Sunday, January 19, 2003

But wait! This just in. After writing about the demise of TheSleaze I checked it and it's up again! But not with the same voluminous entries, and I'm wondering if it's even the same girl. Nice to know anyway, though...
I remember several years ago I used to religiously read this website called TheSleaze.com. It was a gossip site written by this chick who seemed to have this amazing ability to get backstage and get completely trashed and hook up with just about everyone you'd want to read salacious stories about. Anyway, I read it every week for like a year or two and then one day she just stopped posting. It was so upsetting- I *still* go back to that site and check. But no. Anyway, I always like to think there are a couple of people checking my site for signs of life.

Fluff is on the brain tonight as I just finished watching the Golden Globes. Who I love: Tony Shalhoub winning for his OCD-detective show that I think is hilarious but always worry will be cancelled because it doesn't seem like anyone else watches it. What I'm wondering: how has U2 managed to brainwash the entire world into thinking they are a great band? What I'm regretting: the 2,000 chips with guacamole consumed over the course of the evening. What I'm resenting: the fact that I have to work tomorrow when nobody else does.

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

Due to overwhelming demand (OK, one person) I'm gonna start writing this again despite the fact that anyone who did read it has probably stopped checking it as I never update it. We'll start off with today's burning issue: sweaters. Why the hell can't stores make nice soft comfortable sweaters not made of stuff that makes me sneeze? When did cotton become such an outlaw? Shivering in my three-quarter sleeves, I went out to purchase something big and fluffy at lunchtime - even arm warmers would have sufficed - and found only turtlenecks that felt like hairshirts, and cardigans made of bunny hair that made my eyes start watering when I came within a couple of feet of them. Hence, still freezing at 4. Bring back the uniform, I say. Bring back formal office wear. Minus the pantyhose rule. There's nothing worse than pantyhose. Except maybe the word "sandalfoot."

Saturday, November 16, 2002

OK, I've been shamefully neglecting the weblog, I admit... life circumstances have been such that I've been all busy to the point of not even having time to write anything here... but I'll be back soon! I swear I will. Keep checking. In the meantime, entertain yourself with this, unless you have loud speakers and are at a job where people don't like hearing swear words.

Monday, October 21, 2002

So I'm just back from a whirlwind trip to the 18th annual Chicago Pinball Expo under the guise of journalistic investigation (a great excuse to play endless games of Pinbot and Black Knight 2000 and hang out with a bunch of people who make you feel relatively un-obsessed - and, I might add, wildly untalented). Although I had resolved not to leave the confines of the Ramada O'Hare for the entire weekend, there was one brief trip out into the world, with a carful of World Champions, as we searched in vain for a Red Lobster (but settled for strip-mall Mexican). Sunday's tournament was fierce, with the grand prize (a pinball machine, natch) going to Lyman, the front-runner with the jockey-like stance, though I had been rooting for Paul, the unflappable underdog with the mullet. A weekend well spent- though now I have way too much material to write a little article, and not nearly enough to write a big one. More research is definitely necessary.

Friday, October 11, 2002

Dear rest of the world,
Just wanted to let you know, for the record, that there are really quite a few of us over here who can't fucking believe what our supposedly democratic president is up to these days. We tried really hard to keep him out of the White House, but he had connections. Now he's probably going to get a bunch of us killed even though most of us think the whole Iraq thing is bullshit. So we just wanted to make sure you knew that, before all this shit goes down. We had nothing to do with it.

(Now all I have to do is get major world leaders reading my blog. I mean, if they don't already.)

Monday, September 30, 2002

OK, I know I have been terribly bad about keeping up the blog. I've been all distracted lately, and was thinking of just putting Pineapple on hiatus, but then there are those random moments that bear retelling here, and it would be a shame if my own self-imposed hiatus made it impossible. So please just bear with me in my distractedness, and hopefully it will subside soon....

anyway, here's the thing that happened today: I got my pupils dilated to see if I had glaucoma (I don't) and then had to make my way down to Tribeca to have drinks before going to see an adorable young band at the Knitting Factory, and I stumbled out onto the street from the eye doctor looking like possessed Willow from "Buffy" with my eyes all black, and couldn't read anything, and put on my sunglasses even though it was 6 in the evening and it looked stupid, and the five-minute walk to the subway felt like quite an adventure, what with me trying not to walk into people and vampirically shrinking from bright lights, and the effect of the whole thing was that it really made me nostalgic for drugs. Is this as kicky as my adventures are going to get from now on? Dilated pupils in midtown? Good god, I hope not.


Monday, September 23, 2002

Talk about story intros that just write themselves....