Dane and I are waging an epic battle the likes of which the internet has never seen and soon, soon my friends, the victor will emerge - bloody and triumphant - and the thermostat in this apartment will either go very, very up or very, very down.

And the loser will be super uncomfortable.

What the hell is it with dudes and their internal combustion system being so effing effed up? I am cold all the time and THAT IS WHY GOD MADE HEAT.

Anyway, right now it is about 85 degrees outside and so I have the balcony door open but in about 2 hours I’ll need to shut it so I can cool the place to negative 900 for when Dane gets home. And he will still complain about how hot it is in here.

And right now, I guarantee you he is sitting at his desk at Nemo, sweating and cursing my name while he reads this because I have the a/c turned off even though he expressly forbid that and I am flipping him off (lovingly) and dancing around the apartment because for the first time in a thousandy months I am not wearing a sweater and slipper socks.

But, because I love you Dane, here is my favorite Ben Kweller song which (and you’ll all please take note of how I manage to stick to the karaoke theme here) is the only other song I wish to GOD they would put in the books. Then I could rule like Dane.

Also, I think it’s adorable that these girls put this video together. What are they, like 9 years old?

Ben Kweller: Ruling. Like Dane. Pretty much.

Happy Karaoke Week Everyone.

Last night was so weird that by the time we made it out of the movie screening around 8:45 and over to BJ’s Bar and Kill Grill (or whatever), I was what a medical professional might have described as hysterical. The movie was honestly so bad, it was incomprehensible, and the guy running the screening was a little miffed at me because we showed up at like 2 minutes to 7 which is rude, I guess. But I’m SORRY. It’s not like I was late and MY GOD THAT MAN SHOULD HAVE BEEN APOLOGIZING TO ME. In fact, he should have rubbed my feet and brought me figs and iced tea while he was apologizing because the movie was so god awful. It was offensively horrible. I think that movie gave me PTSD. For real.

Anyway, I was in a real state, as my grandmother would have said, when Justin and Megan picked us up outside the theater and by the time we pulled up to the bar/shack/future place where our dead bodies would be found, seeing this on the bumper of someone’s SUV DID NOT HELP.

So the place was a little smaller than our bedroom and this was the KJ. On the serious. He actually turned out to be really, really nice.

Clackamas KJs: A breed apart

And here is me singing Cuts Like a Knife. I love Bryan Adams.

I pretty much cleared the room. All three feet of it.

Kiala: It feels so right

Makers and Diet Coke: A Portrait

And here is where I prove my love to you, my Frookies (thanks Crissy!), by posting this picture of myself where I look like a man in drag because the woman (?) behind me is so FUCKING AWESOME with that lighter. Right?

Two inches closer and it all could have gone horribly, horribly wrong.

And then Dane sang some Tenacious D (Tribute). It pretty much ruled.

Dane: Ruling. Pretty Much.

Megan agreed with the ruling. And Justin was distraught at the thought of following him. So he didn’t. Everyone understood.

Emotions. So many of them all at once.

And here you will see two ladies dancing. You’ll note how different this looks in comparison to when orange girls in tight jeans dance together.

Ladies love to dance. Not just the orange ones.

I don’t know what else to say about last night, other than that BJ’s was either the best or the most worstest ( I KNOW THAT IS WRONG) place I’ve ever been.

And now I need to nurse my mild hangover with eight diet cokes and some sushi.

Good Day!

Yesterday, while I was busy not blogging, it became readily apparent to me that the Cookie has never had a theme week and that if we didn’t have one soon, we would become obsolete. And, after looking up the word “obsolete” in the dictionary and finding out it did not mean “even more elite”, I thought to myself “let’s fix that”. So ta da! Theme.

I picked karaoke because it’s something I know a lot of gossip about - provided I can sift through the drunken memories and discern what is real and what is Jaeger shots. Just like I did for my mom growing up. Ha! no. My mom never drank. I just want someone to blame. I guess I’ll blame society. YEAH. Fuck you society and your ills and your Olive Gardens! I drink at you!

Anywhatever, tonight I have a screening to go to (because Ferik Penrickson, Editor at Large, is a slave driver and makes me see movies. For money. Jerk.) and then we are going to some karaoke place with Justin and Megan and some of Megan’s former co-workers. The place is in, oh GOD it BURNS, Clackamas. But honestly? I’m kind of looking forward to it in the same way it feels good to push your tongue into a sore tooth. I’m going to steel myself for a lot of white baseball caps, shirts with swirly designs on the shoulders, hair gel, and girls who say stuff like, “I guess we’re doing the karaoke thing tonight! I’d better get my drink on!” Also, these girls will be orange. And MARK MY WORDS INTERNET, they will - every last one of them and probably all together in a big orange group - sing that fucking Carrie Underwood song about keying that guy’s truck because he was a cheater. GOD. MAKE IT STOP.

So, to kick off Karaoke Week™, and drunken performances, I give you this video which has the dubious honor of being the only reason (other than the Rock who CARRIES that movie) to see Southland Tales. I normally don’t give a fig about Justin Timberlake (sorry Melissa!) OR The Killers but here, here people at 1 minute and 44 seconds, is when and where he brings sexy back.

Timberlake: Better drunk, bloody, and sad

I’ve decided there will be no more karaoke for me until this song is an option in the karaoke books.

Sorry. You will just have to laugh at someone else making an ass of themselves until then.

Here is a review I wrote about an awesome movie called Son of Rambow.

You should all go to see it. And while you’re at the theater you should get a giant pretzel and a Diet Coke and pretend you are me. Wouldn’t that be creepy? Wouldn’t you like that?

Also, here.

Isn’t impressed with my “writing”.

People. Stop touching my dog.

I REALIZE she looks like this

But in reality she is more like this

Also? Tell your children to stop touching my dog.

So.

In summary:

STOP TOUCHING MY DOG.

Okay, so it was totally our fault for not knocking on the bedroom door before we went in but STILL.

THIS IS DISTURBING, RIGHT?

Arthur: Needs love any way he can get it.

Gay.

Doesn’t have the decency to be ashamed.

Needless to say, he is grounded until college or until he becomes a heterosexual.

Whichever comes first.

Here is the quesadilla I made for Dane yesterday

Cheesy

And here is the one I made for me

Superior

Up close

Even more superior

And to illustrate my point further, here is what I find on a regular basis after doing the laundry

Squishy

“Hi, my name is Dane and I am seven years old”

We are going to this tonight. I have to admit that my stuffed animals totally had their way with each other when I was little. I blame it on cable television and my mom’s subscription to Penthouse Forum (sorry Mom!)

I am going to try not to accidentally say anything offensive to the artist and also not to drink too much wine.

Oh, and I’m going to wear high heels, I think.

Why not? It’s Friday, for fuck’s sake.

Nemo Design presents Furry Kama Sutra, a photography/Video exhibition by New York based photographer Michael Cogliantry, opening on May 02, 2008. The show will run through Tuesday, June 01, 2008 at Nemo Design: 1875 SE Belmont Street in Portland, OR. Furry Kama Sutra is the title for a new project by New York based photographer / director Michael Cogliantry. For this series, Cogliantry captures the little seen world of Furry in a series of photographs and videos that are part position manual, part sexual sub-culture exploration. Dressed as an animal of their choice, Furries are considered the ultimate explorers of anonymous sex. In the fur suit, one can leave the confines of the computer room and venture out into other’s bedrooms, remaining totally anonymous. Groups are based largely online, but hold conventions all over the world, usually barring the media. The collection of seven 40 x 50” color photographs poses and three video episodes were shot at various “by-the-hour” motels around Las Vegas. Nemo Design (Nemodesign.com) is a Portland-based integrated branding, marketing and design shop. Nemo Design’s capabilities include brand strategy, design, motion graphics, interactive development, film, video, print and photography production. Nemo Design is located at 1875 SE Belmont Street in Portland, OR.

From The Moose

Well, it’s official. I have completely lost the ability to drink alcohol.

A moment of silence would not be uncalled for right now.

Last night, we all went out to dinner and I had three margaritas. THREE. Not seven or ten or thirty. THREE. And this morning I woke up with what I think was encephalitis. It is the only medically sound reason I can think of which would explain the pain coming from inside and around my head. And we were out of Advil. EMERGENCY.

And if I didn’t have plans with my Mom this afternoon (she doesn’t know this yet but I think those plans might include her bringing me a latte and placing a cool wet towel on my forehead while I weep softly to myself on the couch) and a movie review to write I totally would have taken the vicodin we have in the cupboard. Except I didn’t actually think of that until right this moment. WHY DIDN’T I TAKE THE VICODIN?

I am dumb. With an emphasis on the stupid.

I think my ever increasing limited capacity for alcohol has everything to do with my shorts still being a little tight (muffin top noooo!) and cutting out my regular evening three glasses of wine is an easy way to right this situation. It just kind of pisses me off that all the years I put into learning how to hold my liquor are now for naught. Or moot. Or whatever the smart words are.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got today in terms of blogsiness, HOWEVER, I do have something special for all my Fotsies out there (Face of the cookies=Fotsies…I’m trying it out). You have all been busy caring about important things and not giving a crap about my stupid famous bullshit so patient and nice waiting to hear about the Famous Person article and today is the day you find out who it is!

After the jump. Hee. [Read more →]