Monday, November 30, 2009

the Monday Muse of 2009!


Round II has officially ended and let me just say that it was a neck & neck race between the ShamWow Pepaw & the Kittenz Commentator. Sorry to the other two contestantz (they never stood a chance)! Next time, be funnier! And even though I personally soiled mahself on numerous occasionz tanx to Mr. Shamwow & his nutz (he's right, I do love them!), kittenz always prove to be tough competition! That rando little grrrl and her even more rando commentary will be heading to Hawaii! to the next round in three weekz!

But let's get down to business. This week's set are, IMO, the best batch of Monday Muses yet! Good luck picking your favo! Remember, the winner of dis whole shebang will become your new Josh Is Trashy savior. Pick wisely! Here are dis week's hoz...



Virgania Horsen - Why deal wiff the inconveniences of the post office & the airport?! This sexxxy trick will help you avoid those long lines and those threats of terrorism. And don't worry, she's not one of those people that doesn't know how to be quiet!

Pickle Surprise - Culinary mastermind! He will haunt enrich all of your wildest nightmarez sueños! Repeat his mantra: "Haaaaaaaaaam..."

Chicken TV Dinner Factory - Where the best food in the world is made! Make sure you force your stupid teacher to take your class on a field trip here! Chix dinnaz make you stronger so you can yell louder!

Steven the Beautiful - The most gorgeous cholita in the entire mundo. Look @ those browz! Chut uh! Stop grillin' him! You need to excuse his beauty!

GellieMan - For def def defferz the lost Backstreet Boy. Those movez! Dat voice! The Minnie Mouse bedspread! Prepare to have dis Romeo break ur corazon.

This week is gonna be mad dificil, so get ur tinker capz on and concentrate. Pretend you're takin' da S.A.T.s again! Focus, focus, focus. This will be graded.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

I used to work at the record store.

[HAVE YOU VOTED FOR THIS WEEK'S MONDAY MUSE OF 2009 POLL?!]

Nearly two weekz ago mah BFF Enrico came over to mah house to gozzip about rando crap and to watch the clips from Katy Perry's MTV Unplugged performance online. Of course it was vundervill, what wiff her singing "Thinking Of You" [aka the song I listened to on repeat when mah ex ripped mi corazon out last January] and her jazzy rendition of "I Kissed a Girl." But the performance that really filled mah earholes with burning desire was a cover she did of a Fountains of Wayne song. Yeah, those are the choloz that had that semi-catchy yet totally annoying "Stacy's Mom" bullshit that was out a few yearz back.

Anywhooo, the song is called "Hackensack" and I find it to be unbelievably understated & oddly charming. So much so that I felt a need to post the track [feat. crude animated video] below. Katy's version is below as well!

[Note: They sound great when synched up together! Start the F.O.W. video when Katy's video is at :08 seconds.]





Thursday, November 26, 2009

Happy Tanxgiverz Day!


Hey bloggy peepz! Just wanted to wish all you hoz a derriciouzly festive holiday! Make sure you eat to the point of vomming (followed by vomming, you gotza keep the LBz down!) and give tanx to all da tingz that are important to you [I.E. Josh Is Trashy].

If you're like me, you're watchin' some boring-azz high school orchestras toot about while no-name pop wannabeez lipsynch and awkwardly dance on hideous floats during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade . I'm holding a mug o' coffee in one hand with a hard cider in the other, I'm a desperate lush rockstar! Ah shit! They just announced Katharine McPhee comin' up after the commercial break! I gotta go & get mah booin' & growlin' voice ready! Have a great holiday folkz! LOVEZ YOU ALL TO ITTY BITTY REESES PIECES!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Q+A!

I can't speak for all of mah derrrriciouz bloggy readerz, but I know that I spend a good amount of mah waking horaz daydreamin' about different fanciez of fame & stardom. Aside from imagining my fart-azz on the American Idol stage wooing the population wiff mah vocalz slaughtering the nation's collective eardrum, I often like to put myself into the storyline of some of my favorite moviez! Hairspray and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre have been big wastes of time for me (polar oppositez, I know) but I'd like to make it clear that I don't mean I've pretended to be acting in said filmz. I mean I've actually imagined my goofy rump shimmying & shaking on TV and being hunted by a psycho killer in real life. But as I reflect on the countless ficticious plotlinez that I have written myself into, I got to wondering...


If you could be in one movie, what would it be?

Horror filmz & musicals are two of my favo tingz in the entire world. Being scurred poopless and then bouncing along wiff a flamboyantly fabo soundtrack will constantly keep a smile on my face. So what would be the best kinda film to let me reach to durante mis sueños de diaz??? A combo of both of course! So therefore, if I had to be in any film, it would have to be...

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Ok...so it isn't necessarily scary viewing it now as a 23 year-old, but back when I was 7, that shit did get mah little heart a-racing @ some partz. But then again, once all those demonz & ghoulz, witchez & werewolvez, corpses & monstaz got all queerly fantastico Broadway on my azz, I forgot my fears and fell in lurrrve!

I used to alwayz try and scare my family when I was younger. I'd set up "haunted housez" in my room and then drag my unenthusiastic padres in there with me to show them what I'd done. They knew the schtick and would humor me by running out screaming upon seeing my stuffed animalz posed like ghosts under my bedsheets. Well, anyone who has seen this flick will totally understand why it fit into my childhood's extracurricular activities.

But it wasn't just all the crazy trix & treatz that got me obsessed with this film. I imagined myself singing all of the songz and receiving a standing ovation. My favo tune to burp along too was "Sally's Song." Sally was totally the introspectively depressed female singer/songwriter of the Nightmare crew and her lamenting ode to her secret love, the studly Jack Skellington (swoon!), got mah over-emotional eyez heaving Niagara tearz all over the place.

I'd imagine myself befriending Jack and becoming his supadupa BFF. In my make-believe world, I would provide council for Jack and I'd force his bony bunz to get into that Sally ho's bed sooner so I could steal the melodramatic lovesick spotlight! My fantasy = My rulez! After he & Sally were happily married, I would then be free to mope and sorrowfully warble mah Hotel Paper-esque melodiez. I had a huge crush on the little devil man Lock and I would follow him around Halloweentown, watching as he went on frightfully romantic datez with his witch GF Shock. So much heartbreak! I would cry to myself in my little mausoleum bedroom, serenading the ratz and batz with my endless miseries. ::sighz:: Always the bridesmaid...never the bride! ::weep, weep::

But enough about my sickeningly in-depth childhood fakeriez! If you could live inside any movie, what would you pick?!

Monday, November 23, 2009

the Monday Muse of 2009!



I am overwhelmed wiff da number of peepz that voted for last week's Monday Muse showdown. 41 votez were cast. It was a [pseudo] close race but the winner waaaaaas.......DEVEN GREEN!!! Deven will come back in four weeks to compete in the semi-finals. But fuck dat shiz for now and let's get down to business! We have another four muses dis week for you to review and choose. Use your slickest discretion and pick which you feel deserves to be immortalize on Josh Is Trashy! Here are this week's contestants...


Amy's Diary - Recollectionz of a time gone by. Memoriez! Don't get too jellerz that you're not doing tumbling in gym or that Jason Fargo isn't in lurrrve wiff you.

the ShamWow Pepaw - He'll sell you some crap & then beat your whore azz. You're gonna love his nutz!

[Former] Miss Teen South Carolina - Possibly the smartest person in the entire world. A proponent of fruit & vegetable treez, [anti] Made in China and making dis a "California Thing."

the Kittenz Commentator - A narrating prodigy. She knowz deez cats want pie. She knowz deez cats want beef jerky.


You know the routine! Vote for your favo! Don't forget how important dis is! My blog is the center of your universe and My Monday Muses are @ the core of it! The winner shall be your GAWD! Choose wiserly!

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Three Outta Three Ain't Bad!

So I spent Tuesday y Wednesday en Nueva Nueva workin' at the office. After gruelin' [read as: surprisingly calm] dayz, I met up wiff Mr. Dahvid to engage in some funtime outingz. Wednesday night, he treated me to a fabo show on Broadway (which was dark that night). He took me to see a revival of dis old skool [circa the Dinosaur Era aka 1947] musical called Finian's Rainbow.

At first I was all lyke, "Ug...is it all about gay schtuff?!" to which I yawned...but it had nuffin' to do wiff dat! I'm not gonna spoil it's goodiez para tu, but in a brief synopsis, its about leprechauns, magic, love & friendshitz! It touchez on serial topix like racial injustice and monetary standing wiffout getting all "nightly newz" and being borrring & uneffective! The songz were fun, there was sexxxy dancing and dee actorz were incredz (especially the sassy scene-stealer Terri White who once was a homeless lady living in Washington Square Park!). Finian's Rainbow is only the fifth Broadway show I've ever seen after Les Misérables (yay!), Aida (zzz!), Phantom of the Opera (that's the chandelier scene?!) & Rent (funky & played-out). It was for def def defferz vundervill and I demand you see it pronto.

-----------------

Then I went to work Thurzday and did important grown-up tingz. After work, I was supposed to hang out wiff mi amigo de Nueva Nueva, Mariel, but she had to cancel. But since I packed an overnight bag for TWO nightz, I had to make up for the fact that I was lugging around half mah wardrobe through the streets on New York. So I called up [read as: texted] Dahvid and forced him to want to go to the movies wiff me. But since he is sickeningly motivated to do a million thingz every day, he had to each a yoga class when he got outta werk.

By the time he'd get outta teaching people how not to be lazzzy lardbuttz, we'd be able to catch a 9 o'clock movie. Yay! But being that I got out of work @ 5, I had to find a way to eat up four hours. Easy-peasy! I farted my azz on ova to a Best Buy and kibitzed about the store for an hour. I ended up buying American Idol season 8 winner Kris Allen's debut disco compacto!


I voted for dis dude when he was on the show and I am 100% certain that it's due to Enrico & I's votes that he won during the finale against that hideous, pretentious, dirt-clod Lady GaGa Adam Lamebert. Yeah, yeah, yeah...All deez Adam Lamebert fanz [read as: people who are easily amused wiff little musical taste] are gloating about how his album is gonna sell better than Kris', and they are probz right! Still doesn't negate the fact that he's a glammerpussing, hott-bottom, head-titling cocoa-fist [credit: Deven Green]. Anyone that knowz me is aware that I am an Idol addict (I need mah fix!) and that I know more about it than anyone ever, so therefore mah opinion is fact and Adam Glambert is indeed a crapsicle.

And since I have a sexxxytime crush on Kris & his cute-as-a-cursed-button voice, I just had to get his CD. And it's pretty good! It actually sounds like a real album as opposed to past Idol winners' cornballer debutz [see: Kelly Clarkson's Thankful that is the definition of cheez-festival, though I do still lurrrve it!]. The songz actually fall into that pseudo songwriter rock genre that Maroon 5 & Jason Mraz seem to dance around in. First single "Live Like We're Dying" is catchy & lovely as is "Written All Over My Face" & "Alright With Me" (which is fucking adorable). The disc also contains a full-length of Kris' fantastico cover of Kanye Butthole's "Heartless" that he performed back on Idol.

-----------------

After I spent 30 minz swooning over the stock footage of Kris sitting at a piano & holding a guitar in the CD booklet, I still had 3 horaz to kill till Dahvid stopped being dedicated to his jerb. So I walked a long-azz expanse of 23rd street until finally going to the theater. I sat in the lobby and watched the trailer of that movie The Blind Side. It's sure to be awful, no I was right the first time, awful, and it stars Sandra Bullock [feat. blond dye-jerb] as some sassy mom wiff a heart of gold that helpzzzzz somzzzzzkidzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I watched it approx 30 timez and memorized the whole fuzzing thing: When I look around, all I see are people shooting da bull & drinkin' coffee!" The only ting redeeming about this goofyass crap are the cameos by Jack's Mannequin & Rob Thomas songz during the preview.

Well, Dahvid finally got to da theater right @ nine and we were able to grab our seatz and partake in one of the best filmz I've seen in yearz. Yes, I finally saw Precious!

The movie was everyting I expected it to be and more. Yes, Mo'Nique should win an Oscar and Gabourey "How the hell do you pronounce mah name?" Sidibe deservez at least a nomination. I've read all the reviewz & talked at great length wiff Enricoskatez about it, so I anticipated some tearz. I didn't however expect to leave the theater being an inconsolable mess. It didn't just break mah heart, it ripped me limb from limb like that douche from Shaun of the Dead. It was expertly directed and was both incredibly devastating & undeniably uplifting. If you have any common sense [feat. a beating heart] you'll be getting your cholo bunz into the nearest theater and lurrrve it.

Yay for three awesome tingz! They made this week actually not suck too much!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Total Request Josh

[HAVE YOU VOTED FOR THIS WEEK'S MONDAY MUSE OF 2009 POLL?!]

As we all know, I like to pretend that I have tiny bitz of musical talent floating around aimlessly in mah body. As you also may know, I like to post videoz of me displaying these [fictional] skillz while operating a motor vehicle. If the NJ DMV ever see mah videoz, I bet they'd rip that license outta my wallet faster than my student loanz do to mah money!

Wellz...most timez when I post some singysong vidz, I get peepz commenting on songz that they'd like me to sing en la futuro. So I thought, "Why not let the hoz that like watching me sing growl like demonz from hell pick what I sing next?!" So comment below wiff what trax in the following genrez you'd like me to murder and it's a possibility that I might make all your wildest dreamz come truuuuuue!

Twangtastic country song...
Badunk-adunk hip-hip song...
Sunshiny pop song...
Crusty old person song...
Sparkly Broadway song...
Scary hardxxxcore rock song...

I'm your music slut! What do you want me to do?! ::wink, wink, smile, vom::

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

So folkz, are you ready to order?

I work in a restaurant. You all should be aware of that, what wiff my occasional constant complaining about not being able to land a [non]food service jerb. The establishment I work at is fantastic and I have been there for seven and a half yearz now. Like a second family, my co-workers have seen my dopey azz grow up and have been a constant grounding force for my otherwise manic life. I say all of this because I don't want this following post to at all hint that I am anyting but appreciative for my jerb and how lucky I am to not want to kill the people I work wiff.

No, this post is more focused on a specific aspect of my experiences in serving tables. Each Sunday, I usually work a double shift. Brunch + Dinner shiftz = Me, a disgruntled, exhausted grumpster who wants nuffin' more than to crawl into my bed like a spider into a sleeping infant's mouf. Sunday brunch in partix is mad chaotic what wiff all the God-lovin' peepz who get outta services circa noon and wander aimlessly around town until they find their way into my restaurant.

Without fail, the Sunday morning shift is always brimming with throngs of especially demanding, hungry cholitoz who expect their food to take no longer than 5 minutez to cook who also become inexplicably agitated at the fact that I just might have other patrons to attend to occasionally. And in this midst of running and jabbering and OJing and breading, there are always the certain few customers that are oblivious to my pain (feat. suffering) and desire to make mah life a sad, sad hellhole each and every Sunday.

These are the top five most aggravating tingz I got asked last Sunday [aka the top five tingz that make me want to hurl mahself Sylvia Plath-style into the large bakery ovens]:


"Nuttin' ma'am. Absolutely everyting in this dump is absolutely dizzgusterz. Yes, I AM lying to you, but I am merely trying to expose the pointlessness of this question. The customer is alwayz right, so therefore every-fuzzing-thing you pester me about will be the greatest culinary creation ever to grace my tongue."


"Of course! I'd lurrrve for you to keep me preoccupied @ your table with your shopping list of allergiez/taste specificationz/dietary restrictionz while all mah other customerz grow more and more hateful of me [not you] by the minute! And please make your demands as confusing as possible so the chefz in the back hate me and so you can pick apart everyting that's wrong wiff your fancy-pancy order when I finally bring it out."


"Yes sir. It is quite hectic. Tanx for noticing, wasting my time taking the time to point out this obvious fact and doing nuffin' about it [aka be an easy-going patron]. I look forward to running lapz around your table only to have you leave me a 15% tip."


"No! A cappuccino is not an acceptable excuse for a dessert! Plus the machine never workz properly, it takez three yearz to get the foam to froth, the steam burnz the skin off of mis manos and then you're goin' to have the audacity to expect FREE refillz of coffee afterwardz. I don't care if you're not hungerz anymore, spend $9 and get the key lime cheesecake instead! No work for me + higher bill!"


::head explodez in fiery volcanic eruption::



Monday, November 16, 2009

the Monday Muse of 2009!


Any bloggy friend of mine, nuevo o viejo, should be familz with mah weekly Monday Muse features. Wellz, since I have yet to miss a week since I first started it last summer, I thought that it would be fun to take a look back @ all the gorge y fab peepz that have filled my our borrring azz Mondayz wiff so much wonder and excitement. And then I though, "Well fuck, why not make a contest outta dis shit?" So here we have it, My Monday Muse - the American Idol Remix! I've divided up my 23 musez into five sets of finalists. For the remaining Mondays in 2009, I will post these groups and allow all of yourvundervill readerz [read as: how many of you are there? 10? 15?] to pick your favo each week. It's almost like you folkz have a reason to exist! [I kid, I kid...kinda...]

Then after a winner is chosen from those sets, it will go to the semi-finals...then the final two. The winner will get a special spot on the much coveted [read as: probably ignored] info bar on the right of Josh Is Trashy. Make sure you pick wisely...cuz you will have to stare @ the winna'z puss for all of 2010!

Now onto this week's contestants...


Screaming Parking Lot Behemoth - Majestically irate beauty defending her home turf [aka rando abandoned lot]. She's just tired of photographerz that beat. on. her.

Rhonetta Johnson
- Talent like you've never seen in befo. She's sexxxy. She's different. And no, she don't want any of yo bubbly water.

the Totz of YouTube
- The shining futurez of tomorrow: High, terrified, violent & foul-moufed, they'll kick the azz of any monsta that gets in their way!

Deven Green - Comedic geniuz who can teach you everyting you're too stupid to already know about STDz. Remember, if the guy seems suitable, put out!

Bitchez Gettin' Hurt
- They say laughter is the best medicine. If so, the physical and emotional pain of deez hoz should make dem your personal doctor. Oooowwwwwowooow!


Review these videoz above and cast ur vote! And feel free to comment and campaign for your favorite. Remember folkz, this is really important [read as: not in the slightest].



Saturday, November 14, 2009

This is what earplugz are made for.

It's dat time again! Time for me to force you choloz to listen to the vocal belching I delusion mahself to believing is "singing." I asked on Puntabulous what songz peepz thought I should sing and one of mah favo peepz ever, Tam, responded. They suggested that I go old-skoll [aka circa 2003] and pull some Hilary Duff outta mah pocket. Remember her?! Back before she was making out wiff peepz on Gossip Girl and having sex wiff scorpions, she was Disney's favo pop-slut. Then she grew outta her diaperz and was replaced wiff an even spunkier starlet, Miley Cyrus. Sorry Duffster, but to quote Rhonetta, you're for def def deffers "funky & played-out."

Then I asked peepz to suggest male singerz for me to crap on and of course someone said Justin Timberlake. Then I imagined mahself punching whoever said dat in the nose, cuz let's be completely honest, I might be a douchebag, but Justin frrrealz is ten timez worse. What a dick! So after I shot down that suggestion, Jesse McCartney's punkazz name was brought up and I smiled and agreed.

Then as torture a bonus I thought I'd record a third video...one that I am sure none of you peepz know about. I blogged about it befo anyone liked me and I thought this was a prime time to pull it outta mah little bag of trix. That growling little dog-gremlin Lil Mama released a song last year that honestly NO ONE seems to know about (except for Val, who I shared it with). It's mad hott & sassyfrassy and I'm pissed (but not surprised) that it bombed. Take a gander @ the vidz and feel free to send me a mailbomb:

"What Dreams Are Made Of" - Hilary Duff




"Leavin'" - Jesse McCartney




"Truly In Love" - Lil Mama (feat. Peter Toh)



Friday, November 13, 2009

I could eat you up, I love you so.

I've had mah heart ripped out. I am legally dead and mah funeral is nexxxt week [bring party favorz!]. Okay, I'm not totez frrrealz, but after seeing Where the Wild Things Are last wednesday wiff David, I have to admit that mi corazon is un poco broken. I was expecting this movie to be a bit of a cheez-festival what with it being based on that kid's book that I never read/looked at. All I really know about its author, Maurice Sendak, is that he is also the creator of that god awful Little Bear series that was alwayz playing on Nick Jr. when I wanted Rugrats to come on. Booo! That bear was such a little bitch and I hope someone made a rug outta his punk-azz.

Anywayz, I went into the film a little skeptical. I left it, however, quite speechless and quite in love. Yes, the story was great. Yes, the effects were amazin'skatez. Yes, the acting was prett brillz. But what really got mah heart to erupt in a barrage of empathetic volcanic juicez was the character of Alexander! He was this goat-being that was smaller than all the other Wild Tingz that was constantly picked on and occasionally ignored by the otherz. He was tragically innocent and sweet and sensitive and easily wounded. JUST LIKE ME! I wanted to give him a thousand hugz and then marry him.

I spent the entire film pinching David whenever Alexander was on screen (so he knew to pay extra close attention!) and then screaming in disgust whenever he wasn't. I want him to have his own spin-off movie/television series that I can cry to every night. For some reason I always fall slightly in lurrrve wiff the fictional characterz that are pathetically insecure and overtly delicate. So therefore I shall induct Alexander into mah Supa Sensitivo Cry-A-Lot Club where he can mope around and be sad along wiff Billy Bibbit from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Chad Linus from the MTV television series 2Gether. Huzzah!

David got mad jellerz and annoyed wiff me for the rest of the night cuz all I tcould talk about was my new boyfriend. He threatened to beat me up and then I cried. Then he did beat me up and I cried some more.


As we were walkin' through the movie theater [which is like a maze!] I took note of several movie posters that caught mah eye:

Some scary movie called The Crazies that looked cool. Though I would have liked it better if it was renamed Drag Me To Hell 2 starring Enrico & I.


I saw this poster and went blind due to the thousand rapid eye-rollz I experienced. It's just mah initially reaction to gratuitously annoying photo-shopped whore-men. This movie lookz dumb and seems like sumfing the majority of the Puntabulous peepz will be all hawt & bothered about. Boo! I'ma go watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the 50th time instead!


Then as we were about to leave the theater, I ran into two of mah best friends, Enrico & Mo'Nique. They were kabitzing about how hard it is to be women and what they were planning on putting in their frying pans when they got home. Sadly I have yet to see Mo'Nique's sure to be Oscar-nominated performance in Precious. NEED. TO. SEE. IT. SOOOOON!


What movie have you choloz y gringaz seen lately? What are you excited to see?! Let me judge your cinematic choicez!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Ten Rando Tingz

So I'm back with another installment of Ten Rando Tingz. Commuting to and from Nueva Nueva three diaz a week allots me many instancez to witness bizarre and picture-worthy situations. My camera-phone has been in overdrive lately trying to keep up with the constant barrage of weird shit I find mahself staring at each and every day. Here are some of the stranger cosas I've had the pleasure of experiencing in the past month or so:

Abused Boy on Bus Advertisement: Being as I am a commuter that must ride a bus for a total of over three hours each day I work in Brooklyn, I am routinely bombarded with absurd and highlarious advertz that are plastered to the sidez of public transportation vehicles. This geniuz example of publicity comic perfection alwayz putz a smile on mah puss. I'm guessing it's promoting some study about kids with tourettes/attention disorderz/some other fake crap people make up so they can feed their kids drugs. First off, blah blah...ADD...zzzz...snore...not real...chut uh...zzzz. Secondly, I wish this picture was actually a television commercial cuz I can only imagine the bust-a-gut situation that took place prior to that little brat making such a pathetically overacted facial expression. Hell, if/when I have a kid, if he/she are obnoxious assholez that make noise and shout rando trash @ strangaz then I will give mahself a pat on the back and a congratulations for raising a child in such a cookie cutter image of mahself. Don't condemn mayhem and chaos! Encourage it!


Bathroom Sign: I don't know why I find this so damn funny. Oh wait, yes I do...I was drunk as three skunkz when I saw it. After grabbing a few drankz wiff mah sister in the Port Authority bus terminal a few weeks ago, I went to make some lemalade at the restroom. This sign was plastered next to the door. Literally looking at the sign it seems that you're allowed to do only two things while in the bathroom:
1.
Stand next to crippled peepz; or
2.
Punch midgets.


Seahorse: This hand-crafted beautiful work of art is the only bit of decoration used to spice up the bathroom at the CVS pharmacy that's next to mah bus stop. So if my bladder is about to explode by the time my bus dropz might bloated azz off in central Jerzee, I know I can look forward to staring at this burn-victim sea animal while I whizzz away mah worries. I don't question its existance or its reason for adorning the bathroom wall. I simply enjoy.


Subway Safety Sign: Craig already pointed out the peculiarity of another subway precaution sign a few weekz ago, so I thought I'd share one that I found to be delightfully silly. Basically if you decide you want to cha-cha slide between the closing subway doorz, you will not only delay the train and everyone on it, but you will begin to bleed uncontrollably out of every pore until you start to look like you're completely coated in red paint. I tink that this is a viable precursor to being dragged to hell [read as: something I'm totez gonna try out tomorrow]!


The Creepiest Thing of All-Time: This poster is hanging up in mah friend Xtina's apartment in Brooklyn. It belongz to her roommate. Neither of us know what's goin' on. But even though it makes me feel as though mah eyeballz have been raped, I still think that it's a fine substitution for Adam Lambert's debut album cover.


Lackluster Advertising: There are roughly 7 to 8 eateries in mah little hometown outside of Princeton. And the number of restaurantz/pizza parlorz/coffee shoppez just keeps growing. The demand for all of these establishments is starting to dwindle, thus creating quite a heavy bit of competition amongst the restaurant entrepreanuers of the town. One of the places that is for def def defferz losing the battle of the food wars put this chalkboard up in front of their door last week. I lurrrve how they have basically accepted their failing defeat and have given up on even trying to compete. No daily specials listed. No sale promos. Not even "GOOD FOOD," or sumfing cheeky like that. Just an illogical "Yes!" But you wanna know sumfing? It's cuz of the pointlessness of this goofy-ass sign that I actually went into that store that day and bought a coffee. A small coffee, but still a coffee nevertheless.


Bus Stop Vandalism: As you can tell, my skills as a graffiti artist are quite stellar.


Thrift Store T-Shirt: Really? Oh yes, really. I was minding mah own business, attempting to scavenge through rack after rack of dirrty, musty clothes in some Indie NYC thrift store looking to find a plaid shirt for mah costume to wear on Helloween (I ended up wearing one I already owned) and then I come across dis. Seriously, is there anything anyone can really say about it? Anyone? Anyone?


"Murder With Puffins": Why yes, I was an English major el la universidad! How ever did you guess? Was it because I have a literary nose fine-tuned to such a delicate degree that I can smell the high-quality readz out of a stack of libros? Fellow bookworm Enrico joined me during a visit to the local Goodwill a few months ago. I forget the reason for our trip in the first place, largely because once we got to the "used book section" [read as: a broke-ass shelving unit wiff twenty raggedy paperbacks on it] my mind was ensnared and captivated by the single greatest title I have ever laid my eyes on. The Catcher In the Rye? Fuck off. To Kill a Mockingbird? Snoooore parade! In Cold Blood?! Go eat a dick! The winner is most definitely Murder with Puffins. Oh yes, the puffins are the weapon in this murder! Sadly I didn't have the 50 centz needed to purchase this surefire classic. Guess I will just have to wait until the box set (feat. fellow bestsellers Arson with Polar Bears and Petty Theft with Sea Otters) comez out and get all three for a bargain price down at the Pick 'N' Save.


Dick Chicken: I'm always saving da best for last. Xtina and I were going on a cute little straight couple date a few weeks ago [aka getting pizza and gossiping about sexxxy dudez after work] when we came across sumfing that caught my eye. As anyone who knowz me can inform you, there are few tingz in the world I lurrrve more than pizza. It could be raining beluga whalez who are vomming meteors at the Earth, and if I'm in the mood for pizza, ain't shit dat's gonna stop me from getting it! Well ladiez and choloz, the Dick Chicken [oh yeaaaah, it gets its name bolded already] stopped me dead in mah stupid trackz. I forgot about my ensuing pizza heaven and literally collapsed to the ground and fumbled wiff my camera-phone for three minutez trying to get the picture just right. I needed to get the highest quality photo I could, so that when I go to pick up the family poultry for this year's Tankzgivin', I can have an accurate picture to show the butcher at the supermarket. And if he scoffs @ mah request for a bird that is half chicken/half cock, well...I'm just gonna have to look that hater in the pupils and tell him that he can "suck it!" BEAUTIFUL.

Monday, November 9, 2009

My Monday Muse

the 'Rejected' Cartoon
Back in high school, I was in a rock band. I played the bass guitar/keyboardz and my childhood best friend Brian played regular guitar. Wellz, our group [named Big American Party] recorded an album. Since Brian was/is an expert in the wayz of music recording/production and had all these fancy machines we'd play our instruments into, I'd often go over to his house after work/school and stay there till one en la mañana recording my parts for our songs.

Well, on our breakz when we grew tired of being brave recording heavenly auditory melodies and beatz, we'd fart about the interwebz and laugh ourselvez stupid over the dopey crap we'd find.

One night, Brian blessed mah life with the following video. It's a collection of silly little animationz that are bizarre and disturbing [aka my favo two adjectivoz]. Please enjoy [read as: you have to cuz this was an Oscar-nominee and if you don't enjoy it, then I will believe you have 0% taste]:



My favorite partz:

1:04: Why does the banana feat. vacuum cleaner soundz?

1:47: The cause of airborne swine flu.

2:18: One of these things is not like the other! Ostracize him! Beat his nalgaz!

3:39: Yay! Just like The Fourth Kind [aka sumfing I'm majorly hard for]!

4:28: The source of the infamous "infant cry" in Aaliyah's "Are You That Somebody?" (feat. Timbaland). Why is the baby named "Poopy?" Even as a nickname...NOT NORMAL!

5:43: Mr. McMarsh'N'Mallow needz to get his sloppy azz some Chipotlaway! Or at least shove three ShamWowz down his trouserz while Jill givez him a tutorial on proper sanitary pad disposal: fold it ova, wrap it up and put it in the nearest wastebasket...scary that I didn't even need to reference the video to recite that?

7:14: The cartoons all get dragged to hell via apocalypse. Yay! 2012!


Saturday, November 7, 2009

Cat Fight!

Today at the Pennington municipal building [one town ova] there were free rabies shots. And since Shawn & I lurrrve our sweet beautiful babiez [feat. anyting dat is free] we got our azzes up early and dumped Mowgli & Hermanita in the car and sped off. Baberz is one effing lucky cholito gato for getting his shot when he was high as a kitty kite during his anti-testicle operation, so he didn't have to get dragged to hell along wiff his padres. Shawn & I had our heartz explode while driving our poor pusses and having them scream their feline throats out. For serial, you would tink that by the way they were crying that Shawn & I were ripping their claws out with tweezers, not just driving 15 minutes up the road.

When we got there, I stayed in the car with one of the catz while Shawn took the other one into the building in our single carrier case. It didn't help that there were dogz everywhere surrounding the car barking like a pack of stupid buttholez. But neither Mowgli or Hermanita ran away, so I consider the venture a success. So proud of my baaaaabiez! And to honor them I thought that I would share a cute lil' video that I took last week while I was chillin' in the living room. Seriously...shit like dis is priceless and I'm lucky I caught it on video! Huzzzzzah!!!


Thursday, November 5, 2009

And I don't even like the cello...

I know I am slightly stealing a page outta mah dearest friend Enrico's blog, but it was because of a recent entry of his that I am inspired to share an awkward situation that took place when I was a little tot. It was about 13 yearz ago when I was prox 10 years old. I was a quiet little gringo [hard to believe, I know] that usually kept to himself. I was [and still am] incredibly sensitivo and I cried all the time for basically no reason. But still, I was me and that's all I could be!


One autumn, mi madre and her brother were kabitzing about an old friend of theirs from prox a million yearz ago and how he lives in Colorado but was visiting the East Coast later that month. They got in contact with him and set up a rendezvous where they could catch-up and gossip on timez gone by and reminiscent and all that old person crap.

Well a few weekz later, their friend came to visit and he met my entire familia. Being that I was only ten, I didn't really pay much attention to his existence and instead watched Baywatch in mah room wiff my sister for most of his visit. Though when my mom forced me to interact with him, I talked about the only thing I really knew to discuss with adults, and that's school. I distinctly remember making up some stuff I had been learning in my classes and that's when he took note of the cello that was gathering cobwebs in my bedroom.

Back story: From 5th grade to my senior year in high school, I was a member of the Hopewell Valley Regional School District's orchestra. Out of no less than 8 cellists, I never progressed passed the second to last chair. I sucked and admit that I stayed in the orchestra for only two reasonz:
1. It was an easy A.
2. Each year we'd go on mildly amusing trips to places like Boston, Orlando and Six Flags: Great Adventure.

But when it came down to my talents @ cello-playing...well, let's just say that Lindsay Lohan's vocal abilities rival my skills at that cursed instrument.

Wellz, he started asking me questions about my aspirations and I was all lyke "the cello's okay, I guess," tinking that mah blatant disregard for everything he was asking me would make it abundantly clear that I don't really care for the orchestra at all. Then he went back to talk about borrring stuff wiff my parents and I was able to get back to the TV just in time to catch Supermarket Sweep.

Flash forward two dayz. I was in my room being too cool [read as: lame] to be bothered with trivial things like "friendz" when I heard a knock at the door. I was all alone since my parents were at work and my sisters actually had lives, so I ran to see who was disturbing my [non] life. It was the cello-dude. He asked me if I was alone and I stupidly was all like, "Yeah. So?" and he was all lyke "Oh, do you want to go get ice cream with me?"

In my head I was lyke, "You stupid asshole, can't you tell that I'm busy trying to score 120 stars in Super Mario 64?! Plus, you're mega creepy and I'm ten fuzzing years old." But since I was shy and scared of speaking my mind, I prolly said sumfing like "mumble, mumble...I'm sick or sleepy...errr, mumble...cry...whine, mumble..." I eventually shut the door in his face and went back to saving Princess Toadstool's desperate whore-azz.


Then some monthz went by and I completely forgot that this dude even existed. My life had been progressing nicely [read as: I had beaten Mario 64 and had moved onto playing Diddy Kong Racing and Star Fox 64 religiously]. It was the holiday season and my familia received a Christmas card in the mail. I have tried to block this out of my mind due to how fucking bizarre it is, but the note scribbled in the card said sumfing along the linez of dis:

"Hey Pages! Just wanted to wish you all a happy holiday..."

Nice enough, right? Hold up, it gets for serial demented:

"I was thinking about Josh and was wondering if he'd want to come enroll at a cello camp out here in Colorado. He could stay with me while he was out here. We could go skiing and snowboarding and have a great time getting to know each other better..."

I'm ten years old. And who the fuck are you again? And just in case my sickeningly disinterested tone throughout our first and last 5-minute conversation wasn't a big enough hint, I DON'T EVEN LIKE THE CELLO. But then he ended the note saying...

"Take care Josh, hope to hear from you! Oh and P.S.: I've been working out!"

HUH?!??!?! What? And if my parentz weren't alarmed enough at the fact that this holiday card had turned into a weirdly obsessed love letter to their young son, there was a little drawing scribbled at the bottom of the note. I assume it's supposed to he or I having a GrEaT FuCkInG TiMe SnOwBoArDiNg out at his rape-ranch in Colorado...I shit you not...this is exactly what it looked like:


So yeah. My dad freaked out and called him and said some tingz I can't even write here on Josh Is Trashy. And tank Jeebuz for that, cuz we never heard from that anus brigade ever again. And while it was terrifying while it was happening, in retrospect, I feel bad for that perverto. If you gotz to get ur rockz off to prepubescent little boyz who look like aliens and try to seduce them via testicular manipulationz of stick figures, then you for serial must be one DESPSERATE CHOLO. Get a life, and not one that's at all near me.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Teardropperz On My Guitar

I hate when you ask somebody "What music do you like?" and their response is "Anything but country." I feel like that's everybody's immediate cop-out and if I am having a convo wiff somebody and they drop such a generalized and thoughtless answer, I immediately vom at them and walk away to leave them stewing in mah warm beef chunkz. For serial...as judgem3ntal as I am about different kindz of music, I still try to keep myself cognizant to all genres and try and appreciate the uniqueness that makes them special. I am really smart and open-minded! (good for me!)

Anywayz, I say this because within this past year, I have found mah earz flap-jacking all over the musical world, taking note of all sortz of different soundz and such. I've found myself diving into the world of country music a lot recently. Of course when I say "world of country music" you all know that I really mean "female singer/songwriters of the world of country music." Yay! I find that ladies write depressing love songz much more eloquently [read as: painfully] than stupid idiot men do and since being sad is one of mah favo past times, I have a wide selection of depresso espresso musica to drown mi vida in!

For awhile, I found mahself listening to Carrie Under-Bot's "Jesus, Take the Wheel" on repeat while riding the bus to and from work. The song is all about living a terrible life and having a baby and giving up and having Jeebuz save your punk azz from car crashez. Huzzah! This song also won bonus pointz wiff moi for being performed by mah favorite American Idol season six contestant, LaKisha Jones! Sassy and heartfelt! [P to da S: while embedding that Idol link, I got distracted for over 30 minutes looking up other LaKisha performances. Lovez you forevz, KiKi!]

Then I started getting into my Taylor Swift obsession [aka waking up, smelling the coffee and realizing she's amazinskatez!]. The first time I heard "White Horse" my heart literally stopped working and I had to go to el medico so I didn't die. The video has a poor little T. Swift cryin' sparkly diamond tearz out of her sugary gumdrop eyez and the first time I saw it I had flashbackz of when my ex thought it was a good idea to try and crush mah existence by saying he didn't need me in his life. Weeeeeeee! Now I'm ova him and can listen to "White Horse" all I want and pretend he's watching me sing it on American Idol [country week] and sticking his foot in his mouf.

And how can we talk about waterfall-inducing country singer/songwriterz and not mention The Wreckers (feat. one of the chicaz that made me cry 24/7 in high school, Michelle Branch)?! I got their CD at the end of the summer and immediately fell deeply in love wiff [read as: became incredibly depressed by] their song "Tennessee." Ug! Why couldn't I have written that perfectly understated and utterly devastating chorus?!

But alas none of these trackz have given me more heart palpitationz than dis following ditty...

Prox three yearz ago, I was watching some goofy music awards show when I decided that I needed a snack. So I trudged off to the kitchen and while I was making myself a PB&J sammich, I took note of a particularly tortured sounding vocalist coming from the other room. By the time I got back in, the performance was more or less over and I forgot all about the song.

Wellzzzz, a few semanaz ago, I was trying to write a poem that didn't suck and I kept wanting to use the line "Why don't you stay?" but sumfing felt all funnerz about it. Then I realized that it was because I was stealing the line from that song that I barely heard several yearz before!

After being pissed that I'm not nearly talented enough of a writer to come up wiff something that's both beautifully simple yet effectively unforgettable as that line, I looked up the song . It's coincidentally called "Stay" and it's by some group called Sugarland that has sold millionz of CDs despite the fact that I had no effing clue who the shiz they are. I then downloaded it and haven't stopped bawling for two weekz. Seriously...my house is starting to look like Nyahleanz [read as: New Orleans] after Hurrican Katrina flooded its ass. Watch the video and then try to tell me that you don't feel completely broken on the inside:


Monday, November 2, 2009

My Monday Muse

Victoria

It seems like little grrrlz always seem to grow up craving to be a mommy. What wiff their baby dollz and the sexual boundariez imposed on them by society, it seemz engrained in little ladies to grow up and have a large, fruitful familia. And that's perfectly fine! Beautiful even. I wish more peepz would fill their lives with love and ambitions of such genuine happiness. I wish more peepz were like this ambitious young woman below. Victoria, please inspire us:



Beautiful soul! Talk about being a selfless martyr! Victoria is clearly the reincarnation of Mama Theresa what wiff her willingness to sacrifice [aka what real women do] her body to support her child. I mean, sure peepz may wanna slam her azz (in more wayz than one) for tryin' to sperminate her life away at the tender age of fifteen but all dem hoz are just mad jellerz that they don't have their "life game" planned out like Victoria here. College? Booo! A real-person jerb? Lame! Marriage?!?! Who needz all that goofy crap when you can have your raisin-boobiez flashed on Girls Gone Wild while shitting out a mentally-handicapped reject baby a bundle of innocent joy?!

Sure, you can call her a "playa," but grrrlfriend OWNz it because, as we all know, she's got it like dat. Prostituting her body? No probz! She'll do whatever it takes to give her baby whatever it needs. Clothes? She's gonna sell her rump so her baby only has designer threadz [read as: cheap street knock-offz]. Is that baby cold? Homegrrrl gotz all the beach towels blankets the little tot could ever want! Toyz? She shop-lifted all that gooood shiz outta the local Goodwill. She's even got three pacifierz (she uses dem in role-playing) so the baby, just like her mama, will always have sumfing to suck on. Cute!

And look at her mom, trying to front and step in on her daughter's life game! What. A. Bitch! She obviously knows nuffin' about having babiez, cuz as we can tell, she didn't give birth to a mere mortal human being. She gave birth to a goddess among goddesses and she should be tanking Jeebuz that her daughter turned out to be such a sacred deity. Saint Victoria, go on wiff your heavenly whore-azz! I lurrrvez you.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Halloweeniez!

This entry is a pseudo-follow up to mah last entry about Helloween costumez and all that good shit. I hope you all had a vundervill time last night get sloppy and/or stupid and being all silly in ur different get-upz! As I mentioned, I went to Nueva Nueva last night and met up wiff mah two best friends from college, Xtina & Sam. We kabitzed about Canal Street wiff some of their awesome friendz and I was pleasantly surprised to have Jere Keys and David Pasteeeeeeeeelnick also join our motley crew of cowboyz, gangstaz, corpses, religious iconz and Rock of Love Bus hookerz.


Here is me before heading out:

[P to da S: the only ting I bought for this costume was the handkerchief which I got at a thrift store for $1!!]


I drank a lot, posed inappropriately wiff toy gunz, had a million pix taken of moi [cuz I'm a glamor hog], ate pizza and danced before stumblin' my goofy rodeo bunz back to Xtina's Brooklyn apartment and collapsing into a candy coma [feat. waaaaay too many Almond Joyz & Whopperz]. And though I thought my costume was pretty self-explanatory, it was alarming as to how many peepz felt a need to guess what I was. Some thought I was supposed to be Woody from that Toy Story franchise, though I don't know what about mah costume makes it seem specific to that character. I had one guy shout out "Yo Brokeback!" which I guess I had coming to me, considering the slut shortz I donned. But by far mah favo comment of the night was when this one grrrl walked up to me, pointed her index finger at mah chest, looked me in the eye and said "Homosexual." BEST. COMMENT. EVER!

All in all it was a grand night. I made some new amigoz, got mah party on and was able to up my Facebook photos count [aka the point of my attention-craving existence]. What did you folkz do on your Helloween night? Get dressed up? Go out somewhere? Watch a spookfest movie? Pelt children with candy?! TELL MEEEEE!