New Year's Noshing, Chugging and Partying Advice

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a New Year's buffet table knows nothing of the holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much as you can. And quickly. Enjoy it. Drink the highest-caloric choices whenever available. Punches, fruity martinis, anything frozen. Do it up and do it up right; I mean, you've always wanted to be the life of the party, right? New Year's Eve is for last "bad decisions" of the year; New Year's Day is for repenting for them.

3. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it.

4. Under no circumstances should you hesitate to eat whatever you want. What if Armageddon occurred at the strike of midnight? Would you like to go down emaciated? Stop thinking Ashley Olsen; think 28 Days Later, people.

5. Wear something sparkly. Glitter is always good. You want to leave an impression on everyone you meet and having them spend the first week of the New Year picking glitter out of bizarre places like eye creases and nose hair. Give them something to remember you by.

6. If you are going to a club or bar, hire one of your siblings or friends to follow you around with a camera capturing all your stupid antics all night; there's no better way to follow through with your resolutions than to witness your drunken debauchery on film the morning after.

7. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

Remember this motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

Now go on, readerettes...have a Happy New Year!

Starbucks is Not Your Office

I get it. I'm a freelancer too. I enjoy flaunting my unemployed employ-ability. I enjoy camaraderie amongst my fellow wi-fi seekers; ah, the feeling of accomplishment when I score that coveted real estate by the power outlet so I can out-last the bunch with nowhere to stick their power cords. But I am a little confused when the concept took a turn. It seems freebie-lancers are now pulling up U-Hauls with desks and filing cabinets in tow and setting up office at Starbucks.

I passed through a Starbucks on the Upper East the other day and witnessed a worker bee who musta paid off the barista or something because she had pulled 4 tables together to create a larger "corporate" desk at which she sat behind; the entire surface covered in file folders stacked high...she literally had her Blackberry, iPod, iPhone, digital camera and more splayed across the various paperwork. Nary a coffee in sight. What gives?

I feel like if you are going to work from home (i.e. holed up in a coffee shop keeping amped up on mocha-loco double-dose latte surprises so to "focus" on task at hand) then at least have the courtesy to share your desk with me; II need the power outlet, and I promise not to steal your clients if you buy me a drink.

Words to Live By

Valentimes is not a word. If you want to talk about, take part in or wallow in the stupid Hallmark holiday, at least say it correctly. It's Valentine's.

Vokka. When ordering this beverage at the bar, it would be nice if you could actually pronounce it. It's not complex like Vueve Cliquot. It's a very simple word, really. Vod-ka. Unless of course you are too inebriated to actually pronounce it in which case maybe you should eliminate the vokka and just drink a red bull.

"In actuality." This really gets Ette1's goat. It's technically grammatically correct to say this, however my experience is that it is used by dummies. It is much simpler and much more fair to the English language to simply say, "actually." So when you are trying to explain to me why you were late to meet me and thus left me at the bar alone for 54 minutes with the drunkard who tried to spike my drink, don't come in talking about "In actuality, it's day light savings and you should have turned your clock forward an hour; so I am 6 minutes early." I'll beat you down with my martini glass.

Very valid. Hmmm. Is it really very valid? Or is it simply valid? I was under the impression that it was either valid or it was not; Like your coupon for a free dozen donuts. It's valid between the hours of 6am and 10am. It doesn't make it very valid at 8am.

Jutebox. It's a jukebox.

Libary. If you are talkin' about it, heading to it, borrowing something from it, learn how to say it.

Expresso. It's not express-o. It may give you a quick jolt. It may send you in to next week with caffeine. It's esssssssssspresssssssss-o.

Internets. I almost didn't add this to the list because it's one of Kvetchette's personal faves. We will continue to support this Bush-ism, but we just wanted to shout it out in case anyone uses this in any other format other than jest.

Supposably. 'Nuff said.

Dumb-ass drivers

This is a joint kvetch from Mother-in-law-ette and Pop-ette on 2's side.

Being retired folks, we have more time to drive around doing whatever our hearts' desire. During our shopping, day trips and just tooling around our blood pressure begins to rise dealing with the discourteous, disrespectful and downright RUDE drivers.

We're shocked that these Beemers, Infinitis, Acuras, Hummers and the like are not equipped with signaling devices! These cars constantly speed up and then cut us off causing our blood to boil. Now.........we must assume that this is a manufacturing problem because if it is the drivers, (which Pop-ette believes), there must be gazillions of dumb-arse drivers out there! We really just want a couple of seconds warning before you scare the sh-t out of us. Is that too much to ask?

Our other kvetch is regarding drivers' failure to comprehend the meaning of 'MERGE.' The American Heritage Dictionary defines this word as "to blend together gradually." Now the key word is gradually. So why is it necessary for these RUDE drivers to muck up traffic by speeding up to the absolute end of the merge lane and then push their way into our lane? We guess it's too much to expect these guys to anticipate the results of their non-thinking and lack of civilized driving skills. Pop-ette says they just don't give a flying F@#$! I like to believe that they just don't have a good grasp of the English language.

Anyway, we'll keep tooling around and enjoying the ride...because we're off the clock.

Juno

From time to time we take a break from just being funny to provide various services to our readers. We help inform you of important news of the day, keep you up on fashion trends and generally define what's cool and what's not - because we are the authorities. Tonight we'll help you choose your entertainment.

Saw Juno and highly recommend. It's a heartwarming little story of a spunky teen who gets knocked up by the skinny kid from Superbad. (Don't think we previously reviewed Superbad for you but it was Superawesome, we also highly recommend.) Juno was sort of like a long episode of Freaks and Geeks - smart kids who are mature beyond their years and the funny characters around them. All of the performances were great, even mannish Jennifer Garner made me like her, and that's not an easy task. That's not to say there weren't lots of good man shots of her face, but in all she was enjoyable. Also enjoyed that fact that the nerdy love interest was a jew - no mention of the fact but he had lots of good jew-orabilia in his room. Love Alison Janney and that scary guy from Oz is adorable when he's not raping male inmates. Definitely worth the 11 bucks - although of course if you can get someone else to pay it makes it all that much more enjoyable. Stay away from the 40 ounce water bottles, they'll make you pee all night and they are sort of like trying to drink from a basketball, you can barely fit your fingers around it.

LINT

Lint sucks. It is my biggest pet peeve. I am talking about all lint varietals (dryer lint, belly button lint, lint that spins around on the floor and finds a home in cozy corners). My biggest irk is lint on clothing; mainly coats. Nothing gets my goose like a wool coat with lint all over it. And I think they are making those lint rollers out of a cheaper quality of sticky-tape these days...I swear I go through five or six sheets of tape before I even clear one lapel. And then just when I feel fairly lint-free, I must walk through a lintifall (that's a lint-snowfall) and there I am, covered again and cursing out loud; causing pedestrians to stop and stare. Which creates a whole new drama because I don't know if they are stopping and staring at me because I am cursing to myself like a crazy person or because I am covered in lint and look ridiculous.

So there you have it. Lint blows.

The Best of 2007

The Ettes breakdown of the Best EVERYTHING about 2007...

• Kvetchette is B O R N -- from a dream to a reality literally overnight. 2007 is automatically dubbed best year ever.


• Paris Hilton went to jail and cried about it; and her new role is of global ambassador to all things good, of course all good things happen in between swinging from chandeliers in Germany whilst pitching her champagne-in-a-can. We love multi-taskers.


• Pretty much everything Britney. Let her drama be born and die with 2007; 2008 is for drama that doesn't involve razors and leaving your assistant at a gas station.


• Ette2 went to the chapel (figuratively) and got mawwied (literally).


• Anna Nicole dies and the world goes into shock - how? why? it's so sad?! Hmm...let's see; drug abuse, a series of questionable and quite frankly scary relationships with slimy old men (and screwball lawyers), the inability to form a sentence without slurring words, did we mention loads of public inebriation stunts? Had an evil mom to boot, which we know always sweetens the crazy-pot.


• VJ made a comeback, bigtime. First it was the "D*ck in a Box" retort, "Box in a Box," followed by months and months of vagina-speak. What body part will reign in '08? I'm voting for the Cankle. Who has it, who's getting it, where it was seen out last night...


• The Beckham's move stateside, and we become obsessed, if for but a moment, with seeing Posh in person to determine if she is indeed human or the result of a third-world lab specimen hoax.


• The Year of the Baby Bump! Everyone's doing it! Knocked up, Juno, J-Lo, Nicole, B-Nasty, it's du rigour to be unwed, do the dirty with any random peanut, gain weight, pop out child and continue to go about your bidddness like nothing has changed. Now what would make 2008 a really fantastic year is if one of such celebs (like say, Paris) gets knocked up and then ends up giving birth to septuplets. THAT would be icing, baby.

Happy Holidays, readerettes. We Glove You.

Chuck Norris fact of the day

Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.

Oh no 2 is out

1 is very sad because she can't be 2's boss anymore.  1 really liked bossing around 2, it gave her a sense of importance and satisfaction, 1 feels that she will miss it a great deal.  The thing is that 1 became used to having 2 around, she was able to call or skype her at a moment's notice and 2 would have to respond in a friendly and professional matter in order to keep her job. Now that the job is over 2 will not have to treat 1 with the same sense of urgent respectfulness that 1 has become accustomed to.  This is unsettling and uncomfortable for 1.  And yet 1 appreciates 2's hard work and dedication and 1 hopes 2 will stay in touch. xoxoxo

Playin in Playa

Ok, it's Playa Del Carmen instead of the Caymens - still better than cold-ass New York, see ya in '08.

Slim shady

New Years Eve options

I've been presented with a few options for New Years activities.

Option 1: Stay in NY and go to some lame club that's hosting a partyOR
Option 2: Fly to Cayman Islands with a bunch of hot, single girlfriends and party
Here's a snapshot of what my day/night would be like in each locale, hopefully this will help me decide what to do:

December 31st
11 a.m. NY:
Awake lying in bed with the sweats praying to the lord that if he'll just help you to not puke (after your night of binge drinking since you had the day off anyway) you promise to go to temple more and you'll try not to eat shrimp even though they make such good shrimp tempura rolls at the Japanese place. Then the thought of shrimp tempura makes you puke anyway.

11 a.m. Caymans
Finish up a healthy and tasty breakfast of fresh island fruit served on your hotel balcony overlooking the ocean, with the soundtrack of waves crashing just a few feet away.

1 p.m. NY
Decide to peel your gross, smelly, puke-in-your-hair self off the couch to shower and get your day started.

1 p.m. Caymans
Decide to put on an extra coat of sunblock since the sun is really shining in 80 degree, cloudless, breezy weather.

3 p.m. NY:
Shell out $40 for one of those Mystic spray tans that you always end up ingesting and probably causes cancer to mask the pasty, haven't-seen-the-sun-in-months, neon-white glow you've got going on on those legs in case you want to wear a skirt tonight.

3 p.m. Caymans
Shell out $6 for some firm, tanned island boy to bring you dry towels after your dip in the crystal clear water of the Caribbean. Then joke with friends on the proper pronunciation; is it Caribbean like one syllable or Ca-rib-bean like the Disney ride? Ha, ha, doesn't matter -- we're here.

4 p.m. NY:

Fight through crowds returning unwanted, ill fitting Christmas gifts to get the perfect sparkly outfit to wear out to the club, but they are out of your size, so you buy the less-than-perfect-but-will-do, totally overpriced sparkly dress.

4 p.m. Caymans:

Wrap a sarong around your hips and take a stroll along the water's edge as you contemplate what type of fresh fish you'll have for dinner.

6 p.m. NY:

Start getting dressed, change hair four times cause it's not curling just right and as you go to grab the bottle of hairspray you spill eyeshadow on your sparkly dress and have to resort to less-cute, already-worn, boring party dress.

6 p.m. Caymans:

Sit with the girls and flirt with bartender as we watch the sunset with tropical drinks in our hands.

9 p.m. NY

Head out in freezing cold temps to house party for pre-drinking since club doesn't open till 11.

9 p.m. Caymans:

Pop over to local bar situated on beach with tiki torches lighting the path to the outdoor NYE bash.

11 p.m. NY

Stand in insanely long line while beefy bouncers check ID before you have the honor of handing over $150 to get into overcrowded, too-small club, where drinks will cost you $20 bucks a pop and that's if you can get through the thousand people to reach the bar.

11 p.m. Caymans

Party's getting going as happy tourists wearing very little clothing dance under the stars.

Midnight NY

Drunk-ass party-goers start the countdown a full 2 minutes early as you try to find the creepy guy who's been grinding up behind you since you got there so you at least have a New Year's kiss.

Midnight Caymans

Share a hot make out session with the buff Brazilian tourist dude with the great accent you met at the pool earlier in the day.

I'll give this one a good think... but dollars to donuts, I'm pretty sure I'll see you when I'm back from the Caymans biatch!

I'm not pregnant - It's just the dress...

Let's set the record straight; I work in the fashion and beauty industries. I'm required to stay up on clothing, hair and accessory trends. So I must inform you that the dress I'm wearing today is fashionable and cute and not a maternity dress. Yes it flares out under my boobs, yes it's voluminous, yes it can be called a tent - no there isn't a baby under there.

Sorry to confuse you fashion-illiterettes out there. Next time you see a hot young thing like myself you'll know - I'm cool, you are not, my outfit is hot and expensive and not from gap maternity.

The Ettes Dole Out Christmas Presents

In the spirit of the holiday season, the Ettes have bounded together to do a mitzvah and offer prezzies...

FREE BIRTH CONTROL PILLS FOR ANYONE WHO MEETS THESE REQUIREMENTS:

1. If you are under the age of 16.
2. If your family obviously is too busy sharing the limelight with your white trash sister to be concerned about your whereabouts, thus rendering you lonely with no one to "guide" you. (What would Jesus do?)
3. If you are stupid and cute, a volatile combination.
4. If you don't own a car, pay your own bills, live on your own or have at least the equivalent of a high school education, but you have a pretty wicked Barbie collection and you can still fit in a Tonka truck.
   
5. If you live with the belief that having enough money can make raising a child "easy" or that it will make you cool.
6. If you think the best thing about having a baby is being able to buy cute clothes with fun slogans on them like "My Mom's a MILF" --or even more simply, you believe you will be a MILF and that is pretty cool.
   
7. If you don't know how to operate a washing machine.
8. If you have received any tickets in the last 6 months for the following offenses; running over people's feet with your car, going the wrong way on a one-way street, shoplifting or driving while under the influence of anything other than POM juice.

If you meet these requirements, the Ette's will gladly fatten your holiday stocking (and not your anorexic belly) by filling it to the brim with birth control pills. Please note if you should only meet some of the aforementioned requirements, well, you still suck and would probably ruin a poor child's life so we'll give you some B.C. too.

Oh no, not little Jamie Lynn too...

Just got in and trying to catch the last few minutes of Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, and I hear the news. Britney's little sis is knocked up. She's 16-years-old. Not old enough to smoke, not old enough to drink and basically just got her driver's license. (Tila update: She chose Bobby - obviously she's going to go for the dude - she's so not a lesbian.) Back to Jamie Lynn... The problem is Nicole Richie made it look too cute to be preggo so now all the little girls want to do it too. She made us love giant sunglasses and boho jewelry and now she's at it with the baby belly. Guess what girls, it doesn't go back - well not without surgery. The thing is we were all kinda hoping that Jamie Lynn would step up and replace the missing space in our hearts we were saving for the Britney comeback that was never to be. Turns out she's just as white trash and birth control adverse as her big sis. It's sad. She'll probably name him Cody or Cassidy or something dumb like that.

We Even Dance For You

Happy Holidays

from the Ettes...

now for your viewing pleasure

click here.

The Gold Standard

Here's something you don't see everyday. The New Museum in NY is selling capsules you ingest, promising to turn your poo GOLD. For the low introductory price of $275, you can purchase the golden nuggets and immediately climb the status pole as the only ace on your block to be so money, your bowels are gold.

Hmmm..gold poo. Now if that were something I was interested in, which I'm not (at least not yet; I need convincing) I might be apt to fork up a few bucks to see if it actually worked. C'mon, you know you would too. But $275 for three gold-poo capsules??

I would like to create a pros and cons list of why gold poo may or may not be a good idea:

Pro: If you made poo in a public restroom you could leave a floater and really freak the next poo-er out.
Con: Having to make poo in a public restroom to achieve this glory.

Pro: People may use the catch phrase "You act like your shit don't stink..." and you can kindly retort that whilst it may stink like other poo it certainly looks prettier; and it sparkles.
Con: You are retorting to a nasty chide at your personality with a golden poo comeback.

Pro: You can bring back Studio 54, starting with the bathroom.
Con: The only people who want to be reminded of Studio 54 while in the bathroom are those who have no cocaine left and hope to find some on your toilet seat.

Pro: You just dropped a golden deuce, and you lucked out because it happened to be a whammy.
Con: This is the kind of thing that sounds cool, but you are the only person who will garner any satisfaction after dropping the kids off at the pool. Unless of course you are comfortable asking friends and/or family to come check out the poo you just dropped in their powder room, in all it's golden glory.

All interested parties, please purchase your Poo Pills here.

Too super cool

Br-ette thinks this is funny, not so sure if we do but we want to support our readers. Enjoy!


Too Super Cool For His Ticket - Watch more free videos

OK, they are working it out

...for now. They are probably just worried about not having a New Year's date. I give them till Feb.

See what I mean about the Pam with no makeup thing...

Ettes know it all

As reported on October 15th, 2007, the Ettes predicted the inevitable end of the marriage that was Pam Anderson and that Guy who had the sex tape with Paris. They made it just over two months, admirable. Pammy cited irreconcilable differences. Not sure what that means exactly, but perhaps some of the issues were, "I only knew him for 10 minutes before we got married, My sex tape outsold his sex tape and he couldn't handle having a more successful spouse, When he saw me without makeup, he opted out..."

Check out our archives for other impending breakups. Sorry Nicole and Keith, we're coming for you too, enjoy it while it lasts.

Reasons Why Living in the Suburbs Is Fun

1. Your old crew from the city think you live much farther than you really do, which means they don't hold the same expectations of you to show up for random dinners and parties like when you lived in the hood.


2. Giving directions on how to reach your abode becomes a fun exercise in teasing when you start using landmarks like 'hay bale' and 'tractor' or by telling them that when they get off the train they should pass the lineup of Amish carriages out front and simply walk the 4 miles to your house.


3. Cars, driveways and ample parking. Yes, having a car to get you from point A to B or anywhere in between is underrated. City life has you believing that you are so indestructable and cool that you can walk anywhere and thus you learn how to get Indian food, buy a parka, get fitted for a bra, go rollerblading and see a show at Lincoln Center, all within a span of 14 blocks and 20 minutes. In the suburbs, I power up my gas-guzzling SUV from the comfort of my living room thanks to my remote start, then I take 4 steps from front door to car, and I drive wherever my lil heart pleases. And the suburbs have malls with loads of parking; no driving around the entire UWS looking for a spot so you can simply drop off dry cleaning or stand in line for a hot dog. Nah, we suburbanites do it up right. Drive through, baby. Even our ATM's are drive through.


4. Having a house with two levels and a backyard inevitably elicit 'oohs and aah's' from the crowd of city-folk who have come to visit you. It doesn't matter where people grew up or how much acreage they had as a kid; once you become a city dweller, space is about as foreign a concept as intelligence is to George Bush. So no matter how big or small your house and yard is, it will be the talk of the evening as people relish in your space and pretend, if for but a night, that they are ready to move to the burbs too for such luxuries.


5. It's possible to fulfill all the cliche husbandly and wifely duties, which is sort of fun in a Stepford-ish, Rosemary's Baby kind of pretend-way. Like, your hubbie actually shovels snow from your driveway and walkway, and you actually carry loads of laundry down to the basement and DO them. Things your domesticated city-friends would laugh hysterically over.

There you have it; suburbs rock.

Places I won't be invited back to...

Remember on Thursday when I couldn't think of anything to complain about? Yeah well that was last week. The weekend was supposed to be promising, but took a sharp turn. I'll fill you in on today's lowlights. Took a train up to what is essentially Canada to visit 2 her honna, see their sprawling new pad (which was beautiful) and for the pups to have a play date. Attempted to drown my sorrows in a glass of wine, which quickly turned into 3 - spiked with roofies, not sure who's responsible for that. Of course my dog sucks and refused to make friends with their awesome, fun loving and sweet dog and she tried to bite everyone in the room. We made guacamole and I'm also fairly certain we ate dog food. After our failed play date we decided to give up on them becoming puppy pals and we took to the man's room for a little herbal recreation. Turns out that was spiked with roofies too and in like a matter of seconds I found myself face down on their couch. Something like two hours goes by, and its dark outside; 2 and her hubby are hovering over me hoping I'll wake up so they can get to their dinner plans. Well wake up I do, promptly followed by throw up. I make a mad dash to their bathroom and cuddle the toilet for another half hour. Great. We pack up the dog, hit the car, they come to a rolling stop in front of the train station and I'm off. On the ride back to the states, I'm starting to feel queasy again. Never took metro north before - don't know if they have bathroom facilities so I proceed to pull a plastic bag out of my tote and puke again, airplane seat style. Hot. Don't think Bam or me will be welcomed back to the burbs to visit 2 again, and I'm quite sure I'm not allowed to ride the metro north Harlem lines anymore. Luckily I found myself in a cab, not quite sure how, and Mrs. Hall meets me for a little fried rice and little pep talk.

Now I'm panning for the New Year a little early, here are some of my '08 resolutions:
- Limit myself to one glass of wine per hour, sans roofies
- Stop trying to socialize Bam, just leave her at home
- Avoid thongs when wearing tights, short dress and have potential to pass out on friend's couch
- Carry toothbrush at all times
- Carry plastic bags at all times
- Keep amazing friends who listen to you cry, get you trashed, hold your hair when you puke and share a box of greasy food with you

Subway

Check out this vintage sesame street segment on riding the subway - courtesy of our friend BAE.

Sad to see how little has changed in public transport in 35+ years, awesome to see how freaking cool sesame street is.

A Guest Kvetch!

Mother-In-Law-ette has recently returned stateside from a glorious getaway in the Dominican Republic. In between showing off her fabulous tan (with snow, sleet and hail raining down in the background), she shared the following kvetch with yours truly:

"One looks forward to vacationing at a tropical resort. The sunshine that is so perfect it's as if they've paid Mother Earth a fee to shine down so lovingly on the resort guests...the pretty grounds, the all-inclusive eat-whatever-you-want-because-you-can attitude. I covet each and every moment. However, one thing that gets my goose is lounge chair invasion.

What is with vacationers whose sole purpose on their vacay is to wake up the earliest to claim their pool lounge chairs? We are on vacation people; this involves sleeping in; or at the very least until 7am--not the insane hour of 5am when some of you wrinkly sun-goddesses start making your way down to the pool to stake claim to a chaise! And I am not merely referencing a handful of offenders; oh no; by the time I've reached the sunny oasis there is not a single chaise left. Not a one! And half of these vicious offenders have the audacity to shimmy down there at 5am in their visors and sarongs, stake claim to a chair by placing their towel on it and a bottle of suntan lotion and then traipse off to breakfast, or back to bed for more shut eye. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Now I have no problem with vacating your chair for a quick run to the loo, a lazy swim, a cocktail, even to swing back to your room to grab the tabloid with Britney's latest pregnancy news stamped across the cover (btw, what is with that Britney girl? Her mother must be shvitzing tears over this lost soul; but that's another kvetch). But when you are gone from that chair for 2 hours, well that my friend is grounds for getting yourself booted from that chaise; towel, suntan lotion, flip flops and all.

So I use this forum to apologize, lady-with-the-way-too-large-yellow-hat-and-the-bikini-you-- definitely-should-not-have-been-wearing; 'twas me who stole your chair. I hope that your martini happy hour, massage and 6-course lunch were worth it. I certainly enjoyed my chair, thank you."

Can't be bitchy today

In a totally unprecedented move this morning, I find that I have nothing to bitch about - making it difficult for me to blog. My office closes at 2 today for our holiday party and I'm looking at a 3 day weekend ahead - so I'm in a pretty freaking good mood. On top of that I got a cab right outside my door this morning, and they just handed me my holiday bonus - score! Trust me I searched my brain for something to be cranky about. It's snowing and cold - that's annoying I guess, but I have super cute snow boots and a new sweater dress, so no issue there. My DVR didn't tape the Hills this week, but MTV shows it online. My dog poops on the floor - but then eats it, so no clean up necessary. In all, it's been a pretty good week. I'm sure something will come up and I'll feel compelled to kvetch, but till then I guess I'll just have to post Chuck Norris facts.

Can I Help You?

This is just awesome.

DePlane! DePlane!

All this talk about sky-safety these days has everyone wishing they could just keep their feetsies planted firmly on the ground. News reports keep surfacing about Air Traffic Control making "errs" in plane distances, causing planes to practically collide in takeoffs and landings, or at the very least bringing those suckers too close for comfort with high-velocity winds and all that techno-crap.

But one thing that just doesn't sit right...why do these news-folk keep using the term "near miss?" If they nearly missed wouldn't that mean they actually hit each other? Forgive me if I am incorrect but wouldn't it be better served to say it was a "near hit?"

And while we are on the subject of stealing humor from George Carlin, below are some things to get you thinking today, as the snowstorm blows in and freezes all our friggin pipes:

• Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?

• If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest have to drown too?

• If you ate pasta and antipasti, would you still be hungry?

• If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?

• If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

• Why is it that when we bounce a check, the bank charges us more of what they already know we don't have any of?

• When someone asks you, A penny for your thoughts and you put your two cents in, what happens to the other penny?

• Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

• Why do croutons come in airtight packages? It's just stale bread to begin with.

• If you mixed vodka with orange juice and milk of magnesia, would you get a Phillip's Screwdriver?

• Why is a person who plays the piano called a pianist, but a person who drives a race car not called a racist?

• Why is it that no word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple?

• Why is it that we recite at a play and play at a recital?

• Why are a wise man and a wise guy opposites?

• Why do we say something is out of whack? What is a whack?

• If horrific means to make horrible, does terrific mean to make terrible?

• Why isn't 11 pronounced onety one?

• "I am." is reportedly the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be that "I Do." is the longest sentence?

• If the singular of GEESE is GOOSE, shouldn't a Portuguese person be called a Portugoose?

• Why is a procrastinator's work never done?

• If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked and drycleaners depressed?

• Do Roman paramedics refer to IV's as "4's"?

• Why is it that if someone tells you that there are 1 billion stars in the universe you will believe them, but if they tell you a wall has wet paint you will have to touch it to be sure?

• Are people more violently opposed to fur rather than leather because it's much easier to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs?

• If people from Poland are called "Poles," why aren't people from Holland called "Holes"?

Chuck Norris fact of the day

Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.

Woot the hell?

The Merriam-Webster dictionary just declared the non-word woot it's word of the year and they are considering including it in the official version.

1. w00t (interjection)
expressing joy (it could be after a triumph, or for no reason at all); similar in use to the word "yay"
w00t! I won the contest!

I don't understand are they just handing out official word status to any stupid thing someone mumbles? Who says woot anyway? I think Kvetchette should be a word, it is an adjective describing one who complains but who is awesome.

The Dreidel vs. the Wonton

Now Here's a Swiss Nanny I Would Hire...

This is truly the Internets at its best...

This site allows you to choose a real-life Swiss grand-mamma to custom knit you a pair of socks. You can click through the Ill-Nanas' photos and choose the knitter you "connect" with. Within a few weeks your airmail package of toe-warmers arrives.

Now don't let the exchange rate fool you. These knit-nacks are $45 USD. But does any of that really matter? You just hired a Swiss Nanny and you don't have to worry about her sneakin' glances at your man; unless of course she's checking to make sure he's taking his vitamins and has warm clothes on before heading out in the cold...


www.netgranny.ch

Well Isn't That Just Rude

I know I am way too cute to have so many strong political opinions, but by chance did anyone happen to catch Meet the Press on Sunday? Our favorite trannie Sir Rudes Giuliani was on for a full hour, fighting for his right to party. When grilled on the Bernie Kerik drama, he (incorrectly, I might add) quoted a predecessor Fiorello LaGuardia when he said:

"I don't make many mistakes, but when I make them, they're big ones."

Hmmmm...the best kind of mistakes to make. Big whammies. Thanks, Jules, for giving us a head's up.

Can you name these beloved characters?

Snapping is not clapping

I was at an awards breakfast this morning, it was a bunch of PR girls, so just imagine how many babydoll dresses with black tights were in the room - it's like our uniform. At any rate we sipped coffee and stayed away from carbs, pushing runny eggs around our plates while they announced the winners of the beauty awards. (Obviously I eat carbs but when I'm with a group of peers like that and none of them do then I have to suffer along and act like I'm not dying to enjoy the fried potato offering.) One particularly obnoxious attendee lazily hung her arm over the back of her chair and instead of clapping for the winners along with everyone else - she actually snapped her fingers. Not just once or twice, but every single time, I think there were something around 40 awards announced. She just snapped with one hand like she's all unaffected. And she didn't even do it with enthusiasm, or actual appreciation for winners. Snapping isn't loud enough to show that you are actually contributing to the applause. How freaking annoying is that?! I checked - her other arm wasn't in a sling, there was no reason for her not to clap and it made me crazy. I was obsessed with her, and I hate her now. What makes you too cool to clap like everyone else? I'm avoiding carbs to fit in, you can clap for my freaking award! Just wanted to pass it on, you guys would be annoyed too.

Holiday Madness

I need to know: someone please explain to me...what exactly is Circuit City selling that it is necessary to sleep outside of their doors all night long to be the first inside? Is it crack? Is the Circuit City on 5th Avenue and 44th Street a cover for a drug den? Because at least then I would sort of understand the human need to stand in 20-something degree weather for hours, if not overnight to get inside.

Is PSP that cool? Are they selling it in there at a 35% discount, as opposed to the 30% discount elsewhere? Don't you people have jobs to go to?? Lives? HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF THE FRIGGIN INTERNETS?

The irony in these holiday "madness" early-bird sales is that the people who wait in line for 14 hours on end for these deep-discounts are stretching pennies to be able to afford the stupid electronics anyway. Wouldn't time be better served looking for a job that pays more? Or maybe looking for a job at all?? Your kids don't need any more stupid video game consoles. You don't NEED a 50" plasma. Heck, you don't even have a wall in your apartment that's 50" wide; where the hell do you plan on putting that thing?? And now that you have stood out in the cold for the last 14 hours, you have gotten sick, because you didn't have the smarts to stand in line for something important like a warm winter coat; so now you will take your uninsured self to one of the city's many emergency rooms to get treated. And ring around the stupid rosy we go...

Ette2 personally has done all of her holiday shopping on the good ole' Internets...with a little resourcefulness, anything can be found. Sure, it might not be authentic, but authenticity is overrated anyway (except with handbags). So what if your PSP ends up being a PSB. He'll never know the difference. Just give it to him while wearing nothing but lingerie...I can assure you he'll be so distracted he'll never notice.

The only ways you would get Ette2 to wait in a line like that would be:

1. If Marc Jacobs and Zac Posen had a love child and said child was deemed genius from birth and was (at 3 years old) weaving garments on a loom inside; the first 20 people get haute couture pieces made for FREE.
2. If Brad and Angelina were interviewing for threesome girlfriends.
3. If they announced that everyone with blue eyes would earn an opportunity to rule the world for one hour.
4. If George Bush were tied up inside and the first 20 people could throw rocks at his head.

Chuck Norris Facts

Anyone who's anyone knows the real deal about Chuck Norris - he's not someone who should be messed with. Here's some well-known Chuck Norris facts. For more, check out chucknorrisfacts.com

1. Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills people.


2. There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.


3. Chuck Norris doesn't sleep. He waits.


4. The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.


5. There is no chin under Chuck Norris' beard. There is only another fist.


6. Chuck Norris has two speeds. Walk, and Kill.


7. The leading causes of death in the United States are 1. Heart Disease 2. Chuck Norris 3. Cancer


8. Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.


9. When the Boogieman goes to sleep at night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.


10. Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stars them down until he gets the information he wants.


11. Chuck Norris can lead a horse to water, and make him drink.


12. Chuck Norris doesn't wear a watch. He decides what time it is.

Important note to gift givers

There are some rules to gift giving that everyone should be aware of. There are some times during the year that when you give a gift it's completely understood. Like if you give me a gift during the week of my birthday or Hanukkah, then I understand that gift is designated for the holiday or celebration in question. It becomes less clear when gifting on off-periods how to designate said gift.

Let's say for instance I moved to a new, smaller apartment which required a large, yet flat screen TV. Perhaps I mentioned this to a few close friends and family members, and one said family member OFFERS to purchase one for me, because said family member can easily afford it. Then say out of the goodness and generosity of my own heart I suggest splitting the cost between said family member and myself. Said TV is purchased - and installed with no help from said family member might I add. Cut to nearly four months later, said family member shows up to family Hanukkah party with no gift for the TV giftee. Said family member explains that said large flat screen TV should have been considered the Hanukkah gift. Here's what went wrong here. At the original time of purchase, many months ago, when it was still hot outside and no one was thinking of winter-time holidays, said family member did not state that gift of TV should be designated forthcoming Hanukkah gift. This was neither expressed via verbal nor written communication of any sort, nor should it have been assumed. In fact, the TV recipient even went so far as to send a "Thank You" card to said family member - noting how generous it was to provide the gift (or half of it, as stated earlier) for no reason at all. After seeing this card, if there was some misunderstanding about designation of said gift, the giver should have cleared it up at that point. That didn't happen. So imagine, my surprise and dismay when I did not receive a gift at said Hanukkah party. I express this not to make any said family members feel bad or inadequate but merely as a cautionary tale to other potential gift-givers who might be reading this.



So, here are the rules:

• It is the gift-givers responsibility to acknowledge the designation of gifts no matter the time of year.


• If gift-giver means to designate said gift for more than one occasion (although generally frowned upon), it must be clearly stated in advance of gift giving or at the least at the time of gift giving.


• If gift is given for "no reason" you may not at a later date designate them for a specific purpose or event.


• Once an appropriate "Thank You" is received and accepted, gift-giver can no longer bring up the fact that said gift giver gave said generous gift.

Rules to live by everyone...

Rush Hour, Culinary Edition

Here's a kvetch I'm sure most of you can relate to--being rushed through your dinner at a restaurant that overbooks their reservations and allots each diner a total of 32 minutes to enjoy their over-priced meal.

Last night the Literettes got together for book club at Artisenal, a very tasty albeit stinky-cheese-smelling establishment on Park Ave. Now anyone with frommage experience knows that cheesy lactose-y fondue takes time to enjoy. So let a girl enjoy it while she chats it up about Eat, Pray, Love. Instead our hovering waiter practically pulled up a chair at our table, he was there so often. "Have you decided? Have you decided? Know what you want yet?" This guy was more in our face than Brad Pitt in Fight Club. I suppose it's possible that he was envious of our interesting and very highly intelligent literature discussion, but I am guessing that's not the reason. So as our $12 a glass, noticeably-underpoured wine showed up, we savored every drop. We savored every drop of our drippy stinky fondue, even as the waiter tried to snatch the pot out from under our fork picks. And we feigned naivety when he came back to retreive our signed credit card bill (which as everybody knows should be politely left untouched until after the guests depart from the table) and proceeded to read the tip amounts while standing at the table.

And then just for shits and giggles, yours truly went to the bathroom and the rest of the Literettes stayed hovering at the table until I had peed (not poo of course), checked my teeth for cheesy bits, re-applied some kiehl's lip balm, chatted it up with the prego lady who had spilled some of her own cheesy bits on her way-too-expensive maternity shirt, and washed my hands twice. And then returned to my crew, whereunder the watchful and scrutinizing eyes of the waiter, the Literettes slowly gathered handbags, coats, scarves, shopping bags, hats and gloves, chatting the whole way as we slowly exited from the table perimeter.

I love food. I love enjoyable dining experiences, soup to nuts. From the temperature and spreadability of the butter you place before me to the weight of the silverware to the culinary delights you place before my hungry eyes. I expect that you will keep your distance, dear waiter, until I call for you; at which point you remain accommodating and respectful. None of this prying eyes and rushing. Or you will have very unsavory kvetches coming your way. And everyone knows the weight a kvetch holds.

We Promise to Stop Talking About It

But it just keeps coming up in various mediums, and quite frankly it makes us chuckle. So here's a little skit to prove our theory that the VJ is making a huge comeback. And like we said, everyone has their own favorite name for it.

Woomba

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People we hate

I feel like we've strayed a bit from the original purpose of the blog, which is to complain a lot and help spread the hate.  The thing is our lives have been pretty ok lately, so there's not that much urge to bitch - well, there's always the urge, but there's less hate than usual.  That said, I'd like to get back to our roots.  I can't stand Renee Zelweger. I hope you agree.  The beady eyes, the stupid pout, the butchy haircut, the baby voice... it all sucks.  She's on my no list along with Elizabeth Hasselback and Rachael Ray.

Book Club

book club

definition: a reason to get together with the girls for a fancy dinner and loads of cocktails, and potentially discuss book in question for a period no greater than 3.5 minutes before moving on to such topics as boobs, butt and even VJ.

And then once fully buzzed and satiated, choosing another book for next time.

Kvetchette Getting Serious Recognition

In the form of a "shout out" during Papa Ette's speech at the wedding...this is what we call the beginning of a lengthy and costly publicity campaign.

Be warned we’re talking ‘bout poo

I can’t poo when someone else is in the bathroom. In my office we have a little bathroom with three stalls side-by-side and it’s way too close for comfort for me; so most of the time, I just hold it all day and wait to drop the kids off at the pool in the security of my own place. I hate being in the bathroom when someone else is going number 2 (and I don’t mean Ette2), the noise, the smell, it's sensory overload and I feel like I’m invading their space, and they mine. So I physically can’t do it when someone else is in there. Of course there are times when you sort of don’t have a choice and need to go in the middle of the day, so on those occasions I try to sneak in when no one is there. Every now and then you are just about to go for it, when you hear the key and someone comes stomping right in, so you squeeze it up tight and try to hold out. But then that bitch is taking her sweet old time getting out of there. She does her business and takes like 10 minutes fastening up her pants. I’m like good, she almost out of here, then she washes up... great, even closer to alone time… but then I don’t hear little footsteps walking away. Now she’s checking her teeth in the mirror or brushing her hair or I don’t know what, but it’s freaking rude. You know someone is in a stall, and they are obviously, purposely being very quiet, so you should understand it’s not just a pee-and-done type of situation. But she lingers. Sometimes I literally want to tell her to get the hell out, but then that sort of blows my poo cover, so I just hold it, which I imagine is not good for your health. Sometimes I hold it so long it actually goes away – has that ever happened to you? The pressure must have pushed it back up the colon to wait for a better opportunity. Also, doesn’t seem good for your health. Maybe I’m the only one with this type of b-room concerns, but ladies let’s try to be mindful of our fellow poopers and get in and out of the bathroom as quickly as possible – but of course don’t forget to wash your hands!

Funny side note is, I can't poo in public, but for some reason I have no problem pooing with the door open in my place when there are people there. You just run the water in the sink, it masks any unfortunate sounds and throws them off - causes confusion so no one really knows what you are doing in there. Smart strategy.

Hooray for Repeal Day!

Today is Repeal Day. Today we commemorate the anniversary of the day the good 'ole US of A repealed the 18th Amendment giving Americans the constitutional right to legally consume alcohol. Again.

For those of you who care for a little history lesson, Prohibition was basically declared on January 16th, 1919 in the form of the Volstead Act, which outlawed alcohol as an effort to put an end to what The Women's Christian Temperance Union called the "cause of many, if not all, social ills."

What nobody could have predicted (ahem, except for anyone who knows the value of a dirty martini after a long, tough day at the factory) was that alcohol consumption increased during Prohibition, and organized crime increased right along with it.



SO...we have the lovely ladies featured above to thank for today; a day rich in history, born of indignation, and celebrated long, hard and toxic since 1933.

To these bitter, unsuccessful ladies I raise my glass and toast you--our literal taste makers. And I'm buying drinks for all kvetchette readers today. Just add it to my tab...

Dreidel Time

too much dreidel makes you dizzy...

Givin the bird

Hanukkah Bird

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Weather the Storm

Brrrrr....the weather outside is frightful. It's cold. And windy. And SNOWING. What is with Mother Nature these days? Is she going through menopause or something? I mean DANG, woman...one day it's 58 and sunny and not a breeze in the sky and the next minute it's snowing and blowing Santa Ana-style winds that damn-near knocked my house over. In fact in NYC last night, 50 mph winds blew out windows on at least two high-rises, sending glass cascading to the street below. Hmmm; I'm glad I don't work late or I could have ended up with a shard or two to the dome.

I personally believe that this winter is going to be a real whammy. Mama Nature is indeed pissed off and she is putting her weather vane down and making us all aware of her disdain in the form of pre-winter freezing temps.

What does this mean for me? As mentally I was not prepared for such wardrobe changes so soon, brand spanking-new additions to my winter-gear selection are in order; they will act double duty as they lift my spirits in this drab daylight as well as prepare me for whatever storms may come. (And everyone knows a more positive, happy Ette2 means a more positive, happy you). They will increase my metabolism as they will put a bounce in my wintery work-day step by virtue of their "newness" and of course cuteness factor (and a bounce in my step could lead to weight loss; always a plus).

At least these are the excuses I'll provide when the credit card bill arrives.