Crazy People Don't Know They're Going Crazy, Right?

I need a dream dictionary or a psychic or a psychiatrist.

Last night I dreamed the following scenario:

John Cusack was my boyfriend. We were making out in our station wagon (the old kind), which was filled to the ceiling with high heeled shoes in the back. (?!)

In this dream, I complained to my boyfriend John Cusack that he had a) not done a decent film in a long time (true), and that b) he had worn a long, black trench coat in almost every movie he's ever done. My boyfriend John Cusack leaned over and kissed me adeiux...and told me our chauffeur, John (!) Goodman would be driving me around for the rest of the day.

So, John Goodman drove me here and there (for reasons uncertain we were in the South), and I stepped out of the car to get Mexican food, but as I did so, the sky, lowered like a remote control ceiling. It got very black with fast moving clouds and it began to pour. Torrentially. Apocolyptically.

I got back into the car. I felt a hot burn on my left leg. I thought this was a cigarette, for some reason, but it was actually John Goodman's hand. It was not perverse, it just was.

Cut to John Goodman and I going to an ice cream shop, where we waited for John Cusack to show up, in his black trench coat.

Is John Cusack the grim reaper?

WHY were there 2 "Johns"?

What do the high heels in the back signify?

What does it all mean?

hahaha...yeah....

Creative interpretations welcome.

The Birds and the Bees

Here's a cause newly close to my heart - the Honeybee crisis, y'all!

Alot of people don't seem to know this, but our honeybees, are "houdini-ing" as I like to say cutely, but mean quite seriously. They are vanishing. Think about this.
1. One out of every three bites of food every (*average) American eats is directly attributed to honeybee pollination.
2. More than 25% of the Western honey bee population has vanished over the last several winters, which poses a serious risk to our natural food supply.
3. Scientists do not know what is causing the Colony Collapse Disorder but its happenin' with no signs of slowing. And that's not good "bee-haviour". (sorry, for my dad jokes)(honey)

So...as if you need an excuse to eat ICE CREAM.....Haagen Daaz has invented a special flavor for the cause - Vanilla Honeybee. MMMM. Proceeds from sales of the deliciousness go towards research.
Click on the colors here for the tres-cool microsite which, is sort of beautiful and has lots of tiny bees flying around with "SOS" signs, and includes interesting, helpful information and factoids.
You can navigate around via the hive on the left and even design your own personal character & Bee Mail!
Grab your sundae spoon. Zoom around the links I've provided above.
Summertime.
Philanthropy.
Give the colony a hand.

POST-SCRIPT (this just in):

Smolinski Stefanie to me show details 5:11 PM (15 minutes ago)
Please add my Honey Bee to your blog. It's attached. I sort of modeled it after you. Only sort of, now don't go getting a big head.

Come Hungry, Leave Happy

Dear Diary sorry, Dear God, its been a week since my last confession I oughtsta been ashamed amaself. Thick as thieves friend in town visiting, lots of rock and roll shows at various nightclubs, work, debauchery etc.

Here's the best I've got for you today, sloppy and random (you can't tap dance 24/7 you know).

1. The IHOP commercial for their new, Tour de French Toast is pretty much a piece of fucking art. The thought that professional athletes would be motivated in their race by an international house of pancakes finish line is simply hilarious.

2. Last week I went to pick up some chicken Pad Thai at ThaiNY (pronounced "tiny" - getit!?) and there was a man sitting in the window of the restaurant whom I had been friendly with twelve years ago, up until he sent me his wisdom teeth in a shrunken manila envelope as a romantic gesture (Van Gogh's ear?).

Sometimes I think about getting those teeth in the mail and it makes me delighted and impressed, and in other moods it creeps the hell out of me, but points for (insert originality-desperateromanticmeasures or something here). We made eye contact and both quickly shifted our glances, but I know that in that second I was thinking "you sent me your wisdom teeth" and he was thinking "I sent that girl my wisdom teeth."

As I paid for my food and grabbed my "I heart NY" white plastic takeout bag, I passed his date, who was returning to their table to join him. I wondered what he might do to her when he got her home, and what it might take to set fire to that guys heart-pants.

3. I find it incredibly strange, that in conversations with married couples, they sometimes say things like "We're trying to have kids," because immediately all you can think of is those people doing it nonstop, whether you like that mental image or not. It's a really bizarre, socially accepted thing to say, in my ten cent opinion.

Snapshots Born in Brooklyn

I can't believe this exists in NY. My sister lives near it. I mean, really! Like an Irish Spring commercial!

Roscoe.
Ha, Population: 1.  

They have "bored" games there, too.

This is my sister's front door. The real dog inside- not quite as menacing as this guy, but I like this as a middle finger to would-be burglars! (Also, is it me or does this dog look like he's sort of smiling for his close up?)

Engrish Crass

Oh my god. The movie Gung Ho (1986) is on HBO this morning.

It stars (the best Batman, obv) Michael Keaton, George Wendt (Norm from "Cheers") AND Long Duck Dong from "16 Candles". 

It is described on the "info" button as being (and. I. Quote.)

 "Autoworkers meet Oriental discipline in a U.S. plant reopened."

The movie's tagline was (and. I. Quote):

"When East meets West the laughs shift into high gear!"

The synopsis describes the "seemingly inhumane Japanese work ethic".

hahahahah.

Oriental. Discipline.

What's funny is that this movie would never, ever, get made today.

It's full of more racial stereotypes than the Genesis video for Illegal Alien

(which features Phil Collins in a wearing a sombrero and sporting a Zapata moustache

in case there was any confusion about which ethnicity the song is about, greengo! arriba!)

Hirarious.

I wonder what Michael Moore would think.

Ice Cream, You Scream

Cinco
de Mayo


worm
in my apple


i'm
going
to sleep
my way to the middle


what with,
plan A

in the toilet
and all


on Sunday
(quatro de mayo)


I was on Sullivan
Street thinking
of
that Bridgette Bardot
poem
by Chinaski
where he says
"running through
an arcade of roses
and screaming"


that's practically childhood
in a nutshell


and it makes me insane
its so pretty


I mean, it really
strangles you


with beauty


i plucked cigarettes
like daisy petals from
the box


(to kill the suspense of life)


and
skip to dessert


(lovesmenot.the end)


Dracula
you've got
ketchup
on your shirt,


I've been waking
up in the dark
cool
night


with memories


that come back
of
all those
lovers


like a ski mask
in a horror

flick


even from behind
after


I shot them
dead.


I don't know what I'd
ask you
now


Can you imagine
Sylvia Plath
in math class


or Bukowski on a Mac


(me neither)


there's a sorbet
named
"berried alive"
and
I like that


I was thinking
all
this

while I stood
in line


at Starbucks


& listened
to all the
white women


bitch about their
lattes


yes, that was
right about the time



I came back from
the dead


cheerleaders

in my spine &



ringing telephones and


I can't wait to
see your
face


again.


I don't want to be

your
Yoko Ono,


I want to be


your
Maria Callas,

stupid.

Pillowcase full of Stilletos

I'm a marathon insomniac. I remember my parents "putting me to bed" when I was a little thing, and laying there, staring at the loyal ceiling for four or five hours at a span, just....imagining. Oh woe is me, it's the CROSS I BEAR.

So when people give me "counting sheep" remedies, I think its cute and sweet but it doesn't really pay the sandman, you know? He just breaks my dreamy kneecaps and goes merrily on his way.

Anyways, A friend of mine asked me to write a song for him (a "new" for me)so I'm trying that on for pajamas. I don't know how what it is to "rhyme" but I'll try to find my inner lyrical gangsta.

Despite all this drowsy, thousand pound eyelid bullshit, I found something so funny. Radar magazine just published "100 reasons you can't sleep". Here's my favorites:

17. You smoke in bed. Specifically, hickory bacon

22. You're the world's biggest fan of whatever piece of shit is on at 3 a.m

77. Your man didn't love you right

27. Filled humidifier with Red Bull

30. Constantly interrupted by Christmas ghosts

42. Trying to catch 24-hour laundromat in a lie

55. Dreamland is actually a total shithole

64. Seems like a waste of a hooker, no?

83. Keep hearing heartbeat of guy buried alive in the wall

98. Contract with the devil expired 45 minutes ago

94. Suddenly realized you chose the past most traveled.

ha.

Champagne Wishes.

Caviar Dreams.