Wednesday, June 12, 2013

"Yes! Yes I know I have a huge fucking pimple on my face. Thanks!

My apartment is practically a fun house of mirrors, and I’ve already been called ‘pizza face’ today, so yeah, I’m aware of the problem and am working on it.

Oh, you barely notice it? Yeah? Really?

You’re a goddamn liar.

God called. He wanted to check in to make sure you’re still alive. Because my pimple is blocking his view of you.

Yes, I know I’m attracting more attention to it by talking about it.

I’ll stop now.

I’m stopping. 

After I wash my face with acid.


Tuesday, June 11, 2013


There is a Twitter account, and correct me if I have this wrong, that personifies your hair. Basically it’s your hair tweeting.

Connie Britton’s hair is magnificent.

Ughh so beautiful. 

Sunday, January 6, 2013


  • Finish writing hit single “Do You Remember? (The Blow Job Song)” 
  • Finish writing sappy ballad “Long Road”
  • Write a relationship self-help book (Feel It, Say It: How to Overcome Communication Problems and Develop Meaningful Relationships)
  • Write novel (The man dropped his mop when he found Carrie Zhu hanging by the neck with several ethernet cables from the office’s exposed piping.)
  • Start blog about fucked Millennials with Paul
  • Ideas for new media?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Leighton Meester | Flaunt [via] 



Leighton Meester | Flaunt [via


Sunday, October 28, 2012

Some Links I Looked at While Procrastinating Tonight

The Stigma of the Never Married Man Sometimes men don’t get married at all, and people start thinking they’re Man Children. Commenters BEG TO DIFFER, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, MARRIED PEOPLE SUCK.

Hurricane Sandy Could Be a Toxic Shitstorm in the Gowanus Canal When my roommate and I were looking for places to live, I was like yo, Gowanus could be GREAT, and if we plant there, we will be such early adopters. Then once they open the Whole Foods, it’ll be super trendy, and then we can be all “Yeah, we know, guys. We know.” But I didn’t realize it stinks every time it rains…? That’s awful. As if New York doesn’t smell bad enough in random pockets. Gross. Oh, and if a hurricane happens, shit will be everywhere. That’s awful too.

Where’s Taylor Swift? She’s on Grooveshark, YouTube, BitTorrent… I didn’t want to buy Red but didn’t want to download it illegally so I searched “taylor swift red streaming” and this link came up. Basically she refused to stream on Rhapsody or Spotify to boost initial sales, but obviously there are alternative methods of listening to it. I’m now on Grooveshark. And loving it.

Photos of Jon Hamm in tiny, retro swim trunks Part of me is all, “Does this really require commentary?” Maybe not. But I’d like to say that both Jon Hamm and Jessica Pare actually look incredibly NORMAL in these photos. Super normal! Like, you can see that Jon Hamm still has pale white boy thigh peaking out of his shorts, and Jessica Pare’s body does not have that sheeny look that celebrity photos usually have. So it’s kind of nice! They look fantastic but not in an unapproachable way. 

Hurricane Sandy through Instagram This was kind of nice, too! Funny, and indicative of how much New Yorkers are seeing Sandy as another Irene, where a lack of a real storm means day drinking and chilling. Consider this link, for example.

Vulture Asks a Relationship Expert about Taylor Swift’s Problems This was a brilliant idea for a piece. But it also made me think I could be a relationship expert. Not that my relationship is the ideal that must be reached or anything, but all the advice is just all so DUH, of course. Just reasonable advice that anybody looking in from the outside should be able to give. Anyway, how much does this lady get paid? A friend wants to know. 

Pretty sure this is not a boner IDK, Michael Bloomberg spends most of his time in the public eye. I think at this point, he’s learned to hold that shit down in public. People in that position (aka, all men?) must have some go-to’s. If Bloomberg knows he gets super turned on giving a presser (hehe), I feel like he’d have a go-to boner killer image to think of, uk? That just seems like a smart thing to do.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

When someone says they love eating healthy


Tuesday, September 4, 2012

“He was the first man I’d met who wasn’t afraid of me.” 
- Hillary Clinton on Bill.
(via salon; motherjones; dianeshipley)

This photo is the best ever.


“He was the first man I’d met who wasn’t afraid of me.” 

- Hillary Clinton on Bill.

(via salonmotherjonesdianeshipley)

This photo is the best ever.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Your life is a series of instagram photos.

So there’s this girl I’m friends with on Facebook who hands down does the best job of making her life look fun and exciting through her FB photos. Do you know what I’m talking about? She’s beautiful and always extremely well-dressed but not so well-dressed that it looks like she’s trying. Like, haha, yeah I just threw this on for this rooftop party I’m at! Haha, yeah, all my friends are also beautiful and know how to wear bright red lipstick without looking like they’re about to get on stage for a rendition of “Cell Block Tango”! I coveted her style and at one point went through tons of her photos. She made eating frozen pizza bagels seem glamorous.

Actually, many of my real life friends and Facebook friends are very well-dressed, beautiful people who frequent bars with views. It’s not like they DON’T put those overhead shots of Manhattan on Facebook. Somehow this girl just does it better. She’s perfected the art of maximizing the glamour of your own life, and it makes her Facebook an attraction in a way unlike any of my other FB friends. 

I don’t know her very well, but when I did know her, she was very sweet and a little insecure and very much trying to figure things out in her first year in New York. She might still be all of those things.

I think we might have had a lot in common but we never really clicked.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012
(via: newyorker)

(via: newyorker)

This is Day 1.

Haha, the title is a play on the 100 words titles. I’m not sure what to do with this blog anymore since every time I write, I feel the need to do it on the 100words blog. Strangely enough, though, I don’t feel as though any part of my identity is attached to 100words. Not like I feel attached to stuff I post on my Facebook or Twitter. In a way, it’s good that my sense of self isn’t attached to 100words—that’s the point. To not get too caught up in what it might say about me. To experiment a little if I want to.

My online presence has been aggressively personal since I started writing on a Diaryland freshmen year of high school. I’ve always been very open about my life, my anxieties, my crushes, etc. Knowing online me was knowing the real me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten more careful about what I post online and how I appear. Future employers and boyfriend’s grandmothers can search my name now, after all. Online me is much more carefully curated now. I’ve made old blogs private and deleted the silliest of blog posts in an effort to control my presence. I also blog much less.

The truth is there will never be a point in time where everything I’ve ever written online is exactly what I want to show about me. As in, blog posts that seem great right now may very well be points of shame in the future. And people can potentially see all of it—good and bad. For example, as I experimented with my own blogging voice on NUIntel, I made many bad jokes and was tried too hard sometimes and, well, I could go on about nitpicky things but I won’t.

Of course, the very basis of this post assumes that I’m important enough for people to read my extended body of work. I’m not. The sheer volume—pages and pages on Tumblr alone!—is enough to deter the average inquirer from trying at all. Most people don’t even go past the first page of their Google searches, let alone six posts down on my NUIntel author page.

So, point being: Now that I’m literally becoming a professional blogger (haha, guys, can you believe it?), worrying too much about how I come off in every little post is a mistake. I kind of feel that my writing is a somewhat vulnerable extension of myself, which can make it difficult for me to try hard things. And really, that’s the worst thing that could happen: Not trying at all.