On my list of things I don't do anymore...

is maintain this blog. BUT I have taken to creating random Tumblrs.

Like this: http://mannekenhog.tumblr.com/

Perhaps I will come back some day, but for now, I'm too busy actually living my life then spending hours divulging my innermost wierdness here.

I do miss you folks though. Maybe one day, when I'm drunk and feeling alone I'll reach out to y'all and write a post. But we all know how that will end.

Farewell.

For now.

Sort of.

Hamptons 3 - Me 0.

This year's Hamptons trip was supposed to be a relaxing weekend full of cocktails and convos...and, for the most part, 'twas.

BUT, when it comes to me and the east end of LI, there will always be a very big BUT. So OK! magazine had Jessica Simpson on part of its cover last week. Apparently she went out with Ken Paves and got a little drunky and the photos were hilarious. She also cried.

Upon seeing this, I jokingly said "That sounds like Saturday." Now, I've on occasion had my clarvoyent moments, but really, this one could have predicted itself. Yes, I cried at the Drift. I wasn't really sad, nor were there any valid reasons for the tears but they would. not. stop. coming. out. of. my. eyes.

So when said crying started, I did what I do best, found a corner and hid until said crying epi passed over. DM (who is now DF cuz she got hitched) pulled out the best bandage ever to help me through. It was a magical elixir that made all of the wet drops go away. Oh yes, it was vodka and it was delish.

Anywho, it was the first time in a long time that I have gotten beer tears and lets hope its a while before they come back. Because when they start, my friends, they won't finish until they have left all of my dignity in a puddle on the floor.

And just a note: when you try and battle the Drift, the Drift will ALWAYS win.

Back In Business

After a year of being a poor freelancer, I have accepted a really cool job at a really cool company. My rule is I don't write about work, but I'm super excited to get off of my bed and back in an office. Plus a steady paycheck won't hurt! Yay!

Hellllooooooooooo Pelotas!

According to Google Analytics, I've gotten 11 visits from Pelotas, Brazil recently. It seems Pelotas is on the southern tip of the country, but what would I know since I've never ever been there.

Who are you? Are you one person? Or multiple people? Ha, I kid. I know you are only one person who must be really bored at work and stumbled upon this here stupid/mind-numbing/narcissistic endeavor. I'm just curious.

Besides my fan in Pelotas, I have a teeny tiny following in New York (I'm guessing this consists of Gingervision, B-Girl, Mrs. Krabbypatty and Spanish) and a few folks who end up here and leave after one second. I guess they don't like my cartoon persona. Well excuse you then, because I think cartoon Jonesy is precious. And lovely. Precious and lovely.

Anywho, I am interested in hearing from you, person from Pelotas. Please leave a comment and get in touch!

Yea, yea. I know.

It's been forever since I posted. Sorry kiddos, been busy and journeyed off to Costa Rica with a friend for a week. It was interesting to say the least.

I figured my July 4th was a little more interesting and in light of Michael Jackson's demise, I will share this moment of Jonesy goodness with you.

So I went to a party at my friend LB's apartment. She lives in a SICK apartment with tons of space and a roof deck for fireworks viewing. Anywho, I decided that it would be smart to drink an entire bottle (ok, I admit, it was in a box) of sangria before 10 pm. Whoops.

So the party was fun and it got all fuzzy and stuff and my signature 4-drink slur came out, which is again, whoops.

I journeyed home and happened upon my new neighbors who moved in down the hall. They are lovely gay men who invited me and the roomies to a housewarming (which I didn't attend). They must have threatened me with a good time, because the next thing you know, I was partying down at Therapy, which is probably the most fun gay bar ever.

And besides, don't threaten me with a good time because I'll go crazy on you like that chick from Rock of Love.

And did I. Yes I did. Oh how I danced. As if angels were shooting from my jazz hands and my feet were made of jumping beans, I boogied my way around the dance floor to lord only knows what. Okay fine, I was skip jumping to "Ease on Down the Road" as if I were Diana Ross and a young, alive Michael Jackson rolled into one twenty-something wasted off sangria white chick.

Now, I left with the neighbors and came home, and they went back out (I did not). Although I did drink more wine from a box.

And that my friends, is how I celebrated the birth of our nation. God Bless the U.S.A.

In which I contemplate the career of one Ms. Julia Stiles...

since I've ranted on how much I hate Julia Stiles. Since I caught a few moments of the piece of dogshit they call a movie "The Prince & Me" this weekend, I thought it might be appropriate to revisit to the topic of how much she sucks and why she has a career.

I don't know anyone who likes her or her acting. Did she sleep her way to the top? I don't think so because she is pretty fugs. Or maybe she, er, um, does things most women won't do (anal). That has to be it.

Or maybe she is like Harriet the Spy and has tons of dirt on Hollywood execs and blackmailed them into a career. That would make sense too.

Since she kind of looks 45, maybe she posed as a therapist to Hollywood honchos for a few years and then said she would expose them if they didn't cast her as a teenager who looks 40.

Or maybe she won a contest where the prize was a lifetime of starring roles.

Or maybe she found a magic lamp with a genie voiced by Robin Williams inside.

Or maybe she is good at science and made a magic potion to get people to think she is a good actress.

Or maybe...


I mean the posibilities are endless because it's impossible to explain how saomeone who sucks so hard can be famous.

B-Girl Has A Blog.

Read her blog. It is funny.


http://thedeefunkera.tumblr.com/page/3


Fin.

Although this will ALWAYS be my favorite petite bebe.

This little boy is brills.

The Onion Takes on Trekkies

Trekkies Bash New Star Trek Film As 'Fun, Watchable'

PS This movie was really awesome.

Computers will use us for food someday.

LOVE!

This is what I do with my time.

Quizzes Girls Games

What? Uh-Huh. Sorry.

Saturday night DM got herself hitched. She looked gorg, the party was awesome. Needless to say, weddings are a fantastic opportunity to get absolutely shit-faced without embarassment because really, unless you're the bride, nobody gives a shit.

SOOOO, well, I may have possibly run my mouth off a bit and said something at (I say at because I wasn't saying it to the person's face--mind you it's the person I suspect of this ) somebody. If I did say something, I'm not totally sure what it was, but I'm betting if it actually surfaced, it wasn't my most classy of moments.

OR...since my memory is heavily impaired...this all happened in my head and I kept my mouth shut like I had planned. But knowing my track record, I most slurred with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth and looked really stupid. So I guess I lose. Oh well, I'm sure if I blabbed, I meant every word. So in the end, I feel about as sorry as Gilly from SNL.

My Favorite Meme

Back in 2001, I was just a week study abroad living in London. I've written about my time there before but one particular thing I learned while actually studying (yes, I did attend classes and do school work) was that the internet is full of amazing, wonderful things that will make you pidoodle your pants.

While hanging in the computer lab one night, (I believe a handful of us were working on our papers about the Black Plague for our History of London class) one of my friends, I'll call her B-Girl for all blogging purposes because she is from Bristol, CT and she likes the hip hop, asked me if I'd ever seen the mullet boy.

Now at this time, we were all obsessed with mullets and mullet culture and made a Where's Waldo tupe game out of spotting them all over the place in Europe. I had not seen the mullet boy on the internet. Cue a quick Google search and she introduced me to Michael Blount, the mullet boy and creator of the "Hello My Future Girlfriend" web site. It has since been taken down, but mirrors of it are still all over the web. You can see one here.

As you can see, it is both hilarious and haunting. We were left wanting to know more about this young mullet boy who lives in New Mexico. His coke bottle glasses called to us in the night. His mullet visited us in dreams. We wanted to PM him on Yahoo chat.

We would recite his little speech over and over. And no, it never got old.

Flash forward to April 2009. I was bored. It was late. I wanted to find the page to send out in email to make everyone remember and pidoodle themselves again. What I found was even better.

It turns out mullet boy (AKA Michael Blount) has a new website. In his "History" section, he describes the aftermath of creating the page and how he was basically harrassed for years to come. Sad but true. He also links to his MySpace page which for all purposes seems really normal. He still lives in New Mexico and now he's a grown man.

Like most people, I was wondering if little Mikey mullet had ever found his "future girlfriend" and if she did indeed, like what he sounded like. The answer is no.

Because my friends, all along, Mikey the mullet boy was really looking for his future boyfriend. That's right. According to his MySpace, the kid is into dudes. The line that made him famous is a lie. And a huge lie packed with irony.

I love the internet.

CITIZEN'S ARREST!

If anyone sees Adam Lambert from American Idol, please knock him out. He is atrocious and awful. Yes, he can sing. But his general appearance is a crime against my eyes. HATE HATE HATE!

March Effing Madness

BLARUGHGYIHSKJ. That's how my body feels after the severe abuse it has been taking this month. Why does March always drive me to 1) Drink insane amounts of booze and 2) Eat really bad-for-you food?

Well, I think it's partially because St. Patrick's Day has gone from being an Irish Day that happens once every mid-March to a month long drinking marathon with stops in Hoboken, Manhattan, and Westchester (although I sat this one out this year) along the way. I think this is great and all but the older you get, the less you can hang, which kind of becomes evident as the younger kids rage through the night, and I start throwing elbows at the pizza counter at 9 pm to get some carbs in mah belly.

Also, between New Years and March 1, everybody hides. People only go out in their neighborhoods or short car rides away because going out with a coat in general is just fucking annoying, let alone layering up with a thick sweater that you just end up stripping off when you get hammered. Fuck winter...spring = warm weather = booze which is < boozing outside.

Plus, after the holidays and spending money on winter vacays, people are poor, so everybody I know starts bartending in March. Which kills me because the folks I know make drinks like moonshine. Hence, I end up falling out of my elevator onto my hallway floor. I woke up the next day as looked like, as Mrs. Krabbypatty put it so eloquently, someone "Chris Browned" me. Too soon? Nah.

Then you have your NCAA tournament drinking which really, is just an excuse to get bombed during the week. Last year, I went out to an E. Village bar and ended up getting hammered while trying to pick up guys during a Duke game. Turns out they don;t really like to talk when the game is on. Whoops! This year, I created a bracket based on the names of the schools, and I'm hoping that I can strike a bond at the bar this way. Anyone know the closest Oklahoma-centric bar? (I picked them to win by accident).

Lastly, the end of this month marks the very death of my poor, innocent liver. Since DM is getting married next month, a bunch of us gals are heading to Newport, RI, for her bachelorette party. While this might seem normal to most, let me explain. After DM's shower a bunch of us went out and stayed out. Until 4 AM. People asked us if we were the bachelorette party. Kids, you ain't seen nothing yet. I wouldn't be surprised if someone ends up A) Seriously injured B) Pregnant or C) coming face to face with the entirety of their stomach contents. Let's hope none of those are me!!

Overall, March is month of drinking and being a degenerate. Which is what I seem to do best. I mean, c'mon, it may hurt, but it hurts sooooooo good.

Do I need Tough Love?

So Vh1 is pimping its new show called Tough Love. In short, some douchey dating guru takes a batch of classless ladies and teaches them how to snag a man who will want them for more than one night. The commercials speak common sense to me, so I assume the show will follow suit and the only reason to watch is to laugh at these sad little disasters. Or is it? I'm not the type who goes on dates all the time or the kind of gal who can attract the type of man that would actually be a suitable match. Maybe I could take a tip since my dating life can be boiled down to two things: stalking and utter disinterest. Not on my part. See, I either meet a decent guy and he texts me 28 times in one night (this happened two weeks ago) or I like a dude and he blatantly ignores me because I have a tendency to blend into the background when I really like someone.

Let's face it. We can all improve. As the sage Kelly Clarkson sings, "I know I've got issues, but you're pretty messed up too." I do have issues. Tons. And I'm pretty sure that most of them can be chalked up to quirks. But really, admit it men of NYC, you are pretty messed up too. Maybe I just mingle with the wrong sort. Here's what I deal with:

Species: The Beer Geek
Locations: Fratty bars where everybody has a friend who is bartending that night
Known For: Drinking crappy beer and ordering round after round of shots
Beware: This man WILL give you a hangover and cause you immense amounts of shame within your social circle.

Species: The Has-Been
Location: Your hometown, known to appear around holidays, especially the night before Thanksgiving
Known For: Being super hot in high school
Beware: This man has gone down hill since the late nineties. Most likely has a receding hair line and beer gut and quite possibly, a wife. May have tendencies to resent people who moved out of town. It is OK to reminisce, but approach with caution, as objects tend to appear younger and hotter the more drinks consumed.

Species: The Re-Run
Location: Most likely close to where you currently live
Known for: Not being a total asshole the first time around...in fact, you aren't sure why things ended
Beware: There IS a reason things ended. Even if you have good sex blinders on you will remember eventually and nobody likes a repeat offender.

Species: The One That Got Away
Locations: God only knows now.
Known for: Being perfect in every way, and even more perfect over time.
Beware: As the years pass, women develop selective memory. Just because somebody maintained their looks over time, doesn't mean they are still that same old sweetie you remember. Don't forget: It's easy to remember him bringing you flowers, especially when you don't recall the time he kicked you out of his car for puking.

Species: The Neil Patrick Harris
Locations: There's one in every crowd
Known for: Being really fun, knowing the lyrics to Britney songs, wearing a preponderance of pink shirts and never being able to find a nice girl.
Beware: If it looks like a duck and acts like a duck...it's probably gay. But be nice and try and set him up with that cute guy in your office who lets you know when Perez posts something funny.

Species: The Mickey Rourke
Locations: They resurface every so often, cause a big fuss and then fade away
Known for: Being really hot and then having a tragic downfall, like jail or rehab. But then they come back a little broken but kind of better than before.
Beware: Call Dr. Drew because homeboy will prolly relapse before you can call "dibs" on his ass.

Species: The Tool
Locations: Everywhere, like roaches, these guy will survive the nuclear holocaust
Known for: General douchebaggery
Beware: You know he's bad for you, but the other half of the bed ain't gonna warm itself. Slap yourself, pinch yourself do whatever it takes, because this will most liekly end with you crying and gaining ten pounds in "fuck him" weight.

Species: The One That's Undercooked
Locations: Most likely moved away or living somewhere married
Known for: Being really awesome and totally perfect, except he "wasn't ready for anything serious."
Beware: That whole line about not being ready for anything serious is code for you aren't the right girl. And that sucks. Balls. So don't invest any time, it's like investing in stock that you will never get a return from. Send him back so they can re-fire him and serve it to someone else.

Species: The Stalker
Locations: They dwell at night, usually between the hours or midnight and 5 am or until they pass out
Known For: Calling non-stop, especially while drunk
Beware: Sure it might be cute to have a textual flirtation but be advised: this man will not stop. Ever. So don't ever show him where you live or introduce him to your pet rabbit.

Species: The Normal Guy
Locations: Like unicorns and zero-calorie vodka, these men are mostly mythical. But when a solar eclipse occurs during a half moon on the 18th, you just might get to see one!
Known for: Being awesome, liking the your favorite sports team (Mets for me, obvs) and has general good sense to just be effing normal.
Beware: If you see one, approach with caution and make sure he knows you only come with good intentions. Do not show signs of excitement, as this may make the normal guy run for the hills, only to run away on a rainbow to swim in a chocolate river with leprechauns and Edward Cullen.

Now to be fair, I am a commitment-phobe with major Daddy issues, but at least I'm not on the pole and I'm pretty open-minded (I mean, I've given all of the described above a fair shot minus the normal one).

So do we all need Tough Love? Should we all just get a coach to tell us what to do and say? Probably not, because in the end, every pot has a lid, no matter how many times that pot has slept with your roommate.

Know of more species? Post them in the comments.

My blog is older than me in dog years.

What started as a narcissistic experiment four years ago has become a narcissistic habit with ones of readers.

Yes kiddos, my blog turned four without me even remembering, which shows the growing neglect it's been receiving lately. I can say for certain that the last year of my life has been pretty effing challenging, with lots of dark spots but some pretty special bright ones as well. So without a big to do or annual re-cap, I will simply toast to this silly little blog and myself, since it's pretty much the longest I've kept anything up in my adult life.

Cheers and here's to at least one more year of stupid observations and commentary!

I'm a little late...

But this is the best Oscar re-cap I've ever read. Enjoy.

Ahhh siblings...

So videos of this kid have been floating around but this is by far my favorite because his little sis gets in on the action. Also, I'm pretty sure he's singing a song from Avenue Q which, might be a little age innapropriate but whatever. Still funny. Especially when he hits her to make her get out of the frame.

Kathy Griffin 2009

Tonight marks my second time seeing Kathy Griffin live. Sure, some people argue that she comes down to hard on celebs and just feeds into rumors, but either way, that bitch is HIL-to the-ARIOUS!

Her targets this time:

Octomom
The Real Housewives of OC and NY
Jessica Simpson and her weight (she thinks she's fat)
Miley
"The Jonas Sisters" (amazing)
Seacrest (nothing new there)
Cher & Bette (only good things)
Her mom
Tom, her tour manager
The Schmemmys
The Grammys
Sarah Palin

And so many more I can't even think. I was laughing out loud 75 percent of the time and I slapped my knee (but not as much as when I saw Flight of the Conchords at Comix back in 2006).

Anyway, if you have an inner gay man living inside of you (like I do) you should definitely try to get tickets to one of her shows. She will offend and you will laugh, I promise.

IMG00006-20090210-2147.jpg

Raise your hand if you aren't sure! Meaning not sure if you had this antiperspirant on your dress when you went on your job interview. Yes, my hand is raised. Nards.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

PSA: QUIET! PLEASE!

Since last Thursday, my internet has been busted in my apartment. Due to my lack of job situation, I have to utilize the free WiFi at my neighborhood library instead of paying to work out of Starbucks (which I did one day and ended up stinking like a Colombian brew house).

I'll start this post off on a good note by saying I'm happy that the WiFi is free (or that our tax $ is covering it). Also, my branch has a great spot to sit and use your laptop, complete with power strip so my battery doesn't die.

BUT. And this is a big BUT. I recall learning that one must be quiet in a public library as not to disturb the other people doing research/reading/working. I mean, we had a library class in grade school where we learned this. My hometown had signs that reminded people to be quiet.

Apparently that is not the case at the Columbus Branch here on 10th Ave. Here are some things that have happened to me in total of 5 hours I have spent here:

1. Sat down to a woman talking to herself, loudly. Seems she and her other personalities were having a disagreement.
2. Sat across from a man working on his laptop. This would seem normal, except he was hacking up chunks of lung all over everyone.
3. Teenage/Tweenage boys sat at the public computer next to me and started to read MySpace pages out loud. At one point one started talking about this young woman's "boobs." He had obviously never touched one.
4.A young woman called her friends over to a public computer and read aloud her IM conversation. She did the voices and everything. At full volume.
5. Today, another young woman is browsing MySpace pages. People have songs on their pages. She is listening to the songs. They are bad, loud, disruptive songs.

This is just a taste. All of this goes on while I try to get my freelance assignments done so I can (maybe?) get paid and make rent without dipping into my savings. So before I go all crazy Ghostbusters library ghost on these people, I like to go with a little Carl Winslow and say to myself "Three, Two, One. One, Two, Three. What the heck is bothering me?"

It's not working. What's bothering me is the screeching of chairs and the slamming of books and bags and the bad disruptive music that this girl is listening to AS I WRITE THIS. And I have my iPod on.

Any tips on not going crazy on these people? Because I'm a few seconds from standing on my chair and screaming profanities.