|
 Other stuff- favorite sites and other features. All links open in a new window. eventually
there will be descriptions.
 Daily
'zines
and weblogs:.
zulkey
gawker
the black table
flak
magazine
haypenny
uber
neal pollack
eyeshot
ben
brown
lockhart
steele
off
on a tangent
left
pedal
whatever-whenever
maud
newton
yankee
pot roast
matt
tobey
the
morning news
flavorpill
deckie
holmes
wwkad?
sarah
balcomb
the
wicked
TMFTML
elizabeth
spiers
bunsen
whatevs.org
traveler's
diagram
jeans
and a tshirt
f
train
scott
writes
dong
resin
tremble
girls
are pretty
utter
wonder
catherine's
pita
casa
de punk
information
leafblower
number
one hit song
the
kicker
coolfer
the
fold drop
zack
i
keep a diary
ultragrrrl
this
is not a pipe
monosyllabic
tale
of two cities
television
solar system
old
hag
que
sera sera
the
blueprint
stereogum
the
sticking point
Other 'zines and weblogs:
less frequent, still great.
kittenpants
pindeldyboz
the
big jewel
jest
magazine
the
plug
david
barringer
stevie
k.
yank
the chain
quality
lit
opium
the
simon
other
people's stories
found
magazine
really
small talk
mr.
beller's neighborhood
whittlz
(parenthetical
note)
knot
magazine
so
new media
break
up girl
sparks
fly up
serial
text
me
three
viceland
maura.com
miami
stories
reinventing
the world
monkeybicycle
Misc sites -
Ex
Christian.net - bitter yet cathartic.
the
english server - one of my first favorite websites.
this
american life - listen online while you clean.
lynne
spears' weblog - the horror, the horror.
 Bands
and Music
not even close to complete.
the
information
coup
fourre
pilot
to gunner
crooked
fingers
believe
in toledo
the
rock coaches
the
cignal
the
coastal drag
flaming
lips
neutral
milk hotel
the
wicked
the
modern age
jenyk
melody
nelson
new
york doll
tiny
mix tapes
filter
pitchfork
w.a.s.t.e.
NME
q
magazine
earlash
the
pill
crashin'
in
kingblind
asobi
seksu
hard
glitter
ultragrrrl
cock
of the block
 Brooklyn and beyond
free
williamsburg
billburg
block
magazine
little
gray books
cobble
hill cinemas - five dollar movies in nyc!
pete's
candy store
northsix
galapagos
southpaw
office
ops
the
madagascar institute
housingworks
PS
1
 Comedy
and comedians
bob
and david
christian
finnegan
ed
herro
eugene
mirman
patton
oswalt
irritable
colon
todd
barry
corn
mo
eating
it
tinkle
the
people's improv theater
ucb
demetri
martin
jesse
popp
david
feldman
 Clips - stuff
I wrote for other sites.
for flak magazine:
review
of "for love or money"
weekly
column about the tv series Joe Millionaire,
installments 1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6
and 7.
review
of the anniversary party
review of blow
review
of moulin rouge
for the black table:
waxing
off: the superbowl
waxing
off: self-love
waxing
off: summer camp
weekly
column about the craig's list
website:
january
31
february
7
february
14
february
21
february
28
march
7
march
14
march
21
march
28
april
18
very
small contribution to first BT cheap beer review
for haypenny:
if
my mom wrote a sex advice column
for kittenpants:
re
"print" of above - if my mom...
for uber:
new
instant messenger acronyms (with Claire Zulkey)
for mcsweeney's:
alternative
anniversary gift traditions
for eyeshot:
four
new noble professions
grab
bag :
an
interview with me at zulkey.com
a
song about me by the band and comedy team irritable
colon - and songs about other people too.
mean things people wrote about me on craig's list while
I was writing the craig's list column - I wish I'd thought
to save them all:
lindsay
reads cl to get guys - but of course.
lindsay
looks 35 - but I got carded for American Beauty!
missus
robertson - I wish I had a comp lit degree!
the
old site - what I ate for breakfast, Dec. 2000-
present
pictures
- oh, to be a rodeo queen.
|
 the L word- Links,
events, anecdotes, experiments, bad advice, esoteric
gossip, and gushy worship of my favorite things. updated daily and spell checked
for your pleasure!
What you're looking at now is just the archive of the stuff I wrote from December 18, 2003 - January 30, 2004. My current and updated site, Lindsayism.com, IS RIGHT HERE.
Attention all HBO On-Demand Users:
Okay, it's a 1993 documentary and it's called By Satan Possessed.
It's a documentary about Satanists Among Us. And you need to order it as soon as possible because I watched it yesterday and it's the funniest thing I've ever seen. And it's not just a one-trick pony, either. It gets funnier and funnier as it goes along, finally reaching an unbelievable and hilarious climax. I was under the impression that 1993 was part of the Age of Irony, but apparently not so much if this was a real documentary. I'm telling you: the Spinal Tap/Guffmann/Best in Show/Mighty Wind guys could do a shot-for-shot remake of this thing using actors, and you wouldn't be able to tell which was the doc and which was the mock. It's so dated, too - like, nobody believes Multiple Personality Disorder exists anymore! (and that sucks, because it's the most hilarious disease of all). This show gave me the idea for a one-woman theater project called "Multiple Personality Disorder: The Musical."
(Sorry about yesterday. I was experiencing a Chinese Food Consumption Related allergic reaction. See? I told you I shouldn't eat that stuff. (But thanks for dinner, Ben!)
I know we all read The Onion, but I just have to say this is my favorite one in a long time.
( But what if God sees me as a slut?)
Sometimes I google too much. Like today:
Christian Advice on "How To Be Attractive"
Now that I'm on a "movies I loved in college" kick, what the fuck ever happened to Whit Stillman? I just googled that very phrase (without the expletive) and unearthed an essay arguing that Stillman's trilogy was Christian, and this fan page bearing recent news that Stillman is working on a Jane Austen adaptation. I'm widely known for my refusal to see period films (Dangerous Liasons doesn't count), but I might check that one out.
uh oh, time for a Kicking and Screaming quote:
"I'm nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I've begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I'm reminiscing this right now. I can't go to the bar because I've already looked back on it in my memory...and I didn't have a good time."
The site 1115.org asked bloggers for their Guilty Pleasures last week, and I did one but forgot to link to it! Maybe it was subconsciously because mine is the most embarrassing of all.
Here they are. (oh, and btw, Kicking and Screaming is not a "guilty pleasure." Kicking and Screaming is a cinematic masterpiece!)
Somebody should make a "free Winona"-style tshirt with Claire Danes on it and "Homewrecker" underneath.
Information Round Up
New York Doll's write-up and pictures. What does a guy have to do to stop being compared to Judd Nelson? More, it seems. He's the one I would have gone out with in The Breakfast Club anyway, so maybe it's apropos.
Jenyk's pics of the show are up. I think Jenyk hearts the girls.
Another gushy Weekly Dig article Only read it if you're really really interested in the Boston music scene. Really, really interested. Like, more interested than me. Or probably the band itself.
Hi. Test. No Subject. (Yawn.)
Viruses are so last year. I don't understand why these virus makers don't get more creative. They could turn us all into unwitting participants in a massive social experiment/soap opera, but instead they mess up our computers. Ooooh! How brilliant!
If they really wanted to fuck with everyone and change the course of history, they would make one of these:
Two Suggested Viruses
*A virus that sends out every saved draft email to its originally intended recipient.
*A virus that sends the last twenty emails you've sent out, to everyone in your address book.
Jobs would be lost, relationships would disintegrate, tears would be shed, phone lines would be tied up for hours. And the whole damn thing could be sponsored by an alcohol company.
I just had this little fantasy that Peter Sarsgaard googled "Peter Sarsgaard" "Oscar" and "Robbed" and found this site and dumped Maggie Gyllenhaal for me. He's so on my "list."
Oscar Nominees, yawn. These are going to be the most boring Oscars ever. Big Fish and Peter Sarsgaard were robbed. Though it's exciting that Errol Morris might take home his first Oscar ever (for The Fog of War) this year.
It has been an unbelievable week for Low Culture. If I were the kind of person who said "LOL" (except in person, because I think that's funny), I would say that now.
A new one for me:
Blogging about someone who is in the same room blogging about me.
My head hurts.
The Simple Life: Another Unfunny Post
You know that question: If there was a fire and you could only save X-number of things, what would you save? I sort of answered that for myself this weekend, when I had to remove everything I cared about from my burned-out apartment in a very small amount of time, without the use of a truck or much of anywhere to store it (I don't move into my new place for another week.) Turns out, when I was done, more than half of my belongings remained unpacked and mostly uncared about. Some things I had to save, or I would have needed therapy to get over the loss:
-Letters and diaries going back to 7th grade, including an extremely well-documented junior year of high school, complete with bad poetry, daily diary entries, tortured love letters, photos, and even the flannel shirt my boyfriend wore every day that year. And the poem I wrote the day Kurt Cobain died. An example of it's terribleness, the last line:
"And then you whispered: 'Nevermind'." (gag)
-The polaroids I took every day from January 1 - April 1, 2002, which include my only existing artifacts of a good friend I'll never see again.
-The diaries of my first year in New York.
-The large plastic bag containing September 11 artifacts, including the dust mask I wore.
-My personally signed Kurt Vonnegut first editions, my original issues of Might Magazine, my limited edition David Cross poster, and every issue of McSweeney's.
Not much else mattered, yet so much remained. I never would have thrown out the stuff I lost, but I should have. It feels kind of good not to be so tied down by "stuff." (It will feel even better, however, to LIVE SOMEWHERE. Just one more week...)
My friend Bryan, who, coincidentally, will be the first male featured in "Date My Friend", has just launched his own dating website, and I like it:
Love In War: "Dating for the Agitated."
Last Names It Would Suck To Coincidentally Have:
Buttafuoco
Sharpton
Conger
Durst
Nolte
Stapp
McVeigh
Swayze
Bush
I got an idea for a website. Two, actually:
"dontcallhim.com" and "dontcallher.com" You go there, and read a manifesto on why you should not call the person you want to call but shouldn't (like your ex). The original idea came when my friend Jeremy got three calls in one night from a girl he'd JUST started dating and I said "Dude, she shouldn't call you, she should call me, and I'll tell her why she shouldn't call you." (The original idea was for operators to be standing by to tell people how to play their current romantic situation. 1-900-LUVADVICE.)
But back to the website: maybe there would be little tabs you could click on that corresponded to your situation. "Because he's an asshole", "Because of that restraining order", "Because it's only been twenty minutes", "Because you already left her three messages." Etc.
In college, after turning on the movie Ghost one day when it was halfway over, I invented a little game where you come in in the middle of that movie and watch it as if you have no idea that Swayze is dead. It's a tiny, teensy bit funny. Seriously. Especially when he's talking to Demi and she's not responding, or when he tries to move the soda can in the subway, etc. My friend Christy brought this game up the other day, because she had a (much better) one:
Watch the movie 21 Grams, and pretend that Sean Penn is his character from I Am Sam. I didn't realize anything could make the former movie into a laugh fest, but that just might.
I participated in a Focus Group about mp3 players the other day. It turned out to be for Sony's as-yet-unreleased version, The Walkman. (My contribution was to suggest that Walk man was sexist and should be changed to Walk person. But I was kidding.)
So I was doodling on the legal pad they provided to each of us. You know, writing "Lindsay Moretti. Lindsay Robertson Moretti. Lindsay Moretti ( ne Robertson)", etc and since at one point we talked about the iRiver mp3 player, I of course wrote "Cry Me An Iriver" really big and then drew around it for a while, totally planning to throw the page away. But at the end of the session the director-guy said "Be sure to leave your notes on the table when you leave," so I tried to cross stuff out but it was too late!
Being Creatively Fulfilled Is the New Being In Love
I haven't been posting because for part of this week I've been working as a writer in the popular culture industry, and I've been having soooo much fun. I actually got paid to see a teen movie (suckers!) called The Girl Next Door. It was ridiculous and sometimes cheesy, but it had some great lines and, well, I loved every minute of it. (I just read that it was written by the guys who brought us Van Wilder and Saving Ryan's Privates.) And it stars the sleazy bad boy of my fake celebrity harem, Go's Timothy Olyphant.
(Isn't it cute that I felt the need to say "fake" up there?)
I really am THAT busy. No site today either. And if I owe you an email, I'm sorry!
No site today, too busy. Thanks to everyone who came out last night!
Funniest Conversation From this Weekend, and Then I'll Stop:
Laura: "So why are you anonymous anyway? Are you in the Witness Protection Program?"
TMFTML "Yeah, they sent me to New York and told me to read the New York Times and 'blog about it."
I'm very sad to hear that one of my favorite humor sites, Haypenny, has decided to end their 2.5 year run. I will really miss this truly uniquely funny site. Luckily, though, we can still read these guys individual blogs, and they'll presumably now be more likely to participate in the new project Darci Kittenpants and I are working on that we haven't even told them about yet. Thanks for the funny, Matt, Paul, Sam, and Dennis!
Wow, I was just informed by a friend that the redesign of The Information site is up. And I like it.
REQUISITE ANNOUNCEMENT:
The Information at Vicious at Sin-e at 8 tonight.
Info. here, no pun intended.
Brian will take a picture of himself doing anything you want, if you give him money! My suggestions:
*Smoking in the bar at the Plaza Hotel. (assuming there is one.)
*Hanging out with ugly people.
*Front row at a Creed show.
*Kissing a 67 year old woman. (Oh... wait, nevermind.)
Awkwardness Caused By Blogging:
*Running into someone and thinking "Oh shit, do I link to them? Think! Think!"
*Saying "I'm going to tell you something but you can't post about it."
*Being surprised at someone's news and then having them say "I've been blogging about it for two weeks...so...yeah."
AND THE WORST OF ALL, AND ONLY GUYS DO IT (Big surprise):
*"Whipping out" their stats. No buzz!
Two Ideas Regarding The Walk of Shame
My so-late-it's-early returns home this weekend gave me an idea: someone should go out on Saturday and Sunday mornings at dawn and take arty pictures of girls hobbling home in high heels, ripped fishnets, and raccoon eyeliner, looking down and to the right and pushing their bangs in front of their faces. It's sort of a summer idea. Maybe it would make a good fashion spread.
Tune In Tokyo
I saw Girls Just Want To Have Fun this weekend for the first time in years. I always die when Helen Hunt says "I just know I must be horny." Something needs to be done with this movie asap. I'm thinking Broadway Musical (even though I hate musicals) or made-for-MTV remake. (My friend Amanda insists that the Broadway version should be identical to the original and star the original actors - Sarah Jessica Parker, Helen Hunt, Jonathan Silverman, etc as teenagers. And Shannen Doherty as a 12 year old.)
Good heavens, after this weekend I don't think I ever need to go out again. What I learned:
*Talking about how lame and dorky it is to talk about blogging is still just talking about blogging. (Someone actually left a party shaking his head and saying "fucking bloggers.")
*Contrary to my apparently misguided announcement, asses are still not the new tits.
*Whatevs.org is more Lloyd Dobler than Lloyd Dobler. He's the only person I've ever forgiven for not liking Mr. Show. Hopefully that kid will be back soon!
Open Letter To Britney Spears:
I'm so sick of you. For real this time. I wish you could read so you could read this. Stick Fred Durst in yourself, 'cause you're done.
Weekend Shows:
Tonight I'm seeing Asobi Seksu at Mercury Lounge, and tommorrow it's Boston's The Good North, at Plaid.
Judging by my email inbox, I might not have to waste money on roofies to get my hottie friends to participate in DATE MY FRIEND. Yay.
Two Words: I Danced.
Last night I crashed a birthday party and drank way too much with Sarah Ultragrrrl and Scott Stereogum and Jason Productshopnyc and Brian Ikeepadiary and Andy Casadepunk and a zillion other people. The highlight of the evening was meeting Mr. Whatevs.org, who is just so awesome. We had a great conversation about 'blogs and he insisted on dropping me "home" in his cab even though I'm staying 3 blocks from the bar. What a gentleman. He's a class act. I'm seriously impressed with him in every way. I'm sure Detroit is going to miss him when he moves to New York soon (these are my plans, not his. So far.)
When I get my real site permanently back, I'm going to start a new bi-monthly (that's twice a month, right?) feature called "DATE MY FRIEND." The difference between this and a normal personal ad is that the friend in question will be:
1. Selected by me as a highly datable person.
2. Begged to participate.
3. Coerced with alcohol and roofies into letting me post their picture and a short interview on the site.
Get it? So, like, they're not desperate at all, they just don't want to piss me off because of my legendary temper and my powerful position in this town. Or because of my cute wittle dimples and tendency to share candy. Either way, stay tuned for single hotness.
WE HEAR (I've always wanted to say that) that Black Table Editor and Life As A Loser author Will Leitch lost a tooth while internet surfing this morning:
"I was just sitting here at my desk, type type typing away, when my
front tooth, covered in porcelain after a basketball accident five
years ago in St. Louis, suddenly fell out of my mouth. It was weird. One minute I was writing an email, and the next, a large chunk of porcelain was sitting on my keyboard."
Leitch has strict instructions to take pictures before getting it fixed. (What better cover art for Life As A Loser Part II?)
Buddyhead would say it was Interpol...
A pop band is looking for an obese woman for their album cover.
(It would seem easy, but I got nothin'. Insert your own joke here.)
Peter Sarsgaard is the reason I might actually watch The Golden Globes this year. The scary part is, I kinda fell for him first in Boys Don't Cry (as an actor, not the character.)
Hey, That's My Bike!
So I know that everybody loves that band The Killers, but is anybody going to talk about the fact that that was the name of the fake band in New Order's 2001 video for "Crystal"? I tried googling and nothing came up. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that, but it just seems rather...recent. (Note: for all I know, they were around first. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
The other day when I was being forced to watch Sex and the City, there was this "romantic" moment where that russian dude slowly undressed Sarah Jessica Parker and I realized something: I don't have the attention span to be slowly undressed.
Which made me think of
this very very old "review" of the movie "Possession" I wrote on my very very old 'blog.
I'm super-excited to meet Mr. Whatevs.org when he visits New York this weekend. He comes pre-met and highly recommended by Zulkey.
The Straight Dope answers the age-old question What is the plural of "penis"?
(Cliff's Notes: they take exactly 3,051 words to say: "penises.")
One of my favorite comedians/bloggers, Christian Finnegan, is now writing for Tough Crowd With Colin Quinn.
This week, Boston's FNX radio added The Information song "So Clear" to their rotation. If you wanna request it, the number is:
(877) FNXRADI(O)
(877) 369-7234
And the song can be downloaded here.
My friend John Green of Chicago does humorous radio pieces for Chicago's NPR affiliate WBEZ. His latest one, Sexual Math, is particularly funny, and as John points out, "uses the word 'orgasm' twice."
Listen or
Read
Real World San Diego Highlights
(Warning: this post contains a discussion of boat-rape that may be offensive to more sensitive readers.)
Best Scene: After Brad tells everyone that his thing is "8 inches, stacked" but refuses to show it, he and Cameran go into the phone room, where Brad drunkenly calls his girlfriend (at 6:45 a.m., her time) and tells her say how big it is.
Brad: "How big is it...?"
Sleepy Girlfriend: "Eight inches."
Brad: "Yeah, but baby, what kind of eight inches are we talking about?"
Girlfriend: "I don't want to do this."
Cameran crawls out of the room, laughing hysterically. Brad later breaks up with the girlfriend, who needs to write an article called The Real World Stole My Boyfriend for Teen People.
Favorite Cast Member: The Black Guy, Jacquese. Well, if it isn't the very first minority cast member to ever be totally not-paranoid and totally right about his insensitive castmates, and to handle it in the most mature and understanding way possible. He's the opposite of Kevin from the first one.
Least Favorite Cast Member: Robin the Stripper. So, let me get this straight: Robin gets in trouble for drunkenly calling a guy on the street the "N" word, and in order to save her ass from being the house racist pariah, she suddenly comes out with this "He reminds me of a guy who raped me!" defense? I'm not buying it. The rape card is so 1994.
The One I'd Hook Up With: Randy. Okay, so he has faux-pretentious ill-informed conversations about Agnosticism and says things like "If you want to talk about this, I have a lot of knowledge to share", but who am I kidding? Strap a guitar on that kid and I'd french him for hours.
Weirdest scene: Frankie, the smokestack with cystic fibrosis, doesn't want to go on the cast's first job because she's afraid of boats. Not water, not drowning, not sharks: boats. "Big, metal things," to be exact. Huh? After the rest of the cast leads her down the dock by hand as she covers her head with her sweatshirt to avoid seeing any nautical horror, my fellow watcher Eric made the best crack of the night:
"Maybe she was raped by a boat."
(Also there was a southern chick and an asian chick.)
THE END.
Adam Kinesis' Glory Hole, Knot Magazine's sex column, made fun of me today in reference to Nerve.com's plan to hire online daters to blog about their dates:
"Sooner or later, aren't Nerve's bloggers going to be left with nothing to blog about but evenings spent staring lovingly into the eyes of their musician boyfriends? And isn't that sort of Lindsayism territory?"
(I totally deserved that, but for the record, since the eyes of that boyfriend are usually 250 miles away, my evenings are spent staring lovingly into glasses of Maker's Mark, surrounded by New York's cutest boys, but as the saying goes, not a drop to drink.)
If you're like me, you read whatevs.org every day, so if you're like me, This parody page by the funny guys at Yankee Pot Roast, "Whatfore.org" "tickled you to death" as we would say in the South. (And it calls my link "Whimsyism," hee hee.)
If you remember, YPR are the folks who brought us Middle East Gawker
I'm staying with a friend in the Village while awaiting the start of my sublet next week, and I actually considered walking around for a while looking for Spalding Gray. I really hope he's okay. :(
"A lot of people think a lot of things about Hawaii"
Average Joe II: Hawaii thoughts:
*This show is a hoax. The producers never had any expectation or intention of Larissa choosing one of the "average" guys. This show is all about making fun of these men. While I'm certainly up to the task and do so with relish every episode, it's starting to feel weird. I think I'm starting to feel truly sorry for them. I can't imagine what it's going to be like when those (gross) gym rats arrive on a yacht next week. Kids can be cruel.
*Larissa treats the men (particularly David) exactly like she's their 7th grade teacher.
*When Larissa kissed the bald guy with no sweat glands or eyebrows, my friend Stephanie said "It's like the Make-A-Wish foundation for adults!"
Dude, yesterday I got my first swag. Someone sent me their band's cd (by messenger, no less) and enclosed the latest issues of Star, US Weekly, and The National Enquirer. I would like to hold this person up as an example of an outstanding Lindsayism.com reader. (Something tells me I'm really going to like his cd, hahaha.)
Whatevs links to pics of Kate Bosworth's nose job.
Okay, so I think I want that same nose job. I had no idea that making noses less "buttony" was even a thing!
I would just like to give a huge shout-out and thank you to Miss Darci Ratliff, editrix of Kittenpants, for orchestrating the events leading up to me getting the World's Awesomest Sublet starting in February. I'll be living alone for the first time ever, and I can't wait. (Darci, I hope you like firstborn children, 'cause you're getting mine!)
Can I just say that I miss my old site like crazy? The only thing standing between us is a Dreamweaver cd in my old apartment that I'm not allowed to go in until the insurance people are done surveying it. GRRRRRRR.
I'm always bad about linking to the sites that I regularly read, but here are some off the top of my head that I would be permanently linking to on the real site right now if I could (most of these are obvs, I'm a flake and forget to link to things even if I read them every day):
* Product Shop NYC
* Divestar
* Jinners
* Peabs
* glamorama
* 1115.org
* low culture
I Will Now Proceed To Describe A New Yorker Cartoon That Was Particularly Funny This Week:
Noah's ark: A guy says to Noah: "Bad news: the unicorns are gay."
It seems CBS News will be covering this week's trivia night at Pete's Candy Store. Wednesday, 7:30 - 9:30.
Have you ever tried (successfully or not) to give yourself a nickname? If so, tell me about it (lindsay@lindsayism.com) (Don't worry, my stories are so embarrassing yours will pale in comparison. Take that as a comfort, or as a dare.)
Dude, I so have a delivery number for special brownies now. (If you aren't already, now is the time to be friends with me.)
Buddyhead has updated their gossip page. (found out from tale of two cities)
Lots of band gossip, many bands I admit I've never heard of. And then, in the middle, with no explanation, this:
David Spade text messages while pissing in urinals.
(I guess no explanation is necessary, the story tells itself. Ew, though.)
Phrase: "Hair-pretty"
Adjective, Describes person who is good-looking only because they have great hair. Sentence: "I'm not worried about that Interpol groupie throwing herself at my bf; he knows she's only hair-pretty."
The Information are playing Vicious at Sin-e on Tuesday, January 20.
Before there was The Information, Max recorded under the name Holy Roman Empire (for a very short period). The site is now abandoned, but I have to link to Max's cover of Billy Joel's "Pressure" This is the first time anyone's really heard it. I think it's fantastic. Enjoy!
Stereogum weighs in on that godawful Trump show, The Apprentice, that debuted last night. It couldn't have sucked more, of course.
However, my friend and viewing partner Eric came up with a brilliant plan: Me and some girlfriends could clean up selling lemonade in Rock center. All we need is a couple of official-looking dudes with video cameras to follow us around. People will buy anything if they think they're on tv! (Maybe we can just sell water)
Technical Note: The real Lindsayism.com site should be up-ish soon (like Monday). Turns out my computer is fine.
FOUND Magazine is touring all 50 states in 2004! Here are the east coast dates (kinda strange NYC venues, and by "strange" I mean "ordinary." They might want to rethink KGB. That place is so tiny I could probably sell out a reading there based on guilt trips alone.)
april 26, 2004 -- portland, me » casco bay books, 8 pm, 151 middle street, 207.541.3842
april 27, 2004 -- boston, ma (harvard sq.) » harvard book store, 6 pm, 1256 mass. ave., 617.661.1515
april 28, 2004 -- nyc (chelsea) » barnes & noble, 7:30 pm, 675 6th ave. @ 22nd st., 212.727.1227
april 29, 2004 -- nyc (east village) » kgb bar, 7 pm, 85 e. 4th st. @ 2nd ave., 212.505.3360
may 4, 2004 -- philadelphia, pa » barnes & noble/ u-penn, 12:30 pm, 3601 walnut st., 215.898.4900
may 5, 2004 -- philadelphia, pa » fergie's pub, 8 pm, 1214 sansom street, 215.928.8118
may 7, 2004 -- baltimore, md » atomic books, 7 pm, 1100 west 36th st., 410.662.4444
may 8, 2004 -- washington, d.c. » politics + prose, 6 pm, 5015 connecticut ave NW, 202.364.1919
may 9, 2004 -- washington, d.c. » black cat, 9 pm, 1811 14th st. NW, 202-667-7960
More info at the FOUND Magazine site.
I've decided that my favorite scene in any movie is that part in Wet Hot American Summer when Paul Rudd says "I'd give anything for two minutes in the closet with Lindsay." (Incidentally, there are WAY too many people out there who have yet to see that movie. It's only the best comedy of the past five years!)
You know when you were a kid and something happened like you broke your arm or your cat had kittens or something, and at first you were like "I love all this attention!" and then as time wore on you kind of got tired of telling the story, like "enough about the f**king kittens already!"? Well, I'm starting to get that way about the fire. The sweet emails are wonderful, don't get me wrong, I love those. It's just telling the story over and over and over...I should just make a FAQ or something. So, in short: there was a fire, nobody was hurt, most of my stuff is okay, much of the apartment was completely destroyed, and I'm currently looking for an apartment share-type-thing. (that was the short version.)
Oh Yeah, New Year's Pictures
My boyfriend's band The Information and friends hosted a party at Boston's Buckminster Hotel for New Year's. Pretty much all the good Boston bands represented. I don't remember anything after 2 a.m., but luckily, everyone has shown me their impression of me from that night. Apparently I was having trouble remembering what words mean. Boston band photographer justbill.net has an album of photos from the night. (that first one is my favorite, a "cute boy sandwich" - from left: Max, Me, and Pat from The Cignal)
Highdea (I'm so sad without my little graphic!):
My bf got an email from his Colombian aunt the other day, but couldn't read it because he doesn't speak Spanish. So he ran it through Babelfish and it came out sounding funny. That gave me an idea: Babelfish Pals. Like pen pals, but you don't speak the same language and you communicate through Babelfish and put the full text of your correspondence on a website (maybe a version for each language.)
Tomorrow Night: The Black Table's First Anniversary Party I'm excited. If it's anything like the 6 month anniversary party, it should be a blast.
Upcoming Comedy Events
Monday, January 12, Luna Lounge, 8:30 pm:
Confessing It: An Evening of Comic Testimonials
Featuring Jonathan Ames, Mark Maron, and others.
(I saw this a couple years ago and it was really funny, though, since Ames and Maron performed at that one, too, I wonder if they'll confess the same things or new things. Maron's was super-shocking last time.)
Info at the Eating It site
Wednesday, January 14
Tonic, 107 Norfolk Street at Delancey. Doors 8pm, show 9pm. $10.
David Cross performs with Daniel Kitson and my fake boyfriend Demetri Martin
This is what the email said:
Back in May, David Cross performed at the Kilkenny Comedy Festival in Ireland and saw Daniel Kitson - a British comic who has garnered quite a following after winning the prestigious Perrier Award at the Edinburgh Festival in August 2002. David immediately was bowled over and thought he was one of the most inspiring comics he has ever seen. Now Daniel has planned his first ever trip to the US, and David is excited to perform with Daniel and introduce him to American audiences.
Tickets: Tonic box office: 212-358-7503
Listen to this voice mail message Ryan Adams left for a journalist who reviewed his show. (via ultragrrrl) Excerpt:
"You just don't belong anymore. You're probably old and you should probably just retire."
I found the content of this message to be really sincere and true, not whiny at all. And I found listening to this message to be so voyeuristically (audeuristically?) delightful that I propose a web site devoted to the sharing of voice mail messages in mp3 format. Oh shit, that has to already exist! If it did, I would go there every day. I'm not even talking about celebrities, I'm talking about fucked-up post breakup "Here's a call to tell you never to call me again" messages and drunken messages and stuff like that. If anyone knows of a site like that that already exists, email me. I'm going to go look around now...
Hey, go see my friend Whitney Pastorek at the Happy Ending Reading Series tonight. Whit's doing the music. Some guy named Stephen Glass is reading. (presumably fiction, haha.) I'm the queen of obvious jokes.
Completely random opinions gathering up in my head over these few un-blogging weeks:
*Finally read "Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs" by Chuck Klosterman (in one sitting!), and absolutely loved it. I'm dying to know the "correct" answers to the 3 Questions He Asks Everyone He Meets In Order To Determine Whether He Can Love Them. ( Ultragrrrl,can you get on that?)
*Britney Spears and Jason Alexander (the real one, from Seinfeld) totally have to make a surprise appearance together on Weekend Update ASAP.
*I saw the Madonna/Guy Ritchie movie "Swept Away" on HBO last week. Let me say first that even if this movie was good, it still would have gotten pounded by the press. But let me say second that it was truly, truly one of the worst movies in film history. A complete and total disaster made worse by Ritchie's attempt at stylistic, 70's-ish directing, and Madonna's abysmal acting. There's even a scene (no doubt intended to win publicity for being "controversial") where it starts out as rape and turns into making sweet sweet love in a matter of minutes. Oooh! I'm so offended! Worst. Movie. Ever.
*New episode of my favorite show, Curb Your Enthusiasm: was awesome. It's going to be a great season. I've already watched it twice.
*New episode of my least favorite show, Sex In the City (forced to watch by others!): Typically horrible. I see where this is going: Samantha grows a heart at the very last second, Carrie falls inexplicably in love with the utterly boring russian dancer (I don't care enough to look up the spelling of his name), and everyone lives happily ever after. I can comfort myself with the knowledge that:
1. the characters will continue to live miserable lives. (you know, in another dimension) and
2. I have perfected my Kim Cattrall/Samantha impression to the point of maximum hilarity (if I do say so myself)
*Average Joe Hawaii: This is AVERAGE? Maybe for a freak show. "looks vs. charm" my ass. There is no charm involved, only cluelessness. ("Women love my Bahston accent.") I predict this show, like the first one, will end in the Designated Object of Affection choosing one of the physically superior guys. Guess what? In the absence of any charm/wit/intelligence/interestingness from the other guys, I would too. And once again, I ask: what about Average Jane? Will we ever see it? And if not, what does that say about our culture?
Top Ten Moments of 2003
First, I must say that 2003 has been the best year of my life so far. Yay. Here's the list:
1. March 31, 2003, Cambridge, MA, Charlie's Kitchen: The first-ever Information show.
On this day I had the rush of seeing my favorite human being have his best moment ever. I stood on a chair in my new red specially-made "My Other Boyfriend Is A Stroke" tshirt, camera in hand, and watched my old web-geek sweetheart transform into a total fucking rock star before my eyes. You know that feeling where you think your heart might actually burst? I knew the songs were amazing, but seeing him up there with his tight jeans and Iggy-strut, singing lyrics I'd seen first in 4 a.m. emails months before, all I could think was "How does anyone ever fall in love with a lawyer?.
2. February, 2003, the Marriott Marquis in Times Square: I meet President Clinton.
I was my friend Eric's date to a dinner honoring Bono. As we walked down the red carpet and photographers gave us cursory glances to confirm that we weren't anybody, I tried to make that completely disinterested face you're supposed to make, but gave up when I realized I don't have such a face in my arsenal. Eric's father being a Grammy honcho, we had an excellent table from which to gawk. I glanced around, trying to be less wide-eyed, making notes about the various celebs in attendance and whispering things to Eric like "Dude, forget all that cred stuff I always blab about. I'll sell out. Just tell me where to sign." After meeting (through his Dad) Fred Durst (!), Christian Slater, the Dixie Chicks, and John Mayer, we sat down to dinner. Just then, Eric's sister and cousin came back to their seats, blushing and giggling. "He was soooo nice. He was wonderful" said his sister. "Who was?" I asked nosily. "Bill Clinton. He's over there."
I froze. I couldn't move. I clutched my chest. Eric gave me a look that said "I've met him twice already but let's go!" So we went to the Clinton receiving line. After waiting 15 minutes, it was finally my turn. I said "Mr. President, can I have a picture with you?" and he said yes, and I handed my camera to the person behind me in line and said "do you mind?"
The person behind me in line was Jon Cryer. Ducky!
So I hand Ducky the old-school disposable camera I had bought on the way out at the last minute. Just then, Bill takes my left hand in his right one and entertwines the fingers! My brain is going "I know he does this with every woman, young and old, I know that this is HIS THING that he's famous for and it means nothing..." but at that moment, I couldn't convince myself that I wasn't the only woman in the room. That guy is good. I love him so much. So Jon takes the picture but the flash doesn't go off. I say "please can you take one more I'm sorry" and he does, but it still doesn't go off. I look down the line at Eric and make eye contact. He nods silently, acknowledging his vital role as future witness to Lindsay's Most Surreal Moment, and I say goodbye to the President and head back to the table, blushing and giggling and saying "He was sooo nice. He was wonderful."
Oh yeah, at some point in all that, in my starfucker haze, I actually said to Jon Cryer: "Are you...um...um...Ducky?" Yeah, I know. But for some reason, that's my very favorite part of the whole story.
I then snuck to the bathroom and called everyone I knew.
3. March 8, 2003: The Chelsea Hotel, NYC. Suite 603. My 26th birthday party.
I had a very very intimate and small and debaucherous birthday party at the Chelsea Hotel last March. It was so fucking cool. (If you are my friend and weren't invited, please note that it was very very small, and that this year I think I'm having it again and inviting everyone, now that I know how permissive the Chelsea is.) It was way fun. It lasted until 9 a.m. and people did it in the closet and I heard the ghost of Nancy Spungen (though it might have been the pipes creaking).
4. Halloween Night, 2003
I already wrote extensively about this on the site. Halloween in Boston, The Cignal as The Happy Mondays, The Information as The Cure, and me as Girl With Barely Any Clothes On Mumbling Something About Karen O. and Flashing Everyone.
5. May 30, 2003 - First day of Lindsayism.com.
Enough said, since it's, like, my life now. (at least I admit it!)
6. August 14, 2003 - THE BLACKOUT.
I have a friend who got on a plane that morning and missed the whole thing. I have friends who just stayed home and slept. Boy did they miss an amazing night. This is an excerpt from the thing I wrote about it:
Sarah and I would end up staying out until dawn, walking from bar to bar as each ran out of booze, and gathering a bit of an entourage of single-serving friends -- in this case, drunk guys whose faces we couldn't see who were trying fruitlessly for some Blackout action. All night, we heard people say this night was like September 11 with all of the closeness and none of the fear, that it was magical, exhilarating, an unexpected gift. What seemed at first like a crisis became the opportunity to break down the boundaries that separate people, to do silly crazy things because all of the usual rules were suspended, and for the love of god, to finally see the stars.
7. Shmushed Together - all those late nights and early mornings at the Cherry Tavern and Motor City and Union Pool and The Abbey and Enid's and Max Fish and Lit and The Model and 2 Guilford and various parties with my friends.
I may be an I-love-you-drunk of the worst kind, but I promise, I meant every word.
8. Late August: My friend Christy and I break down in Frisco, Colorado on our way from New York to Seattle.
We ended up staying in Frisco for 3 days, and having a blast with the colorful locals. Our adventures included tagging along on a midnight paintball battle, during which we feared for our safety as we hung out all night with two stoned morons who thought we were paintball narcs. There were actually several points when Christy and I exchanged alarmed looks - like when we realized it didn't matter that the guns were only paintball guns, it only mattered that we were scared of them. But, despite a moment when one of the morons pointed his paintball gun at my feet and said "dance" (seriously), it soon became clear that these guys had an almost insulting lack of interest in taking advantage of us. (Maybe it was my "weird 80's clothes.")
9. August 31: Radiohead in Seattle.
Great seats. The most fun I've had while completely sober.
10. June: The Polyphonic Spree at the Paradise in Allston, MA.
Ditto.
Okay, so I'm back, but things are weird. While I was helping The Information and friends trash their first hotel suite at their fantastic New Year's Eve party in Boston, my apartment in New York was burning up. Luckily, nobody was hurt and I have plenty of places to stay (thanks, friends!) but it might be a while before I can have this site in its rightful place again, since it was on my computer at home. (I don't think I'm the kind of homeless blogger
The Village Voice is going to write about, however.)
I'll post New Year's Eve pics soon.
Don't you hate it when a blogger begs for a job on their blog? Me too, but it's sort of getting to that point, so if anyone knows of anything, email me at lindsay@lindsayism.com. Like the other 6 million humans on this planet, I'd like a job that involves writing for a magazine, but I'll settle for less, oh yes I will. Help a homeless urchin out (I'm planning to play the "my house burned down" card for most of 2004.)
Stay tuned for my Top Ten Moments of 2003 list...
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