Thank Jebus for Jaywalking

Jay Leno's Jaywalking segment on last night's show was fan-freakin'-tastic. Mainly because it featured three of the castmates from Jersey Shore, a show that is rapidly becoming my most guilty of guilty pleasures.

I've got to believe that the bit was somewhat pre-scripted (how could they have come by a photo of Lionel Ritchie so quickly?!) but there's no doubt in my mind that some of those answers were genuine.

Genuine HILARITY, that is.

The Coolest Christmas Gift Evrahs

Yesterday was the annual Girlgang Gift Exchange party. Shaz, Kates, Jodles and I got together to grub on some tasty carbs, drink some delish Spanish coffees and open nifty gifties over at Shazzy's house.

My gifties were awesome - owl earrings from Jodles, hot choco mix and an adorbs cup/saucer set from Kates...but I've got to say, there's something so perfect...so amazingly ME...about the present I got from Shazzy.

Behold, the pink princess flask:



I'm thinking of taking it with me EVERYWHERE.

Remember Muggn?

I myself can't possibly forget Muggn. It's only one of the most amah-zing websites out there in the ether, people. And here's a few of my recent faves.

What's going on here? And why did the video for Thriller suddenly

pop into my head?

Yeah, I'm just guessin' here, but I think she supplemented her head with some synthetic hair-did action.

How much does this guy remind me of all the pix of Tiger Woods lately without his ball cap? SO MUCH.

Pretty sure this chick is coming off a helluva meth bender...and that she's likely also being featured on Jersey Douchebags.

When did Famke Janssen* get giant fake boobalas?
And develop her crank habit?

Who the hell put this Delta Gamma sorority headshot
in with the booking photos?

*Disclaimer: not Famke Janssen. But seriously...there's a resemblance, amiright?

Bucky, It's Cold Outside...

You may not be aware of this, but it has been cooooooooold in P-town lately. The last four days, we haven't managed to rise above freezing. Yesterday it was 15 degrees when I woke up. FIFTEEN DEGREES!!!

I texted a friend of mine in Boise about this crazy cold weather, and received the following response: "minus 1 at my house this morn."

So, clearly - no sympathy was to be found there.

Around the office, most of my coworkers have swapped Gore-Tex for wool peacoats, hats and gloves in an effort to beat the wicked cold.

Except Bucky. Bucky had a different plan entirely.

You see, this fella went ahead and pulled his old-skool puffy NFL Starter jacket out of the closet and wore it nice and proudly into the office.

Now, I didn't see him walk in this morning, but Renee had to go ahead and make sure that I knew about the badassedness of Bucky's outerwear selection post haste. She mentioned that she'd had a nice toasty walk into work because she'd taken a hint from him and dug out her big ol' puffy down jacket.

"Wait. Bucky's wearing a giant women's down jacket?" I asked.

"No," Renee said, "Better." And she called out to Bucky to model his fancypants jacket.

Oh. My. Gawd.

I had to admit, it was one of the most fantastic things I'd ever seen. An actual, authentic Starter jacket worn in the office? And not by one of my coworkers' misdirected children? Pure awesome.

Bucky busted out some poses for us in the hallway as I grabbed my phone to snap a few shots, asking "Should I throw up a set or something?"

"Yesssssss!" we yelled, "Westside!"

Boo to the yeah, y'all.

Han Solo!

Do you ever see shapes in the clouds overhead? Ever say "Oh yeah, I totally see that!" when someone claims that the image of the Virgin Mary appeared on a piece of toast or under a freeway overpass? I do...like, all the time.

A week or so ago, Renee and I were out and about when suddenly I spied this delivery truck and shouted "HAN SOLO!!!!" and I'm sure almost caused her to wreck the car. I don't think she had any idea what I was going on about, but you see it, right?




How 'bout now?


Oh C'MON NOW! You don't clearly see the hand- and faceprints on the door of the truck? Whaddaya mean? They're right there! I mean, I'll grant you it's not a faithful reproduction of the Han-in-carbonite dealie, but seriously...it's certainly reminiscent of it, right? RIGHT?

Gah.

Nevermind.

Oh, Jay...what have you gotten yourself into now?

The other day, Jay called to tell me he'd had hisself a lil' misstep at work. It seems he was walking backwards, painting a ceiling...and somehow managed to step into a FIVE GALLON BUCKET full of paint.

Now, I can't speak to the physics of such an error, but I will say this - we're not tall people, Jay and I. And as you can see in the photo, that bucket hits Jay right about the knee level. So how exactly he managed to lift his leg high enough to submerge his right leg in paint, I do not know.

But something I do know?

That I'm hella glad his coworker managed to snap this pic as Jay silently contemplated his brandspankin' new whitefoot.

Those are for one huuuuuuuuge betch.

Recently, Jay and I went on a scouting trip at the local Goodwill store. Jay had been invited to attend the viewing of one of them thar Oregon Duck foosball games, and he was on the hunt for some UO gear. Of course, bein' that we were in an Oregon-based Goodwill store, that wasn't tough to find. He managed to pick himself up a jersey and a golf jacket. Neither item fit very well - he was straight-up swimmin' in the XL jacket, and I'm pretty certain the jersey was child sized. The thing looked like it was cuttin' off his damn circulation, frankly. Fortunately, he managed to give both items away to more appropriately sized peeps at the party.

While Jay perused the clothing racks, I scoped out the sporting goods section and found a sweet military ammo storage box. And for only $2.99! Of course, it was covered in day-glo kiddie stickers, but those peeled off without any trouble at all. While we were there, Jay and I ran into Renee. She was posted up in the shoe section, lookin' all shifty and such.

It turns out that she was eavesdroppin' on this lil' fella through the racks. When she saw me, she called me over and made me listen in as well. Turns out this dude had just about the highest voice I've ever heard on a guy. He sounded just a little bit like Beaker from the Muppets, except all his meep-meep-meeps were in espanol. Oh, and while we were surreptitiously listening, I also spied a rail thin elderly woman in a fur jacket walking around with a short, curly wig perched upon her head. And it wouldn't have been so fascinating except for the fact that her long grey natural hair was combed down straight and hanging out from underneath the curly wig. Thank jebus for the Saturday entertainment provided by neighborhood thrift stores.

But alla dat was nothin' compared to the shoes Renee found in the ladies shoe section. 'Cuz these ladyshoes? They were bright purple, and the most ginormous heels I'd ever seen. As Renee demonstrates below, those fools were bigger than her damn head.

And clearly donated to the G-Dub by one fierce transvestite.

Doowutchyalike...but that outfit? Is terrible.

Attention, party people. I saw this outside my office last week:



Are you gettin' this, camera guy? Do you see what this chick is rockin'? By my count, there's three different patterns going on here - stripey socks, leopardy coat, and what appears to be a cheetah on her head.

I saw her and immediately the Digital Underground jumped into my brainpan. I mean, is it just me, or does she bear a striking resemblance to Shock G, aka "Humpty Hump"?

Let's be real, people. You know she does. You KNOW it.

Looks like somebunny found hisself an Ali G costume.

Oh, Jay. What's goin' on right here?

Halloween, betches.

At long last, here are the pix from my Halloween hijinkeries. Shelb had floated the idea of a multiple Princess Leia costume idea, and I was all kinds of down for it. And as it turned out, so was Shaz. We quickly decided over email that Shelb would be Slave Leia from Return of the Jedi, Jessi would be New Hope Leia from Star Wars, Shaz tackled Cloud City Leia from Empire Strikes Back, and I'd represent Ewok Village Leia from Jedi.

Shaz and I headed east towards Boise on the 30th, costumes and damn near a case of Trader Joe's wine in the trunk of the car. We were ready to party.

After a short prefunk at Shelb's along with my friends Jon and Amy, Lori and I ran up to the Scareport to collect our Han Solo for the night - my friend and high school classmate, Corey, who flew up from Arizona to join in on the fun.

Then it was off to the party for us! We called for a minivan taxi to take us from Shelb's place to the party, and fortunately, the cabbie wasn't fazed at all by his vanfull of three Leias, one Han Solo and a Mother Superior (Lori did not want to join in on our reindeer games). Mr. Cabtastic told us that he was a big Star Wars fan, plus he said, "You can't scare me - I was a sailor."

Jessi and her man were hosting the Halloween party, so she seemed super happy when her three co-Leias finally arrived.




Who says space pirates and regular pirates can't get along?




Did I ever mention my deep, abiding affection for Rock of Love? No? Well, it's a fact. And so is my love for this costume idea - Bret Michaels and two of his fabulous chickadees.




Recognize this guy? Les Grossman from Tropic Thunder? LOVED IT.




I was totally prepared to shake this dude down for his Yeti boots. I wanted 'em. And bad. Too bad I don't even remember seeing him during the party. It was only once I'd reviewed the photographic evidence the day after the party that I understood how close I'd been to this fantastic footwear.




Hands down, favorite costume of the night - Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. "Would you f*&k me? I'd f*&k me." Cue the creepy music and junk-tuckin', y'all.


Following the party, I remember us all getting back into the same sailor-driven minivan cab back to Shelb's, and I definitely remember Shelb busting out a Star Wars booklet to show Sailor Cabbie that Slave Leia had indeed worn boots in Return of the Jedi (critical information, of course). But none of us could figure out who'd called the cabbie to schedule our return trip. We finally determined that someone must have decided it was time for us to go home and called us a cab. And we felt bad about that fact, for like, a whole minute.

The next day, when I wasn't busy dying, I looked around for my camera and found the battery compartment empty. I couldn't figure out where I would have lost the damn thing - at the party? In the cab? Somewhere at Shelb's house? I asked Shaz whether she remembered me taking any photos in the cab on the way home, hoping that would help me narrow down the possibilities of where the damn thing could be located. She said she couldn't remember any photos taken during the return ride.

I went through the whole day wondering what IN HADES I'd done with that damned battery, until finally, right before I headed off to bed, I noticed a glowing green light next to the coffee maker when I turned off the kitchen light. I flipped the light back on and noticed a Canon battery charger. I thought to myself "But Shelby doesn't have a Canon camera..." and eventually it hit me - that was MY battery! Woot woot and such!

Corey and I quickly scrolled through the photos, trying desperately to muffle our hysterical laughter because Shelb had already fallen asleep. Turns out, I HAD taken a few photos on the way home that night - something on the order of 50 photos, in fact. I doubt I'd actually stopped pressing down on the shutter button at any point during our 15 minute ride home, given the number of photos I'd taken of our hilarious drunken shout-a-longs in the back of the cab. In addition, the photographic record appeared to support the fact that we'd had ourselves a bit of a dance party upon arriving home, which ended abruptly when Shelb attempted a Ren in Footloose-flavored slide-across-the-floor-on-her-knees move. We pretty much all ended up with unexplained bruises the next day.

All told, I ended up with about 340 photos from Halloween night. But all you're getting are these six. 'Cuz shoooooot...I might wanna be president someday, y'alls. I gotsta keep my options open.