David Cross to open bar/club/performance space on Orchard Street in September.
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David Cross to open bar/club/performance space on Orchard Street in September.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 08:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
(Thanks, Alex Blagg!)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 07:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
UPDATE: Someone just sent me to Marissa's personal website, which is clearly set up spam-bot style by Scientology.
* Someone told me this was on Howard Stern the other day, but it's just too good not to share: who knew that inside every pregnant woman was a codependent muppet who wants to be named "Andy"?
Diary of an Unborn Child (from an old Christian LP, apparently.)
(listen until the end...I guess I'm heartless because it had me on the floor laughing.)
* When I was but a wee little blond bundle of fundamentalist self-righteousness, my favorite show was called "Fire By Nite." The only way to get it was to order the tapes from the Christian production company who made it. We didn't have a VCR, but my parents' best friends were missionaries who traveled from city to city in an RV with their two kids. We would often meet them in Georgia or NC for vacation. Anyway, they had all the Fire By Nite videos and I would beg to watch them over and over. It's basically a Christian Saturday Night Live, and as far as I can remember, the first "comedy" I ever saw. In middle school, I got in a fight over whether the characters in Miami Vice were named "Crocket and Tubbs" or "Sprocket and Stubbs" because that's what they were called in the Fire By Nite parody. I lost, of course.
Anyway, I just remembered it the other night and I bet it's really funny now. (What, did you expect a point?) Many of them have been re-released, but I'm too cheap. Will someone please put them online? Anyone? It would be a great, uh, um, ministry.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
"for all of you people reading this and think it is all a big joke and what not.
the offices of homeland security can track your internet addresses too.
if violence against horses isn't terrorism, i don't know what is. and you people reading this and giving these sickos attention is only contributing to the crime. so if you don't want to be charged as an accomplice you better just turn around and leave.
ever heard about what happens to people who "VISIT" child porn sites?
well this is exactly like that.
i have a cousin in the army. i know these things."
(I assumed Rachelle was a joke too, but this is her website so apparently not.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
UPDATE: I showed it to my friend Brian and he said "Is that Gideon Yago?"
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
I just went to the site to find out about upcoming shows (rage-a-hol, comin' up!) and learned that if you buy the DVD, 10% of your money goes to the uber-political Partnership for a Drug Free America.
They're part of the reason terminal patients can't "boot the gong". Not that I was really going to buy the DVD, but, you know, now I'm "boycotting" it.
Upcoming new episodes of Intervention:
Michael and Randi (#12).
Airs on Sunday, July 10 at 10:00pm ET
"A wealthy family is in crisis and desperate to help Michael, a rage addict with a long history of violent behavior who has punched 24 holes in the walls of his father's house in the past year. And a woman seeks help for her sister, a bulimic and crystal meth addict who was sexually abused as a child by her babysitter."
Michael and Brooks (#13).
Airs on Sunday, July 24 at 10:00pm ET
"A former top high school athlete gets hooked on pills and beer after suffering an emotionally devastating incident - he was not put into a big game against a rival school. And a mother fears for the life of her son, a former wrestling star who turned to drugs after an accident left him wheelchair-bound."
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* Every since the NY Post instituted registration, their system has refused to let me register, saying that I have an invalid email address. Some nice person started a Page Six Blog . So that's that.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 03:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
This man should be jailed for inappropriately touching a stage.
Wheeeee! I'm destroying American families!
It's too bad Fuzzy is trademarked. I was thinking of spinning his character off into an innovative line of HOLY SHIT HAMSTERDANCE IS BACK!?
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
6 A.M.: By the time dawn breaks I've already done my isometrics; when you do this job, you've got to be limber. I don my sheer catsuit (flexible yet easily-concealing) and start the early morning shift. I am Lindsay Robertson, cyber-stalker, and I've got the January 1992 issue of Tiger Beat's worth of celebrities I'll be tracking today.
6:30 A.M.: I leave the stately confines of the Blogger Building (tm) and rush to my first "viewing appointment." It's an easy one: Moby at TeaNY. He's beating the staff, as he usually is at this time of the morning. Nothing interesting here.
7 A.M.: Greenwich Village, near the park: Janeane Garofalo, kissing the sores of homeless people. I'd take a picture, but how many of those do you need?
8 A.M.: Hover unnoticed in the background as Kathy Lee Gifford's nanny drops Cody off at school. Some people say that the children of celebrities should be off-limits: Those people are deeply wrong, and I'll be posting their photos and addresses in this space very shortly.
9:30 A.M.: I head down to the Gawker Media offices in TriBeCa, where I score a major photo coup: Jesse Oxfeld massaging the shoulders of A.J. Daulerio. I whip out my Whisper 2000 and pray for scandal: "The odds are 4-2 that you'll switch teams for me" Jesse murmurs. Score!
6 P.M.: Back at the Blogger Building (tm), boiling a celebrity's bunny (you know exactly what you did, Mike O'Malley of TV's "Yes, Dear") when I get a tip that Dustin Diamond and Elizabeth Berkley are doing body shots at Welcome to the Johnson's. I hop into the Lindsmobile (okay, my roommate's bike) and rush across Rivington. Sadly, it's just some curly-haired fratboy and a blonde with a bad dye job. Since I'm out anyway, I figure I'll continue my stalking of the guy who played drums on the first Guns 'n' Roses record. Check all the usual alleys, but no dice. I head home to take a cybernap before the evening rush begins.
7 P.M.: Source informs me that the entire cast of "Celebrity Charades" is hanging out at The Blarney Stone in midtown. Pass. Even I don't stoop that low.
MIDNIGHT: Heard a rumor that Full House's Dave Coulier is getting a blow job from The Washingtonienne's Jessica Cutler at a screening of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I slide down the aisle on my stomach, training my night-vision-equipped telephoto lens on his open zipper, but it's too late, he's seen me. "Cut it out!" he yells, knocking Jessica Cutler off his dick and standing up. "Do I still get my money?" Jessica whines as I race out of the theater, hop on my bike, and head back downtown. I have a whole night of blogging ahead of me. By 3 A.M., the thousands of New Yorkers who read my site will know the intimate comings and goings of people whose names sort of ring a bell in a blast-from-the-past kind of way.
I am Lindsay Robertson, cyber-stalker, and I will not be ignored.
(Thanks to Hamish Robertson for the animated .gif)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 12:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
1. Nobody is expected to fall in love with anyone else.
2. The show is about men and women being friends and working together as a team.
3. The people on it, no matter how dumb or nerdy, are all really human and likable.
NOW, the only way my opinion of this show will stand the test of time is if they REVERSE THE ROLES and have geeky girls team up with dumb pretty boys. Wouldn't that be AWESOME? But sadly it will never happen. I'm still pissed that Average Jane was never made.
Also, has anyone noticed that the show's uber geek, Richard, is at all times doing a pretty dead-on Woody Allen impression, and that if you pretend you're watching a Woody Allen movie from the 70's or 80's instead of a reality show in the '00s, everything he says or does seems hilarious even though it seems lame to the other characters and to the watcher at first glance? Seriously, try it. I think he might be a comic genius performance artist, if that's not an oxymoron.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 08:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
I am going to this on Saturday. It looks awesome AND my pal, internet favorite Catherine will be selling her adorable wares at table 56.
UPDATE: The girls from The Polka Dot Life will be there too, at table 78.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
(Note: at this point if asked which team Chauncey Billups (CHAUNCEY BILLUPS!) is on, I would have to google it.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 03:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
It is Monday and I just got back from camp after six weeks. My hope for this summer was that it would be a very growing summer for me.
It's been much more than that.
I came across many new experiences this summer. One, in particular, was my first kiss, the circumstances of which, while far from ideal, at least provided a learning opportunity. I learned that you can't have an intimate experience with a man* (and this can be considered just that), and expect everything to be the same afterward as it was before. I did. I was wrong. I learned. I'm okay. (smiley)
Another learning experience I had was with a girl in my cabin named Julia _____. She was convinced that my sole pleasure in life was to make her feel bad about herself. I'm not the kind of person who usually has that effect on people. As I thought about it, I realized that the desire was not in me to build Julia up, therefore I did not. My usually edifying nature was cancelled out by her nature, whatever it was, and that caused constant tension between us. She constantly made remarks about my intelligence, such as "Lindsay's so smart, let her tell you!" and "We all know you're smart, Lindsay, you don't have to constantly have to prove it to us" and "You make me feel so stupid, just stop!"
I felt very bad about this**, about being labelled as different, about being accused, that I ignored Julia as much as possible - but she was the kind of person who thirsted for attention like we thirst for water. And being ignored, even by me, was more than she could stand.
So we worked things out. Well, I guess you could say we put a patch over our friendship - a patch only thick enough to last until we left camp. And it pretty much worked.
- Yet another lesson of life -
* I don't even call them "men" now!
** Lie.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Remember when Janeane Garofalo was the very definition of a cool girl? Well apparently she's been drafted over to the Sex and the City/Chick Lit side, never to be seen again. WTF?
(via new New Yorker Hello Angel)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* At least the title of the blog appears to be correct. (And the entire blogosphere lets out a collective groan of embarrassment.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Also, I took an informal survey:
Do you think Katie Holmes has ever crapped at Tom Cruise's house?
Yes 2%
No 97%
"I don't get it" 1%
My friend knows this girl who had to have surgery because she wouldn't go at her boyfriend's house and she almost died. Hopefully Katie won't suffer the same fate. Have a nice weekend!
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
(Yes, that is what we all think about when we think of the 60's...All Along the Watchtower plays in the background with a montage of soldiers in a jungle, flower children in the mud at Woodstock, and a teenage boy shitting on a pizza...)
In a way, I think it's sort of cool. Totally repulsive and disgusting and horrible and worthy of a month's grounding, but sort of cool that girls in general are going through some sort of parallel adolescence. (I mean, it's cool until 2050 when one of them date rapes my grandson or something.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 04:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Watch an entire episode of the new Comedy Central show, Stella, online.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* Das Home on Friday Night, Again.
* Translation: I am Crazy Frog's retarded cousin. Play with this ball while I puree your spine.
*Tour guide for visitors, blah blah blah. I need an ETA on bukkake.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
One of the most daring and hilarious shows on TV, Reno 911! is coming back for a third season starting tonight. Last month, I joined my co-workers on the set of Reno in Los Angeles to get video footage for the site. I think we're all really proud of what we came back with. The actors are all total improv geniuses and made our jobs easy (particularly mine, as the writer - the funny is all them, all off-the-cuff. I always believed in the saying "As stupid as an actor" until this!) Here's what we have up, so far:
* Reno Sheriff's Department Recruitment Video
* Interview with Deputy Clementine Johnson (Wendi McLendon-Covey)
* Interview with Deputy S. Jones (Cedric Yarbrough)
Season Three of Reno 911! premieres tonight at 10, and it deserves to be as big as Chappelle so be sure to watch! (Sorry for the gratuitous plugging, but I just really love this show!)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 02:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* I was recently told "You're the reason other people can't have nice things." (if this site had a spot for a tagline, I think that would be it.)
* Someone like Chuck Klosterman or someone should write something about how every band has to have their own font.(Coldplay, White Stripes, Killers, Strokes, etc)
* Here's the Highdea that won the Diesel U-Music tickets, from Tim in Rochester. I have no idea what it actually means but it made me laugh:
"I suppose my best Highdea ever was concocted with a bunch of nerds (including myself). In realizing x raised to the 3rd over x raised to the 2nd equals x, we could have all our currency labeled as really large fractions that aren't conducive to simple arithmetic but actually equal the original denomination. When the United States deals with nations that might not even have base ten counting, the chance is there that many errors in computation could work well in our favor. We could get goods free.
The only problem is, normal economic dealings use high-powered supercomputers and economic analysts to make sure that the money is banked correctly. Therefore this would only be useable in an industry that uses cash during its main form of transaction. This would cause the calculations to to be solely going on in someone's head, not in a computer.
Since the drug market is a black market and relies on these cash transactions, it could be easy for American dealers to play on the poor math skills of foreign drug cartels. Of course, the American dealers would have to be good at math, so a bunch of math and econ majors like ourselves would be perfect for the job.
So basically we just tried to figure out a way to get free pot."
(Math nerds who steal money from a drug cartel. Total screenplay, right there.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
But I won't.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 07:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
"...the band took complete command of the house during "Somebody Told Me." Fans provided backup vocals as Flowers sang "I had a girlfriend, who had a boyfriend, who looked like the girl I was dating back in February" "
Uhhh, thanks for, um, summarizing, but those lyrics (to a hit single that's been around for months) aren't even remotely close (like I even have to link to them - everyone knows those lyrics.) Does Rupert Murdoch not let you guys use search engines, or are you just counting on nobody reading show reviews anywhere but on blogs anymore?
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 12:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* White Castle is auctioning the "butler" from their commercial for some reason.
* Paul Rudd did a cameo in an Ed Helms correspondent piece on The Daily Show last night: check this site for the exact second the clip goes online today. IT's AWESOME.
UPDATE: Okay, I lied, there are summer hours today and I'm not staying here just for this, but it should be here soon.
* I hate to link to this site because it's part of a hit-generating contest, but I think that no matter how pure of heart or innocent of spirit, every man, woman and child of every age, race, creed, nationality or sexual orientation who sees this interview and these pictures will automatically have one word pop into his or her head, and that word is:
"Toolhunting."
I'm not trying to be mean...but am I wrong?
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 01:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
* My dear friend Darci Ratliff, editrix of Kittenpants and close personal friend of every comedian in the universe, is moving to Seattle in a month to open her own store called "Pants" and start Kittenpants as a quarterly print magazine. Here's something I wrote for Kittenpants a long-ass time ago (it was also in Haypenny, I linked to that version about a month ago) called "If My Mom Wrote a Sex Advice Column" (Yes, it's written under a pseudonym, yes, the pseudonym is dumb and dated, yes, that picture of me is terrible, yes, I sound 14 in my "bio", but I am sacrificing my personal dignity here because Kittenpants needs hits for future advertising purposes and I'll do anything for my friends, okay? And here, you're like 100% guaranteed to view at least 2 pages now just to see that terrible picture. Darce, you owe me a drink.)
* So I've never done a real contest here, for really no reason at all besides laziness, but what the hell: Who wants to go to the Diesel-U-Music award ceremony at the Roxy next Thursday night (June 9) and win a CD sampler, stickers, and a lighter? If the answer is "me!" meaning "you", just send me your BEST HIGHDEA with the subject line "Highdea" and tell me if I can use your name and/or link to your site. The best Highdea wins, even if it's from someone I know, because you know what? I think it would be sort of presumptuous of me to think of this website as something commercial enough to have rules and regulations. (But that said, someone I know will win only if their highdea is really the best.)
Information on the event:
"Diesel-U-Music started in the UK in 2001 as a competition and platform for unsigned DJs, bands and producers. Unlike other talent contests, Diesel-U-Music does not seek to make pop starts out of its winners. They are not looking for the next Britney or Justin."
But here's the most important information about the event:
It's open bar.
Good luck, and go read this interview with Mr. Show's Brian Posehn on Kittenpants.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 08:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
When me and my ex boyfriend broke up last year, I didn't listen to his music for a few weeks and he passive-aggressively "lost" my high school yearbooks in a move. When Renee Zellweger and Jack White broke up a couple months ago Renee married a real country singer and Jack apparently married the most ugly-pretty model since Lauren Hutton. As fast as they possibly could. My point: famous people are fucking crazy.
(I think it's incredibly cool that Laura ModernAge sort of "broke" this story, if it turns out to be for real.)
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 07:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
When Tampax first approached me and Bob and asked us to design tampons as only bloggers truly can, we thought "No way, Tampax dudes, we have integrity, we won't sell out" but then they told us that we could earn 100 tampons to give out to our readers, and, well, what with the price of cotton going through the roof, we had to oblige. So we designed tampons, and you can too!
Our designs (by the way, I'm aware of how much mine sucks)
This is what Tampax gave us:
This is Bob's, called "Seacrest Out":

And this is mine, which is meant to invoke the essence of a Williamsburg loft party, or something:
If you want to use the template and design your own tampon, send it to Bob at myblogispoop.gmail.com. Depending on how flaky we end up being (and the flake index is at an all-time high lately), maybe they'll end up here.
Posted by Lindsay Robertson at 06:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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