email with gmail, the address is weetiny
This story/fraud comes on the heels of Madoff and his monstrous ponzi scheme. WTF? Why does this kind of greed exist? I wouldn't turn down a million dollars if it showed up unannounced on my doorstep, but it wouldn't make me wonder how to trick people into growing it to a billion.
I am transferring all my funds to the safest place I can think of. My mattress.
* c/o BusinessWeek
"Today, I took my friend to buy a pregancy test. She took it and it came out negative. I decided to re-pee on it to be funny...it turned to positive." -FML
"Today, my boss fired me via text message. I don't have a text messaging plan. I paid $0.25 to get fired." FML
"Today, I was tutoring kids at an elementary school. One kid messed up my hair. I said, "Why'd you do that??" He said, "I have lice, now you have lice too!" FML
*all from fmylife.com
Designer to Editor: Please proof read the attached copy. Thanks.
Editor to Designer: The line "The best part of You IN Me" should be "The best part of Me IS You". We don't work for Larry Flynt here.
Designer to Editor: Oh, tight. I mean right.
*gives a whole new twist to Valentine's Day!
Late last week I was tagged on Facebook (by just about everyone - thanks). It was my duty to provide 25 random facts about myself. If you are my friend on Facebook then you already know that I barely use the thing. It serves to facilitate my love of spying on people from my present and past. Oh. I guess that brings us to number one.
1. I like to spy. Your medicine cabinet is my treasure chest. If you have a problem with that, don't let me pee at your house (rude) or don't invite me over (which I totally understand).
2. 23. The best number ever. In numerology it is The Royal Star of the Lion (very fortunate) and mathematically, it's the number of chaos. Awesome.
3. I love words. I have the soul of a writer, but not the patience.
4. Anything delivered to the office. Flowers. Lunch. Goldfish. I heart deliveries!
5. I hate people who are rude, fishy, cold or boring. Say something when I meet you!
6. I listen to pop music. I watch gossip girl. I am nearly 30.
7. At one point in my life I did not understand The Orange. Why eat an orange when there are clementines? Why drink orange juice when there is tangerine juice? I even disliked the color. I am over all that now and happily I LOVE orange and oranges and orange juice.
8. Movies are not a good first date idea with me.
9. I read like it is going out of style. I will read just about anything. But if I decide I don't like it, I'll never go back to it.
10. I love to grocery shop!
11. I have a slightly photographic memory.
12. If I ever have a dog, they are NOT allowed in the bed. Or kids for that matter.
13. Listening to the same song over and over is a habit.
14. What I did before the internet, I have no idea.
15. To play the cello again is a goal.
16. There is not a day that I don't remember that I had cancer.
17. My freshman year of college I got so drunk, I walked off a second story balcony and got stuck in a tree. It took 2 hours to get me out. The next morning when I walked into the cafeteria, everyone clapped.
18. I HATE tampon commercials. Seriously, somethings do not need to be advertised.
19. Since I started this job I daily wonder if it is alright to blog about the bathroom. I am all for the courtesy flush, but 4? If that is what it takes - take your ass home! You are sick! Get away from me!!
20. I once had a boyfriend who was afraid of the word thick. THICK!!
21. I am an aries, born in the year of the sheep. That's a lot of legs to master!
22. At one point in my life I had 9 grandparents.
23. Learning to be alone (as an adult) is the best/hardest thing I have had to do.
24. The whole time I have been compiling this list I have been listening to Snow Partol's Crack the Shutters. On repeat.
25. I WANT TO BE SET FOR LIFE.
P is brilliant. I am not at all biased, though. The other day she said, "go away mommy, I'm using this bathroom!" She was rifling through the drawers, having circumvented the child proof latches. Such a foreshadowing of what's to come when she is a teenager. She spelled "G-O-O-D-Y-E-A-R" yesterday when she was standing by my tire. F'ing brilliant!
Indeed my friend! Congrats on your little monster, at your next dinner party I am teaching her the Monster Mash, watch out!!
A story, in two parts.
Saturday night I had occasion to dine at Maestro's. It was an evening of classics. A late reservation, a dirty martini followed by shrimp cocktails and perfectly seared fillets paired with creamed spinach. A classic American dinner accompanied by a lovely '03 Chateauneuf du Pape. Our patio table kept us away from the crush of the crowded upstairs bar and invited plenty of people watching.
Enter the object of my desire. The Monkey Fur Coat. She passed by our table swathed in a cloud of black. The long monkey hairs danced in the breeze, like a Tim Burton ballet. I had to know, was that actually Monkey Fur?
At first she wouldn't tell me. I assured her I was not in the business of destroying works of art. Her face brightened and she nearly stumbled (in her high patent leather booties) before she slyly informed me, "It's vintage Monkey." I wanted to grab the hair and toss her out of that coat, right over the balcony.
Perhaps you have never seen a Monkey Fur Coat. You have not been besotted by it's sheen, or enchanted by its dark, delicate nature. If coats were people, she would be that slightly drunken French girl, softly singing in the back of a dark restaurant in the Marais, at a table alone. You would not be able to take your eyes off of her. All black hair and white skin, unfocused eyes, wistful melodies. Until she looks at you. Even before she does, you know it. You're in love with her.
Now, snap out of it! We're not in Paris after all. The poor girl in the coat was terrified to tell me what it was! We live in California where fur is taboo. It rarely gets cold enough to actually need fur. For years I have struggled with my closet of furs. They were passed on to me after several deaths and years of languishing in trunks and closets. Anything with a head or all its legs still attached were shipped directly to a Hollywood prop house. They were creepy.
But I kept the blonde mink bolero. And the short beaver cape. Over the years I have added to and swapped out fur pieces. In fact this Christmas I parted with the grey fox collar car coat that was a Valentine's present (a million years ago!). Sparkles loves it and it fits her better than it ever fit me. My one standing rule with fur is that it must be vintage. I reason that if it has been dead longer than I have been alive, it's fair game. Oh, the word play.
How can one love something so confused and cruel as fur? They say all things in love are fair. And this is love.
*ps anyone wanting to add a monkey fur coat to my closet, size small and hip length. thanks!
