Jennifer Garner popped out baby numero dos yesterday– a baby girl. Little Violet is a big sister! Awwwww. I wish that I could tell you the name of the no doubt bound to be gorgeous spawn of Jen and Ben (RAWR!), but alas, they either don’t have a name or it has not been revealed. Usually celebrity baby names are great fuel for blogging, but I think these two like to go traditional. What would you name their child?
UPDATED: The baby’s name is Seraphina Rose Elizabeth Affleck. Maybe not as traditional as I expected! I like it!
Picture your most humiliating nightmare. Perhaps you are naked in front of a crowd. Mine might involve looking like I was 13 again. You’re thinking about it now. Mortifying, is it not? Well some poor dude in Vail lived a very imaginative nightmare. Like the only funny scene from an unbearably unfunny Jim Carrey movie, he found himself dangling upside down from a ski lift san pants with his dangly parts totally exposed in the frigid cold. Errr… here are the pictures. You can’t make this shit up.
HAHAHAHA
And finally, he is showed some mercy.
Stifle your laughter, fools! The man suffered from exposure! Okay, you can giggle, because it is comedy of the absurd.
According to the press release, he was suspended for about seven minutes. NOT seven minutes in heaven, I’m sure. Pantsless man, I know nothing we, your fellow Americans, can ever do will erase the pain of this ordeal, but I propose that any time you go to a bar, your drinks are free. But you know who I feel worst for? His kid. Sitting right next to him. Hahaha. oh dear. Therapy much?
Every time I see a Louis Vuitton bag I just assume that it’s fake and you bought it on the street for 40 bucks. I can’t tell if you paid the full price for it, and I don’t care. Americans LOVE buying the fake stuff. I bought a fake Longchamp bag in Turkey for 12 bucks. (Because it was fake, I pronounced it Long Champ…like it SHOULD be pronounced. Silly French.) Anyway, whenever people would compliment my bag, I’d automatically tell them it was a fake. I mean, why should I pretend like it was real? That is my pet peeve about counterfeit items–when people act like they’re real.
My pet peeve is one of the reasons I have great admiration for a new shopping center in China. This shopping center is all about counterfeit items and is totally unapologetic. They proudly and purposefully spell things differently so as to avoid legal trouble, and it is HILARIOUS. God love ’em. For example, you can eat a pizza at a Pizza Huh. Huh? I mean, what? No, not a Pizza Hut, a Pizza Huh. Regardless, I’m sure you still have the shits “stomach issues” for hours post-gorge. After your delicious fake pizza, you can enjoy a fake coffee at Bucksstar and buy a “Naik” sweatshirt. Just do it! No but seriously, would you do it? For pictures and a legitimate news story, click here.
Are the Chinese on to something? Is the answer to consumerism, or is it perpetuating it? Whoa deep thoughts. I need something mindless…maybe I’ll catch up on some GG. You know you love me.
Yes, it is Christmas eve and I am blogging. What of it? But I have to share this with the world. In case you didn’t know, the best movie EVER is on the teevee for a solid 24 hours straight. Twenty-four hours of “A Christmas Story”? YES PUHLEASE! I’ll watch it inbetween meals. So turn on TBS. This movie makes me laugh so hard I cry. The scene with the leg lamp? PRICELESS!
Fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra!
Also, in case you wanted to keep tabs on the big guy in red, the North American Aerospace Defense Command, or NORAD, has a Santa tracker going. As of right now, he’s in between the South Pole and South America. He best be getting to the US of A tonight! Specifically, my house.
We all have hobbies. I like to think of mine as travel (because that sounds cool), but it’s probably reading US Weekly and the Huffington Post nonstop. For Jim Bob Duggar and his wife, Michelle, I would venture to say that their hobby is having babies. The Duggars just welcomed their 18th child into their crazy world. Little Jordyn-Grace Makiya was born on December 19. Now I love babies. I coo at every one I see. I love the little clothes, the little shoes, etc. Perhaps I’ll have one or two in my lifetime. But my god, the thought of 18 babies WITH NO INTENTION OF STOPPING makes me a little queasy. Yes, Jim Bob told the press “We both would love to have more”. Sure, buddy. Michelle Duggar has been having children for over 20 years. And as if it couldn’t get any more bizarre, here are their names and ages.
Joshua, 20
Jana, 18
John-David, 18
Jill, 17
Jessa, 16
Jinger, 14
Joseph, 13
Josiah, 12
Joy-Anna, 11
Jeremiah, 9
Jedidiah, 9
Jason, 8
James, 7
Justin, 6
Jackson, 4
Johannah, 3
Jennifer, 1
Jordyn-Grace, 0
ALL J NAMES? WHY WHY WHY? (Ginger with a J? Seriously?) You could probably guess this by the freakshow nature and all the babies, but the Duggars have their own show on TLC. It’s called ‘Seventeen and Counting’. That’s original. But will they have to change the name now? This family seems a little strange. I’ll take ‘Jon & Kate Plus 8’ anyday. They are awesome.
Upon stalking the internet in search of mindlessness to keep you busy at work (my job is hard, okay?!), I came across a story on TheDailyBeast about the return of chest hair. I quickly skimmed the story, because I couldn’t justify spending my endless hours of free time actually reading about chest hair. Okay, so maybe I did read most of it. And let’s face it, I’ve written about hairy men before. This stand out quote is stellar :
In these troubled times of war and craptastic financial news, are we yearning once again for leading manly men with comfortingly warm pelts in which to hide our anxious faces?
Haha. Two things. First, I cannot accept that craptastic is a word. Second, does the writer have a legitimate point, as tongue in cheek as it is?
I actually just had a discussion about chest hair with our Argentina correspondent a few days ago over an ice cream. Her feeling was that it’s unnecessary and gross. I feel that if you have too much of it, you are obligated to manscape. I also think it’s more of a personal preference thing than an indirect result of the failed Bush Administration and its policies of war and deregulation. But hell, I blame Bush for nearly everything. Why not this too? Unless, of course, you think it’s a good thing.
But back to the story. Along with the commentary, the writer provided a visual aid. Click HERE for the slide show of chest hair. And OMFG, Chuck Bass has chest hair?! RAWR.
It’s me, Kathleen, your long lost backpacking blogger. I’m back from South America and I look tan! Wooohooo! I went to five countries in 32 days, had “stomach issues” and saw flamingos. Some other stuff too, I guess. Now this is going to sound lame, but one of the things I missed most while away was writing for this blog. Obviously though, M and M held down the fort quite well. In fact, I’m happy to still have a “job” with this blog. And a job it will be, because I still do not have a real one. Haha.
It’s good to be back!
Oh, and just because it’s Wednesday, here is a special edition South American adventure Machu Picchu hump day cry face. (Yes, it was taken with a timer. What of it?):
I first heard The National in The Cellar, my undergrad university’s on-campus bar. I was having a beer there with my friend Heaps, and this song came on. She has some fancy phone where you can play music to the phone, and it can tell you what the song is. (And this was BEFORE the iPhone could do that, I’ll have you know.) The song was “Apartment Story,” and I clearly went home and listened to it on repeat. Be sure to note John Lennon on the drums:
I’ve been listening to some more of The National’s stuff, and I really like all of it. I think it’s because I adore Matt Berninger’s voice. It’s so deliciously deep. Makes me feel like he has a beard, although I’ll settle for the scruff he’s rocking in the video. I’m guessing he could sing some rando song from High School Musical and I’d still be all “ooh, Matt, so scruffy and baritone.”
Here’s the whole band, just having a cocktail or two at their on-campus bar:
Are you SEEING all that beard-age?
I love music in a way that makes me wish I could express myself through it in some legitimate way. I tried to learn to play the guitar once, but got about as far as “Redemption Song” and then gave up. Maybe I need to try again, or maybe I need to settle for what I have. Which is a great backup singer voice, as long as the music is so loud that you can’t hear me.
Today is one of those days where it’s just too cold to be out in public. I was not dressed for the weather and nearly froze to death when I stepped outside to walk home, and that made the decision for me that I will not be going out tonight. I think.
See, the problem is that I don’t really have anything to do if I stay home. My roommate isn’t here and I’m not all that into the book I’m reading and I’m one of those people who gets bored really, really quickly. And when I’m left alone and bored for too many hours, I start to get all emo and watch weird depressing music videos on iTunes and email my best friend asking her if she’ll marry me if I’m still alone at 30. Which is all well and good, except too much emo music makes me go a little nuts and I don’t particularly want to marry a girl.
Spending time in the real world tends to cure my emo-ness, and thank goodness I was forced out into that real world to work today. (I know! I worked! Like a real grownup!) For a large chunk of the day, I was uploading things to my program’s website, and I got this weird sense of power. Like, I could RUIN LIVES by posting embarrassing things. And then I remembered that I already have my own website, and that I tend to prefer embarrassing myself.
Besides getting out of your own head or maybe reading about people who have actual problems, this video is a pretty good cure for being a hot emo mess:
I’m sorry, I know. But that video is hilarious. I’m a little bit in love with Andy Samberg:
He wears nerdy glasses, too!
Hmm. In my situation, Andy Samberg would probably go out.
six words to change the world. 