Recap: Sea Hag Loves New York (Episode 1)

See how I told you a few days ago that I would try to do a weekly recap of 'I Love New York 2'? Seriously, it's down there, right below this post. See it? OK. Told you so.

I guess I should explain this show first to the uninitiated. OK, a few years ago there was a reality show called 'The Surreal Life' which had washed-up and B-list actors, singers, models, porn stars, athletes and whoever else just finished their 15 minutes of fame competing for... money? A house? Candy? I don't remember, but it's not important. The whole show was just watching people with disproportionately huge egos learn about life and love. (Not really, all they did was bitch at each other and it was funny.) Anyway, one season they had Flavor Flav of Public Enemy and Brigette Nielson who was in some '80s movies (and is Sylvester Stalone's ex-wife), as two of the contestants. They wound up getting into some sort of... oh, let's call it a relationship, and they got their own spin-off show called 'Strange Love' which I've never seen but I'm sure was full of good times and noodle salad.

Anyway, their relationship didn't work out so VH1 had Flav do a show called 'Flavor of Love' which was a dating show where 20 women competed against each other to date Flavor Flav. The final two contestants were a girl called Hoopz and also New York, who had made a name for herself by being the biggest, nuttier-than-a-Claxton-fruitcake bitch possible. New York lost, but Flavor Flav wound up doing a second 'Flavor of Love' show and somehow New York got put back in the mix... where she made it to the final two contestants... where she lost yet again. So they gave her her own show called 'I Love New York' where her final two guys were a punk-ass named Chance and much more mature Tango (who was also known as Ninja Turtle). She chose Tango, who promptly dumped her ass at the reunion show. Which brings us to 'I Love New York 2', a spin-off of a spin-off of a spin-off. Also, this time around, the 'twist' with the contestants was that five of them were chosen online by fans (and by 'fans' I mean it was totally rigged). Then New York's mom Sister Patterson (a.k.a. Darth Vader) brought five of her own guys in the mix, and the other ten were picked from auditions. And know you know... the rest of the back story. Good day!

Anyway, as with any reality show, the first episode or two isn't great because there are too many people involved and you haven't established favorites yet. I could go and detail what happened but it would be hella boring. Basically all the guys showed up at the mansion and they got their nicknames and they had a party and New York kicked five off the show at the end. The highlights of Episode One were:

Oh my God boobs!

1. New York's boobs

New York was wearing an outfit that was an unholy love child of a ice skater's outfit and a stripper costume, with the resulting effect of her huge fake tits gushing out of the top. Seriously, she needs to have those puppies registered as some sort of weapon because she was about to smother everyone in a 2-mile radius with her mighty cleavage.

2. Midget Mac

Yeah, they got a midget to be a contestant. When they've finished ringing out the entertainment value from him I hope they give him his own show because he actually stared down Sister Patterson instead of being scared of her like everyone else is. That would be tight. New York at one point wondered if he had "magical leprechaun powers."

3. Tailor Made

This was one of Sister Patterson's guys, and he was such a slimy douchebag that I shall refer to him evermore as The Doosh. New York said he "looked like a crooked bookie." The teaser for next week shows another guy slamming his head into a wall so hard his skull bounces. Score!

Behold and fear the glory that is The Entertainer's lumpy head. Fear it!

4. The Entertainer

Unfortunately, all of the guys who were 'voted' onto the show by the fans were really weird and ugly and a bunch of them got the boot in the first show. The Entertainer, who got to stay because he was the top fan choice, had a lumpy knot thing on his forehead and was pegged as a freak by Sister Patterson.

Things I'm Embarrassed To Like: VH1 Reality Shows

A few nights ago I caught the final episode of the 'Rock Of Love' reality show with Bret Michaels (of Poison) settling on mellow Jes over party-girl Heather. It wasn't a bad show, really, I watched the last half of the series and was reasonably entertained, but in comparison to the other VH1 reality shows 'Flavor or Love' and 'I Love New York', it was pretty weak.

I think most of the reason why it wasn't as good as the other ones was because Bret Michaels isn't a total character like Flavor Flav or New York (a.k.a. Tiffany Pollard). Back in the day I'm sure that Bret could've made for some totally wild-ass partying drama, but now he's a diabetic semi-washed-up rocker and, based on his choosing the much-quieter Jes over Stripper Barbie Heather, I'm guessing he knows his partying days are behind him and he wants someone who isn't going to need to bailed out of jail for indecent exposure and public drunkenness. Don't get me wrong, I actually thought Heather would have been a good choice for him because she... well... has a few miles on her, to put it mildly, and she had his named tattooed on her neck, but Jes has awesome Jem and the Holograms hair which would have made her my top choice too. Bret did seem like a cool cat, except he had the habit of mentioning that he wrote 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn' like every single episode. It is a great song, possibly the best rock ballad to come out of the 80's, but dude, get over it, it was like 20 years ago. Live in the now! Plus, watching people who are cool and laid-back trying to date other people who are cool and laid-back is pretty boring after a while. I can watch the same kind of drama amongst my co-workers and there's not nearly as many commercials involved.

See what I mean? How could Jes not be picked, she is truly truly truly outrageous!


Now 'Flavor of Love', that's where it's at. Flavor Flav may be pushing 50 and so partied out that he looks like a leathery stick of beef jerky with gold teeth, but damn it if he isn't fun to watch. I mean, he wears a viking helmet and punctuates his serious discussions with "word" (which has since made into the Sea Hag lexicon). He has a giant metal dinosaur on his front lawn that wears a clock around its neck. It's a hot mess; what's not to like? I also think they did a better job of casting Flav's shows (and the 'I Love New York' spinoffs) with people who could generate controversy and drama without making it seem as staged as I'm sure it really is. I mean, both 'Flavor Of Love' shows had New York in them, and she was so infamous that they gave her two shows of her own. She was emotional and a total bitch, cunning and manipulative, but I have to respect someone who knows she's a complete hose beast and refuses to change for anyone. The only real 'troublemaker' in 'Rock Of Love' was Lacey, and she was a bitch too, but she just came off as a psychotic tattletale and lacked the fine scoundrel's heart New York has.

Fortunately for me the next season of 'I Love New York 2' starts Monday and it will be a radical empire to all which is radical. I am going to attempt to do an ongoing blog entry after each episode but we'll see how that goes.

I Hate Everyone: People In Commercials

So I was over on The Slate a few weeks ago reading the Ad Report Card and the guy who normally writes it is going on some sabbatical bullshit and I'm all upset about it because I have a total crush on him. I mean, he's such a funny, smart-ass writer that I'd totally sit on his face and I don't even know what the guy looks like, so that's how awesome he is.

Anyway, his parting article was a short collection of ads people hate. It was OK, but it made me think of the time in my high school English class my junior year when my teacher announced that she wished that she could put The Wolfman and Donna (two local people who sold furniture and did totally lame commercials for it) into a box and fly them into the center of the sun. So in honor of Mrs. Federovich and Seth Stevenson, I compiled my own list of People in Commercials Who I Wish I Could Put In A Box And Fly Into The Center Of The Sun:


1. The couple from the Sonic commercials

Sweet grape cream slush, if this is what marriage is like I'd rather try to beat myself to death with a New Balance sneaker. These ads show a couple who are sitting in the Sonic drive-in enjoying whatever the frosty drink special of the month is while they barely contain their contempt for each other. The wife is a stuck-up bitch and the husband is a total asstard, and therein lies the hilarity, I guess. I mean, the woman married the guy, how did she not realize the guy was an immature idiot? And what does she have to bitch about anyway, the guy takes her to Sonic all the time! How can anyone be pissy at a Sonic drive-thru? This one time they gave away FREE root beer floats! A girl who has this big tray of condiments walks around to all the cars and asks if you want more ketchup! There are few things more awesome than that.



2. The chorus from the Rondo commercials

First of all, Kias are just one step up from a roller skate. Second of all, 'Rondoism' is a totally stupid made-up word. Third, the people are singing around San Francisco and everyone knows that they only drive Toyota Priuses there. But most importantly, these people need to be destroyed because they're so damn loud: LET THE SUN SHINE IN! LEEEET THE SUN SHINE IN! THE SUUUUUN SHINE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!

3. The 'Messin' With Sasquatch' guys

The theme of these commercials seems to be that if you eat Jack Links Beef Jerky you are a complete dickhead. And yes I know that Big Foot isn't real and it's just a guy in a suit that they're pulling pranks on, but it's comes across as being really mean-spirited and douche-y.



4. The guys dressed up like Whoppers on the Burger King commercials

First of all, these commercials are just plain stupid, and the latest one shows the Dad Whopper busting in on a Chicken Sandwich kid making out with his daughter, and he can't get through the bedroom door to kick the Chicken Sandwich kid's buns (heh). Um, why isn't his daughter a Burger King food product? And how did he get into the front door but not the bedroom door? Why did he buy a house that he couldn't fit through the doors anyway?



5. The Berries & Creme Starburst guy

This guy is just... so, so wrong. So very creepy. I get 'The Uh-oh Feeling' every time I see this commercial. Plus his irises have no color, so that's proof that he's the undead.

The Way I See It #265

A few days ago I was worshipping at the Cathedral of St. Arbucks when I noticed the following quotation on the side of my Cinnamon Dolce Latte:

Wild animals often do a much better job of caring for their offspring than we civilized and educated humans do. If we cannot keep children safe in their homes, how can we hope to make ourselves safe in the world?

-- Lee Grogg, Executive director of Ryther Child Center, an agency providing safe places and opportunities for children.

I never bothered reading Starbucks' version of Successories on my coffee cup because it's usually hidden under the cardboard sleeve, but a for the last few weeks I've been having worse-than-normal insomnia and on this particular day I had been up for nearly 38 hours so things were… a little weird. I mean, colors were a little brighter and I was hearing things before they actually made a sound. I was one with the infinite void, man, and on this day my coffee cup was talking to me and telling me to read the wit and wisdom of Lee Grogg. And so I did, and when I read it I knew that it was something that must be laughed and mocked mercilessly, but alas I was not in the state of mind to do so at the time, but before I stepped back into the swirling purple cosmos that unites us all- seriously, dude- I saved the cup.

Now, I am sure that this Ryther Child Center does a lot of good work and helps a lot of children out, but are they crazy? For most animal species, 'caring for their offspring' consists of them laying eggs in a warm hole in the ground and taking off. Most birds and mammals do raise their young but very often they will eat their young, or they shun the runts and let them starve, or they will purposely kill off a twin because they can't produce enough food to feed more than one baby.

So please, people, for the sake of the children, let's start a campaign to buy a TV and cable TV for The Ryther Center so that they can watch Animal Planet and stop saying such goofy-ass things to the coffee-drinking world.

Goodbye Robert Jordan

I was 18 when 'The Wheel of Time' came into my life.

I was a freshman in college then, and I was hanging around the famous (or infamous, depending on how well you know him) Hyperion, and he bought me a copy of the first book of Robert Jordan's 'The Wheel of Time' series, 'The Eye of the World', and demanded that I read it. (And if you do know Hyperion, demanded is a nice way of saying it.) I seem to recall that he also bought me a stuffed moose as a bribe to read this book.

This is the copy that Hyperion gave to me 11 years ago. It's seen better days.

I dragged my feet on reading it for about a month or so. It was a fantasy novel, which I typically didn't read, and a serial fantasy novel, which only the hopelessly dorky and eternally un-laid liked. But it seemed important to him (and he was bugging me about it day and night) so one day when I was doing my laundry at school I sat on top of a washing machine to guard my clothes from being thrown on the floor and started to read.

It started off with a typical fantasy beginning: a gawky teenager named Rand al'Thor going about his life, unaware that he's probably going to be a hero later on. Other main characters are introduced. Rand and his father are sitting at home minding their business several pages later, and as the spin cycle kicked in I wondered why it was that Hyperion was forcing me to read this boring shit... then the Trollocs knocked on Rand's door, changing his life and mine as well.

From that point on, I've been a fan of the series. I finished the first book the next day and inhaled the rest of the novels in the following months. I stayed up all night before my Chem I final to finish the fourth book, which had an ending that was so incredible that I cried. In the past few years my initial enthusiasm for the series cooled a bit, but I'd be one of the first to pick up the newest book when it came out and I had recommended it often to friends and family.

I guess it was only fitting that Hyperion was the one who first told me that Robert Jordan had passed away Sunday. The greatest sadness here lies in the fact that he never completed the series, and that all the side projects and other stories he had planned on doing would never come to light. But Jordan left behind a wonderful legacy in the Sea Hag universe, and that is the knowledge that the gift of a good book is a rare and precious thing. Since Hyperion bought me my own copy of 'The Eye of the World' (which has been read so many times it's falling apart and has to be held together by rubber bands) I have, in turn, shared or bought copies for my stepfather, my wasband, several friends, co-workers, and many ex-boyfriends, who, in turn, have gone on to suggest it to others. Jordan left behind a body of work that is awe-inspiring not in just sheer volume and scope, but in the way that people love the characters and the story so much that they feel compelled to share it with others.

But most of all, these books helped me forge a deep friendship with Hyperion that has lasted nearly 14 years, and it's the one topic we can always come back to and discuss no matter how much time or how many miles have been between us. And I think that's a great thing to leave behind.

Sandwich of the Gods

I happened to have a ripe tomato, slime-free lettuce, non-green bacon and unfuzzy bread on hand today so I made myself a BLT, and it was probably the best thing I've put in my mouth lately. So good, in fact, that I chose not only to blog about it, but to take a picture of it too.

More Dragon*Con goodness

This was the best costume I saw at Dragon*Con: Wonder Twin Jayna and her brother Zan, who had already transformed into a bucket of ice.

Don't blame him, he voted for the Brain Slug Party.

Very excellent 'Shaun Of The Dead' guys. It makes me wonder if they wanted to dress up like them because they already looked like them, or if they wanted to dress up like them at it was just luck that they looked like them anyway. Wait, did any of that make sense?

Cookie Monster and Franklin. Cookie Monster told me that he found his costume on eBay. I never got a chance to ask him why he was wearing a toga as well. But then, it might be better that I didn't know. Less therapy bills, you know?

Franklin and a dude whose badge name was The Gnome. He invited me to do a kilt check on him, which I somehow graciously managed to decline with the faint taste of barf in my mouth. Even more oddly, Jonathan had seen this guy before at IHOP.

Here's Jonathan being surrounded by more ladies. They just couldn't get enough of him.

Here's me being clever and rebellious. Take that, The Man!

I have no idea what this guy in the big yellow and red costume is supposed to be, but Jonathan knew and totally geeked out about him so I took a picture.

Lego dude! This was also a very excellent costume.

Sea Hag does Dragon*Con

I went to Dragon*Con on Friday, which is a huge nerd-stravaganza that's held every year in Atlanta, so of course my happy ass is all over that like a rat on a Cheeto. This year was my eighth (I think) time going, and much to my delight Noochie said he'd go with me. Just for the record,The Nooch is in no way interested in anything remotely nerdy, geeky, dweeby or dorky so this was pretty awesome of him. He was like a pilgrim in an unholy land. An unholy land full of girls dressed like fairies, goth kids, Trekkie fans, and sweaty men in 5x t-shirts whose only exposure to the female breast has been of the two-dimensional anime variety. Noochie is the bravest guy I know.

So we got there about 11 a.m. and to my surprise there were about nine million fellow nerds in line to get their credentials. I mean, most nerds don't get up until way after the crack of noon so I was pretty amazed that so many had showed up so early.

NERDS! I totally dug the dude with the Jayne costume on the right... and if you don't know who Jayne is, shame on you.

This is a little baby nerd dressed like Jango Fett we saw while we were waiting in line. Awwww!

Of course, it didn't surprise me that it took a little under two hours to get through the line, because Dragon*Con is a bit... well, I wouldn't say badly run, but it definitely has a bit of a chaotic element to it. I think this is because it's such a huge convention and that it relies almost completely on volunteers to do just about everything. Most of the reason it took us so long was because you had to fill out this form with your name and address and all that on it, then you paid one person, then you stood in a second line so that someone could put all your information in a computer, then you stood in a third line to get your badge printed up. Um... if anyone from Dragon*Con wants a suggestion, why don't you guys type that information into your computers after the con is over? I'll volunteer myself to do it. Anyway, it was all good, because it was totally worth it to hear the girl yell out "Sea Hag!" when my badge was printed.

Anyway, we went exploring after that, and we went to the Walk of Fame, which is where the celebrities hang out, and I met Gil Gerard of disco-fabulous Buck Rogers fame. He was a nice guy! I told him about watching Buck Rogers during my bout with boogers, and we talked about 'Amelie' for a bit too. Most celebrities that show up for cons are either very cool and have a good time meeting their fans, or they act like total asshats, which is a shame.

Franklin got to meet Gil Gerard too, and he thought he was a total class act.

After that, we went to one of the dealer's floors, where they sell all things great and nerdy. Noochie got some awesome movie posters. I walked by a table and saw stuff for the Owly comics. Now... I'm going to admit that last year I met Andy Runton, who draws Owly, and I had a total fangirl moment. I mean, was just a total tool and giggled and blushed and was in general a complete moron. Much to my relief, he wasn't there for me to embarrass myself again, but his nice girlfriend was, and she pointed out some of the super-cute stuff they had for sale, one of the items being the MOST AWESOME HAT EVER which looked like owl ears and had a little Wormy on the head too. If you go look at the comic you'll understand why this is so friggin' rad and why I had to buy one and wear it right then. Of course, after I bought it, Andy Runton came up and wanted a picture with me and my new hat, and I'm proud to say I didn't get all stupid on him again.

You can't look at this and not tell me that this isn't the best hat you've ever seen. I mean, it's so awesome that I put a picture of myself on my blog just so you could see it. I'm here with Andy Runton, the creator of Owly and a super-duper nice (and tall) guy. Go buy his stuff!

Shortly after the Awesome Hat Experience, Noochie had to go do some Noochie stuff, so I hung out with my friends John, Missy, and their friend Dean for a little bit then met my friend Jonathan for some beer in the bar at the Hyatt. Fun was had! Beer was drank! There were some Jägermeister girls there and we got all sorts of free stuff from them. There were also some Michael Collins girls there (apparently it's some kind of whiskey. Who the hell does shots of whiskey at a hotel bar?) and some Miller Lite girls too, who were...well, let's just say that out of all the Liquor Chicks, they were definitely the 'light beers' of the bunch.

Jonathan and the Jäger Girls. Jonathan had chicks all over him all night long, even with me sitting there inadvertently cock-blocking, because that's just how totally sexy he is. He's single, ladies!

After much beer, we wandered the con and saw crazy people and sat through a viewing of the 'musical' episode of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and I somehow wound up getting free parking in Atlanta, which is a miracle in and of itself.

Tomorrow: More con pics!

Cinnabon canned coffee = meh

When I saw the 4-can bricks of Cinnabon premium coffee drink at the Super H Mart, I just about pooped myself. I mean, does everything that Cinnabon makes taste awesome? And am I a total slut for coffee? I think we all know the answers to those questions. So I bought the Caramel Nut Latte and the Cinnamon Vanilla Latte flavors and went home to have my taste buds be awash in Cinnabon coffee goodness.

I think I might have set my expectations too high for this drink, because I thought they both tasted like Yoo-Hoo. Now, I love me some Yoo-Hoo (especially the strawberry one) but I really wanted it to at least pretend to taste a little like coffee, not super-sweet chocolate-ish water. Plus those little fuckers were expensive so that was a bummer too. It would have cheaper to just get a truckload of Yoo-Hoo.

In the end it's probably not Cinnabon's fault this tasted kinda crappy. I think coffee is just one of those things that tastes filthy in from can, like beer, spinach, and mushrooms.

Sea Hag vs. The Boogers

Well, Sea Hag fans, it looks like I might be victorious over the Phlegm Monster... for now. And during my sickness I learned a few things:

1. Double shot of codeine-laced cough syrup + 2 Tylenol PM + 2 glasses of Kahlua and milk = 4 hours of sweet, merciful sleep.

2. Humidifiers are the greatest invention known to man.

3. Soup, grapes, Oreos, hot tea and a sandwich all arranged on an awesome red school lunch tray go a long way towards making me feel better.

4. Don't share your cough medicine with codeine unless you are really, really, really sure you don't want it anymore.

5. Next time I have something this awful I will be sure to lick more people I don't like.

Drugs, drugs everywhere

... and they're all IN ME.

Darling Sea Hag readers, I would like to point out that it is 6:31 a.m. and my happy ass is still awake. Now, I'm notorious for having pretty bad insomnia, but I haven't slept but about 4 hours in the last 50. OK, I've been known to stay up even later than that on occasion (all the time) but I am currently battling some stupid-shit bronchial infection so I need to sleep VERY BADLY. So, naturally, I can't.

Yay for drugs! I noticed that after I took this picture I was inadvertently giving a thumbs-up to Michael's DJ gear as well, but in the end I decided that I was killing two rad birds with one stone. Or thumb. Whatever.

Let me give you a little slice of history how this all came to be. When I woke up on the morning (well, afternoon) of my birthday, I had a sore throat, so that was just a big, sweet steaming pile of motherfuck. But let me state for the record that not only was Friday my birthday AND I was sick, I didn't call in to work (you can send Martyr Dollars to Sea Hag, P.O. Box 369, Walla Walla, Washington, 90028). But what started out as a sore throat turned into a raging phlegm monster that finally made me to go to the doctor yesterday.

So while at the doctor's office, after forgetting about me for an hour, they had me smoke some peace pipe thing and then they gave me a shot of sting-y medicine in my ass. They also gave me prescriptions for three other medications to take at home.

Let me just state for the record that out of the five medications I ingested today ON TOP OF the gallons of hot tea, orange juice, Tylenol, and Robitussin I took, not one damn thing has worked at all. I'm still coughing about every 45 seconds, which I'm sure would be keeping Michael up if he hadn't been up all last night with me watching 'Buck Rogers in the 25th Century'.

The cough medicine I'm taking has codeine in it, which had previously been a good friend of mine but is totally disappointing me. It should at least be making me drowsy if not making me think I can walk through walls and hear dead people. I think the problem is that the other two medications I'm on are some kind of steroids since I can't take NSAIDs, and both of them have promised to give me a jittery meth-like jolt according to their patient information cards, so I'm pretty much totally dicked (and not in the good way... although, if they keep me on steroids I might be able to dick myself soon). But at this point I'm so desperate for sleep that I popped two Tylenol PM (on top of the Rozerem I took 5 hours ago), adverse drug interactions be damned.

So please, down-stairs neighbors, if you hear a loud thud in about an hour, call 911. I'll try not to soil myself if I have a stroke.

Douchebag pleads guilty

So, Michael Vick decided to plead guilty to federal dogfighting conspiracy charges earlier today, and so the question now is what will become of his career? I was reading this article on Yahoo! News and saw this quote in it from Green Bay general manager Ron Wolf:

"If he [Vick] pays his debt to society, why shouldn't he get another chance?" asked Wolf. "Maybe I don't understand something in all of this, but you're supposed to get a second chance in this country."

In a perfect world with unicorns and candy rainbows and elves who make cookies in hollow trees, yeah, the dude should be given a second chance. But in reality? I don't see it happening. First, the 'second chance' this guy is talking about is the chance for ex-cons to come out of prison and go be productive members in society, not return to star positions on a professional football team and make millions of dollars.

But what about all the other guys in the NFL who are ex-cons? They all got a second chance! Wolf goes on to say:

We've had a lot of people in this league do a lot of bad things, and they still got a chance," Wolf said. "Leonard Little killed someone (while drunk driving). Jamal Lewis went to prison (in connection to) selling drugs. Are you telling me that killing eight dogs is worse than killing a human being? … Yes, this is bad, but are you really telling me that he doesn't deserve a chance to play again when other people have committed crimes and come back?"

Ah, but what did the two examples that he mentioned have in common? That's right, drugs and alcohol. We are a society that is willing to forgive anyone after they stand up and say "I have a problem with drugs" or I have a problem with alcohol" or "I have a problem with Internet porn" or whatever. We cut addicts a lot of slack because in our society we understand that to have an addiction is to have an incurable disease, and even if they fake like they have a problem we still tend to go along with it. You can be addicted to gambling, but I don't think anyone would buy that you were addicted to slaughtering dogs and being a total douchebag.

But I think the biggest reason that Vick will probably never make a comeback is that we are a society of dog lovers. Just turn on Animal Planet for a day and you can tell by the number of times they play shows about animal cops or vets. We have entire stores dedicated to the upkeep and pampering of dogs. We might be a society that forgives someone with a substance abuse problem, but I doubt anyone will forgive Vick for the wholesale torture and killing of dogs. And people who can't forgive are people who won't buy tickets. And if you can't get people to buy tickets to a football game, you can't expect that any team is going to want to hire you after you're done paying your debt to society.

Go Sea Hag, it's your birthday!

Yes, people... it's my birthday. And you, too, should party like it's my birthday.

I'm the big 2-9 this year, which means that I have exactly ONE year to pull all the stupid shit that you just can't get away with in your 30s. Yes, I know your 30s are the new 20s (whatever the fuck that means) but have you ever seen a 36-year-old woman coming out of Forever 21 in the mall wearing a tight little tank top that is short enough to see her navel piercing? And didn't you just roll your eyes a little? Now do you know what I mean?

Anyway, this is the year to get another tattoo and another piercing. This is the year I blow a lot of money on shit I don't need and not give a damn about my credit score. This is the year to take a bunch of stupid road trips for no other reason than to see the World's Biggest Paper Bag. This is the year I paint my fingernails black all the time and possibly dye my hair a stupid color. This is the year to drink too much and eat lots of candy and not get enough sleep. This is the last year I will wonder if I should just quit my job and go backpacking around Europe to 'find myself'. This is the year that I blow off work as much as possible to go to concerts, because Flying Spaghetti Monster knows that next year I will probably worry about damaging my hearing. Next year I will probably become one of those tools who wears earplugs to a show.

I know some of you who are older than I am are already having a good chuckle about my impending sense of doom about my 30s, but let me just say this: I have become one of those people who always has a pullover or jacket in my car just in case it gets chilly. Even at the height of a Georgia summer when it's 104 degrees outside, I have a hoodie in my car because I get cold in movie theaters and restaurants sometimes. I have become my great-grandmother and I'm still in my 20s.

I need some beer.

Mmm... sacrelicious (or, WWJTL?)

In my previous entry about how I'm a whore for candy and if I ruled the world there would be Christmas-themed Skittles, darling reader Dragon wondered just what would a Jesus Skittle taste like?

If Jesus tasted like a sandwich, he'd definitely have three kinds of cheese and bacon and lots of spicy brown mustard.

My initial thought was that Jesus would taste like cinnamon rolls hot from the oven. I have absolutely no idea why I thought that. But if the Son of God had a flavor, would there be anything better than hot, fresh, ooey-gooey cinnamon rolls?

Or maybe I thought that because of the strong connection Jesus has to baked goods. He did claim that he was the bread of life (John 6:35) and he multiplied loaves of bread to feed 5000 people (John 6:11-12). There's also his strong predilection to appear to people on bready items such as tortillas and grilled cheese sandwiches. So maybe Jesus would taste like a nice loaf of sourdough.

Jesus' association to bread is also symbolic one, as bread is a staple of many diets, so then should Jesus be as important in your daily existence (or so Christians would believe.) But then, bread being central to a diet is a cultural thing too. There are many people in the world who don't consume bread daily, but consider other types of food as being the basis of their meals. If you consider this, then in Asia Jesus could taste like a bowl of rice, or in Central Africa, could taste like fufu.

Going back to John 6:11-12, Jesus might have created the first Filet-O-Fish by handing out fish as well as bread to the hungry. There is also a strong Jesus - fish connection in Christianity, as Jesus is sometimes referred to as a fisherman or a 'fisher of men' (Matthew 4:18-20). Even if you've never heard of John 6:11-12 or the fisherman allusion, you've no doubt seen those metal Jesus fish things (also known as an ichthys) on people's cars. So maybe Jesus would taste like a nice, cool piece of salmon sashimi or a can of Chicken of the Sea (dolphin safe, of course).

Of course, one religion's main purposes is to provide solace to people (or as Karl Marx said, be the opium of the people) so that people who do have faith might think that Jesus could taste like their favorite comfort food: macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, chicken noodle soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Cap'n Crunch, grandma's meat loa f, whatever. Since Jesus is also responsible for most of our major holidays, you might associate his potential flavor with a delicious spiral-cut Honeybaked Ham, Marshmallow Peeps , hollow chocolate bunnies, fruitcake, candy canes and sugar cookies. The flip side to all of that would be the people who have been victimized by organized religion, who could think that Jesus would taste like tears, dust, blood, bitterness, or pimento cheese (one of the most disgusting food items known to man).

Fuckin' rad lolcat illustration by Michael, who thinks that Jesus would taste like a nice pinot noir.

There's always the literal answer to What Would Jesus Taste Like, of course. Having never taken a bite of Our Saviour (or any other person), I would have to guess that Jesus could taste like chicken, though honestly I think that humans would taste more like pork chops. If you believe in transubstantiation and communion rites, then you might think that Jesus literally tastes like communion wafers and wine.

In the end, I guess What Would Jesus Taste Like would come down to your personal experiences, much like religion itself. So what do you think Jesus would taste like? Would he be delicious? Sweet? Savory? Nougat-filled? Covered with rainbow sprinkles? Leave some comments!

From the diaries of Dr. Sea Hag, Archaeologist:

10 August 2007

I was conducting an archaeological dig of the refrigerator section of the Kitchen last night when I came across an unknown substance lurking on the bottom shelf. Indeed, I was intrigued by the multi-globed, vivid green mass that was contained in a clear, plastic-like container. After careful examination, I discovered that there was a word printed on the 'bag', identifying its contents as GRAPES.


We may never uncover the great mystery that is the GRAPE.

What are these GRAPES? In my many years of studies I have come across - yes, and lustily consumed - several foodstuffs that had been categorized as being "grape-flavoured", but these round, luscious clusters in no way resembled the violet-hued candies and syrups I have known previously from various Skittles bags and grape-creme slushies from Sonic... the GRAPES were secured in a "crisper drawer" for safe keeping until I could research this marvelous find.


11 August 2007

Spent an exhausting day studying the great GRAPE find from yesterday. I came across an ancient text in the early hours of the morning that has helped us understand this unusual object:

A grape is a fruit that grows on the vines of the family Viteace. Grapes grow in clusters of 6 to 300, and can be black, blue, golden, green, purple, red, pink, brown, peach or white. They can be eaten raw or used for making jam, grape juice, jelly, wine, and grape seed oil.

FRUIT! I had heard about these once, many years ago during my studies at Choate. My sophomore roommate, a Miss Nora Whytten-Bosworth, claimed that her svelte figure could be attributed to her enthusiastic consumption of these 'fruits' as well as multiple plates of something she called 'salad'. I had previously believed these terms were coded jargon that she employed to cover the unsavory extra-curricular activities she conducted on her knees or during the mornings when she woke up in a puddle of her own sick in the water closet.


12 August 2007

After much deliberation with the faculty of the university, I have ordered a few of my students to consume a GRAPE while I observed them. All of them seemed to have a most unfavourable reaction to this news, leading me to believe that the GRAPES were most unsatisfactory to the taste buds and, in fact, caused the consumer a great deal of outward hostility and uncontrollable vulgar language. Such comments I observed were:

• What an idiot
• What a fucking idiot
• What a motherfucking idiot
• I am too hung over for this shit right now
• This class is such a waste of time

My exploration of the GRAPE is just beginning! This is an exciting time for me.

I'm a candy whore

So, I'm a total whore for candy and on the suggestion of Diablo Cody I wanted to try the new Carnival Skittles. I got to try a few when I went with most of the Hyperion Nation to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and since then I have craved more. I finally found a Kroger that was selling them and bought myself a giant-ass bag.

Limited Edition Carnival Skittles = nom nom nom.

Last night I was munching on my Carnival Skittles and telling Noochie how much I was digging on the red licorice flavored ones. See, if there is one candy I would totally abandon all vestiges of dignity for, it'd be Twizzlers, so I was totally happy that the good people at the Skittles company made a Skittle that tasted so much like Twizzlers. Noochie ignored my near-orgasmic ramblings about Twizzler Skittles, but was intrigued by the fact that Skittles decided to make a bag of candy based on a theme instead of a collection of flavors (like Sour Skittles, Smoothie Skittles, Wild Berry Skittles, etc.), Noochie and I wondered what theme they might come up with next:

Baseball Skittles: beer, nacho cheese, popcorn, Cracker Jack, hot dogs, peanuts. (They could also market Baseball Skittles to Cubs fans with an additional flavor called bitter disappointment. Ooooh burn!)

Crack Whore Skittles: crack rock, sperm, Dumpster juice, motel tap water, desperation.

Carnivàle Skittles: dust, bearded woman, lobster gal, Knights Templar, evil (which would taste like green peppers), good (which would taste like chocolate Twizzlers).

Christmas Skittles: Christmas tree, sugar cookie, Jesus, spiked egg nog, new socks, credit card bills, bitter disappointment (again).

Hippie Skittles: hemp, dreadlocks, organic arugula, patchouli, tofu.

We should work for the Skittles company, clearly.

To the person who stole Michael's car:

First of all, we found his car today, so fuck you very much. Second of all, if I see anyone even looking at his car funny I will cut you because I am not afraid to go back to jail. So you'd better pray that I never find you.

Look at this pitiful little face! How could you do this to him, you heartless beast?

Also, next time you need to get back to your crack house in Lilburn just ask for a ride, asshole.

Best. Picture. Ever.

International ______ Day!

I'm involved with International ______ Day this month, and I got to pick today's theme! Go read it and love me! LOVE!!!!

I still have issues

In glancing at my blog entry from a few days ago (yeah, all those site hits? Like 1900 of them are mine), I realized that my list of Food Network People I'd Bang wouldn't be any good without a list of people from Food Network I wouldn't sleep with to serve as a basis for comparison. So here it is:

Food Network People I Wouldn't Bang With a Loaner Pussy

5. Giada De Laurentiis

Or, as I call her, Lollipop Head. Actually, she's not that bad, her recipes have been pretty decent and her show is pretty good, but what put her on the list is that she is one of those people who has had a charmed life and you just want to punch her in her big planetoid head. Oh, you're the granddaughter of a big movie producer and you grew up in a rich family! Oh, your family wanted you to be an actress but you turned it down to go to culinary school in Paris! Now you work on TV and get to travel the world and rub it in everyone's face on 'Giada's Weekend Getaways'! Oh, and you turned out to be pretty on top of all that! Actually, she might be good for a grudge-fuck, come to think of it.

4. Duff Goldman

Just because his chin looks like it got a Brazilian wax and his show is just a 30-minute long commercial for his bakery. I would, however, totally get it on with the redheaded secretary.

3. Sandra Lee

Besides her unhealthy obsession with canned cake frosting and vodka-based mixed drinks, this woman is the poster child for meth. Seriously, she doesn't blink! And every show she does her outfit matches the set. Every. Little. Detail. Matches. Her earrings, the napkin holders, everything! I mean, who has time to go out and buy all this shit and obsess over every tiny thing? Someone smoking meth, that's who! If she's not on crank, I think she's the undead.

2. Gail Gand

Oh, there's nothing much wrong with her in the looks department, and I'm not entirely sure why I think this, but she just seems be someone who is really kinda clingy and needy. Like someone who would call you seven times and send you thirteen e-mails the day after you slept with her. Also, her show is boring and her recipes are too tedious and difficult. Sorry, I don't have 3 hours to make decorative sugar floss for the chocolate cake that took me 2 days to bake. I'm all about the Betty Crocker, baby, and that's why our love could never work. It's not you... it's me.

1. Michael Chiarello

If you looked up 'douchebag' in the dictionary, you'd come up with this guy. Seriously, he's such an asshole that on New Year's Eve Ryan Adams blogged about how stuck-up he was. He's one of those guys who owns a winery and acts as though you're the biggest piece of crap ever if you aren't currently investing all of your time and money into growing your own vintage in your backyard. The show is basically him making fussy, yuppie food for endless dinner parties. I'm sorry, but I've never been to someone's house for a 'dinner party' before. I'm not going to force a friend of mine to cook for a group of picky-ass eaters and then get stuck with a pile of dishes and crappy leftovers that no one wants. No, we go out to eat at a crappy chain restaurant like Applebee's, damn it! We willingly pay $12 for pasta that is one step up from Top Ramen because we're Americans and that's how we roll! He also did a show where he cooked for a bunch of kids and he made some crazy-ass lasagna and grilled chicken things. The kids all looked like they were about to cry. I don't have kids but I know enough that no kid wants to try any new food ever. Just make hot dogs and fries, man! Michael Chiarello, you can take your Fennel Spice Chips and your heirloom tomatoes and cram them your up your Pilates-sculpted butt.

I have issues

My name is Sea Hag, and I have an addiction.

It's hard for me to talk about this, you know, but understanding I have a problem is the first step towards recovery, and I am so ready to get on the road to independence from this crippling disease.

My addiction has robbed me of time with my family and loved ones. My addiction has caused me to ignore my household duties. My addiction is the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep at night.

My name is Sea Hag, and I am addicted to Food Network.

I love Food Network. LOVE it. When I wake up in the morning on my days off, I turn on the TV and, oh look, there's Paula Deen making pork chops! It's like she's saying "Good morning! Let's start the day off right with some grease and butter!" And yes, it is a glorious morning when I can wake up to some soft-core food porn on 'Everyday Italian' or roll my eyes at the lameness of 'Iron Chef America'. And when I go to bed at night, I leave the TV on so that Alton Brown can nerd me off to sleep.

Because I spend so much of my conscious day watching Food Network, I tend to think about it non-stop, and I have taken an unhealthy interest in who is hot on Food Network. So after thousands of hours viewing, I have come up with the list of...

Food Network People I'd Bang:

Honorable Mention: Jamie Oliver

He'd rank higher if I'd seen him around lately and if he didn't spit when he talked. But that dry English charm is delectable. I had a friend who had a Jamie Oliver crotch-shot poster and it was so rad.

5. Rachael Ray

You either love her or you hate her. Honestly, she's about right where Emeril Lagasse was five years ago as far as Celebrity Exposure Overload goes (Emeril had a sitcom once, for God's sake!) and she's perky to the point of nausea sometimes, but she's just so damn cute I can't help but like her... and that ass! Her ass is so bodacious, sweet Jesus. I get all moisty every time I see her in the Dunkin Donuts commercials, because I imagine her eating strawberry-frosted pastry and getting even more curvy and juicy.

4. Jamie and Bobby Deen

Oh, to be the warm, pink meat in a Deen Brothers sandwich. By the way, I've actually met Jamie Deen in person and he was so, so hot. He's got beautiful blue eyes. And in my one shining moment to be able to impress him and become Paula Deen's daughter-in-law, I said "Hi. Heh. Um....hehmmmhuh." Next time, I'll just take off my shirt and let my boobs do the talking.

3. Nigella Lawson

She's beautiful and decadent and naughty and has that kick-ass, sultry accent. She has a recipe for boiled eggs on foodnetwork.com where she mentions prostitutes. If you've ever seen her eat a roast chicken with her fingers you'd think that you were watching free porn. It would be a considered a crime against humanity if I didn't include her on a list that had to do with sex. I'd sit on her face any time.

2. Tyler Florence

He's Food Network's pretty boy, and even though he's put on like 15 pounds in the last few years, he's still totally fuckable. I really liked him in 'Food 911' and in 'Tyler's Ultimate' and I've made a few of his recipes that have been really good. But what kept him out of the top spot that he's a shameless corporate shill for Applebee's. I'm not saying that it's bad to be a whore for a restaurant or product, but Applebee's? Blah! They are to wacky-farm-implements-on-the-wall chains what Arby's is to fast-food restaurants. Chili's is much better. Hell, Outback Steakhouse is better! Major points were lost for lack of taste.

1. George Duran

In an unprecedented upset over favorite Tyler Florence, George Duran comes in first as Food Network Person I'd Most Love To Bang. He used to have a show called 'Ham on the Street' that was pretty damn funny, and he's got the little chubby-cheek Latino thing going that I just love. The first time I saw him I said "he will be mine - oh yes, he will be mine." I just want to put a little saddle on him and ride him all around. Mmmm mmm.

Sea Hag PSA

For your information, the tan M&Ms were replaced by blue M&Ms in 1995. In other news, my brain apparently went missing for nearly 12 years.

Here is what I would look like if I were an M&M:

Random thoughts for today

The smell of mothballs might be the worst smell in the world. One of the best smells is the smell of rain falling on hot pavement.

I wonder how many times I've had sex in my life. Why doesn't someone make a sex odometer? If you had a foot fetish, would it be a sex pedometer instead?

Sandwiches always taste better when someone else makes them.

I don't think about my toes that much. I feel kinda bad about that.

I like making ptoo! ptoo! laser noises. It makes me crazy happy.

When did tan stop being a color in a bag of plain M&Ms?

Yes I am still here

And so it was that The Flying Spaghetti Monster looked upon my computer, and saw that the motherboard was bad, and touched it with His Noodly Appendage. And lo, it did melt and cause me to curse and cry and not be able to post to my blog.

Well, I thought it was a good excuse.

While it's true that the magical unicorn or whatever mystical creature that makes the damn thing died, I have been pretty non-existent in the Sea Hag Universe lately. Call it boredom. Call it sheer laziness. Call it exhaustion and mild depression. Any way you slice it (mmm, slice) I have been neglecting my blog and all writing in general lately. When I started this blog I didn't want to post on here for the sake of posting. God knows teh intertetz is full of wastes of space as it is and I didn't want to add my trash onto the pile. But I realized that I hadn't made a single post in over a month and that I really did have things to say and people to curse and hate, so I needed to drag my sorry ass out of hibernation and get back to it again, broken computer be damned.