
2.) Boot cut pants or jeans
The flare at the bottom, even if it's subtle, looks very dated. If you're still sporting actual bellbottoms, I'm just going to slap you. STRAIGHT LEG! Skinny jeans and pants, wide leg, or anything in the middle: lay the pants down flat, and they shouldn't taper in or out between the knee and the ankle.
3.) Super low rise pants
Honey, didn't you get the memo? That shit is done, not that it was a fantastic idea in the first place. Can you say Muffin Top? Cuz I can, and I'm talking about you.
4.) Ugly shoes
This includes: athletic shoes that are good for actual athletics, Ugg and fake Ugg boots (hello 2001! Why won't you die?), and flats on most people. Yes, some folks can wear flats and they look great. These are people who have long slim legs, SMALL NARROW FEET, and enough definition between ankle and calf that people aren't shouting "Cankles!" out of their car windows. Please note, that doesn't describe most people. I'm above average in height and I have a pretty sexy pair of legs - yet flat shoes with a skirt on me makes me look short and dumpy. I'm a supermodel, so you can just imagine how you would look. You want comfortable shoes? Get flat, knee high boots. Those suit nearly everyone.
I hope I managed to set you all on the righteous path for Fall fashion. Please feel free to direct any follow up queries to me; I'll get together with the homeless in the alley and we'll come up with a solid solution for any of your sartorial worries. Help me help you....to not look like such a fucking douchebag. That really is the best reward.
You still won't look as good as me,
J-Illin'
Back by popular demand
Fuckin' a, people. I know you all love and adore me (who wouldn't? I'm adorable), but there are only so many hours in the day. I'm busy with some projects right now, but I'll try to be more regular about posting. I wouldn't want all of my clients going somewhere else for their evil needs...
Less scurvy, more curvy,
Jillian
Less scurvy, more curvy,
Jillian
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I'm gonna stab a bitch
[I wrote this a while ago, but it's been sitting in my drafts, unfinished, for weeks. It's rather....um....vitriolic, and I was pretty peeved when I put the brunt of this down. I'll wrap up the story and ad an update for the current situation. And then I'll publish something much more interesting and cheerful because, honestly, I'm just not feeling very bitchy today. Don't worry, it won't last.]
[Also, considering the crankiness I'm subjecting you to, I've added some photos as a special treat. The first photo is the wedding party, so you can get a good look at Shirley's crazy yellow Barbie hair. The second picture is Kim, who obviously ran afoul of the photographer. The last is the gorgeous bride and groom from my harrowing tale. Enjoy!]
Good grief, could people possibly be more selfish and shitty? For someone not really known for kindness and pleasantry, it seems a bit wrong that I take such exception to the character of a lot of individuals. They call me The Devil, yet I seem to be of the minority that actually know how to treat people.
Here's where this is coming from....
We did the wedding of Kris and Marty last Friday and, as expected, it was hectic and stressful and the usual suspects made a point of causing more grief and trouble than anything else. The usual subjects of which I speak are 3 of Kris' bridesmaids who could possibly be the most vile creatures on this earth. Selfish, rude, bitchy, lazy, indignant, and completely without a fucking clue about how to behave in any sort of proper setting. Would you fucking believe that Kim and Shirley (the maid of honor and matron of honor respectively) chatted with each other during the actual wedding ceremony? The bride and groom were appropriately shocked and pissed -- this was being videotaped for posterity after all -- but I'm terribly curious as to what they expected out of those two. I know both of those idiots and I sure as shit didn't expect them to act with any sort of composure. They're straight up trash, those two, and it is unreasonable to expect that people will change their fundamental natures just because their friend is getting married. They proved this adage a million times over the course of the wedding foolishness.
"You're only as good as your worst friend"
Go ahead and read that statement again. Absorb it, understand it, feel it, breathe it, be it....because it is entirely true. If your family is shitty, there isn't much you can do about it. But friends are the family that you get to choose, and you had better choose wisely.
I try to be a good friend, always. When my friends ask me to be responsible, I am and I'm unfailing. When my friends ask me for a favor, I do anything in my power to grant it. My friends do not have to ask me to be kind or caring or generous or honest....they know I always will be. I expect the same from them and this is the reason I have such good friends. However, I seem to be in the minority.
Kris and Marty are off in Jamaica, enjoying their honeymoon and some exciting hurricanes (stupid global warming making vacationing hard). They had asked me to take care of their myriad animals and watch their house while they are away. I work from home, which is conveniently located down the street from them, and I'm their Responsible Friend. Plus, all of the animals - save for the stupid bunny - seem to like me.
[Here's where my tirade left off, as I was interrupted by the onslaught of EVIL INTERLOPERS! I will now recap the house-sitting experience.]
"Evil interlopers? Jillian, what the fuck are you talking about now?"
Here's the sordid tale:
I hadn't planned on spending most of my time over and Kris and Marty's place. It's no effort to pop in a few times during the day, as Evil HQ is just down the street. However, while I was composing the rant above, Kim and her boyfriend just wandered on in. As we all know, I don't do Kim, so I had made a point of asking Kristin if she was planning on hanging around at their house. Kris said that Kim didn't have a key, as Kris had gotten her key back from Kim.
Guess what? She had a fucking key, walked right in, and seemed extremely put out that I was there. And why might she be annoyed that I was there? Because she wanted to search the place for a little handbag Kris had given her as a bridesmaid gift. She and her boyfriend started going through rooms and opening closets and cabinets. Needless to say, I was shocked and disgusted and put an end to that immediately. Who goes searching through someone's home when they're out of town? Fucking degenerates.
Anyhoo, I stuck around that afternoon until those fuckers finally left. They were there auspiciously to take the dog for a walk, but they didn't even do that. Naturally, I was concerned about the relative safety of Kris and Marty's stuff after what Kim was willing to perpetrate right in front of me, so I made a point of hanging out there as much as I could. And guess what else? It fucking happened again!
"Hey Jillian, you are the toughest medium-sized white girl around, didn't those shitfaces get the picture after the first time they tried to toss the joint?"
Fuck yeah, those motherfuckers did....But then Shirley came over late one night and pulled the same motherfucking stunt. Do you believe that?! Walked right in the house, shocked to see me sitting on the couch watching ANTM marathons(if you don't know, better ask somebody), lied about checking on the dog, and started rooting through the house. SHOCKING. She also had a head full of crazy, bright yellow Barbie hair sewn into her scalp (as usual) and she was very drunk. She drove over there and planned on driving home to the Joliet area. While drunk. Obviously, I was getting sick of defending my friends' place from the Evil Interlopers they thought were their friends. I made it real clear to Shirley that anything she needs at their home can be obtained from Kris and Marty when they returned home from their vacation, and that I better not see her trying this crap again. Fuckin A.
It's been a few weeks since Kris and Marty returned from the honeymoon and got my full report from while they were away. Kris has since dumped Kim and Shirley was on the shit list for a while. I told Kris, when she returned, that she was only as good as her worst friend and she seemed to take that statement to heart. At the very least, I don't have to listen to her badmouthing Kim constantly anymore.
No animals were harmed in the creation of this post,
J
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Everybody wants to be me
You know it's true.
I apologize for neglecting my journalistic duties, but it's been non-stop chaos here at Evil HQ. In case you're wondering, those crazy bitches fucking up my friends' wedding plans are still in full effect. One of them has been wailing for days about how no one came to her birthday party; she somehow interpreted my insulting her to her face as us being super good buddies and decided that I didn't show up because I was influenced by the angry bride (note: I didn't go to her birthday party because I don't like her. This is America, I don't gotta like everybody - it's in the Constitution). The other major trouble maker was trying to do damage control all weekend because I caught her on the bus obviously carrying on with a man who is not her long-term live-in boyfriend. Yeah, she's a ho, but I'd have to actually care about her to care if she was a cheating tramp - and alas, I do not. 16 days and counting until this insanity is over.
In other news...
Saturday, I attended a delightful party in honor of my friends' Jason and Erin's birthdays as well as a bon voyage for my hot piece of man meat that's moving to Japan (booooo!). One of Erin's friends brought a pinata filled with tampons, condoms and KY jelly mixed in with the candy and toys. I brought jello shots which caused, in part, an epidemic of drunkenness at the event.
This weekend is the bachelorette party for my girly who's getting hitched soon. It should be an abomination, to put it nicely. I'm bucking convention and bringing my hot ho, David, as my date. Tune in next week to see how dramatic the proceedings turned out (ooooooh, it's gonna be bad....).
I'm feeling self-indulgent today.
Considering that, I shall indulge in one of my favorite activities about one of my favorite subjects. Today's lists are all about me.
I know how badly you all want to be just like me, and why wouldn't you? I rule. Here is some handy information for you to emulate your idol (me).
Jillian like things. These things, in particular...
Jillian's favorite foods
1.) Tomatoes
Dammit, I just can't get enough. I also heard they keep the cancer away. Handy, considering all the things I do to promote cancer.
2.) Crunchy Peanut Butter
Fuckin' A, is there a finer nut-based spread than crunchy PB? I think not.
3.) Pizza
I love pizza. I would eat it for every meal if I could. My favorite is still Piece in Wicker Park, although they have a disconcerting habit of allowing metal shards to fall in the food. Unsettling but, like a gay cowboy, I just can't quit them.
4.) Caeser Salad
There was a 6 month period a few years ago where I consumed little else but caesar salads for every meal. Even breakfast. I'm sure my breath was appalling, but I couldn't control it. I've gotten my habit down to 4 or 5 a week, thanks to the Salad Patch (TM). The Salad Patch is a product I've pioneered to combat caesar addiction: it's an anchovy wrapped in lettuce taped to my upper arm. Considering the stench, it's a wonder that anyone is willing to hang out with me. Oh, I forgot....the smell of my awesomeness is far more overpowering than stinky canned fish.
5.) Creme Brulee
I make a lot of desserts, but this is the only one where I want to consume the entirety of my labors.
Special Bonus Treat
- I don't merely bask in the adoration of my fans, I give back to the people too! For your enjoyment, here's one of my favorite recipes. Go forth and take over the world with...
New Potatoes ala Jillian
I invented this recipe while working on a meal showcasing fresh summer herbs. I assumed it would keep well if I made too much, so I used 10 large new potatoes for a crowd of 5 people. There was a ton of other dishes, but the potatoes were still decimated. The only conclusion I can come to is that this is the most delicious potato preparation in the world.
--New potatoes (the ones with the red skins) : go with about twice as much as you think everybody will eat, 2 large or 3 medium potatoes per person.
--Unripened goat cheese, also called Chevre (it's very soft and creamy, looks like a white log)
--Extra virgin olive oil
--Heavy whipping cream
--Fresh garlic, and do not even try using the minced garlic in a jar. I'll find you and beat you.
--Chopped fresh chives
--Salt and pepper to taste
I never measure anything when I'm cooking, but I'll say the directions below work for approximately 10 largish new potatoes. Increase or reduce appropriately according to your needs.
With skins on, cut potatoes into 1 inch chunks and boil until soft. Combine 5 ounces Chevre, 1/3 cup olive oil, 1/3 cup heavy whipping cream, and 5 or 6 large garlic cloves - diced finely. [Note: the fresh garlic is key because it's so pungent in the recipe that it's almost spicy. You do not get the same effect from the garbage in the jar, so don't mess]. Using a hand mixer, whip the mixture until fluffy - 2 to 3 minutes. Add 1/4 cup freshly shopped chives and mix lightly. Drain potato chunks, allow to cool slightly, and combine with goat cheese mixture. Serve to guests and enjoy being called a culinary genius.
Jillian's Favorite Movies
Looking for some entertainment? Just ask yourself "WWJR?" -- What would Jillian rent?
1.) Anything by Pedro Almodovar.
This bitch is a motherfucking genius. He writes and directs all of his films, and they run the gamut from horror/fantasy (Pan's Labrynth) to unsettling romances (Talk to Her). I'm delighted that the P-man has gotten so much notoriety in the U.S as of late, do yourself a favor and check his shit out. My personal favorite is Bad Education which, of course, should be your personal favorite too.
2.) Big Trouble in Little China
"We really shook the pillars of heaven last night, didn't we?" Yes, you did, sir; yes, you most certainly did.
3.) Blade and Blade II
Everybody knows I enjoy me some monsters. Add super awesome sword fights and an astoundingly dry performance by Wesley Snipes, and it's about the best thing in the world. Also, if you've not heard, the first few minutes of Blade is the finest opening scene ever conceived in any movie ever made ever in the world. And if you've not heard that, where the hell have you been?
4.) The Golden Child
I am fully aware that Eddie Murphy is a dumb douche bag and all of the movies he's made recently are....how to put it?....um, let's just say EXTREMELY EMBARRASSING for him. Allow me to take a moment to address Mr. Murphy directly:
An Open Letter to Eddie Murphy
Yo! Eddie, my man! How's things?
Actually, buddy, I know how things are. They're pretty fucked up for you these days. You knocked up Ugly Spice and tried to deny that the kid was yours. Dude, I was was shocked too to find out that she wasn't a post-op transsexual, but isn't the threat of AIDS and the dreaded syphillerpes enough impetus for you to put a damn condom on? Have some sense. And speaking of having sense, we need to chat about the movies you've been doing.
Norbit? For reals? I know how much you like dressing up as overweight women; this is a quirk your close friends have been dealing with for many years now. But me and your bros are more than a little concerned that you're parading your sick proclivities for all the world to see. Crossdressing is cool, but fat suits are just deviant. Yeah, you were funny as the donkey in the first two Shrek movies, but I heard the third one is a giant steaming pile of feces. Not to mention that these are kid's films. Really, E to the M, what gives?
An intervention is in order, my friend. You're coming over tonight and we're going to watch The Golden Child: not only your finest work, but possibly the best movie ever made. I know it's going to hurt to see how far you've fallen, but we have to do this. Kev, Lil' G, and Pookie are coming over too and we've got all your favorites: Bold n Zesty Chex Mix, roasted suckling pig, white zinfandel, and pineapple Boone's Farm. Just don't make this a repeat of when you came over last week; that hooker you brought left coke all over the bathroom and stole a bunch of my panties. Viva Nepal!
With Love,
Your best friend Jillian
That's it for now, my darlings. I must get back to work spreading the word of the Dark Lord and returning my overdue library books. Truly, there is no rest for the wicked. Wicked awesome, that is!
Check yourselves before you wreck yourselves,
J-Killa
I apologize for neglecting my journalistic duties, but it's been non-stop chaos here at Evil HQ. In case you're wondering, those crazy bitches fucking up my friends' wedding plans are still in full effect. One of them has been wailing for days about how no one came to her birthday party; she somehow interpreted my insulting her to her face as us being super good buddies and decided that I didn't show up because I was influenced by the angry bride (note: I didn't go to her birthday party because I don't like her. This is America, I don't gotta like everybody - it's in the Constitution). The other major trouble maker was trying to do damage control all weekend because I caught her on the bus obviously carrying on with a man who is not her long-term live-in boyfriend. Yeah, she's a ho, but I'd have to actually care about her to care if she was a cheating tramp - and alas, I do not. 16 days and counting until this insanity is over.
In other news...
Saturday, I attended a delightful party in honor of my friends' Jason and Erin's birthdays as well as a bon voyage for my hot piece of man meat that's moving to Japan (booooo!). One of Erin's friends brought a pinata filled with tampons, condoms and KY jelly mixed in with the candy and toys. I brought jello shots which caused, in part, an epidemic of drunkenness at the event.
This weekend is the bachelorette party for my girly who's getting hitched soon. It should be an abomination, to put it nicely. I'm bucking convention and bringing my hot ho, David, as my date. Tune in next week to see how dramatic the proceedings turned out (ooooooh, it's gonna be bad....).
I'm feeling self-indulgent today.
Considering that, I shall indulge in one of my favorite activities about one of my favorite subjects. Today's lists are all about me.
I know how badly you all want to be just like me, and why wouldn't you? I rule. Here is some handy information for you to emulate your idol (me).
Jillian like things. These things, in particular...
Jillian's favorite foods
1.) Tomatoes
Dammit, I just can't get enough. I also heard they keep the cancer away. Handy, considering all the things I do to promote cancer.
2.) Crunchy Peanut Butter
Fuckin' A, is there a finer nut-based spread than crunchy PB? I think not.
3.) Pizza
I love pizza. I would eat it for every meal if I could. My favorite is still Piece in Wicker Park, although they have a disconcerting habit of allowing metal shards to fall in the food. Unsettling but, like a gay cowboy, I just can't quit them.
4.) Caeser Salad
There was a 6 month period a few years ago where I consumed little else but caesar salads for every meal. Even breakfast. I'm sure my breath was appalling, but I couldn't control it. I've gotten my habit down to 4 or 5 a week, thanks to the Salad Patch (TM). The Salad Patch is a product I've pioneered to combat caesar addiction: it's an anchovy wrapped in lettuce taped to my upper arm. Considering the stench, it's a wonder that anyone is willing to hang out with me. Oh, I forgot....the smell of my awesomeness is far more overpowering than stinky canned fish.
5.) Creme Brulee
I make a lot of desserts, but this is the only one where I want to consume the entirety of my labors.
Special Bonus Treat
- I don't merely bask in the adoration of my fans, I give back to the people too! For your enjoyment, here's one of my favorite recipes. Go forth and take over the world with...
New Potatoes ala Jillian
I invented this recipe while working on a meal showcasing fresh summer herbs. I assumed it would keep well if I made too much, so I used 10 large new potatoes for a crowd of 5 people. There was a ton of other dishes, but the potatoes were still decimated. The only conclusion I can come to is that this is the most delicious potato preparation in the world.
--New potatoes (the ones with the red skins) : go with about twice as much as you think everybody will eat, 2 large or 3 medium potatoes per person.
--Unripened goat cheese, also called Chevre (it's very soft and creamy, looks like a white log)
--Extra virgin olive oil
--Heavy whipping cream
--Fresh garlic, and do not even try using the minced garlic in a jar. I'll find you and beat you.
--Chopped fresh chives
--Salt and pepper to taste
I never measure anything when I'm cooking, but I'll say the directions below work for approximately 10 largish new potatoes. Increase or reduce appropriately according to your needs.
With skins on, cut potatoes into 1 inch chunks and boil until soft. Combine 5 ounces Chevre, 1/3 cup olive oil, 1/3 cup heavy whipping cream, and 5 or 6 large garlic cloves - diced finely. [Note: the fresh garlic is key because it's so pungent in the recipe that it's almost spicy. You do not get the same effect from the garbage in the jar, so don't mess]. Using a hand mixer, whip the mixture until fluffy - 2 to 3 minutes. Add 1/4 cup freshly shopped chives and mix lightly. Drain potato chunks, allow to cool slightly, and combine with goat cheese mixture. Serve to guests and enjoy being called a culinary genius.
Jillian's Favorite Movies
Looking for some entertainment? Just ask yourself "WWJR?" -- What would Jillian rent?
1.) Anything by Pedro Almodovar.
This bitch is a motherfucking genius. He writes and directs all of his films, and they run the gamut from horror/fantasy (Pan's Labrynth) to unsettling romances (Talk to Her). I'm delighted that the P-man has gotten so much notoriety in the U.S as of late, do yourself a favor and check his shit out. My personal favorite is Bad Education which, of course, should be your personal favorite too.
2.) Big Trouble in Little China
"We really shook the pillars of heaven last night, didn't we?" Yes, you did, sir; yes, you most certainly did.
3.) Blade and Blade II
Everybody knows I enjoy me some monsters. Add super awesome sword fights and an astoundingly dry performance by Wesley Snipes, and it's about the best thing in the world. Also, if you've not heard, the first few minutes of Blade is the finest opening scene ever conceived in any movie ever made ever in the world. And if you've not heard that, where the hell have you been?
4.) The Golden Child
I am fully aware that Eddie Murphy is a dumb douche bag and all of the movies he's made recently are....how to put it?....um, let's just say EXTREMELY EMBARRASSING for him. Allow me to take a moment to address Mr. Murphy directly:
An Open Letter to Eddie Murphy
Yo! Eddie, my man! How's things?
Actually, buddy, I know how things are. They're pretty fucked up for you these days. You knocked up Ugly Spice and tried to deny that the kid was yours. Dude, I was was shocked too to find out that she wasn't a post-op transsexual, but isn't the threat of AIDS and the dreaded syphillerpes enough impetus for you to put a damn condom on? Have some sense. And speaking of having sense, we need to chat about the movies you've been doing.
Norbit? For reals? I know how much you like dressing up as overweight women; this is a quirk your close friends have been dealing with for many years now. But me and your bros are more than a little concerned that you're parading your sick proclivities for all the world to see. Crossdressing is cool, but fat suits are just deviant. Yeah, you were funny as the donkey in the first two Shrek movies, but I heard the third one is a giant steaming pile of feces. Not to mention that these are kid's films. Really, E to the M, what gives?
An intervention is in order, my friend. You're coming over tonight and we're going to watch The Golden Child: not only your finest work, but possibly the best movie ever made. I know it's going to hurt to see how far you've fallen, but we have to do this. Kev, Lil' G, and Pookie are coming over too and we've got all your favorites: Bold n Zesty Chex Mix, roasted suckling pig, white zinfandel, and pineapple Boone's Farm. Just don't make this a repeat of when you came over last week; that hooker you brought left coke all over the bathroom and stole a bunch of my panties. Viva Nepal!
With Love,
Your best friend Jillian
That's it for now, my darlings. I must get back to work spreading the word of the Dark Lord and returning my overdue library books. Truly, there is no rest for the wicked. Wicked awesome, that is!
Check yourselves before you wreck yourselves,
J-Killa
Monday, July 16, 2007
Holy crap, why does anyone do this?
Those of you that don't know me well may be surprised to learn how little of my actual personal life is committed to this page. You read correctly: I hold a lot back, and the entries here are a mere fraction of my day to day insanity. Aside from pondering ways you can hang out with me every day, I'm sure you're curious as to why someone as generally candid as I leaves the more personal information out. I have a few reasons. My friends probably wouldn't be too keen on being blog fodder for much more than their drunken antics, and I respect them enough not to skewer them too badly in a public forum. I don't mention my romantic life either because I wouldn't want to bust on my super mad game. I ain't a player, I just crush a lot.
So, it is with some trepidation that I compose the following tale. I call it...
THIS FUCKING WEDDING IS DRIVING MY ASS CRAZY
Some good friends of mine are getting married next month, and I am stuck being a bridesmaid. That, really, is a bad enough fate. However, as of the weekend, I have realized what a nightmare this event may turn out to be. Do you know what the problem is? The other fucking bridesmaids. For the sake of diplomacy and my friend's sanity, I've been playing nice with this gaggle of self-involved bitches for a few months now....but my patience is waning.
I am not a wedding fan. Sure, it's fun to go to them and get shit-faced, but being involved in the planning of such events is a particular torture unto itself. Super dooper for anybody who is actually into this trifling crap: I really don't care what you like and I'm not here to say marriage is stupid or wrong. I don't give a fuck about marriage: It's probably not for me, but that's not the point. Weddings are stupid and wrong. The planning, the high expectations that everything be perfect....and, apparently, finding the dumbest, rudest, most inconsiderate women you can find to be involved in said event.
Now that last statement is awfully inflammatory, but I concede it is based on my current wedding experience and a rerun of Bridezillas on TV. That's about all the ammo I require for a crass generalization.
Needless to say, I am very disappointed in the majority of bridesmaids involved in the upcoming nuptials. I'm sure it's not a stretch for persons who've never planned a wedding themselves to understand what a large undertaking it is and that it may prove stressful. Why is it, then, that these bitches feel the need to cause extra problems? In fact, the only problems with the wedding so far have been regarding these women. They aren't all bad: there's myself and one particular lesbian that actually make an effort to be useful for our friend. Allow me to repeat: OUR FRIEND. Not some hated relation that's roped these girls into wedding servitude: someone who, in theory, is a close friend of all parties discussed here. What gives?
I'm sure you're thinking "What could they have pulled to elicit such ire, Jillian?" (in addition to being the best-dressed and most interesting person you know, I am also psychic). "Perhaps you just have a low tolerance for dumb peoples' dumb antics, or you're merely bitter for having to show up in public swaddled in lilac polyester satin." While that's not exactly untrue, these chicks have really pulled some crap:
* At the bridal shower yesterday, only 2 of 7 bridesmaids showed up. YEAH, THE FUCKING BRIDAL SHOWER. I would rather undergo bowel surgery, spend a week in a sealed container full of corpses, or wear Sketchers than go to a motherfucking bridal shower. Yet, I was there (getting drunk). Not fucking cool, guys. The bride and groom were genuinely hurt and upset.
I mildly admonished one of these ho's via myspace earlier today, and she thought she was going to try and put me in my place by giving me a sob story about her "if you must know, health problems" that magically and mysteriously cropped up out of the ether on a Sunday afternoon. First off - come on, girl, stop lying. She told the groom earlier in the day that she had cramps, not the ominous "health problems" she was trying to sell me today. And any woman of drinking age knows that claiming cramps on a Sunday afternoon to get out of a boring event means you're hungover. This girl was barely a blip before, but now I really have no respect for her. I'm not giving the others who skipped out a pass on this; they're dicks too, but at least they had better sense than to hurl some overly defensive bullshit at me so I know clearly that they're liars.
*One particularly insane attendant refuses to purchase a hideous lilac dress in a size that fits her. Oh yes, she is one of that obnoxious breed that think her self-worth is somehow linked to the size of clothing she wears. I'm fully aware that she doesn't have a shred of common sense a good portion of the time, but this is completely ridiculous. I'm typically an 8, but the monstrosity I purchased is a 12. Oh well, nobody can see the size on the tag while I'm wearing it even if I did care about such a trivial thing. The loony in question fit nicely into a 14, but ordered a 12 anyway. The 12 arrived and she can't even get into the thing. Instead of ordering a new dress that fits, she plans to starve herself down a few sizes before the wedding. In 3 weeks.
I already know how this is going to turn out: she won't be able to fit into her dress, she'll throw a dramatic tantrum and refuse to be in the wedding, the bride will freak out and start crying, and I'll have to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and deal with the problem. Oh, and take apart loony's dress so I can perform some field alterations and sew her into the damn thing moments before the ceremony. I am not looking forward to this.
* Two of the bridesmaids have planned the lamest goddamn bachelorette party ever. EVER. I won't go into details, I'll only say Come on, ladies! The last I checked we weren't all sheltered middle age housewives and neither is the bride. LAME!
These are only a few examples of how little these girls care for their friend. It's real shitty and I may be forced to come up with a new threat to get these bitches in line for the wedding. Perhaps offering to get an air rifle for the bride for the day of the wedding - they know, as well as I do, that the bride will open fire on everyone even close to causing trouble. Mostly, I'm just shocked at how jerky they're being overall. If anyone has some good suggestions for dealing with these bitches, please comment. I've tried diplomacy and logic, but that's a losing proposition with this crowd. Right now, my best idea is to slip them some drugs that would make them more amenable without falling down or losing consciousness.
To the bride and groom: If you even read this page, sorry for dragging your shit out but I needed to vent. I can always take the post down if you like. Kisses.
To the bridesmaids: I'd be very surprised to find out you read this, mostly that you can actually read (ohh, that was low, but I don't much bother being nice to people I'm indifferent to at best). Anything I've said about you is, unfortunately, very true. Instead of bothering me with your outrage --again, I don't care if you don't like what I say, so save your breathe-- be less of an asshole to your friend.
This is what I get for caring,
J
So, it is with some trepidation that I compose the following tale. I call it...
THIS FUCKING WEDDING IS DRIVING MY ASS CRAZY
Some good friends of mine are getting married next month, and I am stuck being a bridesmaid. That, really, is a bad enough fate. However, as of the weekend, I have realized what a nightmare this event may turn out to be. Do you know what the problem is? The other fucking bridesmaids. For the sake of diplomacy and my friend's sanity, I've been playing nice with this gaggle of self-involved bitches for a few months now....but my patience is waning.
I am not a wedding fan. Sure, it's fun to go to them and get shit-faced, but being involved in the planning of such events is a particular torture unto itself. Super dooper for anybody who is actually into this trifling crap: I really don't care what you like and I'm not here to say marriage is stupid or wrong. I don't give a fuck about marriage: It's probably not for me, but that's not the point. Weddings are stupid and wrong. The planning, the high expectations that everything be perfect....and, apparently, finding the dumbest, rudest, most inconsiderate women you can find to be involved in said event.
Now that last statement is awfully inflammatory, but I concede it is based on my current wedding experience and a rerun of Bridezillas on TV. That's about all the ammo I require for a crass generalization.
Needless to say, I am very disappointed in the majority of bridesmaids involved in the upcoming nuptials. I'm sure it's not a stretch for persons who've never planned a wedding themselves to understand what a large undertaking it is and that it may prove stressful. Why is it, then, that these bitches feel the need to cause extra problems? In fact, the only problems with the wedding so far have been regarding these women. They aren't all bad: there's myself and one particular lesbian that actually make an effort to be useful for our friend. Allow me to repeat: OUR FRIEND. Not some hated relation that's roped these girls into wedding servitude: someone who, in theory, is a close friend of all parties discussed here. What gives?
I'm sure you're thinking "What could they have pulled to elicit such ire, Jillian?" (in addition to being the best-dressed and most interesting person you know, I am also psychic). "Perhaps you just have a low tolerance for dumb peoples' dumb antics, or you're merely bitter for having to show up in public swaddled in lilac polyester satin." While that's not exactly untrue, these chicks have really pulled some crap:
* At the bridal shower yesterday, only 2 of 7 bridesmaids showed up. YEAH, THE FUCKING BRIDAL SHOWER. I would rather undergo bowel surgery, spend a week in a sealed container full of corpses, or wear Sketchers than go to a motherfucking bridal shower. Yet, I was there (getting drunk). Not fucking cool, guys. The bride and groom were genuinely hurt and upset.
I mildly admonished one of these ho's via myspace earlier today, and she thought she was going to try and put me in my place by giving me a sob story about her "if you must know, health problems" that magically and mysteriously cropped up out of the ether on a Sunday afternoon. First off - come on, girl, stop lying. She told the groom earlier in the day that she had cramps, not the ominous "health problems" she was trying to sell me today. And any woman of drinking age knows that claiming cramps on a Sunday afternoon to get out of a boring event means you're hungover. This girl was barely a blip before, but now I really have no respect for her. I'm not giving the others who skipped out a pass on this; they're dicks too, but at least they had better sense than to hurl some overly defensive bullshit at me so I know clearly that they're liars.
*One particularly insane attendant refuses to purchase a hideous lilac dress in a size that fits her. Oh yes, she is one of that obnoxious breed that think her self-worth is somehow linked to the size of clothing she wears. I'm fully aware that she doesn't have a shred of common sense a good portion of the time, but this is completely ridiculous. I'm typically an 8, but the monstrosity I purchased is a 12. Oh well, nobody can see the size on the tag while I'm wearing it even if I did care about such a trivial thing. The loony in question fit nicely into a 14, but ordered a 12 anyway. The 12 arrived and she can't even get into the thing. Instead of ordering a new dress that fits, she plans to starve herself down a few sizes before the wedding. In 3 weeks.
I already know how this is going to turn out: she won't be able to fit into her dress, she'll throw a dramatic tantrum and refuse to be in the wedding, the bride will freak out and start crying, and I'll have to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and deal with the problem. Oh, and take apart loony's dress so I can perform some field alterations and sew her into the damn thing moments before the ceremony. I am not looking forward to this.
* Two of the bridesmaids have planned the lamest goddamn bachelorette party ever. EVER. I won't go into details, I'll only say Come on, ladies! The last I checked we weren't all sheltered middle age housewives and neither is the bride. LAME!
These are only a few examples of how little these girls care for their friend. It's real shitty and I may be forced to come up with a new threat to get these bitches in line for the wedding. Perhaps offering to get an air rifle for the bride for the day of the wedding - they know, as well as I do, that the bride will open fire on everyone even close to causing trouble. Mostly, I'm just shocked at how jerky they're being overall. If anyone has some good suggestions for dealing with these bitches, please comment. I've tried diplomacy and logic, but that's a losing proposition with this crowd. Right now, my best idea is to slip them some drugs that would make them more amenable without falling down or losing consciousness.
To the bride and groom: If you even read this page, sorry for dragging your shit out but I needed to vent. I can always take the post down if you like. Kisses.
To the bridesmaids: I'd be very surprised to find out you read this, mostly that you can actually read (ohh, that was low, but I don't much bother being nice to people I'm indifferent to at best). Anything I've said about you is, unfortunately, very true. Instead of bothering me with your outrage --again, I don't care if you don't like what I say, so save your breathe-- be less of an asshole to your friend.
This is what I get for caring,
J
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