Literary catfight
Recently, Laura Miller wrote a review of Chuck Palahniuk's latest novel Diary featured on Salon. Since then, in Salon's Letters to the Editor and in literary site such as Bookslut, many have contended that Miller's review was not only mean-spirited, but pure unadulterated snark perpetuated by someone without true literary insight. Now, the author himself weighs in.

And, the comment posted under Chuck's response... Isn't Palahniuk's work doing a service to those people, who otherwise may not have such a (relatively) positive outlet for their creative energies? She should be happy that they're reading at all, and frequenting her bookstore at that.

Heath Row, social capitalist and fellow NU alum and all-around cool guy at my internship alma mater Fast Company, chews over the latest from Northwestern's Magazine Publishing Project.

Sad News

Wesley Willis died yesterday.

And thus we were deprived of further fine lyrics such as, "Two by four, two by four, I'm gonna hit you with a two by four."

Rock over London, rock on Chicago.

See Spot Run
It's casual Friday at the office. But, instead of wearing jeans and sneakers, I'm wearing pressed wool slacks, a pressed shirt, heels and a belt--I'm going to dinner tonight, and I don't have time to run home and freshen up. That's why I felt it imperative to spill as many things on myself as possible: liquid makeup, Diet Coke, water, pencil markings, and strawberry ice cream bar, and last of which left a ghastly pink halo that really steals the show from the other stains.

Victor (laughing): Do you not know where your mouth is?
Me (throwing a tantrum while reaching into my shirt to remove ice cream crumbles from my chest and interior of shirt): Do you want some?

At this point I realized that my mentor, my boss, and the leader of our practice were sitting in direct sight of me in the dining hall.

It was also at this point, whilst laughing and pointing, that Victor suggested that I "get those wet-nap cloth thingies" to clean myself up. We head over to Walgreens, and make a beeline to the cleaning aisle... But not before Victor spotted an endcap display for an anti-fungal toenail treatment, the sight of which really hit the spot after having a rather large meal.

Victor (covering his mouth and turning away): That's revolting!

We're in the cleaning aisle at last. Victor pantomines dumping a bottle of OxyClean powder on me. I grab a box of Shout Wipes. After paying for them, we head to the car, where I start the process of putting myself back together.

Me (reading the directions on the packet): "Step One. Tear the packet along the--"
Victor (grabbing the packet from me and slapping his shirt with it): What the hell!! Do they really think people will do this without instructions?

I wet the stains with the wipe, and it seems to really do the job on the ice cream blotch. By this time, the other stains had time to set and weren't responding to being shouted out.

Me: This isn't so bad. At least the pink is gone.

As we pull back into the company parking lot, I look down at my shirt to check on the drying status. Some of the stains were gone, but in their place were rings--circles encompassing the stain locales that were two shades-off from my shirt color. The instructions on the packet, ah-ha, warned of this, but the remedy--wetting the area with another Shout wipe--didn't help.

Me (throwing a tantrum): FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!! I hate this! (turning to Victor) This is all your fault!
Victor (giving me a strange look): Maybe you should stay in the car before coming back in.
Me: Maybe I should buy a broach to cover this up.
Victor: It'd have to be a huge broach.
Me: I know! I'll find one of those breast cancer awareness pins. Maybe one of the AIDS ones, too.
Victor (upon entering the elevator to our offices): This is ridiculous! Everyone thinks I'm looking at your boobs.

Wildcat Willie speaks out

The saga continues...

Joele Thomas
xxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxx
Evanston, IL 60201


Subject: Refund Check for Security Deposit


Dear Joe,

It was a pleasure to have you for one year at the apartment. The following is the refund after deducting the expense of various tasks I need to have done at the Apartment:

Total Deposit                                    $775

Blinds Cleanup - 3 Sets of Blinds       $45
Shampoo Carpet                               $90

Balance of Deposit to be returned:   $640

If you have any questions pl. call me at 800-FUCK-YOU


Yours very truly,
ASSHOLE LANDLORD

What the hell.
Hit the snooze button one too many times and totally missed my a.m. caffeine cocktail. Shit. I've been stumbling around the office for the last hour like Gary Busey on the south side of a bender; I'm resisting the urge to wear sunglasses indoors. Now I'm looking at stuff like this and feeling guilty-slimey for being such a bourgeois materialistic dumbfuck, which is odd considering that I'm concurrently hoping the fine leather goods I ordered last week are delivered today.

Ugh. I need a drink...

New Boyfriend Tale II

Scene: We're on Cleo's boyfriend's boat, a relatively new toy that he's still learning about

Boyfriend: (appears from down below) I figured out a new trick with the toilet!
*concerned, confused stares*
Joel: (to his mother) I bet you haven't heard that since he was three years old.

Monday Mornin' Jolt
Hmmm.... You know, in all my years of psuedo-alcoholism, I never got the urge to amputate or otherwise sever... Ahem. Well. You get the idea.

But, those crazy Germans wouldn't have it any other way. Case in point: Some drunk dude, age 26, bit off his 50-year old girlfriend's nose. A judge sentenced the man to 18-months in prison, but claimed that the victim still loves her boyfriend. "He was just drunk," the judge said. Elsewhere in Germany, an intoxicated sex addict sliced off his own penis in an attempt to extinguish his urges. "The man called a friend around 8 o'clock to say he'd done something stupid," the police said in a report. Oy oy oy...

Thanks to Wired

You knew it was true...

Scientist calls gay people 'pinnacle of evolution'

Too bad his reasoning is absolute crap.

The Wrongest Thing I Have Ever Seen. Ever.

Is this.

New Boyfriend Tale I
Me: He mentioned that he's reorganized his priorities.
Victor: Hmmm.... That's good! (pause) You better up your intake of folic acid.
Me (puzzled): What are you talking about?
Victor: You KNOW! (pantomines large stomach) You better start eating for two! Don't want to deprive it!
Me (still not getting the point): I'm thoroughly confused.
Victor: The baby, silly!
Me (gasping): I feel sick now...

Recommended Reading
OK, so Jon and I are probably the only people here excited about this, but.... Chuck Palaniuk, author of such bitterly modern classics as Fight Club and Choke, recently published an arcane travel guide to his hometown (and my bygone homeland v2.5) titled Fugitives and Refugees: A Walk in Portland, Oregon. Palaniuk chews over the gritty side of the town, delivering details that other travel books don't touch: where to get a piece of ass, the sewer system, his introduction to LSD, and how to find the "most cracked of the crackpots." Ah, home!

What's new pussycat

To update those of you whom I haven't talked to in a while, my friends visiting me this past weekend brought two new things. The first is my kitty--my best friend Stephanie's parents are moving, and couldn't keep the cat anymore, so I adopted it. The poor kitty had to be driven from SC to DC, and then flown to Chicago. Her name is Socks--she's a "big-boned" tabby with a white belly and three white ankle socks and a tube sock (it'll make sense when you see her). She's still getting used to me in my apartment, but she seems to enjoy herself once I pull her out from under the bed. And I don't think I'm allergic--it was just poorly timed sinus issues.

The second thing is an earring. I had been considering one for a while, and so my friends didn't have to do much to convince me. It's in the upper part of my left ear. My only concern was that my boss would freak out, but this is what transpired during our Monday morning team meeting:

Boss: talking about some work I had done and looking right at me, turns her head and looks inquisitively Do you have an earring!?
Joel: Yes I do.
Boss: Is it permanent?
Joel: Well there's a hole.
Boss: Oh... well... very nice. It's very unlike you Joel.

Pictures of both to come...

Lastest worktime obsession: The Small World Experiment.

Memories

This reminds me just a liiiiiiittle too much of high school: Rise In Teen Sexual Activity Comes As Surprise To Area Teen.

Ode to Fatigue

I'm extremely tired.

All I want to do is sleep.

Unfortunately, I'm doing the exact opposite of what I want to do.

I'm looking at Excel spreadsheets.

This sucks.

That is all.

A Hypothetical

Say you're on a mean of public transportation late at night, e.g. the El. Say you see someone you find quite attractive and then spend the next 20-30 minutes doing the eye dance with said person, and you think they may be of the same sexuality as yourself. Then, when you go to exit said means of transportation, say this person makes an effort to exit shouder-to-shoulder with you. What would you do?

Right

The U.S. State Department says Hi to the Arab world, to the tune of $4 million a year (minus whatever advertising can bring in).

On another note, Blogger is the best procrastination tool ever.

Not For The Faint Of Stomach

Jack White broke his finger. The White Stripes subsequently had to cancel a tour. In order to mollify fans who didn't see how breaking a finger could lead to the postponement of an entire tour, this video was posted.

It is a rather graphic video of Jack getting two screws surgically inserted into his shattered finger.

On behalf of guitarists everywhere: OW.

You're Such A Wonder That I Think I'll Stay In Bed*

More Recall-bashing fun:

"California is behaving badly, like a disheveled celebrity gone off her meds. Broke and bipolar, babbling incoherently into an invisible phone; toothless and trespassing and asking for help. Orange jumpsuit; darkened roots. Dumped by both her agent and her publicist. The state is as obsessed as ever with fresh starts and extreme makeovers."

- Hank Steuver of the Washington Post, in a highly amusing article about the spiraling looniness.

*- ten points to anyone who can tell me what singer I'm quoting here

It seems like we're always one step ahead of the pop culture curve. That said, I'm excited to see the yet-to-be-completed documentary of Craigslist.

Another Reason To Vote Flynt

"On Tuesday, August 5th at 12:45pm, we have organized a special gathering to pray to God for Fox News Channel blowhard Bill O'Reilly's death. "

Ok, so a guy at work had some Harry Potter jellybeans, which have some really awful flavors. The buzz was about the sardines one, which I would have no problem with. However, the one I chose was VOMIT flavored. Most disgusting thing ever. It's like an entire bad night of drinking contained in a tiny piece of candy.

It's All a Lot of Oysters, but No Pearls

So there I am, eating an oyster po' boy sandwich at Dixie Kitchen, when I bit down on something hard. Assuming it to be a bit of oyster shell, I remove the offending object from my mouth (shut up Cleo). As I examined it, I discovered that it was not a bit of oyster shell, but a PEARL. I cleaned my treasure and placed it on my bread plate. I continued on with my lunch and conversation, completely forgetting about my precious until the bus girl took the plate away.

Lookie, No Touchie

So with Jay Leno scheduled for a make over by the Fab 5, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy popularity is approaching the tipping point.
Female Coworker (looking at photos of the Fab 5): Look at him! He's hot!
Me: Now now. You shouldn't covet the gay men.
Female Coworker: I can covet all I want! I just can't ... do anything with them!

ManSplash! (thanks to Casey Newton)

I don't know what the hell we were doing, but this is after the Cubs game and is most certainly us all saying "MANSPLASH!" (poor Sarah). See that leg behind Sarah and those extra arms--yeah, that's Victor.

The Book of Joel

"Wake up, you drunkards, and weep!
Wail, all you drinkers of wine;
wail because of the new wine,
for it has been snatched from your lips.

A nation has invaded my land,
powerful and without number;
it has the teeth of a lion,
the fangs of a lioness.

It has laid waste my vines
and ruined my fig trees.
It has stripped off their bark
and thrown it away,
leaving their branches white."
~Joel 1:5-7


On the sixth day, he hath
Gone to the place of the Bib N' Tucker
To cleanse his robes of his sins
And he hath seen the nation
Through the walls of glass.

He hath donned a garment of black
And walked from the road of Dempster to the road of Davis
In the Holy city of Ev,IL
And the nation clung to him like
Pimples on the face of a young man who pleasures himself.

And he proclaimed "YUCK!"
And he walked swiftly
Concealing his face,
Protecting himself from the scorn of the lake.
~Joel 2:1-3

Of Biblical proportions...
So there we were, Eliina and I. We were hoping to catch a little sun and a little fun on the lakefront, near the Belmont Harbor area of Chicago. Trot by the dog beach, watch people getting fit, ogle the males of the species. We walked from my apartment, past Wrigley Field, stopped by the 7-Eleven across the street to pickup Slurpees, then continued our journey to the water. As we crossed Halsted, we noticed some insects in the area. No big deal, really--just swatted and kept on our way. We got to Broadway, and it was like the sky opened up--a snowstorm of yucky, disgusting gnats. We pressed forward a few more blocks, and the infestation only got worse--we were covered with them, in our hair, our drinks, beneath our clothes. People all around us were swatting and running. Some jackass that passed by grinned at us. "Heh heh. Just don't open your mouth!" Oh thank you for the sage advice.

Eliina pointed at a cab stopped at the intersection, and we hopped in. As soon as we were out of the cloud, we opened the windows; we managed to bat enough of the bugs off of us, and now they were crawling all over the interior of the car. The cab driver, unfortunately, didn't seem to understand what we were doing: "The A/C is on! Close the window!" We tried to explain that we were being nice, trying to free his car of trillions of tiny, disgusting gnats. But he didn't seem to grasp the significance of our actions. "Close the windows!" OK....

I'm OK, just a little sleep-deprived

Hey folks, I survived the circus and went home with a little tummyache from all of the food and fun. The weekend managed to save everything.

T minus 82 hours and counting until my father-in-law arrives. All I have to do is paint the living room, build a bookshelf, put away books on said bookshelf, put away the last of our clothes, and clean the entire house. Because it is his father, my hubby (bless him, though he drives me crazy sometimes) isn't too worried about getting all of this done. I wish I wasn't so determined that it must be done. Ah, "meeting the folks" turns into "must impress the in-laws." It is a cycle that never gets resolved.

But on a more positive and uplifting note, in the midst of my day from hell (but, of course after I posted my blog) my best friend Blaire decided to relate that she had had a dream about me. In the dream, I had gotten pregnant just in time to wander down the aisle at her wedding with an extra 100 pounds. Of course, I did it just to spite her and ruin her perfect wedding because I was the fat, pregnant bridesmaid. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered me except for the fact that dreams when told to the participants tend to become reality, and this is a reality that I just don't need right now.

In general randomness, does anyone think it odd that Cherie Blair, Tony Blair's wife, has a dance hit in Europe? See Tony Blair's wife dancefloor hit for the details. Discuss.

The Day From Hell

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the death-defying, flabbergasting, tumultuous, infamous, flaming circle of hell. Please do not feed the vultures. Remember this is not for the faint at heart or young children.

In ring number 1, there is a beautiful book in pristine, perfect condition squashed by the incompetence of a nincompoop who can't provide correct files. Watch him squeeze the life out of it. Makes you want to scream, doesn't it? And it is only two days away from being due! And the indexer is going crazy.

In ring number 2, there is an amazing opportunity being sucked dry of its stellarness by the boombascity and pompasity of a man with no vision in the word. See how he squeezes all of the juice and ambition out of a young, eager heart. And don't forget his awe-inspiring propensity with which he cracks a whip. Waa-chaa! Waa-chaa! Oooh that stings!

In ring number 3, gaze in absolute horror as twenty thousand boxes run after a little girl and chase her all over the place, threatening her with packing tape and bubble wrap. You never thought the simple household items contained the infinite evil, but they do.

It's only noon and I feel I have already lost my soul. Don't worry I still have Mark's from two years ago. All I can say is thank goodness it's Friday!

In need of advice
A hypothetical: Should someone with a fabulous idea place her professional life on the line to see the idea through to fruition? The idea is big and bad. What if it fails? Then what?

Anyone going to Paris?

Could you PLEASE bring me back some of these postcards...