I'm not saying Cloverfield, but I'm gonna have to say Cloverfield

Earlier today, I was tipped off about an incident that took place on Long Island this morning. Apparently, this thing washed up on a beach in Montauk:



Are you thinking "What the eff is that?" I am. And I've been staring at the photo for little over an hour. Oh, it's also 4:15 a.m. This is what I do when I can't sleep. I geek out about possible monster carcasses and blog.

So what do you think it is? Rumors are circulating that the creature is a dead dog. If this is the case, I don't ever want a dog. I would never be able to look at it the same way. And if the thing ever got pissed off at me, I would naturally assume it would take the form of whatever washed up on the beach at Montauk and eat my face off.

Others are saying that the monster is a turtle, minus the shell. If this is the case, I now understand why turtles have shells in the first place - they are uggo. Fuggo actually.

I'm going to go with the hypothesis that this is a retarded version of the monster from Cloverfield. Or maybe it's the baby of a bigger monster yet to come. All I know is this - monsters can read blogs so I'm obviously on the list of people to eat if this thing ever emerges from the ocean, I'm hightailing it overseas. They've dealt with Godzilla. They can certainly deal with this.

The meanest thing I've ever said is...

"Man, The Diary of Ann Frank doesn't hold a candle to Project Runway."

- Mary Ann, 2008

Batman is WHOA!

Unless you have been sitting in a dark room with no contact what so ever with the outside world, you are probably aware of the Batman craze sweeping the world at the moment.

I for one have been a Batman fan since my youth. From the original 1960s t.v program which I would watch in re-runs every day during the summer at my granny's house to the Batman: The Animated Series which I would watch every day after school all through out my time at Harvest Hills Elementary and Kenneth Cooper Middle School, I have held Batman up high as my super hero of choice. I remember thinking that Michael Keaton was my one and only in the second grade. I remember thinking that Prince was a musical genius for his contributions to the 1989 film. I remember the hype around Catwoman and the Penguin and all the McDonald's marketing behind Batman Returns. Damn, this whole franchise kicks ass.

And five days ago, I had my socks knocked off by The Dark Knight. Holymolyeffinghell. That movie was awesome. Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker is still scaring me at night. I don't have anything else to say. Except for awesome. And that I'm typing all this while watching the 1989 Batman film. And I've been pacing the house all night wishing I had my shipment of books that are currently in Oklahoma as one box contains a collection of short stories all based on Batman. Batman.

Batman. BATMAN!

P.S. Let us all just shove that whole Alicia Silverstone as Barbara Gordon/Batgirl fiasco from the 1990s. That was just shameful.

Why I'm becoming a blow hard feminist...well...perhaps "blow hard" is a bad way to describe this transformation...

Regardless, I've discovered the following videos from comedian Sarah Haskins, and as such, I'm a bonified man hater! Sarah brings up some very interesting points on the topics of yogurt, suffrage, cooking and getting married. I don't want to sound brain washed, but I agree with EVERYTHING SHE IS SAYING!

Check out these videos - they are completely classic. I'm off to make some manchwiches...

Nostalgia sucks.

While walking home tonight, an ex-boyfriend from four years ago wandered into my train of thought for no apparent reason. I was listening to the Beastie Boys on my iPod and the next thing I knew...BAM! There he was right in my stream of consciousness.

I got to thinking about heartbreak and what exactly constitutes a broken heart. This boyfriend in particular broke my heart. Matter of factly, he is the only one that has the privilege of earning that title. And man...did he break it good. Nice and good. He might as well have ripped out the organ like Robert De Niro did in "Frankenstein" while attacking Helena Bonham Carter's character. That's what it felt like at least (disclaimer: This boyfriend did not look like a gimped up Robert De Niro).

Anyway, when I got home I looked up "heartbreak" on Wikipedia. There is actually a pretty extensive entry on the subject. They even have a list of symptoms (I had 18 out of the 20 listed after the aforementioned break up):

A perceived tightness of the chest, similar to an anxiety attack
Stomach ache and/or loss of appetite
Partial or complete insomnia
Anger
Shock
Nostalgia
Apathy (loss of interest)
Feelings of loneliness
Feelings of hopelessness and despair
Loss of self-respect and/or self-esteem
Medical or psychological illness (e.g. depression)
Suicidal thoughts (in extreme cases)
Nausea
Denial
Fatigue
The thousand-yard stare
Constant or Frequent crying
A feeling of complete emptiness
Feelings of being sad
Feeling of emptiness

However, my point is this: Wikipedia does an excellent job of summing up heartbreak by pin pointing how much it sucks. Kudos Wikipedia. You've done it again.

I have changed my name.

From now on, please address me as Optimus Prime Porch. Also, my pal Laurel is T-Rex. We have invented the most awesome robot-related theme dance/band, so as a result, we needed new names.

Thank you.

This might be something to be concerned about.

I just walked three blocks and noticed that for the duration of the walk from the video store to the loft I'm sleeping in, I repeated the word "weiner" over and over again in my head. For the entire walk. Just the word "weiner".

Anybody know a good therapist?

This is kinda sad, but...

It's amazing how my mood can improve after checking something as ridiculous as this blog's Technorati rating. So I saw on the subway today... is now ranked at 2,531,857. Previously, the blog was at 5,137,428 (you can read about that here).

Because a lot of folks out there don't understand/know about Technorati, let me explain. Basically, my ranking means that there are only 2,531, 857 bloggers out there that are considered better than me. And you know, I'm comfortable with that as I know that if it came down to a real life cage match, I would be ranked number one. I can bite and kick real hard and would "Technorati" the shit outta those other bloggers. I'm actually growling just thinking about.

Keep reading (and figure out how to use Technorati so you can become a fan of this page...or else!).

New catch phrase!

I'm currently staying with my best friend in a loft consisting of her and nine boys. It's pretty fun and kind of like I'm back in high school but my parents are super cool about me having friends of the opposite sex over late at night. However, I'm not living in some sort of weird orgy lifestyle - I sleep in the bed of my best friend since the second grade. It's about the unperviest thing in the world, so turn on your G-rated brains and stop being dirty.

Anyway, last night Emily and I stayed up until 5:30 in the morning talking about dudes and the same stuff we've been talking about for the past 20 years when we happened upon the best phrase ever. Complete disclaimer - Emily actually thought of this, but I'm hijacking her genius and calling it my own. I mean, I was clearly the muse in this situation. Without my physical presence she never would have had the creativity to think this up. And so, I shall introduce you to the best phrase ever invented in the history of the world and or space/time continuum:

"Your breath smells like farts."

ta-DA!

P.S. The picture included is of said best friend and me. We were most likely having another genius moment as this photo was taken.

Truf - Just because you scream into a microphone does not make you a comedian.

Speaking loudly into a mic doesn't make you any funnier either. I've learned this lesson again tonight after sitting through the SoundFix Comedy Night. I would like to pose a challenge to any comedian reading this. Try to do a routine that doesn't consist of the following words:

1. Vagina
2. Pussy
3. Cock
4. Asshole
5. Anus
6. Fuck

If you were really witty, you could keep all the profanity out. George Carlin is the only one who could use profanity in a clever way, so please, save us all a bit of time and don't try to rip off a legend. It's not that I'm offended by your language but more along the lines of being offended that I've wasted any time watching you perform such an uncreative act.

Truf - If I don't have a boyfriend in six years, I'm moving to South America.

Apparently, white guys find me repulsive. But...the South American Latinos are all about it! In the past three weeks, I have been hit on by a total of eleven delivery boys. The latest incident was last night while taking the elevator up to a friend's apartment, a delivery man said the following:

"I. Do. Not. Speak. Much English. But. I have to say. You are beautiful. You have boyfriend? Manfriend?"

He actually said "manfriend." Melted my heart I tell you. However, he lost points with the pony tail he was sporting. I just can't handle long hair on the dudes. Also, I have a bit of doubt in regards to his sincerity - I was sweating like a pig and there is a good chance I had a case of the B.O.