glamor shot

after the after party

after every party we throw, our apartment experiences a hangover that can last more than two weeks. sure, there's the obvious stuff, like 3 bins of recyclables, dirty dishes, and the mud that gets tracked in... but there's also the little easter eggs that are harder to find. maybe someone smoked cigarettes in your room and put them out in a coffee cup. maybe someone did drugs in your bed, and you don't find the paraphernalia until the next time you do laundry. maybe someone assembled a cookie and cake sandwich, put it in a bowl filled with edamame shells, and then stuck that behind a speaker...

beer in the shower

opposite of priceless

party size pineapple pizza
THREE party size pizzas
french fries
chicken tenders
$84.54


just another friday night

packie run

wok and roll

oh no, brah, i bought grain alcohol and hawaiian punch so we could have jungle juice at the party but forgot that we dont have a punch bowl... or a pitcher... or an empty gallon jug... or... oh wait dude! i got it. we can totally just put the jungle juice in the wok.

on the side of the road

you cant really tell, but there were approximately 50 discarded scratch tickets on the side of the road.

on the front stoop

on the nightstand

STALKERSPACE

does anyone have myspace for any reason other than ruminating over old lovers? it is THE shoebox under the bed of the 21st century. it saves messages in your inbox so you can go there and read all the love letters that guy sent you in college, and you can click on their default photo and be whisked to their page and their albums. and since no one maintains their profiles anymore its like things havent changed at all since you were dating or whatever. an ephemeral little nostalgiaspace for anyone that was active on the interwebs 2004-7.

Cigarettes are Food: An Installation

This is the second in a series I would like to call "Cigarettes are Food", a motto that supermodels and pro-anas sternly abide by. For some reason people seem to think that disposing of food in fancy ashtrays or stubbing out their butts on the remnants of someone's salad is appropriate behavior. Don't get me wrong, food and cigarettes go together brilliantly. Fondue and a glass of Shiraz paired with a Ben Sherman is a classy delicacy. Pizza, PBR and a camel light make for a satisfying treat. All of this is ruined when you see a shriveled nicotine stained filter smashed into its own ash atop delicious "vanilla flavored" cookies or refreshing lycopene loaded tomatoes.

haaangovvvah

in response to this photo, my soulsistah/lifepartner in crime, bee, furrowed her brow and posed this question: "who walks around a party with nilla wafers in his hand and thinks, the best place for me to dispose of these is an ashtray?"
the kind of people we associate with, apparently.

There's nothing more delightfully nostalgic than a built in glass cabinet displaying your collection of childhood boardgames. Not 1, not 2 but 3 sets of Twister ensures that this thinly veiled excuse for dry humping cum game "that ties you up in knots" will erupt into an adult twisted tea fueled orgy, which, thanks to the multiple cases of roach traps, will not be interrupted by any unsightly vermin. Proudly displaying your affection for childhood gameplay says "I'm fun and fiercely competitive." Proudly displaying your vintage 1980s Muhammed Ali Roach traps says "Chuh, I'm an urban dweller who sometimes sucks at life..or maybe I'm just over-identifying with Gregor Samsa."

labor day party time

so its the sunday before labor day and the entire free world is invited to a cookout at the lake and taking boat rides and getting tans and drinking he last of the summer beers and grilling burgers with their friends.

me? i just get home from work, put on sweats, make pasta, have a bud dry and try to catch up on mad men on demand. suddenly my phone rings! its my roomie, grrrrrl monster, "soooo are you up to anything?" oooh you know im just blogging and getting quality time with the kitties. "good. i just rented rachel getting married. will you watch it with me?" uuummmm duh! and the goodies she rolled home with were soo suck-at-life-tastic that i was like dude, we gotta put this on the blog. note the scratch ticket.

suck at feminism

we've already tried to figure out how and why there are so many used condoms lining the streets, and now this! a brassiere! are people really just ripping their clothes off and having protected sex in the middle of the road? and then leaving the evidence? so we can all get jealous? because we are not so spontaneous? and confine sex acts to private spaces? like puritans!

or maybe whilst speeding around our fair city some woman just realized she was sick of The Man trying to keep her titties in check and threw that poorly-designed garment of oppression right out the window?

bachelor pad

we dont have actual foods in our fridge. but we do have enough condiments to survive armageddon. three types of mustard. two types of soy sauce. veggie drawer filled with beer.

edit: i spy five types of mustard in these pix

drunk notes from last night dot com

condoms: the wrap up

i've said it before and i'll say it again: i do not wish to imply that condoms= sucking at life. buuuut.... david cross already beat me to making a joke about finding used condoms on city streets (listen to 'shut up you fucking baby') and the receipt for golden emblem (read: cvs' generic brand) peach rings and trojen enz speaks for itself...

already making good on those promises

all that talk about the internets really got me jonsin and after checking my horoscope i found this gem on craigslist missed connections. they are all pretty whack (although thank you to whoever it was that posted one about me (!!!) last fall, i was too creeped out to reply but it really did sort of make my day... and apparently my year, because im here writing about it now...) but this one is truly a homage to sucking at life. the real question is if by "sparx" she meant "sparks" and by "sparks" i mean the caffeinated malt liquor, not tiny electrical/ emotional currents...

handsome kamart man - w4m - 20 (cromwell)

---

Date: 2009-08-06, 11:08PM EDT

---

I saw you tonight at KMart. You were wearing a red employees polo shirt and had lnog dark hair and a little gotea. you looked like somewhere in your 20s (about the same as me!). I was the squat cheerful looking redhead drinking a moolatte and wearing a grey ESPRIT tshirt with the sleeves cut off and kakhi capri pants. i asked you if you carried blow up pool toys shaped like ducks cuz my kids have been driving me nuts. you pointed to the middle of the store and said if we have them they are there. call me crazy, but i felt the sparx. i know theres only a small chance youll read this but i can't get you out of my mind. If you felt the chemistry like I did lets talk. I bet we have a lot in common. I have a minivan and im a great cook. maybe i can come over and make you a delicious super sometime like baked mac and cheese. :)

party party party party party

at left please note the beautiful "Hartford Parties Harder" flexible bottle sleeve that someone brought with them to whatever bar it was that i was drinking three jack and cokes with lemon and a red bull. its that sort of commitment to consistent beverage temperature and city pride that the Hartford Party Starters' Union is increasingly famous for. more on them in a bit...

ive said it before, and ill say it again, the best thing about being a "blogger" on a site about sucking at life is that the less you do, the more legit you are. look around here. we are sooo legit. too legit maybe? my shitty computer has not wanted to make love to the internets for months now, so all of my compulsive computing (ooooh you know, facebook, myspace, craigslist missed connections, adult friend finder, google imaging former lovers...) has mostly been done on grrrrl monster's computer when she forgets it in the living room. i promise i will try to get that thing back on line asapers so i can share all these camera phone pix i have of used condoms in gutters, discarded party size pizza boxes, and wrecked living rooms.

in the meantime, we're adding the hartford party starters to the blogs we read, (edit: we will soon) because theyve added us, and also because they are sort of awesome. theyve even invited us to post a bit, but im not sure that ill have much to contribute, as im way more of a party crasher than a starter. If the blogosphere was your first semester living in a dorm, they are the sexy senior boys that buy you keystone light, invite you over for beer pong, and tell you everything that's going on on campus and we are the friendly girls down the hall with plush bean bag for you to sit in and dish about that hook up with the president of phi beta alpha delta whatever. more simply put: they are the pregame, we are the hangover. also, no more college-life extended metaphors, i promise.